𝟎𝟔. 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞

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𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖

As badly as you wanted to curl up into a tight ball and sleep away the rest of the afternoon, you were too nice to leave the rest of Color War prep to your coworkers. Either that or you were afraid of being left alone with your thoughts for even a split second longer. But you would never admit the latter.

"Will you—hold still!" you laughed as Tommy squirmed beneath you, nose scrunching up as you dabbed blue facepaint across his cheeks. He saw you helping the younger campers and you knew once he casually jumped in line that he wouldn't leave until you gave him the same treatment that you had been giving the seven-year-olds.

"Why don't you make me?" He snickered with his eyes closed. His thumbs were once again hooked through your belt loops as you sat on your knees in front of him on the wooden campfire bleachers. With his eyes shut, he didn't even notice as you took a glob of paint out of the jar and used the end of your brush to splatter electric blue all across his face.

You scrambled out of his hold while he sat there in shock. A few onlooking campers began shrieking with laughter as he rose up and wiped the largest glob off of his nose. You should've known once he got that evil look in his eye that you needed to run, but you waited for a second too long and he caught you immediately with his arms around your middle.

"Tommy!" You cackled as he spun you around in the air. You could almost hear Cindy's voice from afar, telling the two of you to stop purpling in front of the children. Camp Nightwing honored the color system to a fault, whether that meant boys and girls or red and blue camp shirts.

Tommy lowered you back down to the grass after a few long torturous moments. You spun around to yell at him with a playful glare but instantly dropped the act when you saw his blank face blinking right down at you, his cobalt eyes flickering solid black for an entire second. It happened so quickly that you thought you might've imagined it, but then he blinked once and his baby blues returned to normal. It was as if nothing had happened.

You lurched forward as Tommy gripped the side of his head with a painful wince. "Hey, what's wrong?" You asked quietly, allowing him to lean onto your arm for support.

His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes pooling with pain and confusion. "I don't...I don't know. I've been off since this morning."

"Do you need to lie down?" You asked, trying to casually inspect his eyes up close. There was no way that they didn't just turn completely black. That was like a whole new level of seeing things. A psycho level.

A level you weren't willing to consider just yet.

Before he could reply, a camper ran over and began tugging on the hem of Tommy's cut-off shirt. Any ounce of discomfort was immediately shaken off as he braved a smile down at the little Shadyside boy who was wringing a tattered blue cloth in his tiny fists.

"Mr. Slater, can you help us hide the flag?"

You bit the inside of your cheek wearily as he reached down and ruffled the boy's hair. They were so lucky to have someone like him as a role model. Someone that proved that being born on the wrong side of the tracks didn't immediately make you a bad person. Tommy deserved someone like that growing up. You both did.

Maybe if you had, things wouldn't have ended up the way they did.

"Of course, kiddo," he answered without hesitation. If the kid noticed the strain in his voice, he said nothing as he ran back to his friends.

"Tommy..." you sighed.

"I'm fine. Really. Go direct your team to their bases and tell Kurt where our jail spot is. I'll catch up with you later."

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇Where stories live. Discover now