Chapter Text
Nick had never liked routine.
Routine bred carelessness.
Carelessness got people hurt.
Which was funny, really, because Chris seemed to thrive on it.
"You know," Chris announced, balancing on the edge of a five-story rooftop like gravity was merely a suggestion, "I think we've officially become cool."
Nick didn't bother looking up from the map on his phone.
"No."
Chris gasped dramatically.
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I mean," Nick deadpanned, "you're standing on the edge of a building in a hoodie with a hole in the sleeve. You look like you lost a fight with a washing machine."
"I happen to like this hoodie."
"It happened to lose."
Matt snorted.
Nick looked up just in time to see his youngest brother shove Chris's shoulder.
Chris shoved him back.
Matt shoved harder.
Chris stumbled three exaggerated steps before catching himself.
"Dude!"
"You deserved it."
"For what?"
"You'll figure something out."
Nick sighed.
Every patrol started like this.
The three of them climbed onto rooftops around sunset, wandered through Boston until two or three in the morning, stopped a mugging if they came across one, helped people where Heroes couldn't be bothered to show up...
...and spent approximately seventy percent of the night arguing.
It had become routine.
Nick hated how much he liked it.
Because routine meant Matt was smiling again.
That was worth putting up with Chris.
"...You know I can hear you thinking?" Chris narrowed his eyes.
"No, you can't."
"I can."
"You literally cannot."
"I have brother telepathy."
"You have two brain cells."
"They're doing their best."
Matt laughed.
Not forced.
Not quiet.
Actually laughed.
Nick's shoulders relaxed before he even realized they'd tensed.
There it is.
Three months ago...
Matt barely left his room.
Two months ago...
He barely spoke.
Now?
He laughed.
It wasn't all the time.
Some days therapy left him exhausted.
Some days he still flinched when strangers looked at him for too long.
Some days Nick found him sitting on his bedroom floor, trying to breathe through thoughts that refused to quiet down.
But those days were becoming fewer.
Winona was good.
Really good.
Matt still didn't think he deserved to get better.
But...
He'd started believing he could.
That was enough.
For now.
"...Nick?"
"Hm?"
"You've been staring."
Nick blinked.
Matt was looking at him with one eyebrow raised.
"Oh."
Nick shrugged.
"You've got something on your face."
Matt immediately started wiping at his cheek.
Chris leaned over dramatically.
"...Still there."
Matt frowned.
"What?"
"A nose."
"Oh, fuck you."
Chris burst into laughter.
Nick followed a second later.
Matt groaned.
"I hate both of you."
"No, you don't."
"...Unfortunately."
Nick slipped his phone back into his pocket.
"Come on."
He nodded toward the next rooftop.
"We've got another six blocks before we circle back."
Chris saluted.
"Aye aye, Captain Bossy."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"You never know."
"I literally just said I know."
Nick rolled his eyes.
"Move."
The city looked different from the rooftops.
Quieter.
Less rushed.
People became tiny specks weaving through glowing streets.
Cars looked almost peaceful.
From up here...
Boston almost felt safe.
Nick knew better.
Heroes stayed downtown.
The nicer neighborhoods.
The places cameras loved.
The places sponsors loved even more.
Their neighborhood?
Not so much.
Which explained why people stopped looking surprised whenever three masked vigilantes dropped into an alley to stop a robbery.
It also explained why little Mrs. Donnelly insisted on leaving cookies on her fire escape every Thursday.
Chris had cried the first time.
"I did not cry."
"You absolutely cried."
"My eyes were sweating."
Nick still teased him about it.
"You think she left cookies tonight?" Chris asked hopefully.
Nick sighed.
"You ask this every patrol."
"Because sometimes the answer is yes."
Matt smiled.
"I think today's Thursday."
Chris's entire face lit up.
Nick snorted.
"You're unbelievable."
"I'm motivated."
"By baked goods."
"The best kind of motivation."
Matt bumped Chris's shoulder.
"If there aren't cookies, I'm blaming you."
"There will be."
"And if there aren't?"
Chris looked horrified.
"There will be."
The fire escape...
Contained cookies.
Chris actually cheered.
"I TOLD YOU!"
Nick watched him nearly trip over himself climbing the ladder.
Matt laughed again.
God.
Nick would fight every Hero in Boston if it meant hearing that laugh more often.
Mrs. Donnelly had left a handwritten note beside the container.
For my favorite troublemakers.
Try not to get stabbed.
Chris clutched the note dramatically.
"She believes in us."
Nick stole a cookie.
"She believes you're idiots."
Matt took one too.
"...These are chocolate chip."
Chris looked personally offended.
"They're always chocolate chip."
"No complaints."
"No complaints."
Nick leaned against the brick wall, quietly watching his brothers.
Chris talking with his mouth full.
Matt pretending to be annoyed.
Chris insisting cookies tasted better on rooftops.
Matt arguing that was scientifically impossible.
Chris asking for scientific proof.
Matt actually trying to explain.
Nick smiled before he could stop himself.
"...What?"
He looked up.
Matt was watching him now.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You smiled."
"So?"
"You don't smile unless one of us does something stupid."
Chris pointed at himself proudly.
"I was doing something stupid."
"I know."
"So what changed?"
Nick looked between them.
"...Nothing."
Matt tilted his head.
"You've been weird lately."
Nick scoffed.
"I'm always weird."
"No."
Matt's smile faded just enough for Nick to notice.
"Different weird."
Chris stopped eating.
Nick hated that.
The way both of them could read him.
He'd spent years learning every tiny shift in their expressions.
Apparently...
They'd done the same.
"I'm fine."
Matt and Chris exchanged a look.
One of those silent conversations twins—
No.
Triplets.
Had.
Nick had no idea how they did it.
But they always did.
Chris shrugged first.
"If you say so."
"I do."
Matt didn't look convinced.
He let it go anyway.
Nick appreciated it more than he could say.
Two hours later...
The police scanner crackled.
"...possible armed robbery... abandoned textile warehouse... suspects believed enhanced..."
Nick was already standing.
Chris capped the cookie container.
Matt's shoulders straightened.
Routine.
Nick looked at both of them.
"You good?"
Chris nodded immediately.
Matt hesitated.
Only for half a second.
Then—
"Yeah."
Nick smiled.
"There he is."
Matt rolled his eyes.
"I hate when you do that."
"What?"
"The checking."
"I'm going to keep doing it."
"I know."
"You'll live."
Chris stretched dramatically.
"So..."
He cracked his knuckles.
"Think these guys are dumb enough to shoot at us?"
Nick sighed.
"They always are."
Matt snorted.
"They're usually worse shots than you."
Chris looked offended.
"I am an incredible shot."
"You hit yourself with a tranquilizer dart."
"...Once."
"You hit yourself twice."
"...The second time barely counts."
Nick couldn't help laughing.
The three of them jumped from the rooftop together.
Landing almost perfectly in sync.
Like always.
Like they'd been doing it their whole lives.
Nick had no way of knowing...
...that before sunrise—
He'd break the one promise he'd made to himself when he was eleven years old.
Never use mind control unless there's absolutely no other choice.
And this time...
There wasn't.
*
The warehouse was dark.
Not the comfortable kind of dark that settled over rooftops at two in the morning.
This darkness felt...
Wrong.
Heavy.
Like the building itself was holding its breath.
Nick landed first.
His boots barely made a sound against the cracked concrete.
Behind him came Chris, then Matt, each dropping into a crouch before instinctively scanning opposite directions.
Three people.
Three angles.
Years of practice.
Nothing.
"...Quiet," Chris murmured.
"Too quiet," Nick agreed.
Matt nodded once.
"The call came in less than three minutes ago."
"They couldn't have left already."
Nick motioned toward the stairwell.
"Split?"
Matt immediately shook his head.
"No."
Nick looked at him.
Matt rarely objected.
"...Bad feeling."
His voice wasn't anxious.
Just certain.
Nick didn't hesitate.
"Together, then."
Chris flashed Matt a grin.
"Ha."
Nick frowned.
"What?"
"I win."
"...About what?"
"I said we'd split up."
"You did."
"Matt said we'd stay together."
"He did."
"So I lose."
Chris blinked.
"...Wait."
Matt laughed quietly.
Nick rubbed a hand over his face.
"I have no idea how your brain works."
"It doesn't."
"That explains a lot."
Chris beamed.
"I know."
Second floor.
Nothing.
Third floor.
Old machinery.
Broken windows.
A pigeon.
Chris nearly punched the pigeon.
The pigeon won.
"That thing attacked me."
"It flew."
"It flew aggressively."
Nick ignored him.
Something...
Something wasn't sitting right.
The building was silent.
Too silent.
No footsteps.
No whispers.
No panicked hostage.
Nothing.
He reached for the earpiece.
"False alarm?"
Matt's hand caught his wrist.
Nick immediately stopped.
"What?"
Matt wasn't looking at him.
He was looking...
Past him.
Toward the far hallway.
"...Someone's breathing."
Nick froze.
He listened.
Nothing.
Chris frowned.
"I don't hear—"
There.
Barely.
A shaky inhale.
Followed by another.
Someone trying very, very hard not to make a sound.
Nick pointed.
Slowly.
The three of them moved together.
Every step measured.
Every movement silent.
The breathing got louder.
Closer.
Closer—
Then—
"HELP!"
A teenage boy stumbled out from behind a stack of rusted shelves.
Couldn't have been older than fifteen.
Hands zip-tied.
Blood running down one side of his face.
He sprinted toward them.
Nick caught him before he hit the floor.
"Easy."
The kid was hyperventilating.
"They—they're upstairs—"
Gunfire.
Three shots.
Concrete exploded beside them.
"...Found them," Chris muttered.
Five people.
Masks.
Weapons.
Definitely enhanced.
Nick recognized two immediately.
Low-level powered criminals.
Nothing they couldn't handle.
One manipulated kinetic force.
One had enhanced strength.
The other three...
Unknown.
One of them grabbed the kid's backpack.
"There he is!"
Nick's eyes narrowed.
"You kidnapped a teenager over a backpack?"
The tallest one laughed.
"Not the backpack."
He unzipped it.
Inside...
Glass vials.
Dozens of them.
Matt went still.
"...Experimental suppressants."
Nick's stomach dropped.
Illegal.
Very illegal.
Prototype suppressants weren't supposed to leave NAHC labs.
The criminal grinned.
"Bingo."
Everything happened at once.
Chris lunged.
Nick moved left.
Matt reached for the kid—
The kinetic manipulator slammed his hand downward.
The floor exploded.
The entire second level shuddered.
Wood splintered.
Metal screamed.
The teenager cried out.
Nick shoved him behind a support beam just as another blast tore through the hallway.
"Chris!"
"I'm GOOD!"
A lie.
Nick saw him hit the wall.
Hard.
Matt was already moving.
One criminal.
Two.
Three.
Fear rolled off him in tiny waves.
Controlled.
Measured.
Nothing like before.
One man stumbled backward.
Another froze.
Their breathing hitched.
Matt's eyes stayed focused.
Good.
He's keeping it contained.
Nick almost smiled.
Therapy was working.
Then—
The strongest criminal laughed.
"Oh."
He cracked his neck.
"So you're the dangerous one."
He charged.
Straight at Matt.
Nick's heart lurched.
"Matt!"
Matt reacted immediately.
Too immediately.
Fear surged.
The room changed.
Nick felt it before he saw it.
Cold.
The air became unbearably cold.
One criminal dropped to his knees.
Another started screaming.
The teenager curled into himself.
Chris stumbled.
"...Matt!"
Matt tried.
Nick could see him trying.
He grabbed at his own wrist.
Forced himself to breathe.
"No..."
The fear lessened.
Not enough.
Not fast enough.
The strongest criminal kept coming.
He didn't care about the fear.
His power probably dampened emotional effects.
Great.
Just great.
He reached Matt.
Matt barely got one arm up before—
Chris tackled the guy sideways.
They both crashed through an old office door.
Wood exploded everywhere.
Nick heard Chris grunt.
Then—
Silence.
"...Chris?"
No answer.
Nick moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
He rounded the corner—
—and everything inside him stopped.
Chris was on the ground.
Pinned.
The criminal's forearm pressed across his throat.
Chris was fighting.
Kicking.
Trying to breathe.
The man's other hand...
Held a knife.
Matt was halfway across the room.
Too far.
The fear around him was getting worse.
He couldn't use it without hitting Chris too.
Nick's brain calculated the distance automatically.
Six meters.
Chris had maybe—
Three seconds.
The criminal raised the knife.
Nick ran.
Too slow.
Too far.
No.
No.
No—
Chris looked up.
Their eyes met.
Nick knew that look.
Chris knew he wasn't going to make it.
Nick had exactly one option left.
The one he'd promised himself—
Promised Matt—
He'd never rely on.
His mouth opened before his brain caught up.
"...Stop."
One word.
Quiet.
Firm.
Absolute.
The world...
Stopped.
Literally.
The criminal froze.
Knife suspended inches above Chris's chest.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't move.
Nick didn't either.
For one endless second...
Everything was still.
Then the knife slipped from frozen fingers.
It clattered onto the floor.
Chris shoved the man off himself, gasping for air.
Matt finally reached them.
"...Chris!"
"I'm okay."
He wasn't.
But he was alive.
Matt grabbed both of Chris's shoulders.
Checking him over.
Talking too fast.
Nick couldn't hear any of it.
He was staring.
At the criminal.
Still standing perfectly still.
Eyes empty.
Waiting.
Waiting for another command.
Nick swallowed.
"...Move away."
The man obeyed instantly.
Like a puppet.
No hesitation.
No resistance.
No choice.
Nick's stomach twisted violently.
It had been...
Easy.
Far too easy.
And for the first time since he was eleven years old...
Nick understood why people were afraid of him.
*
For a long moment...
Nobody spoke.
The only sounds in the room were Chris's uneven breathing and the distant wail of police sirens growing closer.
Nick couldn't tear his eyes away.
The man was still standing exactly where he'd been ordered.
Hands at his sides.
Expression blank.
Like someone had reached inside his head and flipped a switch.
Nick knew the feeling.
He'd seen it before.
Just...
Never like this.
Never because he'd done it.
"...Nick?"
Matt's voice sounded strangely far away.
Nick blinked.
"What?"
Matt was looking at him.
Really looking at him.
Concern written plainly across his face.
"You okay?"
Nick looked down at his own hands.
His gloves suddenly felt too tight.
"...Yeah."
The lie came easily.
Too easily.
Chris finally pushed himself upright with a groan.
"I vote we never come here again."
Matt let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
"You say that after every warehouse."
"They're cursed."
"They're abandoned."
"Exactly."
Nick usually would've joined in.
Would've rolled his eyes.
Made some sarcastic comment.
Instead...
He kept staring at the criminal.
Still waiting.
Still obedient.
Waiting for permission to exist again.
Something inside Nick twisted.
"...Nick?"
Chris, this time.
Nick forced himself to look away.
"We should tie them up."
His voice sounded flat.
Even to himself.
By the time the police arrived...
The three vigilantes were gone.
As always.
No names.
No faces.
Just five unconscious criminals zip-tied together in the middle of a warehouse.
And one thoroughly confused kid clutching a backpack full of stolen suppressants.
They didn't speak much on the way home.
Chris blamed the adrenaline crash.
Matt seemed to accept that explanation.
Nick let them.
He walked a little behind them.
Hands shoved into his hoodie pocket.
Head down.
Every few minutes...
His fingers twitched.
As if remembering.
Stop.
One word.
That was all it'd taken.
One word...
...and another person's body had ceased belonging to them.
He'd stolen control as easily as breathing.
His stomach churned.
"...Nick?"
"Hm?"
"You missed the turn."
Nick looked up.
They'd walked straight past their street.
"Oh."
Chris frowned.
"Dude."
"Sorry."
"You've apologized three times tonight."
"...Have I?"
Matt and Chris exchanged another look.
Nick pretended not to notice.
Home was quiet.
Jimmy had already left for an overnight shift.
Mary Lou had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for them.
An old movie played softly on the television.
She stirred as the front door clicked shut.
"...Boys?"
"We're home," Chris whispered.
She smiled sleepily.
"Everything okay?"
Three voices answered at once.
"Yeah."
"Fine."
"Good."
Mary Lou studied them for a second.
Mothers knew things.
Nick had learned that years ago.
But eventually she smiled.
"Cookies are in the kitchen."
Chris gasped.
"I love this family."
Nick watched him disappear toward the kitchen at full speed.
Matt laughed.
"There he goes."
"There he goes," Nick echoed.
His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
Matt noticed.
Nick knew he noticed.
Neither of them said anything.
Later...
Much later...
The house had settled into silence.
Chris had finally stopped complaining about a bruise on his shoulder.
Matt had disappeared into his room after reminding Nick—twice—to get some sleep.
Nick had promised.
He lied.
Instead...
He found himself standing in the downstairs bathroom.
The light buzzed faintly overhead.
The mirror reflected someone who looked...
Wrong.
Nick stepped closer.
Raised one hand.
The same hand.
The one he'd pointed.
"...Stop."
The word came out barely above a whisper.
His reflection obeyed, of course.
He hadn't meant—
He shut his mouth immediately.
Heart pounding.
What the hell was he doing?
He gripped the edge of the sink until his knuckles went white.
"It was necessary."
He said it aloud.
Testing the words.
"They would've killed Chris."
Silence.
"You had no choice."
Silence again.
Then another voice answered.
Not really.
Just...
His own thoughts.
It was easy.
Nick squeezed his eyes shut.
"No."
You didn't hesitate.
"I had to."
You didn't even think.
"I did."
No.
His stomach lurched.
You saw a person.
And your first instinct was to take away their free will.
Nick jerked away from the mirror.
"No."
His breathing quickened.
"No."
He stumbled into the hallway.
The bathroom suddenly felt too small.
Too suffocating.
He needed—
Air.
Anything.
He made it halfway down the stairs before stopping.
The kitchen light was on.
"...Couldn't sleep?"
Matt.
Of course.
Nick looked over.
Matt sat cross-legged on one of the kitchen counters.
Oversized hoodie.
Mug of tea cradled between both hands.
His hair stuck up in six different directions.
"You either?" Nick asked.
Matt shrugged.
"Therapy days."
"...Right."
Silence settled comfortably between them.
It wasn't awkward.
It never was.
Growing up as triplets meant they'd long since mastered the art of existing together without speaking.
Matt took another sip of tea.
Then...
"You've been awake every night this week."
Nick looked at him.
"...You've noticed?"
Matt gave him a look that practically screamed Seriously?
"Nick."
Right.
Stupid question.
Of course Matt noticed.
Nick noticed when Chris sneezed differently.
Matt noticed when Nick blinked too slowly.
It was just...
How they were.
"I'm okay."
Matt hummed.
"I didn't ask if you were."
"..."
"I said you've been awake."
Nick looked away.
"...Couldn't sleep."
"I know."
"..."
"I can hear you walking around."
Nick let out a quiet sigh.
"You should tell me to walk quieter."
Matt smiled faintly.
"I'd rather know where you are."
That...
Hit harder than Nick expected.
He swallowed.
Neither of them spoke for another minute.
Finally...
Matt set his mug aside.
"...It wasn't your fault."
Nick froze.
He hadn't...
He hadn't said anything.
Matt rubbed the sleeve of his hoodie between his fingers.
"I know that look."
"...What look?"
"The one where you decide everything is your fault."
Nick laughed once.
Short.
Humorless.
"You've got me confused with yourself."
Matt's smile disappeared.
"...No."
His voice was soft.
"So do you."
Nick opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because the terrifying part...
Was that Matt wasn't wrong.
*
Matt let the silence stretch.
He'd learned something during therapy.
Silence wasn't always something that needed to be filled.
Sometimes...
People filled it themselves.
Nick stared at the kitchen floor.
The refrigerator hummed quietly behind them.
Finally—
"...I used my power."
Matt frowned.
"...Yeah."
"I mean..."
Nick swallowed.
"I used it."
Something in his voice made Matt's stomach tighten.
"Oh."
There it was.
Not guilt.
Not exactly.
Fear.
Matt knew that tone.
He'd heard it from himself hundreds of times.
Nick laughed quietly.
"I don't think I've ever understood people before tonight."
Matt stayed quiet.
"I always knew why they were scared."
Nick rubbed at one eye.
"I just..."
He shook his head.
"I never felt it."
Matt hopped down from the counter.
He didn't move closer.
Not yet.
"I keep seeing his face."
"The criminal's?"
Nick nodded.
"He wasn't even looking at me."
"..."
"He just..."
Nick's jaw clenched.
"He stopped existing."
Matt frowned.
"What?"
Nick looked up.
"There wasn't..."
He struggled for the words.
"There wasn't anyone there anymore."
Matt watched him carefully.
"He wasn't making a choice."
"..."
"He wasn't thinking."
Nick's breathing grew uneven.
"He wasn't... him."
The kitchen suddenly felt much smaller.
"I told him to stop."
Nick's voice cracked.
"And he just..."
He snapped his fingers.
"...did."
Matt finally crossed the room.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The same way Chris approached scared dogs.
"So..."
Matt leaned against the counter beside him.
"You saved Chris."
Nick laughed bitterly.
"Did I?"
Matt blinked.
"What?"
"I took someone's mind away."
"You stopped someone from stabbing our brother."
"I didn't even hesitate."
"You didn't have time to."
"I liked that I didn't have to think."
Matt stared at him.
Nick looked horrified by his own words.
"I mean—"
"I know what you meant."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
Nick shook his head.
"You can't."
Matt inhaled slowly.
"I can."
Nick scoffed.
"No."
"You know why?"
Nick didn't answer.
Matt looked straight at him.
"Because six months ago..."
His voice stayed impossibly calm.
"I told you I thought everyone would be safer if I locked myself away forever."
Nick's expression faltered.
"I remember."
"I know."
Matt smiled sadly.
"You remember exactly what you said to me?"
Nick didn't answer.
Matt did.
"'You're not dangerous because your power is.'"
Nick looked away.
"'You're dangerous if you choose to hurt people.'"
Silence.
"'Having a dangerous power doesn't make you a dangerous person.'"
Nick squeezed his eyes shut.
"Matt..."
"'Your choices matter more than your ability ever will.'"
Every sentence landed heavier than the last.
Nick remembered saying every single one.
Word for word.
Matt chuckled quietly.
"You gave really good speeches."
Nick let out a shaky laugh.
"...Apparently."
"So..."
Matt tilted his head.
"Why don't they apply to you?"
Nick's smile vanished.
"...It's different."
Matt sighed.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The same sentence."
Nick frowned.
"What sentence?"
"'It's different.'"
Matt looked toward the ceiling.
"I used to tell you that every day."
Nick remembered.
Of course he remembered.
Matt had always had a reason.
Yeah, but my power actually hurts people.
Yeah, but I actually deserve this.
Yeah, but it's different.
Nick used to hate hearing it.
Because...
It wasn't different.
It was just harder for Matt to believe himself.
"...You're doing it too."
Nick whispered it more than said it.
Matt nodded.
"I know."
Neither of them noticed Chris standing in the hallway.
He hadn't meant to eavesdrop.
Really.
He'd just wanted cereal.
Then he'd heard voices.
Then...
Nick.
Chris had never heard Nick sound like that before.
Small.
Nick wasn't...
Small.
Nick got angry.
Nick got sarcastic.
Nick got protective.
Nick did not...
Crack.
Chris stayed hidden around the corner.
Listening.
"I keep thinking..."
Nick whispered.
"What if next time..."
Matt waited.
"What if next time it's easier?"
The words barely made it out.
"What if eventually..."
Nick looked down at his own hands again.
"I stop caring."
Matt's heart broke.
Oh.
Oh, Nick.
"You know what Winona told me last week?"
Nick shook his head.
"She said..."
Matt smiled faintly.
"'Brains like ours love predicting futures that don't exist.'"
Nick snorted despite himself.
"That sounds like her."
"I asked how she knew it wouldn't happen."
"And?"
Matt shrugged.
"She asked if I could predict lottery numbers."
Nick blinked.
"...What?"
"I told you."
Matt laughed.
"She's weird."
Nick smiled despite himself.
"Okay..."
"So she said..."
Matt folded his arms.
"'If your brain can't accurately predict tomorrow's weather...'"
"..."
"'Why does it think it can accurately predict who you'll become in ten years?'"
Nick stared.
Matt shrugged again.
"It annoyed me."
"...Why?"
"Because she was right."
Chris quietly leaned against the wall.
He should've walked in.
Interrupted.
Made a joke.
Done...
Something.
Instead...
He stayed where he was.
Because he was realizing something.
Nick hadn't been quiet because he was tired.
Nick hadn't been distracted because of patrols.
Nick thought...
He'd become the villain.
Because of him.
Chris's chest tightened painfully.
"I would've died."
Nick flinched.
Matt hadn't meant to say it out loud.
But...
It was true.
Nick swallowed hard.
"I know."
"No."
Matt shook his head.
"I don't think you do."
Nick looked at him.
Matt's eyes were steady.
"If you hadn't used your power..."
"I know."
"I would've died."
"..."
"So..."
Matt stepped closer.
"I don't regret that you saved him."
Nick's eyes filled before he could stop them.
"I regret..."
His voice broke.
"...how easy it was."
Matt reached out.
Slowly.
Giving Nick every chance to pull away.
He didn't.
Matt rested a hand against Nick's shoulder.
"You know..."
His smile was impossibly gentle.
"I think that's exactly why you'll never become what you're scared of."
Nick frowned.
"...What?"
"Because villains don't lose sleep over hurting people."
Nick looked at him.
"They don't stand in bathrooms arguing with mirrors."
Nick's head snapped up.
"...How—"
"You've been talking to yourself."
Matt smiled sheepishly.
"Our walls are thin."
Nick groaned.
"Oh my God."
"I also heard you apologize to the mirror."
"..."
"...Twice."
Nick covered his face.
"I hate this family."
"You love us."
"...Unfortunately."
Matt grinned.
"There he is."
Nick laughed.
A real one this time.
It only lasted a second.
But...
It was enough.
From the hallway...
Chris smiled to himself.
Then quietly backed away.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he'd tell Nick what almost dying had felt like.
And more importantly...
What it had felt like...
To see his brother save him.
*
The house slept.
Or...
Mostly slept.
Nick eventually made it upstairs.
His bedroom door clicked shut behind him.
He didn't bother changing.
Just sat down on the edge of his bed.
The silence followed him.
Usually, he liked silence.
Tonight...
It was loud.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
His mask sat crumpled beside him.
There was a tiny tear along one seam.
Chris had snagged it on a fire escape last week.
Nick had been meaning to fix it.
Instead, he found himself staring at his own hands again.
"...Stop."
The word slipped out before he could catch it.
His fingers curled into fists.
"No."
He shoved both hands underneath his thighs.
As though hiding them would somehow stop the memory.
It didn't.
He still saw it.
The man's eyes.
Not scared.
Not angry.
Just...
Empty.
Waiting.
Waiting for Nick to decide what happened next.
That wasn't supposed to belong to anyone.
That kind of power.
No one should get to decide what another person did.
Not even him.
Especially not him.
A knock.
Soft.
Three taps.
Chris.
Nick knew before the door opened.
"...Can I come in?"
Nick almost laughed.
"You literally already did."
Chris looked down.
"...Right."
He'd opened the door halfway without realizing.
"Sorry."
Nick smiled faintly.
"It's your room too, technically."
That earned him a grin.
Chris wandered inside.
Didn't sit on the bed.
Didn't make a joke.
Instead...
He sat on the floor.
Cross-legged.
Looking up at Nick.
"...You're freaking me out."
Nick blinked.
"What?"
"You're smiling politely."
"..."
"You only do that when something's wrong."
Nick sighed.
"You guys need hobbies."
"We have hobbies."
"No."
"We're vigilantes."
"That's not a hobby."
"It's unpaid."
"..."
"So it's basically volunteering."
Nick laughed.
A little.
Chris smiled.
Good.
One smile.
Progress.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Chris picked at a loose thread in the carpet.
Nick watched the moonlight spill across the floor.
Finally—
"...Did it hurt?"
Nick frowned.
"What?"
"When he threw me."
Nick's stomach dropped.
"...Chris."
"I'm asking."
Nick swallowed.
"...Yeah."
Chris nodded.
"Kinda figured."
Another silence.
Then—
"You know what I remember?"
Nick looked over.
Chris shrugged.
"I remember thinking..."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"'Well... this kinda sucks.'"
Nick snorted despite himself.
Chris smiled.
"And then..."
His expression softened.
"I saw you."
Nick looked away.
"You looked terrified."
Chris's voice had become quieter.
"I've never seen you look like that."
Nick laughed once.
"I was."
"I know."
"..."
"I've been thinking about that."
Nick frowned.
"What?"
"The warehouse."
Chris rested his chin on his knees.
"You know what's weird?"
Nick shook his head.
"I don't remember his face."
Nick blinked.
"...What?"
"The guy."
Chris shrugged.
"I don't remember him."
"..."
"I remember yours."
Nick's chest tightened.
Chris smiled sadly.
"When I woke up this morning..."
He looked toward the window.
"I wasn't thinking..."
"'Wow, Nick controlled somebody.'"
Nick stared.
"I was thinking..."
Chris laughed quietly.
"'Damn."
"'My brother actually caught me.'"
Nick felt something crack.
Deep inside.
"I wasn't fast enough."
The words escaped before he could stop them.
Chris immediately frowned.
"...Excuse me?"
"I wasn't."
Nick looked down.
"If I'd gotten there sooner—"
"Nick."
"I would've never needed to—"
"Nick."
"I froze."
"You ran."
"I hesitated."
"You had three seconds."
"I should've—"
Chris stood up so suddenly that Nick stopped talking.
"...No."
His voice wasn't loud.
Just firm.
"No."
Nick blinked.
"You don't get to do that."
"What?"
"You don't get to rewrite what happened."
Chris folded his arms.
"I was there."
Nick looked away.
"I know."
"No."
Chris stepped closer.
"I don't think you do."
"You know what I saw?"
Nick stayed quiet.
"I saw five armed criminals."
"..."
"I saw Matt trying to keep his power under control."
"..."
"I saw one guy holding a knife over my chest."
Chris swallowed.
"And then..."
His smile was impossibly small.
"I saw my big brother."
Nick felt tears prick his eyes.
"I didn't see mind control."
Chris shook his head.
"I saw..."
He laughed softly.
"...Nick."
"I would've done the same."
Nick whispered.
"I know."
"So why—"
"Because."
Chris interrupted.
"I know you."
Nick looked up.
Chris smiled.
"You hated using your power when we were kids."
Nick remembered.
Too well.
Age eleven.
Matt couldn't breathe.
Tiny hands clutching his own shirt.
Crying so hard he couldn't speak.
Nick had screamed—
"Calm down!"
And Matt had.
Instantly.
Too instantly.
Afterward...
Matt had sobbed even harder.
Not because of the panic attack.
Because...
"It didn't feel like me."
Nick had cried that night too.
Locked himself in the bathroom.
Promised himself...
Never again.
Chris sat beside him now.
Shoulder brushing his.
"I know what using your power costs you."
Nick closed his eyes.
"So..."
Chris bumped his shoulder gently.
"I'm not thanking your power."
Nick frowned.
"...What?"
"I'm thanking you."
Nick's breathing hitched.
"They're different."
Chris smiled.
"You've spent years making sure Matt understood that."
"..."
"Guess it's our turn."
The bedroom door creaked open.
Neither of them looked.
"...You two suck at keeping secrets."
Matt.
Of course.
Chris laughed.
"Were you eavesdropping?"
"I live across the hall."
Matt walked in carrying three mugs.
Steam curled into the air.
"I also heard Chris say 'this kinda sucks.'"
Chris groaned.
"I was being vulnerable."
"You were being dramatic."
"I almost died."
"You've almost died like..."
Matt pretended to count.
"...Seven times?"
"Eight."
Nick automatically answered.
Both brothers turned to him.
"...You keep count?"
Nick blinked.
"...No."
Matt raised an eyebrow.
"You answered really fast."
Nick sighed.
"...Maybe."
Chris looked scandalized.
"You've been counting how many times I almost died?"
"I count everything."
"That's so weird."
"It's useful."
"It's adorable."
"It's not adorable."
Matt grinned.
"It's a little adorable."
Nick groaned into his hands.
"I hate both of you."
Chris handed him one of the mugs.
"You love us."
"...Unfortunately."
Matt clinked his mug against Nick's.
"So..."
He smiled.
"Guess we're making it everyone's problem now."
Nick frowned.
"...What?"
"No more spiraling alone."
Chris nodded immediately.
"Absolutely not."
"If one of us is having a crisis..."
Matt lifted his mug.
"...Congratulations."
"You've unlocked group therapy."
Nick stared at them.
Then...
Despite everything.
Despite the warehouse.
Despite the guilt.
Despite the fear still sitting like lead in his chest...
He laughed.
A real one.
Because...
God.
His brothers were ridiculous.
And maybe—
Just maybe—
He didn't have to carry this one by himself.