Trigger warnings: Argument, murder allegations and talk of murdered people.

Tommy sat on the sofa, staring idly at a blaring television screen. It was one in the morning and Ranboo's snores were nice background noise as he stared at the breaking news alert flashing at him from the television. Tubbo walked in, holding two mugs of steaming, decaffeinated coffee.

"Reported on already?" He said, leaning over to hand Tommy a mug and sitting on the back of the sofa. "Those journalists are quick, ain't they?"

"That'd be Grian Parrot," Tommy replied, sipping his coffee and adding, "He's always watching."

Tubbo nodded. "I've noticed. He always writes 'bout us and the 'cha'."

Tommy flashed a smile. "It's the best thing to write about."

The screen showed two women, one in an impeccable suit and the other in a peach blouse. They shifted their notes and turned to face the camera. The one in the blouse began, "Only one hour ago, there was another attack on the docks made by Theseus, Enderling and Bee. It was an aggressive assult, which involved children and live ammunition. The three fled the scene once heroes The Blood God and Jubilee Line arrived during their patrol."

"This attack has left eight injured and one dead," The suit woman began but Tommy coughed and spluttered on the coffee he had just swallowed, horror freezing his blood still.

Tubbo spun around to stare. "What?!"

"It wasn't me," Tommy insisted. "I-I wouldn't do that!"

"No, I know! I'm just scared who did!"

"The body was of thirty-six-year-old Annabelle Rigdley, a woman who was well known for rather extremist views on hybrid-purging. Her body was found in the warehouse basement under a crate."

Tommy looked at Tubbo. "Did you know there was a basement?"

"No, I didn't. Did you find one?"

"No, I didn't." The pair stared at each other, and Tommy felt a feeling of dread creep down his spine. They turned back to the television.

"Reports from the City's Corporation of Heroic Activity says that their profilers doubt this would've been done  by the vigilante force but this information has changed all attitudes," The blouse-woman said in a tone unnervingly calm. "Rigdley's family are devastated, saying how they had lost contact with her eight days ago, after a talk to some of her sympathisers during a rally. They had assumed nothing at the time and are horrified by the news."

Suit-lady shuffled her notes, looking through the screen into Tommy's soul. "This announcement brings great sorrow to our city. A memorial service is planned to be held next week by supporters of Rigdley's message. In recent light of a body being found on scene of Enderling and his vigilante force, the bounty has been increased. It now sits at eleven-thousand pounds, for any information on the criminals."

Tommy turned to Tubbo. "Eleven-thousand?"

"That's the quickest it's increased in a long time... Do they even have that kind of money?"

"Wouldn't be surprised..." Tommy replied. The vigilante turned off the TV and took a large sip of his coffee. The bitter taste was very much welcome and he sighed. "Jesus Christ... there was a body under my feet. The whole time."

Tubbo rubbed his back calmingly. "It's okay, Tommy. She was a hybrid-purger anyway. Probably deserved it, right?"

"Who do you think got her?" The blond asked, looking up at his friend.

The short one shrugged. "I don't know. The criminals. The heroes. Someone did but it wasn't us, alright? Don't let yourself dwell on that too much for now."

"It must've been the kidnappers," Tommy said, trying to assure himself. "I mean, it obviously wasn't us and Jubilee Line is a stick-in-the-mud when it comes to professional conduct."

Tubbo grimaced. "Well, he wasn't tonight."

Tommy flinched visibly and stood up from the sofa. "That wasn't normal. That... That wasn't like him at all."

"Tom." His friends' voice was stern as Tubbo walked after him. "We don't know the heroes, alright? You think we do but we don't. Maybe Jubilee did kill that woman. I'm doubting it a bit, I guess, but you can't just rule him out because you think he's a good person."

The blond glared. "He is a good person. Tubbo, I know how you feel about heroes but you gotta trust me: whoever killed that Rigdley woman wasn't us or the 'cha'. It was the warehouse-people and you know it."

"Oh, do we?" Tubbo pressed. "Because, after what I saw tonight, I'm not so sure."

"Toby, Jubilee Line wouldn't kill anyone. Tonight was odd, yeah, but it's never happened before. Maybe he was stressed. Maybe it was a hybrid thing. We've got no clue and, the one thing I think I do have a clue about, is that Jubilee didn't hurt a hair on that woman's' head."

"Well, someone did," Answered Tubbo. "And the only thing that we know for certain is that it wasn't us."

Tommy grunted, walking into the small kitchen. "Whatever."

Tubbo began to follow him, hesitated and then dawdled to a stop. "Look. It's late, alright? I think it's best we both just go to bed. Talk about it in the morning, y'know?"

"Yeah, so you can stop accusing innocent people of murder."

Very put out, Tubbo bristled. "Jubilee looked like he was about to beat you to death, Tommy!" 

"Well, he wouldn't and keep your voice down," Tommy turned to glare. "Wouldn't want to wake up your beloved Beloved, huh?"

"Ranboo's fast asleep anyway and you are being ridiculous!" Tubbo walked into the kitchen, jabbing an aggressive finger at Tommy's chest. "I'm not saying Jubilee Line did it. I'm just saying that everyone's a suspect until proven otherwise, okay?"

"What are we now, murder investigators?" Tommy scoffed, batting away Tubbo's hand. "Look, you're being an idiot. You're just letting your biases and past influences about a completely different hero make you think stupidly." The blond took a large sip from the coffee then glared at his friend. "So there."

Tubbo sneered slightly. "I'm being stupid, huh? At least I'm not being some bloody fanboy. You're just defending the guy who went apeshit. Like, red tears and bullshit like that. Are you mad?"

"You need a nap," Tommy grumbled, trying to shove past Tubbo and leaving his coffee half-finished on the counter.

"A nap?" Echoed Tubbo in disbelief. "Are you serious? I'm the one who needs a nap?"

"Yes, you are! Throwing accusations of murder at people who we both know wouldn't hurt anybody."

"Well, at least I'm not the one attacking people with inexplicable rage and shrieking like a madman, or the one trying to say that the guy trying to arrest him through beating-to-submission isn't gonna hurt anyone-!"

"Just leave me alone, Toby!"

"-At least I'm not the one pretending I'm a bloody hero!"

Ranboo's bedroom door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud and sharp bang, and the two friends jumped back in shock. Their tall flatmate looked furious, eyes dark and glaring with utter menace. "Keep it down, you idiots," he hissed. "I bought a good apartment, not sound-proofed walls. What the hell are you two even on about?"

Tommy flushed, sheepishly, and Tubbo glared at the blond. "Tommy's being stupid. A woman was killed on the news and he's trying to defend people with no alibi because he thinks they're cool."

He rounded on Tubbo with a small snarl in his voice. "If you really think Jubilee Line would just kill a woman then, please, explain to me where in the bottom-most pits of hell you managed to fathom that genius idea, Sherlock."

"You think Jubilee killed someone?" Ranboo asked Tubbo, an eyebrow raised.

Tubbo hesitated. "No, but... Tommy can't just try and say people didn't do something when they might've."

"Then both of you drop it," Ranboo gave them both a freezing stare. "It is an absolutely unacceptable time of night to be fighting. Tubbo, go to your room and stop playing Murder Mystery. Tommy, same goes to you or whatever."

The door swung shut and Tommy risked a glance at Tubbo. His friend seemed stunned, offended and a little upset at how dismissive Ranboo had been. Turning on his heel, he shoved past Tommy to his room, making sure his door closed with a rather phenomenal bang. Tommy glared after him, too, and walked into his own room. He nearly slammed his door too but didn't when Ranboo opened his door to make pointed glare at him.

"Slam that door," He threatened gently, "And I will teleport you onto the roof of this building."

Tommy smiled nervously and proceeded to gently close the door.

Tubbo was not in the flat when Tommy left his room a couple hours later. Ranboo was watching the television, eyes stretched wide as he listened to the story from the night before, about the body of Ridgely being found. Tommy quietly side-stepped his hybrid friend, making a bee-line for the kitchen.

It was obvious, by the state of the kitchen, that Tubbo had been having breakfast with Ranboo before going. There were two plates with the remains of scrambled eggs, bacon grease and toast crumbs stacked by the sink and empty glasses of orange juice. Part of Tommy was annoyed they hadn't woken him up. On the other hand, it was eleven-thirty in the morning and Tubbo needed to leave early for an appointment.

Tommy grabbed himself a bowl and filled with too much cereal and too little milk. He began to wolf it down and carried it from the kitchen into the living room.

Ranboo turned on the sofa to stare at him. "Is this what the fight was about last night?"

"Is it that hybrid-purger woman?"

"Yeah. Annabelle Rigdley."

Tommy nodded, sitting cross-legged on the sofa next to his tall friend. "Yeah. Tubbo was saying it might have been the heroes but I think he's just being Tubbo. Y'know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," Ranboo turned back to the screen with a grimace. "Can't really blame him though, with what he went through."

"I guess," Tommy said, through a mouthful of cereal. "But it wasn't Jubilee Line's fault, what happened."

"No, but... grief manifests differently." Ranboo leaned back a little. "And you gotta remember that."

Tommy didn't reply for a minute or so. He didn't reply at all. He finished his cereal and left Ranboo on the sofa, heading back inside his room. He had the biggest room in the flat, aside from the living room, because his friends had insisted. It was more wide than it was long and his bed was tucked neatly under the window opposite the door, tightly fitting the corner and walls. His desk was on the far left of the room, on the same side as his bed and it was littered with papers that the vigilante simply wasn't bothered to go through.

The blond went over to his bed and rummaged under the pillow briefly. His hand found the firecan and he pulled it out. It was heavy with gas and the button was locked safely, so he didn't burn down the flat in his sleep. Or explode his head. According to Tubbo, that was very likely. He wasn't too sure he believed that but it was better safe then sorry.

He walked across the room, towards the desk, and started looking through the drawers. Lying under a carefully placed fake university folder was his belt. Its' magnetic clip was the perfect place to holster his firecan - even if it stopped working half the time - and Tommy double-checked its' secret compartment was still filled with plasters and anti-septic spray. He picked it up then turned left to his ensuite.

Much to his amusement, he had the only room in the flat with an ensuite. It was small, and a little smelly, but he had banned Tubbo and Ranboo from using it which meant they had to share one that wasn't connected to either of their rooms. In the cabinets above the sink was a black backpack. Inside the backpack was his grappling hook and its' strap on holster.

Tommy put the firespray and the belt into the rucksack and swung it down from the cabinet, closing it behind him. Leaving his bathroom, he went to his bedside counter and pulled out his mask from where it sat under his lamp. He shoved it in his pocket, slung the backpack over his shoulder and then walked out.

Ranboo looked up at him. "Going out to pick a fight?" He asked, sceptically.

"Going out for a walk," Lied Tommy. "I'll be back."

"Yeah, okay. Earpiece?"

Tommy picked one up from where it was hidden inside a fake flower. "Got one."

"Alright. I'll put mine in soon. Call me when you need out."

"Will do." Tommy stuffed the earpiece with the mask and left the flat. He closed the door behind him, turned around, and found himself face to face with Dream.]

Shit.

"Tommy!" Dream greeted, grinning. His smile fell suddenly. "It is 'Tommy', right?"

Tommy blinked a few times before processing the question. "Oh, yeah. It is 'Tommy'. And you're Dream, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." Dreams' friendly grin was back. "You heading out somewhere?"

"Uh..." As a matter of fact, yes, I was just about to go and hide in a port-a-loo to change into fancy dress so I could frolic around on rooftops and technically break the law. "I'm just going for a walk."

"Cool, I was about to as well. Want to join me?"

Tommy hesitated a little. "Sure," He said. "Why not?"

Dream smiled at him and began to walk down the corridor, forcing Tommy to follow thanks to peer pressure. "So, how's it been? Not too much has happened, I'd dare say."

"Not much has happened, I guess," Tommy said, if 'not too much' applied to finding out you were in the vicinity of a murder victim less than twelve hours ago. "I guess I... kinda bickered with my roommate."

"Ooh," Dream winced apologetically. "That sucks. Was it a big fight?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, it was. We sorta... well, we've got different opinions on the 'cha' and that can end up fuelling a lot of different arguments."

Dream looked empathetic as he called the lift to their floor. "No feelings hurt, though?"

"-At least I'm not the one pretending I'm a bloody hero!"

"I don't think so." Tommy looked to the lift doors, waiting for them to open. "Not intentionally, anyway."

His neighbour patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Well, as long as you can forgive each other, right? If it wasn't ill-intended then I think you'll move on."

"I hope so," Was Tommy's response, then the lift doors opened and the blond stepped inside. "I've been his friend for ages. I was fourteen when we first met, maybe thirteen."

"Where'd you meet? School?"

Tommy shook his head. "No, at a pro-vigil protest."

Dream took on a polite expression of utter shock. It was so remarkably surprised yet so toned back that it made Tommy snicker. "You're a sympathiser?"

"Sort of. It was about 'The Warden' and I was protesting for him to go unpunished."

"Didn't go too well, huh?" Joked Dream. "Still served a year."

Tommy nodded. "Better than it could've been. His estimated sentence was four. But, anyway, I met Tubbo there because my sign had broken and he let me hold his with him. Then we hung out after the protest, I went back to his place for dinner and we've been inseparable since."

"Tubbo as in your friend you fought with, right?"

"Yeah, that's him. It's a nickname for 'Toby'. He's the freelancer guy I mentioned."

Dream nodded. "So not the trust-fund guy?"

Tommy snorted. "No, he's not the trust-fund guy. That's my other roommate."

"Okay. So you had a fight with your friend and now you're moping."

The vigilante turned, flushing. "I'm not moping!"

"I've known you for, what, a consecutive thirty minutes? Maybe less? And the fact you're not shouting my ear off is giving off red flags, dude."

Tommy went red. "I am not that loud!"

Dream grinned. "You are."

The elevator reached the ground floor and the doors opened, letting the pair leave. "No, I'm not!" Tommy argued. "I speak at a respectable volume!"

"You're shouting right now! You're just proving my point!"

Tommy glared. "You can shut up. I don't shout. Ever."

Dream raised an eyebrow, smugly. "Oh, yeah? So what was that just two seconds ago?"

"A glitch in the Matrix."

His neighbour scoffed with a grin. "Well, let's hope the Matrix fixes itself."

They walked out of Visvang and began to make their way down the street. Tommy rushed a road again but Dream stood at the side, like a law-abiding citizen, and crossed afterwards.

Tommy rolled his eyes at him as Dream approached. "You're boring, mate."

"Blame my friends," Dream answered. "They're sticklers for the rules. Most of the time."

"Oh, yeah?" Poked Tommy teasingly. "And who are your friends? Imaginary guy one and Imaginary guy two?"

Now it was Dreams' turn to light-heartedly roll his eyes. "They both work with the city's police force. My boyfriend says he won't hesitate to arrest me if I break the law."

Tommy gasped dramatically. "A boyfriend? How gross and romantic."

Dream shrugged. "Whatever you say."

"Would he actually arrest you, though?"

The green-eyed man hesitated. "I hope not," He replied, staring contemplatively at the sky. "Maybe he'd pretend to as a joke but he'd let me off because special privileges."

"And your other friend?" Tommy asked, this time waiting with Dream at the traffic lights.

Dream made a face. "He'd encourage me."

"Oh."

"But legally."

Tommy frowned, confused. "Oh."

"I don't understand him either," Shrugged Dream. "But he is what he is and what he is is a complex guy."

"Huh," Tommy turned back to the road, crossing as the lights turned red. "I think I'm a bad influence on my friends. I get them into trouble."

"Mhm. How much trouble?"

Tommy thought about it. Making his two best friends wanted criminals, with ever-increasing bounties, and getting them into fights every other day was probably a lot of trouble, now he reflected on it. "Let's just say, none of us look when crossing the road."

Dream gave a theatrical gasp. "You're pure villainy."

"I know," Tommy flashed a grin then let it slowly fall. "But I gotta go."

"Oh?" Dream frowned. "But I was enjoying our chat."

"Sorry," Grimaced Tommy. "But it's unavoidable, y'know? Just remembered I've got to meet up with trust-fund guy because... I don't know, rich people stuff." Dream didn't seem too convinced, so Tommy waved, said goodbye and quickly left before his neighbour could ask any questions.

He ducked through alleyways, taking confusing twists and turns to make sure Dream couldn't follow him and no cameras had an accurate grasp on his direction. He walked out into a field, then a little further to an old construction site, where a port-a-loo stood unguarded and unnoticed.

He stepped inside and pulled out his earpiece, plugging it in first.

"Hey," He started in a low voice. "Are you there?"

The line buzzed into life. "Hi, yeah, I'm here. D'you need extraction already? You're not even on the news yet."

"No, I don't need extraction," Tommy said. "I'm just about to get ready and go."

"Well, this is taking you a while," Ranboo said, mockingly, as Tommy put on his facemask and took off his backpack. "What held you up?"

"Eh, I was just chatting." Tommy pulled the belt on over his shirt, buckling it tight, and then attached the firecan. "Made friends with our neighbour."

"What, the person who lives in A-five?"

"Yeah, him. He's cool."

"Whatever," Ranboo said, with no real malice in his voice. "Tune in when you need help, alright? I'll put my cloak on for preparation."

"Will do, bossman." Tommy finished fixing his holster straps for the grappling hook along his chest. "The bag will be by the same tree as usual, okay?"

"I'll grab it later," promised Ranboo. "Go be a hero, alright?"

Tommy grinned, opening the port-a-loo door far too dramatically for the fact no one was watching. "Always will."