Work Text:
Tommy is a professional at his job. He never had a single complaint from any of his clients and he’s constantly considered the best at what he does. Some would say that he is the coolest or simply the greatest. He doesn’t mind any of the compliments, most of them fuel him to complete his jobs. Even so, Tommy hadn’t always been the best. In the beginning, he was scared and naïve, barely an adult and still living with his dad.
You see, Tommy is a killer; a mercenary, an assassin. He could make anyone disappear for a price, even if it’d be his sanity.
Eventually, he did find a strategy for his work. Whenever he would take up a job, he’d simply disconnect from his surroundings. As long as Tommy wasn’t aware of the blood he’d spill, his stability was nothing to worry about. His strategy worked, for the most part, that is until tonight.
It had been a normal string of jobs, he had gotten all of them done and was finally at his last house. There had been a sense of deja vu as he stepped toward it, but he decidedly ignored the feeling. He was quiet enough to sneak in and make it to his victim’s room. Following the loud familiar snoring from the hallway. It wasn’t long before he stood above the man, slowly taking his knife from the back of his pant pocket.
Tommy was becoming irritated by the annoying snoring and it unknowingly released him from his mind. He looked down at the man before him with a scowl, only to find himself over his own brother’s bed with a knife in his hands. Tommy took a deep inhale, stepping back from Wilbur and hitting straight into the side table next to his bed causing him to hiss out in pain and ultimately wake his brother.
“Tommy?” Wilbur said groggily, blinking the sleep from his eyes “What are you doing here?”
The blond stared at his now awake brother, sliding the knife into his back pocket. “Wilbur, Big Man! What a nice home you’ve got here”
“What time is it?”
Looking at Wilbur’s alarm clock, Tommy answers with an embarrassed smile. “Around 4 in the morning”
“What?!” Wilbur flung up from his bed.
“So, Wil,” Tommy started, grabbing a bloody notepad from his pocket. “Do you have enemies that’d want you dead?”
“WHAT?!”
The blond sighed as he began walking toward the exit of the room. Knowing his brother, it’d be a while until he’d be ready to talk. “We’ll talk in the kitchen,” Tommy said, closing the door behind him “I’ll make some coffee”
Turning on the hallway light, he made his way toward the kitchen; now able to see the family pictures on the walls. Tommy hadn’t thought about it until now but he is beginning to consider doing more research on his victims before showing up at their houses. Then again, he had a hard enough time when he started killing them without knowing about their families and home life.
Tommy stopped at the sight of the door in the middle of the hallway. Drawings, stickers, and crayon marks all over it. Quietly, he tiptoed past the door; ensuring that he wouldn’t wake up his nephew. For a moment, Tommy wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t realized where he was. If he hadn’t been brought back to reality by Wilbur’s insistent snoring.
Clearing the thought from his mind, he made his way into the kitchen; starting the coffee machine and grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. Tommy would’ve considered running from his current situation if it wouldn’t put Wilbur’s life in danger, plus what would he tell everyone at the next family reunion. An annoying noise from the coffee machine overtook his attention, pouring the black coffee into both mugs.
He left Wilbur’s on the counter next to him as the steps from down the hallway began to become louder. “Tommy, you better have an explanation-“ Wilbur stopped at the archway of the kitchen, staring at him.
Slowly, Tommy took a sip of coffee from Wilbur’s “World’s Best Dad” mug.
“Thomas Careful Danger Kraken Theseus Innit Craft,” Tommy shrank under his brother’s gaze. “You have better a damn good explanation for why you’re covered in blood!” At that moment, Tommy took a second to look down at his person; seeing his clothes and skin visibly stained with blood.
Tommy hadn’t exactly taken the chances with explaining his morally ambiguous career choice to his family.
He wasn’t sure how they’d react, but it wasn’t just that, there were many reasons to keep his secret under wraps. For starters, his entire family was under the eye of the public as his father and both of his brother’s were famous. His dad; Phil Craft, was a director. He led actors and helped scripters succeed in their art. Tommy could still remember running around different famous movie sets as a kid. His brother; Techno Craft, was an author. His writing inspired millions across the world, even though his inspiration led to full blown government attacks. Techno’s books were basically the only ones Tommy had read.
Lastly, there was Wilbur. He was a model. He had been scouted out when he was in high school, Tommy remembers helping him choose outfits and practice his walk after school. He had decided to stick with modeling after high school. Wilbur told everyone that it was because of the pay but Tommy knew that he had fallen for a girl during one of his modeling gigs.
Surprisingly, Sally liked him back. They ended up getting married after a few years of dating and had a son. If Tommy remembered correctly, Sally was currently across the world, modeling for a grand tour modeling show.
Tommy knew his career was a risk, one wrong move and he’d take his entire family down with him but Tommy was smart enough to know how to handle himself.
“Explain, Tommy.” Wilbur said furiously.
Well… everyone is bound to make mistakes eventually.
“Fine, the truth is,” Tommy muttered, looking toward the floor “I’m a hired killer, someone is paying me to kill you,” A silence overtook the room, causing Tommy to look up at his brother. Wilbur still seemed to be in between confused and shocked, Tommy decided to continue. “Now, I have to find the person who wants you dead because when they find out you’re alive, they’ll send someone else '' Tommy took another sip of coffee. “So, who’d want you dead?”
Instead of responding, Wilbur started laughing hysterically.
“Is this some sort of prank, Tommy?!” He yelled, taking fast steps toward his brother. “I’m really not in the fucking mood”
“Wil, you’re gonna wake up Fundy” Tommy attempted to calm Wilbur.
“My babysitter canceled for tomorrow and my manager signed me for some stupid fucking gig because the last guy is in the hospital after an accident on set” He continuously complained, not allowing Tommy to get in a word. “So, I now have to bring Fundy with me.”
“Wil-“
“My assistant is to incompetent to make a good fucking coffee, My wife is across the country and now you’re in my house covered in fake blood at four in the morning for some prank” Wilbur was panting by the time he finished his rant.
Tommy gave his brother a moment to take a breather, passing him the second coffee he’d just made. Wilbur took it as he leaned back against the marble counters. He took a sip of the drink, spitting it out a second later.
“This is disgusting, What’s in this?”
“Right, so tell me more about the guy in the accident,” Tommy began speaking, ignoring Wilbur and flipping to a cleaner page of his blood covered notebook. “Do you think it could’ve possibly been on purpose?”
“What? Tommy, are you still on this dumb hired killer prank?” Wilbur groaned, placing his mug in the sink.
“It’s not a fucking prank, dumbass” Tommy said irritated. “I was hired to kill you, so either let me help you or get your shitty assistant to start planning your funeral.”
“Fine, I’ll play along” Wilbur rolled his eyes, walking toward Tommy. “Someone is trying to kill me, how do we find out who it is?”
“Well, all of my clients usually have a personal score to settle with the victim” Tommy sighed, jumping up to sit on the counter. “Is it possible that someone would want that spot in the show tomorrow so much that they’d kill for it?”
Wilbur was silent for a moment, thinking over the possible suspects. “Well, the model’s understudy was supposed to take their place after their accident,” He stated, taking a seat next to Tommy. “But, my manager offered me up for the role before they were even considered”
Tommy hummed, writing Wilbur’s statement into his notebook.
“It’s likely that the understudy is trying to get the role for themselves,” The blond said, closing the notebook with a single flip. “Could I come to work with you tomorrow, and see if this guy is really a killer?”
Wilbur paused. “Wait, you’re actually serious about all of this?”
Tommy nodded.
“Someone tried to kill me…” Wilbur said, beginning to come to a scary realization. “You’re a murderer?!”
Again, Tommy nodded.
“My brother is a murderer!” Wilbur continued with fake enthusiasm. “You kill people!”
“We have no time for this, Wil” Tommy cut him off, taking one last gulp of his coffee before jumping off the counter and placing the mug in the sink. “I’m going to sleep in your guest room tonight, just to make sure nothing happens during the night.”
“Oh! Something like an assassin sneaking into my home?” The corners of Wilbur’s mouth twitched slightly while speaking.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll watch Fundy while you’re at work,” Tommy offered. “As an apology.”
The brunette stared for a moment before bringing his hand to his face, attempting to rub the distress away. “Take a shower before you get in the bed, I’ll leave some extra clothes in the guest room.” Tommy nodded along as he walked toward the exit of the kitchen as Wilbur stayed sitting on the counter. He let himself turn his head slightly, catching a fearful image of his brother.
“Thank you, Wilbur,” Tommy said slowly, trying to find the right words. “I promise, everything will be okay”
Wilbur hummed uncertainly.
“Before I forget, who did you say the model’s understudy was?”
“Quackity Nevadas.”
. . .
“Sorry I’m late, this is my son and my younger brother,” Wilbur said to one of the production organizers. “I couldn’t find a babysitter so Tommy will be here watching Fundy.” The organizer only gave a small nod before pointing Wilbur to his dressing room and walking away. Tommy followed behind his older brother with a small hand in his as Fundy trailed beside them.
The kid was ecstatic to have the opportunity to go to work with his dad, but anyone could sense that Wilbur was in a bad mood; so the kid was doing his best to keep quiet. Even Wilbur’s assistant was avoiding him, they had given him a fearful look as he walked into the backstage area.
Wilbur held the door open for both Tommy and Fundy as they walked into the dressing room, breaking the silence as he yelled to his assistant. “Friend, grab me a coffee!” Tommy could only wonder what kind of parent would name their kid ‘Friend’.
The brunette shut the door behind him, looking back over to Fundy and Tommy. The kid had already found a comfortable couch to nap on as Tommy began his search for evidence. “Alright, so where can I find Quackity?” Tommy questioned, pacing around the room. “How should I get rid of him?”
Fundy lifted his head. “Get rid of him?”
Tommy’s eyes widened at his brother, who was already walking toward his son. “Uncle Tommy is just offering Quackity a vacation.”
“Like the camping trip that we went on?” Fundy concluded, yawning through his sentence.
Wilbur nodded, grabbing a blanket from the bag of Fundy’s things. “We made marshmallows and went fishing, remember?” The boy hummed as he snuggled under the blanket Wilbur had put over him. The brunette smiled at his son. “and you caught the biggest fish, my little champion.”
When there was no response from Fundy, Wilbur turned back to Tommy angrily.
“We should talk outside,” Tommy suggested, walking toward the door. As he opened it, Tommy was met face to face with Wilbur’s assistant. They had blue dyed hair and brown eyes, she was holding her hand up as if they were about to knock; there was a coffee in their other hand.
“Sorry, I was just- you know- the coffee” Friend stuttered, showing the lidded coffee cup to Tommy as they did so.
“I’ll take that off you,” Tommy replied, grabbing the coffee from Friend’s hand. “Mr. Craft will be sure to drink this.”
Friend nodded, walking away as quickly as they showed up. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur, who was now close behind him. They continued their way toward the back alley, making sure not to attract any suspicion. The air was colder as it was almost wintertime. Differently colored leaves surrounded them, crunching under their step as they walked into the alley. “Next time think before you talk about murder around my son,” Wilbur whisper yelled at Tommy. “He doesn’t need to know about any of this.”
“Sorry, that's on me,” Tommy nodded. “I’ve really missed Fundy, he’s a good kid.”
Wilbur gave him a pointed look, causing Tommy to sigh. “Where can I find Quackity, does he usually hang around certain people?” Tommy began his planning. “How can I get information on him?”
“You’ll find him around Foolish and Slimecicle,” Wilbur replied. “Also, that coffee belongs to me.”
“Interesting,” Tommy said, taking a sip of the coffee; only to spit it out a moment later. “What is this?!”
“My shitty assistant’s attempt to make a fucking coffee!” Wilbur groaned, walking back to the door. “Just keep it, I’ve got to get my work done.”
“Right, be safe!” The blond managed to say before Wilbur was gone. He looked back to the coffee and took another sip, spitting it out again. “He really needs a new assistant.” Tommy pried off the lid taking a small sniff of the drink, it was sweet; a smell he couldn’t place. “How can people drink sweet coffee?” He questioned to himself, spilling the drink out in the alley. “No thanks, I’ll stick to the normal shit.”
There was a noise from behind the dumpsters that made the blond flinch, he was quick to go inside; not wanting to be jumped or attacked by hungry raccoons.
. . .
As Tommy walked about the building, he could hear Wilbur yelling for his assistant. The blond rolled his eyes. Scanning the room he was able to spot a man who looked like his target. Tommy began to make his way toward the man, hand on the gun he was carrying in his hoodie pocket.
“Quackity Nevadas?”
The man turned quickly, a huge smile across his face. He had black hair, covered by a beanie, and a huge scar over his right eye. “The one and only,” Quackity greeted, holding out his hand. “Are you a fan?”
Tommy examined the man for a moment, he didn’t seem very unfriendly; quite the opposite. “Unfortunately not, I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”
His smile was quick to disappear into a frown. “This must be about Connor, I already told the cops, I have an alibi”
Tommy frowned his eyebrows at this new information. “What would that be?”
The man scoffed, placing his coffee on the table. “I was practicing my walk with Foolish, there’s security video evidence!”
The blond thought for a moment, keeping direct eye contact with the model. “Show it to me.” Quackity groaned as he began walking to the security room, Tommy trailing behind him. The man had an alibi but still, Tommy couldn’t let his only lead go. The man left a weird taste in his mouth, or maybe that was just the coffee.
Still, He had to be sure. With one hand on his gun, Tommy walked through the doorway of the security room. When Quackity began typing on the computer, the blond quickly took out his gun; pointing it at the man’s head.
“Don’t turn around,” Tommy commanded, causing Quackity to freeze as he felt cold metal touch his head. “You tried to kill my brother, I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“I’m not the right guy!”
“Quiet.” Tommy’s voice was cold and distant. “It’s over for you, Big Q”
The blond’s finger touched the trigger of his gun but as someone from behind pushed him to the side, his gun flew toward them. “Tommy!” Wilbur yelled, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”
Tommy exhaled sharply and fell into his brother’s waiting arms. It was silent as Wilbur held him safely. The peace interrupted when Quackity clicked a button on the keyboard, showing a video of him practicing his walk when there was a scream from off screen.
Tommy looked to the floor embarrassed as Wilbur groaned. “I’m sorry Quackity, how much to keep this situation quiet?”
“I’ll have my assistant give you the sum, Wilbur Craft.” Quackity sighed, hitting against Wilbur’s shoulder as he walked out.
The blond moved to face Wilbur, being greeted by nothing but anger. “Wil, listen-“
“No Tommy, you listen,” Wilbur snapped, grabbing Tommy by his hoodie collar. “You’ve done nothing but fuck things up since you decided to show your face.”
“Wilbur-“
“There’s no one trying to kill me, you’re just insane,” He continued his rant. “You need help, professional help.”
“Please-“
“I want you gone, right now,” Wilbur stated, his tone made it clear, there was nothing to argue.
Tommy looked down at the floor as he placed his gun back into his hoodie pocket. His head was pounding and the horrible taste in his mouth had gotten worse. “You’re right, I should go.” The blond decided, walking toward the exit with his head down. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be a good enough brother.”
Tommy didn’t stick around to hear whatever Wilbur said next, taking his leave and walking out of the room. Behind him, someone called for Wilbur, it was curtain call; the show was about to start. Tommy had already decided not to stay for it. As he walked past the snack table, Tommy grabbed a cookie and headed toward Wilbur’s dressing room.
He lightly knocked on the door, opening it slowly as he began speaking. “Are you awake, Fundy?”
When he didn’t get a reply, he decided to walk into the room fully. “It’s uncle Tommy, I’m just here to say goodbye before-“ Tommy froze in place as he stared at the sight in front of him, the cookie in his hand dropping to the floor.
“Uncle Toms,” Fundy cried as Friend pointed a gun toward the boy. “I’m scared.”
“Get away from him,” Tommy demanded from his position near the door. “He’s just a kid.”
“It was supposed to be Wilbur,” Friend tried to explain, moving the gun around near Fundy’s head. “He was supposed to be here!” Tommy’s shoulders tensed as he watched the sight, fearful for his nephew. He slowly reached for his gun, only for Friend to point theirs toward him.
“Don’t fucking move,” She said, holding Fundy by the back of his shirt in their other hand. “I’ll shoot you, trust me.”
“You don’t have to do that, just let him go,” Tommy attempted to bargain.
Friend laughed at his attempt. “It doesn’t matter, you’ll be dead soon anyway.”
The blond thought for a moment before realization hit. “The coffee.”
The assistant only nodded, laughing to themselves as they threw Fundy to the side. “It was poison meant for Wilbur, but you ruined that.”
“The sweet smell, it was citrus,” Tommy began to put the pieces together. “You were the one in the alley behind the dumpsters, why are you doing this?!”
“He ruined my life! I was supposed to be the one on that stage, not him!” Friend complained as she pushed past Tommy, still pointing a gun toward him. “Wilbur Craft spilled coffee on me when we were doing auditions, ruining my outfit and chances of ever getting the job.”
“Wil wouldn’t do that on purpose, it was an accident!”
Friend only scoffed. “That stupid assassin couldn’t do their damn job, so now I’ve got to get my hands dirty.” Suddenly, the poison began its course; The pounding in Tommy’s head began to become more forceful and he fell to his knees, letting Friend leave without a fight.
Fundy rushed toward his uncle, crying as he hugged him tightly. “Uncle Toms, is dad gonna be okay?”
“He’s going to be just fine,” Tommy gritted his teeth at the pain, trying to figure out a plan. “You stay here, don’t let anyone in the room.” Fundy nodded as he helped Tommy stand. The boy was quick to sit back down on the couch, tears still clinging to his eyes and face. Tommy gave his nephew a sad smile as he walked out of the room, closing the door tightly behind him.
Tommy watched as Friend climbed a ladder to the platforms above the stage, quietly following behind her. As he stared down at the stage below him, Tommy became dizzy; from the height or the poison was anyone’s guess. The blond watched one of the producers pointed Wilbur for his cue. As he was about to go on stage, Friend aimed their gun for the curtain, preparing to shoot Wilbur right as he stepped out.
Hastily, Tommy grabbed his gun from his hoodie pocket and pointed it toward Friend. He swayed as he perfectly lined the shot. The blond willed himself to detach from his surroundings but as time began to move fast, he took the shot.
A long bang echoed throughout the theater, followed by screaming and yelling. As something wetly hit the stage, Tommy had known he made the hit. He attempted to walk back to the ladder but soon found himself dizzily falling toward the ground.
There were dark spots in his vision as someone held him tightly in their arms. “Tommy! Toms!” Wilbur screamed, tears running down his face.
“Wil? Wilby,” Tommy whined at the pain, trying to hide in the fabric of Wilbur’s shirt from the lights blinding him. “You’re safe now, they’re dead.”
“Tommy, stay awake,” Wilbur said, panicked. “What happened? Tell me what happened.”
“She was going to kill you,” Tommy slurred. “The coffee was poisoned.”
“Shit!”
The spots around Tommy's vision began to grow as the pounding in his head worsened, he winced as Wilbur jostled him slightly. “I’ll be okay, Wil- Wilby,” Tommy coughed something red onto Wilbur’s clothes. “Sorry…"
“It’s fine, you’re fine Toms” The brunette comforted. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Tell Techno that his last book was really good,” Tommy hummed tiredly. “and tell Dad that I love him, I miss him and Techno.”
“You’ll tell them, Tommy, you will.”
“I’m tired, Wil.”
“Someone call an ambulance!” A voice yelled as the world slowly became darker around Tommy.
He was so tired.
. . .
“Michael, Shroud! It’s time to go!” Tommy yelled from the porch. “Say goodbye to Fundy!”
“But, Dad!” Shroud whined from where the trio was playing outside. “We finally agreed on a game!”
The blond smiled as he looked back at Ranboo and Tubbo who were already saying their goodbyes to his family. “Tubbo and Ranboo have work tomorrow, we’ve got to go home!” Three loud groans took up the air as the boys walked over to the house. The oldest of the three, Fundy still seemed a bit upset over his cousin's leaving; continuously complaining as they walked back into the house.
“If you leave then I’ll never see Shroud or Michael ever again, Uncle Toms!” The boy whined, pulling on the edge of Tommy’s shirt.
The boy’s father walked over with an amused smirk on his face. Wilbur pulled his son into a side hug as he began talking. “We have to leave too, Fundy,” Wilbur explained to his son. “Remember, your mom is waiting for us to pick her up at the airport.”
Suddenly, the boy’s attitude changed. “Oh right! Bye Shroud, bye Michael!” He waved, taking off toward the car, only stopping to grab his shoes by the front door.
“Fundy! Say goodbye to everyone!” Wilbur groaned with his head in his hands. Tommy watched as Michael and Shroud made their way toward Tubbo and Ranboo.
Michael was quickly picked up by one of his dads, Ranboo while Tubbo helped Shroud put his shoes on. The boys were going on and on about their pretend adventures with their cousin Fundy. Ranboo smiled and nodded, asking questions about their game. On the other hand, Tubbo was still having a hard time with Shroud’s shoelaces. “We’ll meet you in the car?” Ranboo questioned, earning a nod from Tommy.
Ranboo gave one more wave to Phil and Techno who were cleaning up in the kitchen as they left. Leaving Wilbur and Tommy in the living room. The blond was grabbing all of Shroud and Michael’s toys from the floor and couch, while Wilbur packed them away in Tommy’s bag. “Tubbo and Ranboo have work tomorrow?” Wilbur questioned.
“Yup,” Tommy replied, popping the ‘p’ as he grabbed a moth plushie from the floor.
“Tomorrow is Sunday, Tommy.” Wilbur sighed.
Tommy didn’t look toward his brother, freezing in place as he was caught in his lie. “You said you quit,” The brunette continued, staring disappointed at his brother. “You promised after you met Tubbo and Ranboo, after the accident.”
That much was true, Tommy had promised Wilbur that he’d stop his job after the accident and then again after meeting the platonically married duo. He had kept that promise for a bit, but after a while, his life of crime called for him again.
“I’m a dirty crime boy, Wilbur!” Tommy frowned. “You can’t blame me.”
“You have a kid,” Wilbur sighed. “Shroud needs his dad, it’s too dangerous, Toms.”
Tommy faltered at the mention of his son. After Tubbo and Ranboo had adopted Michael, he felt something was missing in his life, to which his married friends had suggested for him to consider adoption too. When he had seen Shroud, almost a year ago at that orphanage, he knew that the kid would be a perfect addition to their little family.
“Fine, this will be my last job,” Tommy promised.
“Tommy.”
“I’m serious, Wilbur!” He defended himself. “After this, it’s over.”
Wilbur sighed as he handed Tommy the bag of toys, quickly pulling his younger brother into a hug. “Stay safe for me.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Wil.”
“I will always worry, Toms.”
Tommy smiled at his brother, making his way toward the exit of his childhood home. As he pulled on his shoes, the blond shouted a quick goodbye to his older brother and dad. He and Wilbur had decided not to tell Phil and Techno about Tommy’s job, due to the fact that they weren’t sure how the duo would react.
It was easier if they didn’t know anyway, but Tommy is certain that Phil is probably onto him since he had started the business in his house.
“Bye, mate!” Phil shouted back, a smile clear as day in his voice. “Stay safe, we’ll see you next weekend!”
“So long, Theseus!” Techno called from the kitchen. Tommy laughed, closing the front door behind him.
. . .
Tommy is a professional at his job. He had only ever one complaint from his clients and he’s constantly considered the best at what he does. Some would say that he is the coolest or simply the greatest because Tommy is a natural killer. He could make anyone disappear for a price.
The blond held his knife close, slowly taking steps forward; earning a creak from the floorboards. Tommy winced.
Suddenly without warning, his victim launched themselves from their bed and lunged at him. The blond was quickly pinned to the floor with an elbow. Tommy stared in shock as pink hair began to come into vision. “Techno?”
“Theseus?”
“Shit.”