Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 14: Who needs enemies with friends like these

Tubbo didn't want to get out of bed. His boss let him call out of work, but he would've skipped whether he was allowed to or not. His pillow was cold and his blankets were warm.

His stomach could complain as much as it wanted to, but he wasn't moving. That didn't mean he was sleeping though. How could he? He'd witnessed dozens of his beloved robots being crushed by some stupid hero. It wasn't exactly inspirational.

Tubbo adored building, of course, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend another week remaking what had been lost. He should be zipping around the city on patrol, not locking himself in his warehouse to work.

Tommy would be worried about him. He was a good roommate, and a better friend. If he hadn't already left to go to Ender-Ice, Tubbo was certain he would be fretting over him. Tommy was someone he trusted with his life. He hated lying to him about being Mecha.

Wait.

Tubbo scrambled out of bed, ignoring the way his legs protested the sudden movement. He rushed into the other room and almost collapsed from relief at the sight of his backpack exactly where he left it, untouched.

He trusted Tommy. His best friend wouldn't snoop. Tubbo regretted doubting him.

Tubbo also regretted standing up. If his hunger pains were bad before, now they were eating him alive. He thanked Tommy even more when he found leftover pizza in the fridge.

What would he do without his best friend?

Truthfully, he didn't know. Tubbo was completely dependent on him. Their apartment was courtesy of Tommy's uncle and they never worried about groceries because of his allowance. It left them with enough pocket change to indulge in whatever they wanted that month; Tubbo usually got machine parts, and Tommy was making his dream PC set-up.

While munching on his cold pizza, he wandered to his backpack. He hadn't noticed a yellow sticky note sitting on top of it. Tommy's messy hand-writing was hard to mistake:

Dear Tubbo,

I didn't look in your bag. I just want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. I'll always accept you for you, big guy. Hope your next date goes better!

-Tommy

Tubbo deadpanned. He re-read it multiple times to make sure it wasn't just his dyslexia confusing things. It wasn't. Tommy really wrote that.

"What the fuck does he mean by date," Tubbo muttered aloud.

It hit him all at once.

When he finally gained the courage to reveal his identity to Tommy, he was so dead.

Blink would crack up if he heard.

No.

The urge to throw on his jacket and go searching for his vigilante companion was overwhelming, but he knew better. After their fight with a certain hero the previous night, he didn't think he'd be able to face him.

It had been one day since everything went wrong.

~~~~

The patrol had been going normally. Mecha was out later because Tommy would still be at the gym, and Blink was chattering next to him. They were hanging out in the middle of an empty street.

Mecha kept checking his watch, waiting for his bots to tell him about a mugging or a robbery, but nothing was coming through. It wasn't necessarily bad. They had slow days from time to time.

He should've known better.

At the first sight of a playing card landing in the street, Mecha latched onto Blink's arm and called his bots. Smoke billowed around them as it had the last time, and Ace emerged from the clouds, dramatic as always.