forum childhood friends to enemies to lovers with powers sprinkled in//oxo//closed

Started November 02, 2020 by @MusicElle-is-here

tune

Is that all there is to it? Allergies? His step-dad always dusts the place because he is a wreck with allergies. Nova City is experiencing dry weather. Atticus bit his bottom lip while observing Silas from his seat. Something in his heart didn't sit right with him. A string was being tugged and pulled every second. Not knowing anything is as dangerous as knowing everything. Finding an opportunity to find out the risk is rare. Atticus wasn't able to have that chance since wasn't in his own hands. He did waltz into Silas's life, he might be overstepping his boundaries, and yet, Atticus does not want his friend to disappear for four years again.

"When my mom would let me leave the house on my own again, I'd go to the police department every other day. I would spend hours sitting in those waiting sofas waiting to meet with…your father. 'Mister Chen, where is he?' 'Is he okay?' 'Why can't I reach his phone?' Three weeks, he has given me some sort of lie that I knew wasn't true till somehow I was convinced you were in Havenbrook cause you were desperate for a break."

"Believe me, I hate it when people say I am my father's son or that I act just like him. In some ways, you and Mister Chen are exact copies, just reversed. You both point your feet to the left and also try to force an exerting amount of sincerity sincerity into your words.", he delineated as he grabbed Silas's hand gently holding it, "You don't have to tell me everything, just don't put a black cloak over your heart. Come to me, let me pick up a part of your burdens. We must be here seeing each other again for a reason after all."

Silas’s jaw dropped at the words, though he closed his mouth at the end of Atticus’s little speech. Silas didn’t move other than that, frozen in place. He studied Atticus for several seconds, not moving his hand from the other boy’s grip. “I…you really cared that much?” he asked, for a moment dropping his walls that he’d tried so hard to keep up. His face became softer, more vulnerable as he gazed into Atticus’s eyes, heart skipping a beat.

“I am not my father,” he added at last, tearing his gaze away from Atticus. He bit his lip, glaring at the ground. “And I wouldn’t let myself become him. I don’t want to talk about what happened. I’m here now, aren’t I? Isn’t that enough for you? Everyone keeps wanting something from me; something I can’t give them. You, my dad, Ev—my ex.”

Though Silas clearly had his guard back up, he didn’t let go of Atticus’s hand. He didn’t want to, even though he knew he should. “I appreciate that you care so much, but you don’t want my burdens.” He shook his head softly. “God, I sound like an emo middle schooler, but I mean it. You’re too good to bear any of the shit that I’ve brought upon myself. I shouldn’t even be here right here. I don’t deserve this.” He slipped his hand out of Atticus’s, taking a step back. “You’re too good to hang out with someone like me. I’ve been telling myself I’ll just hang out once or twice but I don’t think I can bring my troubles to you.”

All Atticus could do at that moment was nod while gazing back. Of course he does care, why wouldn't he? Reassuringly, he gave a grin. The expression in Silas's face was similar to when the thought of Charlie came up and the one back at the café. It was more on the line compared to other times.

"Finding you at that store was enough for me. I thought you faded into the shadows or something. Seriously!", he exclaimed, "You don't have to talk about anything to me, I was only worried about you. I'm sorry."

He got up turning around while setting his hands on his hips. Goddammit. Perhaps he should've said something else instead of being blunt. Letting every single word out wouldn't do much anyways. Is he insane? Pushing way too far? Atticus rubbed his temples exhaling deeply. Whatever it is, he just doesn't want to see his friend disappear again. Seeing him made Atticus feel so joyful again, having him over was even beyond what he would've thought. The least he can do is listen or offer his time to repay as gratitude. Anything, just anything.

"Just let me be someone you can depend on; only if you'd like.", he sighed, "I'm not sure how I'd be too good for you when I already let you go once. You've done much more for me than I did for you."

"You tried to find me though; I'd call that good, and you're still trying to be a good person," Silas blurted out, realizing he might have said too much. "Maybe you can't see it, but you're just so…good. So happy, so full of life, and you bring that goodness to everyone who comes in contact with you. I've brought nothing but pain and disappointment to people since…since Charlie died. He was the last thing tethering me to my family, and then I had to get away. I should leave. I need to leave. I can't drag you into this any more than I already have. I'm sorry."

With that, Silas looked around the room for anything he'd forgotten, making sure he had everything with him. A torrent of thoughts ran through his head, each worse than the last. He managed to hold himself together enough not to explode, or start crying again, but he could feel the raging storm inside of him demanding release. The piercing, burning anger; the deep, cold, well of sadness and grief; and, of course, the dark, bitter hatred–for heroes, for villains, for his family, and for himself most of all. He didn't want to bring his storm of issues into Atticus's life. Silas should have just said no to coffee. He shouldn't get attached to someone he could never have any kind of future with. He was stupid to think he could.

Deep down, Silas knew that Atticus was only trying to help, but Silas was too far now. He couldn't be helped. He only knew how to hurt. And hurt he did, hurt others and himself daily. But he couldn't stop, because being Phantom gave him a sense of control and peace he couldn't get anywhere else. He pursed his lips, making up his mind. He was halfway to the door already.

Being good does not have to do with anything. Well, from Atticus's perspective. Regardless, it doesn't matter what deeds someone has done, they still deserve opportunities and second chances. He does not think that Silas has done anything terrible though. Sure, he isn't as bright as Atticus is, but so what? No everyone is vibrant, and that is perfectly fine with him. No way has Silas brought pain or an unbearable amount of disappointment to anyone; it could be on his family's part, not his.

Atticus paused, the gap between his lips closed. Anything he'd say will end up either being a rehash of what he already said or it would dig the knife in deeper. Facing Silas again, he leaned against the counter having his hands hold the side. His mind is a blank slate not being able to conjure up a single sentence let alone a phrase that might help turn this conversation elsewhere. He doesn't want Silas to fade out of his life again, he cannot stand by waiting for hours upon hours only to come to a dead end. If it happens, there is no one to turn to this time. It's too much for him. Being dragged into hell would be worth having his friend again. Getting to hang out with him, talk to him over the phone, and be a shoulder to lean on; he'd be fine with facing hell, it's worth it.

Swiftly, he shimmied over blocking the door. Atticus stood still for just a few seconds then pulled Silas into an embrace. His arms wrapped around loosely enough so that it wouldn't hurt, yet secure enough for it to be perfect. Biting the inside of his cheek, he could feel his heart pace faster in contrast to the slow breathing. All he wished was that Silas felt safer, more at tranquility.

Silas stiffened in the embrace at first, uncomfortable, before sighing and wrapping his arms around Atticus as well. He was starting to realize that Atticus wouldn’t give up on his friend, even if Silas ended up dragging him down with him. Silas supposed he could try to keep his personal life and his villain life separate. Or you could try to become a better person, added a small voice in his head. No, it was too late for that. There was no redeeming himself, and if Atticus ever found out about that part of his life, he’d hate Silas forever.

Silas made up his mind: despite it being a losing game, he supposed he could try to keep Atticus in his life. He knew it was only a matter of time before Atticus found out about Phantom somehow, but for now maybe he could try to pretend everything was normal. He knew he was an awful person for not telling Atticus the truth, but he had known he was an awful person for a long time. Maybe being around Atticus would rub off on him, he tried to convince himself weakly. Yeah. He let himself believe the lie, and it was so easy, wrapped in an embrace. His mind was made up—he’d let Atticus back into his life.

Despite having his eyes closed, he could sense Silas's arms wrapping around him. Atticus grinned making his arms squeeze just a bit tighter. Ah, he felt so fuzzy on the inside; more importantly, he felt relieved. Even though no one spoke, there wasn't a need for words. Atticus can only guess what Silas would say. Whatever it is, he's just very thankful right now that he's still here. The odd feeling of warmth and happiness still lingered inside. After a couple more seconds, he let go of the hug. "Thank you.", he smiled after taking a step back.

Atticus stood against the door having his hand against it so he wouldn't make any loud bump sounds. Momentarily, he kept his gaze from crossing with Silas's. He only glimpsed with his peripherals. "Are you still going?", he asked in a whispery tone, "I'll see you out, please give me a second."

He shuffled his way over to his room grabbing a coat and a scarf. Throwing the navy coat over him, Atticus zipped it up as he headed over. The scarf wasn't too long, it was just a simple red one that he would use after going to swim practices in the cold; he hoped it didn't smell like chlorine anymore. Weather in Nova City isn't very chilly, but it's starting to get there; at least in the evening. Atticus put the scarf on Silas only wrapping it around neatly so it wouldn't be a bother.

Silas flushed slightly as Atticus put the scarf on him, trying to decide whether he should just stay now. But Atticus was already putting the scarf on him, so Silas should probably leave now. He smiled weakly at his longtime friend, but this time despite the frailty of the gesture, there was truly something behind it. He nodded, looking away from Atticus for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m still going,” he decided, glancing at the door. “Seriously though, thank you for everything.” He gazed back into Atticus’s eyes, his own expression deadly serious. He had been known to have an intense stare in middle school, and he still did. After a few moments of eye contact, Silas dragged his gaze away towards the door. He remembered the older kids teasing him for his serious looks, but when he got older he used the intimidation they gave him. Distantly, Silas wondered if his gaze intimidated Atticus too. Maybe not, since Atticus had a good couple of inches and several pounds on the smaller boy. But still.

Now he knows why he might've called Silas the cute one. Strange enough, some people found his best friend appearing to be callous, but Atticus cannot understand why. Everyone has their own look, Silas just happens to have a more darker one; it's fine, in fact in some ways it's charming. He is standing right in front of him with bright red cheeks. His eyes are shining along with the small frail smile. Not to mention, the scarf looks really good on him. Too adorable.

Atticus just beamed being happy to help. "Don't mention it, the pleasure is all mine. Plus, it's great spending time with you again.", he paused then suddenly added, "I missed you." For a while, he just stood there biting on his bottom lip as it tired to curl back. He wasn't sure what he thought letting those last words out. They were true for sure, it's only he didn't know if it would make things weird after that discussion. Hopefully not.

He opened the door stepping out, he held it wide enough to let Silas get through. The temperature felt different being between the apartment and outside into the hallway. Briefly, his eyes took a glance over at the big window. The sun was over in the west already. Atticus wondered how the walk was over to his place. "Will you be alright on your way back?"

Silas nodded, having looked up again at the "I miss you" line. "I'll be alright," he said, brushing it off. Maybe having Atticus back in his life would be a good thing. Silas remembered easily why he had gotten so attached to the other boy in the first place. He missed those middle school days. Silas knew that he'd had the biggest crush on Atticus back then, at least for a while. Hopefully the other boy had never found out, because it was one of Silas's best kept secrets.

"It was nice seeing you, really," Silas added, smiling a bit. "I'll miss you too." And with that, he turned and walked away, giving Atticus a friendly wave before he disappeared around the corner. Now maybe he could go back to what was his current home and think about happy things for the first time in a long time. It was stupid, but even seeing Atticus's face reminded Silas that there were good things in this world. Atticus deserved a much better friend than Silas, but for some reason he wanted to be friends with Silas. It didn't add up. But Atticus had always looked for the best in people, not to mention he didn't know the true extent of Silas's awfulness.

Silas walked with more of a spring in his step than he had in weeks, months even. The last time he'd really felt happy–not just accomplished or satisfied, but happy–had been when he'd first met Evan. He'd been a depressed seventeen-year-old then, jaded by the death and sorrow he'd witnessed, but still having hope. Those first few moments of happiness led Silas to believe it could work out, but days with Evan only continued to get darker and darker–making Silas hate the world and himself more than ever. But Atticus wasn't Evan. If anything, Atticus was Evan's opposite. Atticus was the closest person to perfect that Silas had ever known, though maybe that was because of his feelings for him in middle school. Even so, Silas knew that Atticus lived up to the reputation that Silas had built for his friend in his head, or at least he had tonight.

He stared off into the distance past Silas. Time flew by as he waited to see his best friend once again. Yet now it's going by even faster. Deep down, he wishes that they have many more moments like this in the future; not how it was in the past, but even better. His heart was running around in circles in an attempt to decipher how he felt. Nostalgic? No, optimism for sure. Fate had made them cross paths again; there must be a good reason as to why.

Out of nowhere, his attention came back to him. Seeing that Silas waved, he giggled. "Get home safely!", Atticus waved energetically. As he smiled, he couldn't help but watch. Putting all his weight onto one foot, he tilt his head back as memories from middle and elementary school began to reappear. The fondness in Silas's eyes, and how it made him smile, was always a sight to see. It was as if a Renaissance sculpture took the stars forming them into that eye-catching expression.

When Silas went around the corner, he walked back inside. Shutting the door, he leaned against it. That was amazing. Way better than just a day full of nothing. Atticus sighed, gosh, he feels so lucky right now. After a night full of terrible experiences, the day brought in something (someone) better. He took off his shoes and coat laying them next to the door. Heading over to his room, he opened the window gazing out of it. The drawing from before, all his binders, phone; all of it laid around about. Atticus's mind was pulled away from the stresses and duties that have hung over him for the last year or so. All he can do is look out into the city as his hand rested under his chin.

When he got back his makeshift home, Silas collapsed onto the couch. He'd had more fun tonight than he had in a long time. Maybe if he hadn't run away then things could always have been like this. He shook the thought out of his head. If he hadn't run away, then he could see Atticus, sure, but his home life would only have gotten worse and worse until he snapped. Either way, Silas surmised that he would have ended up in this place–in this state of mind.

He sighed, staring at the wall. At least he'd gotten to see Atticus. That alone helped ease some of Silas's constant pain. Atticus was amazing for still wanting to be there for Silas, and Silas was grateful for Atticus's sudden presence in his life. Maybe things would work out after all.

Silas told himself happy little lies like that until he began to drift off into sleep. His vision went from blurry to black as he tumbled into dreamland. Silas liked being asleep much better than being awake, because he still dreamed about Charlie often, that was, when he dreamed. Maybe being with Atticus had helped his insomnia, but whatever the case, in his dreams Charlie could be alive. Alive and happy, just like he had been before Silas's life went to hell.

Eventually Addy had to go home. Atticus took her over not long after. He decided to not bring you the drawing from previously; the kid was very sleepy and her mother was waiting at the door. Nevertheless, the curiosity as to why she'd drawn it or how she knows is still floating in the back of his mind. No one has said anything about Phantom yet, the news or the organization dealing with heroes and cracking down on villains. The thought of that thing getting near anyone like Addy or his parents or Silas makes him frustrated with worry.

Thinking about Phantom was being in a different world compared to thinking about Silas. All his thoughts about Phantom just wanted to drive him to find a punching bag. His jaw clenches, his body becomes very tensed and strained. On the other hand, Atticus has begun to feel light as he went back to replaying the memories with Silas. The string attached to his heart wasn't wrapping around strangling it. Everything in him was like a feather, soft and light. He knows that things will turn out for the better. Things will be good.

Nothing dangerous shouldn't happen tonight, nothing. Atticus dragged his feet behind him as he trudged back to his room. What a day. Both his step-dad and mom weren't home still. The night had just settled in, there was time to look for clues on who the next victim could potentially be. Sitting in his desk chair, he yawned while clicking through all the tabs he had opened. Skimming through each one then going to the next. All the information flew right above his head.

Spending time with Silas really pulled him into a different reality, Atticus can admit that for sure. A more blissful one compared to this dark, gloomy, anxious one. Even with all the vibrancy that he holds, time and time again does it get crushed.

As the time flew by, he started to feel his eyelids getting heavy. He didn't have enough energy to pull himself out of the chair onto his bed. Fighting the urge to fall asleep was not a success as Atticus passed out on his desk.

The next morning Silas awoke feeling slightly less awful than the previous day. It could just be that he actually slept for more than two or three hours, but deep down he knew it was because of Atticus. Just thinking about that boy again sent off a strange feeling in Silas's chest. It almost sent him back to middle school, those happy days with his friendships and his hopefulness still intact. He turned on the news, yawning, to see that during the night, Sharktooth had been up some trouble. No one had died, but a multiple people had wounds from his attack on some business that he apparently had a grudge against.

Silas sighed. Who didn't Evan have a grudge against? Silas wouldn't be surprised if the next time he went to kill a hero, Evan showed up just to fight him or something. He glared at the screen. Part of Silas wished that Evan would just get caught already, by some poser hero wannabe even, just so Silas could have some peace of mind. Of course, Evan knew Silas's identity and would no doubt reveal him if asked about it out of spite. So it was probably best for Silas that Evan had escaped the heroes' clutches yet again. Normally, he was known for attacking either groups of people or buildings, sometimes for stealing things, but never targeting one person at a time. Evan hated things just as much as Silas did, but had a more wild disposition that led him to do stupid things just to feel something.

He sighed, getting ready for the day. Almost as soon as he was dressed, he got a phone call. Excited, Silas went to answer it, thinking it might be Atticus. To his annoyance, it was not. The person calling was Evan. Silas glared, wondering how that bastard had even gotten his number. He was going to need another burner phone. Silas let the phone go to voicemail, wondering how he would explain his getting a new number right now to Atticus. He supposed he could tell part of the truth but not the whole truth–he'd more or less been doing that until now.

Hearing a buzz sound, Atticus relentlessly opened his eyes. For a few seconds, he turned his head getting a glimpse around. The sleepiness feeling was heavy as were everything else in his body. No dreams came about in his slumber, just pitch black; though he can remember an impaling feeling in his abdomen. Most likely it was because of the decision to sleep on his desk. Slowly, he blinked trying to process everything before glancing down at the floor.

His phone laid on the floor face up, that's where the buzzing sound came from. It must've fell down if his arm pushed it over the desk. The screen lit up showing boxes reading notifications from different apps and such. After picking the device up, he went through them all. None of them were from Silas. Atticus face-palmed realizing he forgot to do something. "Sorry I didn't text you last night.", he sent, "Did you get home safe?"

Right as the text was sent, another notification popped up. "2 New Entries", it read having the Superhero and Villain Investigation Division logo next to it. Probably was some sort of new heroes or whatever. A yawn escaped from his mouth. If he wasn't so tired and sore, maybe he'd check it. Later. Swiping it away, he stared at the text message he sent before throwing his phone onto his bed.

Atticus managed to pull himself from the chair only to collapsed onto his bed. He struggled trying to pull the blankets over him so that the sunlight wouldn't get in his eyes. If only there was someone to cuddle… Waking up usually would lead him to get on with the day. Either with working out, getting ahead on studies, or doing at-home superhero research. Something about this Sunday felt different from the others. All he wanted to do was relax, sleep, watch shows, and talk to Silas. Briefly, he wondered if that text was too much. They did just see each other the day before. Oh well, hopefully everything is okay.

Silas nearly jumped a foot into the air when his phone buzzed, turning around to pick it back up from where he'd dropped it on the couch in annoyance. "What is it now?" he grumbled under his breath, picking it up only to see a text from Atticus. Instantly, his mood turned around. He'd been hoping Atticus would text him.

"It's no problem." was Silas's response, followed by: "I got home safe, thanks for asking. Sorry this is sudden, but I might have to get a new number soon." He sent it, hoping Atticus wouldn't question the second part, but knowing somehow that he would. Why wouldn't he? Silas knew he would be confused, maybe even suspicious, if the roles were reversed. Silas would just do what he did best–tell half-truths so Atticus would think everything was fine. Or not, Silas supposed. Just not that Silas had been dating one of the most notorious villains out there, besides himself, of course.

He tried not to think about that. Just thinking about Phantom and Atticus in the same sentence made Silas's head hurt. In a few days, he'd be targeting the next person, and the last thing he needed was to be weak right at the crucial moment. Of course, if a hero took him out during a fight, it was just them showing that they did, indeed, deserve to be a hero. It was just the thought of going to jail or some inane "villain rehabilitation" place that made him shake with anxiety. Then not only would everyone know his shame, but things would get worse–he had to think of something else.

So instead of letting his mind wander to dark places (where else was there at this point?), he thought about Atticus, staring at the screen as he waited for a text back. He knew was being obsessive, but it was just for now, and Atticus never had to know. It was fine. Probably.

It only took him a few minutes to fall back asleep again. Dreams faintly appeared in and out. While he could make some sense of what showed, he couldn't focus on one single thing. Everything was blurry. The only dream he can distinctively remember is a fight with Phantom. Frowning in his lingering sleep, he wished his mind could've come up with something else. He wished he could've dreamed about hanging out with Silas. That would've been amazing. What will be more wonderful is the next time they could meet again. Does that sound weird? He hopes not; no it shouldn't.

Right as his phone went off, he opened his eyes giving up on trying to get back to sleep. Atticus used his elbows to prop himself up. Reaching for his phone, he swiped it opened to see the text. Yawing, he only read the text once. The only part that had his attention was the fact that Silas texted him back right away. It is difficult to recall the last time getting a message ever made him so happy. "Cool, I was just a little worried cause of the news.", he sent then added, "No worries. :)"

Atticus blankly stared at the phone screen for a while. Eventually after waiting for a minute or two, his mind wandered off thinking about the next potential victim Phantom will choose. He really wished that something like that was not a big issue as it is. The fact that it is always in the front of his brain makes him so stressed out. Today is most likely a boxing day for him, and he might ruin three punching bags just pondering about this.

Going off of public records, Nova City has at least a dozen left of heroes that have revealed their identities and are public. Originally there was more than twenty, but then Phantom started his killing spree. Every victim was found in an area with another person whether that be outside a restaurant with a date or walking near the waterfront with a friend. He has to be that second person no matter what; the only thing is who could it be, where will that hero go, and when. The only thing he can guess is that the scene has to be on the east side. How else would Phantom be able to disappear so quick?

Throwing his covers off, he stood up. Immediately his attention was drawn to the picture of him and Silas when they were younger. Atticus giggled happy to have found him again. "Adorable"

Silas felt his phone buzz again as he was once again eating a granola bar for breakfast so his stomach would stop grumbling. He always seemed to just stare at the wall in a dazed sort of half-dream as he ate, his mind going too quickly and too slowly at once. Just the idea that it was notification from Atticus made him smile.

"Oh? You mean Sharktooth?" Silas asked in response, hoping that was what the other boy was referring to. It was certainly the only news that Silas had been thinking about. He sighed as he finished up his granola bar, not wanting to face the day. What did he need to do? Get a new phone, but other than that, just plan. He would head out soon, he decided, and went to go put on some clothes. He'd been wandering around the space in sweats, since now that it was cooler, that was what he slept in. There was no heating or air conditioning here, and i made Silas wish for a real apartment before he remembered that he'd have to steal a lot more money for that. He could do it, but it would be considerably harder than the occasional bit of cash or credit card he took now.

Silas threw on a jacket over the t-shirt and jeans he had donned, heading outside. He snuck around a bit until he was in a more crowded area, blending into the crowd. He was fairly clean for someone who lived in an abandoned building, because thankfully there was a gym only a few blocks down from him so he paid for a monthly membership under a fake name. The staff was fairly lax, so he rarely worried about anyone being suspicious or recognizing him. And the gym had decent showers, which was the whole reason he had the membership in the first place. Something about being unclean had always bothered him, even when he was a kid. He had never been the type to play in the mud or jump in puddles, due to his hatred for not being at least moderately clean.

"Sharktooth?", he wondered while reading the text. Atticus bit the corner of his bottom lip as he turned his head to the left. Not really what he meant, but alright then. Briefly he searched up Sharktooth figuring out what Silas was mentioning. Oh? Never has he ever crossed paths with that villain. Only would he see him on the news or through SuperWatch and the superhero investigation apps. Well, Phantom is probably his first real villain he ever had met. They say that the first you meet is typically your arch-nemesis; in this case they're right on that.

Glancing over at his alarm clock, he shook his head. The gym shouldn't be packed, it's the perfect time to head on over. Pacing around the room, he wondered what to do first: get ready for the gym or text Silas. Either or shouldn't take too long, yet Atticus doesn't want to make Silas wait too long. Turning back to his phone he started to text. "Yeah sure, it's crazy huh? With that and everything else, I always get worried.", he sent before adding, "Anyways, I gotta go. Ttyl! :D" That should be good enough, right? It is not really mention Phantom or the killings, but the message is vague. On the other hand this is Nova City, defiantly is easy to list the bigger current events.

Atticus turned the phone off letting it plop on top of a binder. Changing into some sweats, he went back to running around the room gathering gym stuff. A change of clothes, boxing gloves, medical tape, his wallet, phone, and so on. All of it went into a duffel bag that sort of looks the same as the bag he uses to hold Adonais's uniform except this one was light gray. Haphazardly, he threw in everything then zipped it up throwing the bag over his shoulder.

He sped over to the kitchen trying to find anything easy to eat. Atticus kept yawning as he picked up a granola bar then left to go down to the parking garage. Breakfast on weekends was something that he wasn't too serious about. Of course if it is a work-out morning, he'd have to have more than just one of his step-dad's granola bars. It'll be okay, what's the worst that could happen? Beats him. He didn't really think much about it as he put on his helmet then started up the motor-bike.

Silas looked at his phone again as it buzzed, feeling a rush of happiness when it was Atticus instead of Evan. Silas’s heart warmed at the way Atticus said he got worried. It probably wasn’t really about him; it had to be more of a general worry than anything else. Right?

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it as he approached the phone store. But before he could get inside, he got another call from Evan. He glared at the phone, not answering. His ex called another two times before in anger, Silas finally picked it up. “What do you want, Evan?” he asked, annoyed.

“Wow, way to say hello,” Evan drawled. “It’s a good thing you picked up the phone this time, Silas. Or should I say, Phantom?” Silas felt the blood drain from his face.

“What do you want?” he growled, eyes narrowing. “Spit it out so we can get this over with.”

“I want to team up,” Evan announced, sounding proud of himself for the idea.

“Team up? You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I want your help with something. And if you don’t help me, I’ll expose your little secret. You want your identity to remain a secret, don’t you? You have family and friends who don’t know you’re even alive, so this news would fuck them up big time, wouldn’t it?”

Silas might not have cared about this a couple of weeks ago, or even a few days ago. But somehow knowing that Atticus would hate him for this changed his mind. And the kid. Addy. Just imagining the light leaving her eyes at the truth made him feel emotions he hadn’t felt since Charlie died. So much for not having attachments. How had this happened so quickly?

“What do you want me to help you with?” Silas asked angrily, gritting his teeth. He would have just threatened to expose Evan, but he knew the other boy wouldn’t care. Like Silas, his sanity had started to slip away at some moments. Evan was much further along that path than Silas, however, and he had the fervent gleam of a madman in his eyes.

“Meet me tonight at six pm exactly.” Then the line went dead. Great. Now thanks to this blackmail, Silas was going to have to keep his old phone.

Every time he drove his motorbike when it wasn't an emergency, he is happy. Although Atticus probably needs something faster to keep up, he doesn't mind. The gray vehicle weaved through traffic as it traveled about the city. His little radio played music that he couldn't hear. Between the engine and the sounds of the city, it was hard to hear the music.

Through the showcase window of a store, a television stood playing the news as always. Atticus took another look up at the red light before looking at the television. It kept replaying the scenes of whatever had happen last night with Sharktooth till it changed to a news anchor. In the little box in the corner there was a dark picture of someone. He had to squint and lean a bit in order to figure out they were still talking about superheroes and villains. This time though, they're talking about Phantom.

Atticus couldn't help but squeeze the bike handle just thinking about that vile villain. The handle made a dent sound so he had to let go of it. Still, every second he thought of him, he'd be fill with outrage. Never in the last six years has he been this angry over something. And he's only met this villain too, once! It is still too early whether or not to determine if this monster really is going to be his ultimate enemy. Maybe. You're supposed to keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?

Some car behind him honked. Jumping, he noticed the light turned green then went to back driving again. Nova City has a lot of things from grocery stores to gyms. Of course, there's plenty of good places nearby him, but he really liked to drive around and see things while on his way. Besides this particular gym has just about everything someone such as himself would need: punching bags, weights, treadmills, nice cold showers, you name it. Plus it's closer to the east side and the waterfront. If he has any time he definitely should check out the places the next potential victim might go.

When he parked in the parking garage nearby, he put down the stand and sat there. His phone rested in his hand with the screen facing up. For some reason, Atticus felt like something was going on. It's those stupid heartstrings going off again. The phone lit up only to reveal a notification from another app. Despite it not being Silas, he still opened it but only to stare at their text conversation.

"What is going on?", he whispered to himself, "Fate just doesn't make two people cross paths for nothing." And with that, he slipped the phone in his pocket then left the garage.

(Oh no, you're perfectly alright! I hope everything is okay. Sorry for the late response.)

(thanks for the concern and it's totally fine!)

After that harrowing conversation, Silas only had one thought in mind–coffee. Coffee from a coffee shop might be a bit on the expensive side, but he currently had enough cash to cover it. It was less than ten dollars, after all, even if was probably too much to pay for a drink. He needed something after being dragged into another one of Evan's schemes. He knew that he shouldn't have ever dated Evan, but it was too late for that now. Now, he had to find a way out of this mess. Maybe he could turn Phantom the villain everyone had pegged him as, into a vigilante. It would take more than just getting rid of Evan for that idea to work, and no way would the heroes accept him–not that he wanted those bastards to–but the public might hate him less. Another thing he hardly cared about. But now some of the people who were part of the public had opinions that mattered to him.

This time, instead of killing a hero, he would kill Sharktooth. The only problem was, as awful of a person Evan was, could Silas kill him? They'd dated for a while, after all. But every time since Silas had broken up with his past paramore, he was scared for his life and sanity whenever he and Evan were near each other. Ugh! Why was he thinking of morals now, of all times? If anything, this was the closest to morally right decision he'd be making since he was in high school.

Silas had to stop thinking so much. He got his coffee and sat down, sipping at it. It was a rare treat for him, and something that would help him think. Maybe he needed to think more, not less. How would he go about this feat? And would this start a new path for him? One where he killed villains instead of heroes? Maybe. It wouldn't be that easy to ignore all of the hypocrisy and corruption in hero society, though. But he could become more of what people would probably call an "anti-hero" or "vigilante" if he started taking out morally corrupt people, regardless of their affiliation. What did affiliation matter, anyhow, when it came to morals? Just like being called a hero didn't make someone a good person, being called a villain didn't make someone a bad one. Sure, some villains murdered for fun and reveled in the corruption of society, but others had lofty goals for the future and different ways of achieving those goals than what was legal. Things weren't as black and white as people liked to think.

So that was it then? Silas was going to make his alter ego change, just for two people? Just for his own petty weaknesses? Maybe. But he figured since labels had stopped mattering to him a long time ago, why not make Phantom a vigilante? He had nothing to lose.

Atticus sat on the weight bench stretching out his body. Right after he came in, he went straight for the weights. Typically he preferred to do punching bags first or some sword training, but why not shake it up a little? He stood up, slid some weights on each side of the bar, then went back to work.

Even after fifteen minutes, he wasn't exhausted yet, he could go on for hours if he wanted. Setting the weight back in its holding place, he sat on the bench for a second. His eyes laid on the phone which rested next to his water bottle. For a few moments, he waited to see if it would light up with a notification. Nothing. A sigh left him as he got up grabbing his things heading over to the closet available treadmill.

On the television it showed the news. Atticus cannot really hear it well due to the distance and his panting, but he could tell what the anchors were talking about. In the back behind the people were pictures of the murders from Friday evening. Right next to those pictures was one of Phantom. The only one they were able to obtain. It was so dim for anyone to see anything. Even with it zoomed in it is very difficult to make out anything. Of course, he still remembers what the villain looks like. The sluggish yet mildly driven movement, the short stature, and the raven colored hair. It is just that he has a full mental image of that villain. He is awfully curious who is behind that monster and why he is doing all these killings. Could it be possible they'll meet again?

A gym staffer passed by with the remote. She turned on the captions then stood from afar reading it. Atticus slowed down the speed on the treadmill trying to follow along with the captions. All they were really doing is just trying to predict what Phantom will do next as if it weren't obvious already; at least that is what he thinks. He cannot fully assume anything. They only met once and it seems like they'll be crossing paths time and time again. Although, he could not shake this odd feeling off. Familiarity, perhaps? To him it is as if a spirit is tapping on his shoulder trying to whisper him something. Sadly, he cannot pick it up.

Once again, Atticus slowed the speed to a one then turned the machine off. He took his phone off of the little tray then picked it up to dial Silas's number. Hopefully his friend isn't busy at the moment. Maybe they could go on a little walk around the park that's in central downtown. Taking it off speaker, he put the phone up to his ear while standing away from the treadmills.

Silas's phone started to vibrate as he was finishing his coffee. "God dammit, what now Evan," he muttered, picking up the phone to realize it wasn't that piece of shit at all but Atticus calling him instead. An entirely different kind of nervousness filled his stomach. He answered the call, throwing away the empty coffee cup. "Hello?"

It was a generic greeting, but he infused it with warmth, trying to seem like a normal eighteen year old who didn't kill people every week. Yep. Totally normal. When had been the last time he'd had a normal conversation before Atticus had come around? Way too long. That long only talking about things like heroes, villains, and corruption really did a number on someone's mental state, so it wasn't a surprise that Silas was the way he was now.

Still, it would be nice to be normal for once. Hah. Normal. Is that what this thing with Atticus was all about? Did Silas really miss his old friend, or did he just want to pretend he was someone he wasn't? No, of course he missed Atticus. Why was his mind doing this to him? For the last two years, it had been constant cycle of him questioning himself. No, he had to stop doing that. It would destroy what was left of his fragile sanity and mental state. Anyway, he should probably focus on the call.