"Do you have any idea how reckless that was?" Dream- or as Tommy knew him 'Clay'- half shouted as he passed the small room. When he had almost ran into one of the waiting chairs, he kicked it aside with his foot, the plastic slamming against the wooden desk. Tommy flinched at the noise.

"Oh, I was the reckless one? I could have been killed when I was having my muscle spasm because one of you assholes decided to use the collar!" Tommy retorted in a low, angry tone. He hadn't changed out of his hero costume (didn't have time), but his mask was gone and his hood was down, making the collar a little more prominent. It was a black metal device that circled his neck, a thick box positioned beneath the left side of his face with a red blinking dot to inform Tommy it was active.

"We did that to keep you from getting hurt. You were in a room with three of the most dangerous villains in the world," Clay said like Tommy wasn't aware of the situation he had been in.

"And I had one of those fuckers held hostage at knifepoint. Even if I got killed, one of them would have gone down with me," Tommy said with a growing smile. It was surreal to him. He was used to dealing with petty threats. The moment he stepped up to the plate at the big boy games, Tommy had succeeded where others had failed. That deserved celebrating, not lectures.

While Tommy was lost in his thoughts, Clay had leaned down to be eye level with him, a hand grasping Tommy's hand in the boy's lap. "Tommy... I don't want you dead. Not even if that means we get the Syndicate. Don't trade your life for a villains."

Tommy didn't even realize he let his lack of self preservation show. Tommy knew he needed to keep that in check. It wasn't his job to reassure heroes. He just didn't want them to be worried about him. Especially not Clay. "I'm sorry. Big man Tommy didn't even know he said it. Let's forget about that, m'kay?"

Clay looked like he wanted to do anything but forget. He would have said as much if the door didn't swing open. In strolled XD, man in charge of the Heroes Association and someone citizens viewed as a god. He wasn't actually a god, but his power did give him a 'straight from the Heavens' vibe. He had five floating plates of varying sizes made of green energy that trailed his back, connected by something magnetic that made them look like wings enhanced by technology. He wore a green dress with white armor with long sleeves that all four of his arms came out of. He had light greenish gray eyes with thin dark green slits. Some called godly, Tommy called ugly.

"Tempest, Dream," XD acknowledged them as he lowered himself into his seat. Dream stood up, hand leaving Tommy's. The big man would never admit this, but he had to repress a whine at the loss of contact. "Today, we discuss the matter involving Tempest vs. the Syndicate."

"I did nothing wrong," Tommy spat out before they got the ball rolling. XD gave an unamused expression while Dream looked distraught. Tommy didn't care what they had to say, though. He would stand by the fact that he wasn't the one in the wrong here. Tommy knew he wasn't perfect, knew he made his fair share of mistakes, but this one time, why couldn't everyone agree that he did the best he could in the situation?

"You should have waited for other heroes to arrive," XD said it like it was obvious. Tommy didn't scoff no matter how badly he wanted to.

"What do you shits think I was doing?! I was waiting for back up! That's why I didn't fucking fight them! I distracted them with a bullet, waited for one to see me as a subdue-able threat, and turn it back on them so I could stall for as long as necessary. I told Scott what happened. He should have pressed the emergency button. If he didn't, that's on him," Tommy argued, anger flaring as he brought himself to his feet. Dream was there, hand on Tommy's chest to keep him from fighting XD. Like Tommy was stupid enough to do that. He has established that he wasn't stupid, right?

"Tempest, calm down. This matter isn't as cut and dry as you would like to believe. Maybe you were at first, but you left them in that laboratory, where they got away with that private information," XD continued. Tommy didn't get calm because XD told him to but because Dream was whispering similar sentiments to him. Tommy was loyal to Dream. That was it, really. XD didn't have anything on Tommy but his paycheck.

"I apologize for being out of commission. Funny how ACTIVATING THIS STUPID COLLAR MAKES SOMEONE HURT REALLY BADLY!!" Tommy started to shout. "It wasn't my fault. You were the ones who took me out, not the actual villains. If you were that concerned, maybe a message would have been better. Hack through my comms to say 'hey, wait for heroes' instead of setting my neck on fire!"

"We did what we had to do in that situation," XD explained calmly, unfazed by Tommy's growing rage or Dream's desperation to bottle said rage for a punching bag later.

"So did I. I assessed the situation, and made the most of it. I'm not as powerful as those three. I'm not as powerful as you or Dream. I know this. I've come to terms with this. I still do my best to live up to the heroes legacy you set and defeat the bad people out there. I did nothing wrong," Tommy whispered in the way that someone who is extremely angry does. The kind of way that means you need all your energy to restrain yourself instead using some of it to yell.

The room remained quiet. Tommy, on his feet, seething with anger and insisting he was in the right. Dream, also on his feet, trying to keep Tommy from making the situation worse. XD, sat poised at his desk, uncaring eyes blinking at Tommy and Dream like they were simple dogs barking at him. If that didn't piss Tommy off more, there were several things XD did that heightened the emotion.

"Regardless of what has happened or what should have happened, this is Tempest's second mistake of the month. One more, and we will have a meeting with the mayor," XD told them what the final decision was. Tommy wanted to scream more, but Dream was dragging him outside, pushing Tommy's mask on his face.

"This is bullshit! Second mistake?! I haven't made fucking one. What was I supposed to do at the convenient store? Let that women get shot just because I was off duty? Am I not a hero?!" Tommy screamed at the door even when it was closed. Dream sighed into his hands, eyes peeking at the heroes who were on the floor. Each one looked at Tommy- who they knew as Tempest- with varying emotions from pity to annoyance.

"Tempest, shut up," Dream demanded sharply. Tommy's mouth instantly closed, not a peep was made. Sometimes it astounded Dream just how much control he had over Tommy. "Calm down before XD says you made three mistakes and you get fired."

Tommy didn't say anything. His fists loosened, however, so Dream knew that the anger had ebbed away. Dream made sure Tommy's face mask was properly attached before looking over at one of the closest hero aides. "Fundy? Will you come here? Do you mind giving Tempest a check up while I make a few phone calls?"

The fox hybrid's ears rose when he heard his name. He looked at Tempest and Dream. Only Fundy and the former noticed the blush that dusted his cheeks when he saw Dream. Normally, Tempest would have scoffed or made fun of Fundy, but the fox could see he was tired and upset. No longer angry-upset but more of a sad-upset. Fundy didn't know Tempest well, but he didn't like when people were sad-upset.

"Do what you have to do," Tempest said to Dream before grabbing Fundy's hand. It should have been the other way around, but Fundy let Tempest lead him to the infirmary. When they made it there, Tempest lightly pushed Fundy into a chair while sitting on one of the cots, putting a pillow behind his back as he leaned against the wall.

"Shouldn't I-" Fundy started, reaching for bandages.

"No need. Spawn heals all my wounds. Physically, I'm fine," Tempest shook his head. "Dream really just wants you here to make sure I stay here. He knows that I wouldn't feel right if I hurt or tricked an innocent like you to escape."

Fundy didn't expect that. He had this imagined idea of Tempest. Everyone did. Fundy's idea of Tempest didn't include his refusal to harm 'innocents'. He imagined a narcissist, honestly. The hero in front of him was sprawled out lazily, fingers forming and releasing fists. This man had his eyes closed, as relaxed as he could be. Fundy decided to take a chance.

"Can you... well, you're... I mean, as Dream's sidekick, what's he... like?" Fundy stuttered out, ears folding down in embarrassment while his cheeks imitated his hair. Tempest peeked one eye open, looking at Fundy before sighing.

"Dream... his real name is Clay. He's in his early to mid twenties. He grew up in the Prime lands. He became a hero at 15, and went on his first major mission at 18. Took me as his apprentice when he was 15. His personality is... well, he's creative, agile, resilient, and is rather orderly. He's good at reading emotions and manipulating a situation. Level headed on the surface, but when he looses his temper, he's worse than Schlatt," Tempest replied. Fundy nodded along, unsure about that very last bit. Who could be worse than Schlatt?

"Tempest!" Someone shouted as the door slammed open. A tall man with purplish blue hair with shifting colors of blue, red, and purple for eyes shot from the doorway to Tempest's bedside in a few seconds flat. A trail of starlike particles hovered behind him, flittering around because of his movements. "What happened? How are you? Is everyone alright? Did you get hurt?"

"Chill, Scotty Boy. I'm decent. Except the neck," Tempest said, tapping something against his neck. Fundy didn't notice it before, but now he couldn't take his eyes off it. A collar was practically fused into the skin of his neck. Scott frowned at it, swiping a card right beside a blinking red light. The light flashed yellow before making a snapping noise and falling into Scott's awaiting hand.

Fundy gagged at the sight. Dark red skin was stitched together with lighter shades into a patchwork of burnt skin. It was soaked in blood, some flowing like water, the rest more solid like a bandaid. Even worse, some patches had small bubbles of creamy white with a few popped and leaking puss. Tempest let his fingers brush against one of the wounds, his breath hitching

Scott dropped the collar on the ground. He hesitantly lifted his own hand, reaching slowly for the neck. Scott shook his head, hand raising to rest in Tempest's hair. If Scott didn't feel horrible before, seeing Tempest lean into the touch, neck forgotten, made him want to cry right then and there. "When was the last time they took this off? It looks infected."

"It isn't that bad," Tempest protested, his voice dimming down without any energy to it. His shoulders hunched together, eyes fluttering as Scott continued stroking his hair. Scott had to keep a coo from escaping his mouth. It made him elated to see that Tempest trusted himself enough to relax around Scott.

"Tempest, when was the last time they treated the wounds?" Scott tried again with a deepening frown. Fundy was on his feet, getting medical supplies to treat the wound. Why didn't Tempest tell him about this?

"Not bad," Tempest drawled drunkenly. Scott wanted to demand an answer, but Tempest was out like the lights during a storm. Scott sighed. He took a rag from beside him, watering it with cold tap. Scott cleaned the blood and pus as best he could, knowing more would follow. Before that happened, Scott took the ointment from Fundy. He scooped a lot on his hand, rubbing circles on the wounds. Tempest didn't make a peep, not even when Scott had started wrapping the wounds with a thick white bandage.

"Stay safe, starlight," Scott muttered softly, giving Tempest a hug before leaving. Fundy stayed, watching over Tempest as the hero slept. While some would declare that creepy, Fundy had a bad feeling. Why would the heroes do this? Why Tempest and no one else? Was there anyone else? Fundy hadn't seen anyone else with collars, but that didn't mean they weren't around. A less important question Fundy entertained, why did every other wound heal at Spawn, but not this one, probably the worst?

Hero society was an odd battleground.