Chapter Text
The first thing Tommy noticed was his massive headache. It felt like someone was pounding a hammer from the inside of his skull, sending waves of throbbing agony throughout it. The next thing he noticed was that he was in a bed, a rather comfortable one at that. That didn’t make sense; the last thing he remembered, he was leaving the café he worked at. Something was wrong here.
Tommy cracked his eyes open only to be met by a blinding light. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned; his eyeballs were throbbing now along with his head. His ears were ringing, which was only making his headache worse. He heard whispers, sounding almost as if they were coming from underwater.
Something cold was pressed against his forehead. Tommy whimpered and attempted to jerk his head away, though it was more of a sluggish tilt than anything. “Shh, everything’s alright. It’s only water.” He heard a deep voice say. Tommy cracked one of his eyes open again. A blur of yellow was hovering over him, stroking his forehead. Tommy’s eyes flew open, the light still assaulting them.
“W-what’s going on?” He cried. The blur of yellow - which was apparently a person - backed off. Tommy attempted to sit up on his elbows, but a hand gently pinned him back down on the bed. The cold was back on his forehead, dripping down into his eyes.
He could see the person clearer now. He had brown curls that dangled in front of brown eyes that were framed by circular glasses. He was wearing a yellow sweater and black pants. A look of pity and concern was plastered on his face. “Relax, everything’s okay,” the man said.
“Where…?”
“Now’s not the time for questions,” He said. “Can you swallow pills?” Tommy nodded. “Good. Bottoms up, then.” The man opened his palm to reveal an orange tablet. “Don’t worry, it’s only ibuprofen.” Tommy took the pill, a glass of water pressed to his lips shortly after.
It was only now that Tommy was able to absorb his surroundings. He was in a simple, undecorated bedroom. The walls and floor were plain white, as were the sheets. The only other furniture in the room was a bedside table, a dresser, and a desk. There was a door on one of the walls. If it wasn’t for the other furniture, he would have assumed he was in a hospital.
“My name’s Wilbur by the way.” The man - Wilbur - told him as he took the now empty glass and turned from him to place the cup down. “What’s yours?”
“Tommy Innes.”
Wilbur held his hand up. “Don’t say your last name, you might as well forget it.”
“Where am I?” Tommy croaked out.
“The Birdcage.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The Birdcage. That’s what it’s called, at least by us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, there’s plenty more people in this place.” Wilbur stood and stretched. “They’re a bit too shy to meet you right now, but they’ll come around eventually.” How many people had this man kidnapped?
He craned his neck to look at Wilbur, who still had his back turned. It was then that Tommy saw it: the back of the shirt was cut out to reveal a large pair of bird’s wings tattooed on his back. Wilbur turned around and saw Tommy's shocked expression. He gave him a gentle smile that never reached his eyes. “I guess you saw my wings, huh?” Tommy nodded, eyes still wide. “They’re cuckoo bird wings.”
“When did you get them?”
Wilbur sat down on the end of Tommy’s bed. “I was forced to get them. You should be getting your own pair; that is if you’re old enough.” Wilbur shifted on the bed, uneasy with the subject. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Wilbur nodded, a grim expression crossing his face. “Then you’re old enough to get your wings.” He stood and handed Tommy a folded piece of fabric. “Here, some clothes.” Tommy held up the shirt. From the front, it looked like a regular red shirt. But when he turned the shirt around, he saw that the back was cut out. “Phil doesn’t like us covering up our wings,” Wilbur explained.
Tommy set the clothes down. “Who’s Phil?”
“The one who brought us here.” Wilbur walked over to the doorway. “No more questions right now. Get changed and knock on the doorway when you’re done.”
“There’s no doors?” Tommy asked, incredulous.
Wilbur shook his head. “Nope. Only walls - that come down when Phil wants to keep us hidden.” With that, Wilbur left the room, hiding behind one of the walls. Tommy’s limbs fumbled as he changed. How did he get here? What did this Phil guy want from him? Questions were swirling through his head a mile a minute, and soon it became hard to concentrate. Tommy knocked on the doorway and stepped out of the bedroom.
The hallway was the same white as the bedroom. There were several other doorways, and he could spy some other bedrooms through the doorless doorways. For a brief second, Tommy could swear that he saw a flash of brown in one of the doorways. At the end of the hallway, the white faded away into a dark, stone-like material. Wilbur gently placed a hand on Tommy’s back and guided him towards the stone-looking section. He could hear the sound of water on the other side of the tunnel.
The sight Tommy was greeted with was - as much as he hated to admit it - spectacular. He stood under a giant waterfall, which opened into a pond underneath his feet. Greenery of all kinds were planted around a giant atrium. Flowers of different shapes and colors blossomed everywhere. Stone paths danced between all the shrubs and the trees. The walls were painted with painstaking details to look like a forest, but it didn’t hide the fact that it was solid concrete. A giant glass dome made up the roof, letting in the early afternoon sun. Birds darted around the atrium, their high-pitched songs filling the air.
“What the hell is this place?” Tommy asked.
Wilbur smiled half-heartedly. “Welcome to The Birdcage.”
-0-
Tommy found himself dangling his bare feet in the cool pond water. Wilbur had left him there a while ago, saying he had to grab somebody. Tommy wanted to explore the area and find a place to escape, but he was scared of what would happen if he disobeyed Wilbur. For all Tommy knew, he was in alliance with this Phil guy.
Tommy poked at a lilypad. How exactly did he get here? From what he could remember, his shift at the café was normal, no creepy figures or anything. But there must have been something wrong with it, because if it were normal, he wouldn’t be here. He tried his best to conjure up any memory of the previous night, but his mind drew a blank. Tommy huffed out of frustration.
“Tommy?” His head shot up as he spun around. Wilbur was back, but with another person in tow this time. This guy was massive. He had muscular limbs and broad shoulders, making him look even more intimidating. The man had tattoo sleeves on both of his arms. If Tommy looked hard, he could see a few cartoonish pigs in the sleeves. His long, pink hair was braided down his back. And despite his horrifying appearance, the man had a gentle smile on his face.
The man held his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy. My name’s Technoblade, but you can call me Techno.” Reluctantly, Tommy took his hand and shook it. Techno then yanked him up into a standing position.
“So Tommy, I’m going to be the one giving you your wings,” Techno said. “Don’t ask if you can pick them out, because the answer is no. Phil already picked out the wings you’ll be getting. It’s going to take a few weeks to finish them up. Wil and I will help you take care of it because I can’t imagine you’ve had a tattoo before. Got any questions?”
Tommy shook his head. Did he want a tattoo at one point? Of course, what teenager didn’t? But this wasn’t how he imagined getting his first one, and he certainly didn’t want a giant pair of bird wings tattooed on him. Techno smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Great. I know this is sudden, but we’re gonna have to start today. If you’ll follow me, please.” Before Tommy could protest, Techno grabbed him by the wrist and began to walk him down one of the pathways.
It was during this walk that Tommy saw more details of the garden. There was a sandy beach on the other end of the pond, a few towels spread out on it. He spotted a couple of butterflies fluttering by. The flowers somehow managed to be even more vibrant up close, looking like paintings come to life. There were bird feeders dispersed throughout the garden, each one filled to the brim with seeds. A few birds were gathered around one of the feeders, happily pecking at the food.
Techno led him through another doorway down another white hall. Except instead of bedrooms, this one had different rooms. Tommy saw a well-stocked library with a warm, artificial fire burning in the fireplace. There was a dining room with several chairs. The one at the head of the table was intricately carved with a plush backing.
Tommy looked at Techno’s back. He also had wings, but his also had a sword in between them. The blade, like the wings, was full of details. “What kind of wings do you have?” Tommy asked.
“Golden eagle,” Techno bluntly replied.
They stopped at a room with a closed door. Techno punched a code into a keypad next to the door. Tommy tried to memorize it, but Techno turned his back to him, blocking his view. The door slid open, and Tommy was gently pushed inside. “That’s a door,” Tommy said, eyebrows raised in shock. The astute observation prompted a dry laugh from the burly man. “Well, Wilbur said there weren’t any-” Techno cut him off, “It’s so no one gets into the tattoo equipment.” He explained as the door clicked open.
The room was sterile with white walls and a tiled floor. A chair sat in the middle of the room, with a metal table next to it. A variety of small containers and needles were sitting on the table. Tommy froze, causing Technoblade to bump into him. “Is there a possible way to skip out on this?”
Techno chuckled as he slipped some rubber gloves on. “Unfortunately, it’s not up to me. Trust me, kid, it didn’t hurt much when I got my wings.” He patted the chair. “Come on, take your shirt off and lay down.” With shaking hands, Tommy removed his shirt and laid down on his stomach, the cold leather sending a shiver down his spine.
Tommy tensed as he heard the machine start up. Techno gently rubbed circles into his back. “Hey, relax or this is going to turn out badly. Phil doesn’t like it when his wards’ wings turn out bad.” The machine stopped buzzing, and soon Techno was crouched next to him. “Hey, I can give you something if you’re having trouble relaxing.”
“No!” Tommy exclaimed. “No. Just…just get it over with.”
Techno nodded and placed something in Tommy’s hand. It was one of those squishable stress balls that he had seen at his therapist’s office before. “Squeeze that if it starts to hurt too bad. We can take breaks too.” Before he knew it, the machine started up again, and the needle was gliding across his skin.