Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 18: My best friend's boyfriend is an asshole

Mecha was bleeding on his kitchen floor.

Tubbo was bleeding on his kitchen floor.

Tommy tried to control the rapid breaths as they left him, but they refused to concede. His mind raced. His heart pounded. Every little lie he'd told himself was falling apart at the seams.

Tubbo never kept huge secrets for long.

Tubbo would eventually confess who he was sneaking out to see every day.

Tubbo would never hide something like this from him.

Except he would. And he did.

This was worse than an intruder breaking into his home. This was worse than having some stranger's blood staining his carpet. This was worse than any possible scenario he could've imagined.

Tubbo was Tubbo. He was amazing with his gift, but he was always content to stay in the background. He never wanted center stage in anything they did. He was introverted, downright shy at times. He was only comfortable around Tommy, and that was because of years of friendship.

Mecha was a loud vigilante. He actively put effort into attracting attention. The camera would always be on him during fights. Even his fighting style was flashy. To an untrained eye, he was practically perfect. Tommy only found faults recently because of his training, but even then he could never hope to beat the vigilante one on one.

Was he really supposed to believe they were the same person?

The jacket could've passed as just a lookalike, but the goggles were indisputable. People on reddit had tried to recreate them, and some believable replicas had been produced, but for those without a technologically-related gift, it was nearly impossible to perfect.

The lenses were one-way mirrors, and the rims buzzed with assorted wires and lights. From the angle in which Tommy stood, he could see within the goggles, and realized there had to be a mini-computer built in. It was extraordinary, and it set its creator apart from the rest.

Tommy had always enjoyed watching Mecha's battles because of his use of technology. Heroes were licensed, specially trained, and usually in possession of a magic item. Mecha had only his mind to help him. He viewed the vigilante as someone who could've realistically been anyone.

Except for Tubbo. For some reason, that was the one person he had not expected, but that shouldn't have been the case.

It was his own prejudice that blocked out his best friend as a suspect. With each passing second, he connected more dots that he hadn't noticed before; Tubbo was never around to witness Mecha's fights live, always sneaking out during his free-time, carrying around the suspicious bag, and finding a sudden interest in fitness.

All the while, his roommate must've been meeting with Blink and kicking ass. Tommy couldn't wrap his head around everything.

A groan from Tubbo shoved him back to reality. His best friend was bleeding on their kitchen floor, halfway between conscious and dead.

Tommy knelt beside him, going over everything he knew about first-aid. Tubbo flinched, and Tommy whispered a silent apology for any pain he might cause him. He removed Tubbo's battered jacket as quickly as possible.

His shirt underneath was torn, but his back was not the wounded area. The blood was very obviously seeping from his stomach, which meant he had to turn Tubbo over. Tommy braced himself.

All at once, so as not to prolong the pain, he flipped over his best friend. Tommy didn't like what he saw.

At least four bigger cuts covered his torso, and hundreds of little scrapes colored his torso. They looked almost like slashes of some sort. As long as it wasn't a stab or bullet wound, he didn't have time to overanalyze the cause.