We Can be Heroes {Sanders Sides Superhero AU}

Epilogue

Don't be surprised if the epilogue for this book is the prologue for the sequel. I'm tired, cranky, and anxious as I'm writing this. Also, I tried to think of a good epilogue and prologue for hours and this is all that came to mind. I'm also not a very creative writer and a bunch of other things but anyway... ONTO THE END

Also, I'm being nice and giving you the last chapter and the epilogue all together (Not really being nice, just Lazy, didn't want to publish again on Monday. Just wanted to get it over with)

Several Months Later 

"Is this him?" The women asked as they slid a few photos in front of him.

There were so many of them.

The first photo, the oldest looking one it seemed was the one he had brought in. Of course, he recognized that boy. That's the boy that he remembered. That's the Virgil that he remembered.

He had been such a cute kid. 

Virgil was only two years younger then him but those two years were enough that he had a pretty good memory of him from back then, maybe better then the one that Virgil might have of him.

Back than Virgil had been so happy. He had been super energetic and hyper. He was funny and innocent. He had a very clear memory of Virgil not always understanding the 'dirty' things the rest of the kids may have mentioned or heard about. 

This Virgil, the one in the photo he was looking at, was the kid who liked to draw and play on the swings and who was strangely good at hide-and-seek. Like seriously how on earth did he ever get on top of the fridge? He was a tiny little fourth grader, how was it possible?

He looked over at the next photo of Virgil. Similar in age to the first one. This was taken after the accident. When Virgil stopped living with them when his father had finally finished all the paperwork to make Virgil a ward of the state. When his parents, and every other capable adult in the family, refused to take custody of him and he went into foster care.

 His eyes were blood-shot and red as he sat in front of a tacky backdrop you might see when taking school photos. He was holding a teddy-bear in his hand but you could tell it didn't belong to him. It was in too terrible of condition for it to belong to him. It was probably only there as a weak attempt to get him to smile.

Which he didn't really completely understand. It hadn't even been a full month after Virgil's parents and baby sister died. How had all those adults just expect him to pull on a smile and move on with his life? 

Sure, Virgil had been innocent back then but he hadn't been stupid.

Deffinitley hadn't been heartless.

Most kids- most people- aren't just going to be able to move on so soon after something like that happens to them.

In the third photo he was older. Maybe fourteen? It looked like he was just entering highschool. Two other kids were next to him. One of them looked familiar but he couldn't tell from where. 

He could tell that this third Virgil was already nothing like the one he remembered. Yes, he was smiling, and sure it did resemble the one that he had brought in but it was different. It was a smirk. 

The Virgil he remembered didn't smirk.

The fourth photo was once again jumping a couple years forward. 

Senior year of highschool maybe. 

Another tacky backdrop hung behind him.

This was definitely not the Virgil he remembered.

He was wearing a checkered black jacket, with a grey shirt underneath. You couldn't see it but in the photo he had also worn ripped up black jeans and black boots. His face was covered in make-up. 

Virgil had gone emo.

Huh, who knew that the nine year old boy who liked watching cartoons and wore shirts covered with dinosaurs and ninja's and tacky saying would turn into this?

Then the last photo came. 

Or at least the last one he had been given time to look at.

Again, you could tell a few years had passed.

He was still emo, but it was better in a way. More practiced.

In this photo Virgil was wearing a patched up purple and black hoodie. You could see the top of his jeans, once again they were darkly colored. Virgil's make-up was done better too. At least it was in his opinion. Then again he didn't really wear make-up to much. Virgil's hair had been dyed purple, but it looked faded.

He wasn't looking at the camera this time.

He was talking to another man wearing a bright red shirt and white jeans. 

They were both smiling at each other. 

The man next to Virgil had his arms wrapped around his waist.

It really was a cute scene, he had to admit.

"So, is it the same person?" the women asked him. Though from the sound of her voice she already knew it was.

He nodded, "Yup. Thats little Virgil. Gosh he's gotten so big now"

"Do you think this could be him?" a man asked him this time, placing a new photo in front of him.

The infamous Shadow Master. 

He had been grabbed by one of the three heroes who he used to fight against. 

Key words, 'used to'.

He didn't understand why it was such a big deal to bring him in if Shadow Master wasn't an issue anymore, but he also didn't argue. 

This was his job.

In the photo, which looked like it had been taken from a traffic camera, Shadow Master had pulled his hood down, his mask was in the hands of one of the other heroes. Tufts of purple hair stuck out though. If you looked close enough you would see that he had drawn something on his skin. You could barely make it out but in very fancy and pretty letters you could just see the intials VG.

"Well? Could it be him?" They asked

He said nothing for a moment as he looked the picture over again.

"Picani, is it him?"

He sighed. 

He wanted to say no. 

But it was all coming together.

Like that episode of Gravity Falls where Ford shows up and he and Stan pretty much explain the entire series.

Emile Picani looked up at the two people in front of him, "Probably," he said hesitantly as he nodded his head.

The agents nodded.

"Than it's decided," the man began, "We're bringing in Virgil Griffin. Otherwise known as Shadow Master"

Word Count: 1124