Absent Spark [UNDER CONSTRUCTION]

I

It would be my luck that my superhero brother would stumble into the living room while I was typing my school report. His silver and blue suit was ripped in various places, and multiple bruises adorned the visible parts of his body.

"Did they put up a fight?" I asked, putting my laptop to the side.

"A hell of a good one, but I got them in the end." He said, flopping onto the couch.

I got up and moved over by him. I crouched on the ground in front of his chair and began to inspect his injuries.

"What was it this time?" I asked him, inspecting a cut running down his forearm once he rolled up his sleeves.

"A serial killer had broke out of jail and was meeting up with some other criminals, but I stopped them." He said, flexing his injured arm trying to look tough.

He winced and put it back down.

"Don't do that." I scolded, slapping him lightly.

I grabbed the healing salve from the coffee table, and began to rub it onto the bruises on his face.

"I could have helped you know." I said quietly, moving on to the cut on his arm.

"No." He said firmly.

"But-" I tried to protest.

"But no. With mom and dad gone, it's up to me to protect you. So that includes protecting you from superhero duties." He said.

"I can protect myself." I protested.

"I know that. But I can't see you get hurt. I just can't." He said.

A huge gust of wind swept through the room, picking up papers and blowing my dark brown hair back.

"I'm sorry." Brooke muttered.

"It's fine." I said quietly.

I put some of the salve on his knuckles, and watched as the bruises disappeared.

"You're good to go." I told him, standing up and brushing the invisible dust off my skirt.

"Just give me the suit when you're done getting freshening up and I'll patch it up later." I smiled.

"Thanks." He muttered, walking out of the room.

The gust of wind helped clue me in on the sudden change of attitude. Brooke was obviously mad that I tried to talk to him about superheroing again. Well, maybe not mad, but be always got like this when I brought the topic up. I sighed, and sat back down in my chair.

I just wanted to help him, there was nothing wrong with that. Well, in his eyes there was: I could get hurt. He comes home with bruises and cuts and gunshot wounds and broken bones, but he's worried about me getting hurt. I worried about him constantly too, couldn't he see that?

I huffed and got back on my laptop, pushing the thoughts away. I closed the history paper and went to order some pizza. I ordered it, and pulled back up the paper.

I worked on that until the doorbell rang. I grabbed my wallet and opened the door.

"How much?" I asked, my green eyes scanning my wallet for my credit card.

"How much for what?"

I looked up to see not the pizza man, but Anna and Will. They were my best, and only, friends. Anna's stunning red hair was in an intricate braid I could never pull off, one perfectly plucked eyebrow arched. Will's brown hair had unruly like always and his brown eyes sparkled with amusement. His features may have sounded plain, but on him it wasn't.