Archive of Our Own ^beta

     Roman stood on the old water tower, breath heaving, the sky dark with clouds. Opposite him stood the superhero Anxiety, who was in much the same condition. Neither wanted to fight anymore, but they couldn't be sure if the other was the same. They weren't sure of anything anymore.

     Not since Virgil had told his closest friend Roman about him being the superhero Anxiety. Roman had looked horrified and had caved, confessing he was one half of the supervillain duo Creativity and his brother was the other. 

     Virgil had ran. He didn't know how to handle it and though it may have been irrational to some, he was scared Roman would spill his secret and out him to the world.

     Not even an hour later, Roman was setting off smoke machines in the town square, where he’d gotten them, no one could be sure, but he hadn't actually hurt anyone. He never had. Only stolen things and vandalized stuff and spooked people, but he'd always gone out of his way to not hurt anyone.

     Though the same could not be said for Remus. His mace was not just for the aesthetic.

     Roman, seeing that they were at least momentarily done with fighting, spoke. “You can come join me. Stand by my side, live a life of luxury with money and wealth! We can right the world of all the corruption it's facing. We don't have to fight. We can watch the people follow us! Don't you want that?”

     Even to him, his speech didn't sound convincing. He prepared for Virgil’s inevitable response of ‘No! That’s not the right way to do that! That's fear it'll never work!’

     “Or! We could do it the morally correct way and get faster results! You can stand by my side and watch the people love us! And they'd actually want to be around you!” Virgil said. "And you may not go to jail!”

     Roman blinked. Did.. Did Virgil just throw his speech back at him? He had to admit, he’d never liked the negative attention from the public, but the nice way never seemed to get anyone anywhere. 

     “It's too late for me,” Roman said, the wind picking up.

     Thunder sounded in the distance. One, two, three, four, five. Lightning lit up the sky.

     “It's not though,” Virgil said, stepping closer. He shivered slightly. He’d never liked the cold.

     “Aren't I supposed to be the optimistic one..?” Roman chuckled in a way that managed to be self deprecating.

     “Flipping the script, I guess,” Virgil did a similar sort of hollow smile. “But it's not too late. You can still change your ways. Return what you stole. Try to make up for what you broke in helping the public. You can sit behind a screen and tell me what's going on. Or you can take on a new identity and join Morality and I in fighting crime. Roman, please.”

     “I..” Roman started, but he wasn't sure where he was going to end that sentence.

     Crack! One, two- the sky lit up once more and Roman could feel the first drops of water on his face where his mask didn't cover.

     In a split second, Roman made his decision. “Okay.”

     “Okay?” Virgil asked.

     “Okay,” Roman repeated. Then, as an attempt to make the mood lighter, he said, “Never liked the family business anyway.”

     Roman could see the beginnings of a smile on Virgil’s face.

     Thunder shook the water tower and Virgil flinched, shrinking back as much as the hood on his suit allowed him to without actually moving away from Roman. 

     “Let's get off this dumb thing and go home,” Roman said.

     “My house,” Virgil agreed. “And Morality and I have an abandoned cabin a couple minutes away from here where we can change out of our suits. So we aren't noticed, y’know?”

     Roman nodded, glancing down the side where he'd accidentally broken the ladder on his way up. He summoned a grappling hook and latched himself to Virgil. “Hang on tight.”

     He swung the two of them over to the top of a nearby building. And for once in the years since he'd made his debut as Creativity, he had hopes that things would be alright.