The Trick to Falling in Style

Denial

Shroud was fast asleep on his couch, bundled in every blanket Tommy owned. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough that Tommy could barely see the tuft of black hair poking through the mess. The hybrid had crashed the moment Tommy lowered him onto the couch. He was scared that the spiderling couldn't regulate his own temperature in Tommy's freezing apartment, so his first instinct was to trap the child in the blankets. Plus, if Shroud did wake up and chose violence, Tommy would have some reaction time as the arachnid tried to break free from the blankets.

Tommy sat in a foldable chair, the metal warm beneath his weight after sitting there for a few hours. He held the syringe in his hand. His fingers were pressed into the side of the glass. The violet colored liquid sloshed to the sides with a viscosity similar to water. There wasn't much left in the syringe, only about an eighth of the volume size. Tommy speculated that it was less than a single fluid ounce. He wondered if that would be enough for someone to identify the liquid. He knew for certain that it was a potion of some sort. The color was similar to the illegal drugs. It had the distinct property of manipulating the mind in some capacity. Tommy wasn't exactly sure, but he thought it was fair to assume that the liquid aggravated a person, getting them to commit violent deeds they normally wouldn't consider. That, or maybe it reverted a hybrid's mental state to that of the Mob they were crossed with. Whatever the case, the thing wasn't good.

Tommy could make some potions. He had learned as a child how to do that. The problem was that he didn't have the machinery to test the potion to find its ingredients. If he knew what the ingredients were, he would obviously be able to figure out the potion, or at least, the type of potion. There were no nearby places that sold that type of machinery, either, and even if they did, Tommy didn't have the cash for that. He would have to break into a laboratory. That would take weeks of planning to make sure he didn't get caught, especially since the only viable ones were in Snowchester and Badlands districts. The other thing he could do is head down to the streets to find an illegal potions dealer, but he wasn't stupid enough to trust one of those goons to help him.

There was one more option. It was technically the least dangerous option, but it would require Tommy to dawn a dead man's suit. He wasn't sure if he wanted to do that. He knew someone who was smart enough to find the contents of the potion with free access to a laboratory. It was someone that Tommy could trust in certain capacities, and this certainly counted as one of those capacities. That person would only respond to Vermillion. They didn't know Tommy, and the blonde wasn't willing to give up his identity, not even for an old friend.

Tommy had been agonizing about his options for hours. He had four of them, each with their own drawbacks. He could sneak into a laboratory; this plan would require the most planning and would require time that he didn't have. He could find a dealer on the streets, but that required him to trust the person he would be indebted to. He could become Vermillion for one more night to see his former friend, but that would lead to an argument and probably some misunderstandings. He could do nothing. He could put Shroud in some orphanage and throw away the syringe. He could pretend that he had seen nothing. That would be the smartest option, but it was the one that Tommy refused to consider. He couldn't just do nothing. If he did, people were going to get hurt. What if someone had found Shroud? Those people would have been hurt. Shroud would have been captured and unfairly put in jail. No one would care that it had been the potion messing with a literal child's mind. Tommy was the only one who would care.

Tommy looked back over at the child. That's right. He was the only one who cared. Shroud didn't have anyone else. Tommy, no matter how much he didn't want to, had to be the one to help because no one else would. Tommy swallowed thickly. He had to look past his pride. Shroud, and so many other hybrids out there, needed his help right now.

Tommy felt his grip tighten around the syringe, pushing onto his feet. He walked to the closet at the end of the hallway. He opened it to reveal a bunch of boxes with a few towels and rags resting on the shelf. Tommy pushed his way through the boxes to find something he had buried in the back. It was a black briefcase with frosted metal framing. Tommy ran his hand along the front, feeling the tough leather scrape against his fingertips. His hand slid all the way down until it touched the metallic number code lock. Tommy flipped the dials until they formed his password. The internal locking system slides to unlock the briefcase. Tommy hesitantly tugged the case open. He ran his hand against the clothing that was folded neatly inside, as pristine as the day Tommy had received the gift. He could still remember the smile on his friend's face as they pushed the briefcase into Tommy's awaiting arms, showing him how to unlock it. Even now, Tommy could feel the warmth that had enveloped his body when he had thrown his arms around his friend in gratitude. Tommy shoved the bittersweet memory away as he pulled the outfit out of its metallic confines.