Loyalties and Lies [Rewritten Under Different Name]

Chapter 20: rooming with heroes

TW PTSD, implied trauma,
Please let me know if I missed any

Tommy

Living with the heros in a house was weird. They acted like a family, a really broken, yet put together family.

At least one of them would patrol District 16 every night, and sometimes they would run into other vigilantes who had flocked to help patrol.

It was unsettling to stay with your co-workers who don't know you are a co-worker, but the contacts helped sell the point that it was just a silly coincidence that Tommy had gotten sick the day after the fire and had to stay home.

Tubbo and I have deducted that this house is too close to the hero base for a rescue, but Kit is a stubborn f*ck who will probably attempt it anyway.

Logically I know it will be at least a week before Ranboo wakes up, but logic doesn't do anything for the anxiety that courses through my body.

Also, there has been nothing other than JS attacks on the news, including the fire in Las Nevadas.

So we was staying in a house with our enemies/my co-workers, bored and anxiety filled.

To make matters worse, Sparrow is always eyeing my wings, and I have to work harder to hide my chain.

Atlas and Sparrow are very cautious around both of us, but Jubilee will talk to us like he's known us his whole life.

"Will you stop staring at my wings?" I asked slightly annoyed.

"Sorry, I just- do you ever preen?" Sparrow asked.

"Preen?"

"Y'know, pull out all the old feathers? Straighten them? Smooth them out?"

"Uh. . . No?" I thought about it for a moment, "Astro usually straightens out my feathers a bit so I can glide smoothly, but I've never preened before."

Sparrow looked as if he was going to have an aneurysm.

"You've never preened before?" He asked incredulously, "What about your parents?"

I scoffed, "Alright old man, let's get a few things straight; I don't have parents, none of us do, the only thing that's keeping us from leaving is Astro, I'm not interested in preening, and you are not touching my wings."

I whipped around, causing a few of my feathers to fall to the floor, and walked back to "our" room.

Tubbo was sitting on the side of the bed, braiding small braids into Ranboo's hair. There wasn't much for us to do, and it made both of us antsy and twitchy.

I sat on the other side of the bed, and looked at my wings. Sparrow was right, they looked really shabby compared to his, or even Joker's, especially because several of them were blackened and burned.

I have tried to fix myself up, or preen as Sparrow called it, but it sends chills up my spine any time I try.

Smooth gloved hands press a sponge to my back, scrubing away the dirt and grime that builds up. A gloved finger runs along the scars, telling me to bring my wings out.

I do so, and hands are stuck in my wings, washing the feathers and making them shiny.

It makes me want to scream, but I can't. The hands pull out feathers, and smooth the rest that always get ruffled or ripped up in the games.

Lethe doesn't get a bath, but instead get wiped clean with cloths that sting cuts and our noses.

Then the gloved hands sprinkle more white powder onto me, that burns my cuts, and when I'm really unlucky, my eyes.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Tubbo opened it, and Jubilee stepped in.

"Do you guys want to spar?"

___________________________

Two for two, good job me!

Also, the white powder is bleaching powder for anyone wondering.

Have a good day/night my friends! 💙