Tʜᴇsᴇᴜs ~ Vɪɢɪʟᴀɴᴛᴇ!Tᴏᴍᴍʏ AU

Tᴡᴏ

TW// cussing, talk of kidnapping, CPS, injuries, panicking, crying

Tommy's POV

I woke up to the sound of a very loud alarm blaring and the feeling of someone undoing the ropes and chains that held me in my place. I looked over, seeing my kidnappers son, Tubbo, trying to free me.

"Wha- What are you..?" I trailed off. "Getting you, or, us out of here, that's what!" He yelled over the loud alarm. He undid the chains on my wrist and then cut the ropes that held my torso down with a knife.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet and out of the white tile room that held me. He dragged me down the long hallways. I heard glass shattering. I looked bending me, seeing my kidnapper, Schlatt, throwing glass objects our way, trying to stop us.

I felt some glass slam into the back of my head, shattering, and I nearly collapsed. The glass cut open the back of my neck, and it hurt like a bitch.

We busted through a door, into the bright outside world.

I sat up in my bed, hyperventilating and crying. I thought my dreams were over. I thought they stopped a long time ago. I was wrong, I guess.

I still have scars of both of my wrists from where I had those chains so tight on them. They weren't even cuffs. They were just straight up linked chains. And they were rusted too.

I sat there for a while, slowing my breath and calming my shaky hands.

I slid my legs out of my bed, standing up. The sun was peeking through my window, so I got up, and got dressed.

All good heroes are born with a power. For example, the three that try to arrest me constantly. Blade; the strength of ten men. Angel of Death; can take anyones sound, but chooses nit to since that kind of inhumane. And Ghost; can phase through solid objects like walls and floors.

Me, however, my power I was not born with, but given in that place I was just dreaming about. A man, Schlatt, had kidnapped me when I was just twelve. He and his men gave me shots and made me drink things that gave me my power.

My power; the ability to explode things with my mind.

I never do this, though. I don't want to blow things up. That could kill someone, and I don't need another reason for the heroes to want to arrest me.

Tubbo, Schlatt's son, had helped me escape when I was thirteen. That was two years ago. I am now fifteen. Ever since the two of us left, we've been hiding from Schlatt in this small town, while fighting crime.

Tubbo isn't very strong or fast, so I fight the crime and he programs things and fixes things and helps me take care of my injuries when I need him to. I can't thank him enough for it.

There was a harsh knock at my door. I groaned, and went over, opening it, seeing my landlord.

"Oh, hello, Dream." I said. "Thomas." He said, anger lacing his tone. "Can I help you?" I asked. "I found out from an anonymous source, that you aren't actually eighteen, but fifteen. Is that true?" He asked. "Uhm..."

"I'll take that as a yes. How dare you lie to me? I've already called CPS. They should be here soon. There is a nice family that's going to foster you." He said.

No. No, I can't go back into the system. I was there before Schlatt took me. It's awful, I can't go back. How do I fight crime in a foster home? I can't! I actually can't!

"W-What? Dream, no, you didn't. Please say you didn't." I pleaded. "I did. I'm sorry, Thomas, but this is just how it has to be. Your a minor and this is the law."

He then walked away.

I shut the door and ran over, pulling out my shitty radio that I communicated with Tubbo with when we're apart.

"Tubbo? Tubbo, come in, it's Tommy." I said into it, waiting for a response. "What's up, big man?" Tubbo asked, voice fuzzy with radio static. "They're coming for me. CPS. Dream found out that I'm not eighteen and he called them. Tubbo, I'm going to a fucking foster home!" My voice was high, my nervousness prominent.

"You're what?! How- How did he find out?" Tubbo asked. "I don't- I don't know! He said that an 'anonymous source' had told him. I- I don't know who that would be though!" I said, starting to breathe heavily.

My last few foster homes, before Schlatt took me, weren't very nice. Would this one be the same.

"Hey, it'll be ok, Tommy. I'm sure they'll be great! Calm down." Tubbo said. "How am I supposed to fight crime when I'm in a fucking foster home, Tubs? And it's not me worrying about if they'll be good or not, it's the fact that I don't know here it is, so I don't know if I'll ever see you again!" I said.

Tubbo's end of the line went silent for a moment.

"Just- Don't worry about that right now, ok? Worry about packing your things and getting there. If you ever just disappear and never call me, I have my compass. I'll go find you." Tubbo said. "O-Ok. I will. Talk to you later, Tubbo." "Yeah, ttyl."

I then put my radio down and grabbed my suitcase, throwing all of my things in it. I don't have much. I grabbed my red duffel bag that had a raccoon imprinted on the front. This bag held my make shift suit.

I heard a knock at my door. I opened it, seeing a guy there. Brown hair, two separate colored eyes. One brown and one blue.

"Hello, I'm George, your social worker." He smiled, reaching out to shake my hand. I made a face, not accepting his hand shake. "Ok, then." He sighed. "Come with."

I hesitantly followed him down the short hall, and down the flight of stairs to the ground floor.

"Tommy," I heard. I looked over, seeing a guy. His name is Ranboo. We've talked a few time, and he's pretty nice. He lives a room or two down from me. "Yes?" I asked. "I-I'm sorry. I'm the one who told Dream. I just- I worry for you, and you're just a kid, and you shouldn't have to live in this shit hole and-"

"You're the one who told?" I cut him off. He nodded. I exhaled. "Wow. Thank you for that." I said, obviously sarcastic.

Ranboo and I had spoke just a few times, but I really felt like I could trust him. I guess I was wrong.

"Come on, Thomas." George said. "Ugh, I'm coming, jesus fuck." I rolled my eyes. "Goodbye, Ranboo." I said, letting him know that I'm angry at him.

George led me to a car, and we then left.

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