The Vigilantes

Baby Brother

TW: Thoughts of suicide

Sleep refused to fall upon Virgil. Hid mind was chaotic and scared. The whispers hadn't quite left, but they were fainter now. Growing quiet over time.

He laid on his bed and looked at his ceiling. He could make it seem as if stars were floating around his room. But he was scared. Scared of the powers he had. Scared of what they could do. Scared of whom they could hurt. Just scared.

There was a silence in the apartment Virgil only heard on Friday nights. The type of silence where Roman and Patton would whisper and curl up in each other's arms. Where they would hang onto each other's sleepy words until one would fall asleep. It was the type of silence where he and Logan would watch documentary after documentary. Or Logan would read Sherlock Holmes aloud while Virgil laid his head on Logan's shoulder.

But tonight he was on his own. Logan was nowhere to be found and Patton and Roman had already left to Patton's room.

He stretched his arms above his head and stood. He keeled down to search for his black chucks, instead see a folded piece of paper.

I hope you feel better Virgil. I didn't know you had anxiety, I suspected, but was a bit nervous to ask. I assume you kept this information to yourself to not worry us, but I wish I had asked sooner. I didn't know when we finally discussed our secrets that it would overwhelm you. I wish I had. It seems lately I've been wishing for quite a few things. I hope they come true.

Your friend,

Logan.

He didn't know when Logan wrote this, but it didn't matter to him. No, what mattered was the way he ended it. 'Your friend' not 'Your crush' or 'Your admirer'. They were friends. And since it was clearly what Logan wanted, then he wanted it too. He wanted to just be friends and nothing else because neither of them want anything more, right? He knew he liked Logan. He just... wished it wasn't so obvious.

They both seemed to wish for a lot.

He folded the paper back up, letting his hand hoover above the trash before setting it on the dresser. He couldn't get rid of it. Not yet.

He knelled back down to search for his chucks. Finding them, he slipped them on and pulled his black jacket over his pajamas shirt. He wouldn't be outside long. He just wanted to clear his head.

He opened his door, which creaked with the sound of his presence, and walked towards their front door.  He could hear Patton giggling while Roman says something cheesy. He was surprised at how well Roman had taken it. Only calling Virgil a liar twice.

He closed the door and walked to the stairs that led to the roof. Each step seemed to groan with its lack of use. Virgil didn't mind. He pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. Feeling the ice cold air bite at his skin.

His purple eyes closed with relief, feeling the need to pull of his thin jacket and freeze. He didn't even notice the man with the cigarette, keen eyes watching his every step.

Virgil walked to the edge of the building, sitting down. He could jump. End it all, but for some reason it just seemed less appealing than it usual did. He didn't want to cause Patton grief and Remy and Emile sorrow. Strange as it was, it was easier to just be alive.

There weren't many stars that night. Light pollution wasn't helping him see any. He sighed heavily, tearing his sad eyes from the night sky. His hands grew a faint purple. He could use his power for one thing he had been meaning to do. If he could just focus.

He closed his eyes and hummed a song he knew his mother had sang for his brother. Never for him.

Slowly an older version of his brother appeared. "Hey, Thomas," Virgil whispered.

"Hey, Virgil! Long time no see!"

He knew he was forcing these words out of Thomas' mouth, but it felt so right to just talk to his little brother. "I miss you. So much." Virgil hands balled in his lap, his brittle fingers turning blue.

"I miss you too," Thomas said with sad brown eyes. That's what Virgil envied most. Thomas' eyes. They were normal. He wished he was somewhere near normal on the spectrum.

"I wish you were real." Another wish, another lie.

"Me too."

The tears ran non-stop. It was hard to even look at Thomas. Virgil raised his hand and waved for Thomas to disappear. He wished he hadn't made him into fruition. He wished he had known his little brother more. He wished for so much knowing it would never happen.

"Virgil?" He heard a soft voice behind him that was followed by soft coughing.

"Who is it?" Virgil mumbled. He stared at the street below him and the ever-going cars. Falling seemed so much more appealing now.

"Logan. Are you all right, Virgil?" Logan asked, flicking his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out with toe of his shoe.

"'M fine. Didn't know you smoked." Virgil stared at the flickering lights. Strange as it was, he was glad Logan was up here with him.

"It's more of a stress reliever than anything, but that's not the point, is it? Was that your younger brother? Thomas?" Logan asked, sitting next to Virgil.

"Don't say his name." It was so harsh, yet weak. Virgil missed him. "I hadn't seen him since he was a baby. He'd be in his freshman year in college."

"Virgil, I met young man today named Thomas," Logan began.

"Don't give me hope."

"Anyways," Logan continued. "He asked for my help. He has this... power that he does not want. Resembling you in a way. His name is Thomas Sanders."

Virgil's eyes filled with tears. He raked a hand through his hair, laying his head on Logan's shoulder.

"I'm aware you both share different last names."

"I changed mine when I met Remy and Emile," Virgil breathed in slowly. "That's him, that's my baby brother."

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Oof that's a lot to handle. I know, but I was rushing to get a chapter out to you because pre-camp starts tomorrow and I'm trying to finish this before school starts, so wish me luck!