#tpu

Virtue peeks over the top of their laptop as Airael finishes packing up their stuff. He salutes with two fingers and walks out into the snow covered driveway where Gemini is waiting in the car. Michael had left earlier to go out with his moms to see some family, so just they and Bug are left to clean everything up.

Bug stretches a little, and Virtue can hear its spine pop from how quiet the cold garage is. “Hey Virtue, have you heard-” It starts until a light trill comes from its phone. It looks at whatever notification had just come in, smiles, and softly hums part of some song Virtue doesn’t recognize.

There’s a strong flutter of emotion in their chest, and for a moment as they look at Bug, they don’t see the 20 something band leader and friend that stands in front of them, but instead someone who could be their sibling. A sibling who they’re so happy for and proud of. As soon as it appears, as soon as Virtue can taste the feeling, it’s gone.

“Who was that?” They ask, and Bug’s head snaps up to them in mild surprise.

“Uh, that was Malcolm. He’s having a good day today.” It says with a slight grin as it puts its phone back into its pocket.

Virtue tries to reach for someone named Malcolm, but the best that they can come up with is an annoying student from when they were in college. They look at Bug, who looks like it’s trying to hold in laughter, and failing horribly.

“Is he really more of a wallflower than you? Oh my God that’s so- holy shit you don’t know who I’m talking about!” They cackle and double over in giggles. “Oh boy, give me a minute, I can’t- you don’t remember him holy shit.”

“This isn’t as funny as you think. Who’s Malcolm?”

Bug takes a few deep breaths, stands up, and takes another stabilizing breath. “Sorry, uh, Malcolm has been coming to practices since we started playing almost four years ago. He’s come to a lot since you’ve joined and started watching us play. I think it’s funny that you haven’t noticed him since you both do the same thing.”

Virtue raises an eyebrow. “The same thing.” They deadpan, and they can feel their face put on a very disinterested look.

Bug still nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. Don’t talk, and sit not in the corner but near it on a wall and just watch from where the most backs are pointed. Wallflowers, but he’s probably had more practice than you.”

“I still don’t know who he is, you know.” Virtue reminds it. “How do you know him?”

“One moment.” Bug pulls out its phone again, and scrolls for a few seconds before turning it to show a picture of a young teenager.

He has the same pale face and round eyes that Bug has, but no burn scar and his eyes are black instead of green. His hair is curlier than Bug’s, but still inky black with bright orange dying the tips so they frame his face.

“That’s Malcolm. He’s my little brother.”

At those words, something inside of Virtue’s head clicks, and they turn to stare at Bug. “What’s your favorite song right now?”

“Um, I’m not sure?” Bug’s eyebrows furrow slightly as they lean closer.

Virtue sighs and pinches the bridge of their nose as they try and figure out how to be absolutely sure that they’re wrong. “Hum a song that makes you think of Malcolm.”

Bug’s brow goes from being furrowed, to one arching up as they shrug. “If you say so.” They start to hum and ‘bapada’ a tune, and the same strong feelings of familial love rise up from deep in Virtue’s sternum, quickly followed by an intense and concentrated emotion that they haven’t felt in a long time. Panic.

They hit the garage door button, drag Bug into the house by the wrist, and lock the door behind them. They quickly check the hallway, and look at Bug. Its face is confused and concerned for Virtue, and they take as much oxygen into their lungs as they possibly can.

“Bug, what I’m about to tell you, I tell you for your safety.” Virtue whispers. “You have a Power. I’m not one hundred percent sure what it is, but it’s very subtle, and that’s why you haven’t realized it yet.”

The shift in its emotions is fast, and a very real look of terror fills its eyes. “You mean . . . you mean I-I’m a . . .” It trails off as Bug’s eyes focus on the wall behind Virtue.

“You’re an unregistered Power Holder, yes.” Virtue nods. “I’m sorry.”

Bug’s hand grabs at their chest as they slide down the wall onto the floor. “I can’t be, What- what would I even be? You said it was subtle, you could have made it up.” They look at Virtue with pure desperation as their voice starts to break. “You could have.”

Virtue crouches down in front of Bug. “You sang two songs that made you think about your little brother, who you love and are so, so proud of. I know you are, because I felt it. You showed me what you were feeling through singing. I want to be wrong, I do. I’d rather you have killed people than be unregistered, but that’s not the case. I’m sorry.”

Bug falls into Virtue’s shoulder, and starts to sob. “I can’t be, I can’t- it’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.” It repeats over and over again as its grip on Virtue’s jacket becomes tight and unmoving. It cries until it has no more tears, and shakes until it has no more energy to move.

Virtue rubs its back in small circles. “Are you ready to go home?”

Bug barely nods, and lets Virtue drag them up and lead them out to the car. Snow starts to fall down around them as they turn the engine, and drive off to deal with it elsewhere.