The Undoing Of Villains | ✓

three

a/n: dedicated to @peony_bird81 for the votes and lovely comments I love responding to! thanks girl, you light up my day <3

three

SOMETIMES I wondered if I really was a good person - or just a douchebag who was very good at convincing themselves they were actually a decent individual. 

Shoving another slice of pizza into my mouth, I decided I couldn't be that bad. I had my phone propped up against the wall, intensely watching the news coverage of what'd transpired earlier today. It was hard to imagine I'd been a part of it, much less that it'd actually happened. I simply didn't do those kind of things. 

Sure, I was a bit of a tomboy. I'd grown up wrestling in the dirt, monkeying around in trees, playing all sorts of brutal and idiotic versions of traditional games. I had done that - but I'd also been the dutiful daughter, served guests iced tea and cookies, embracing the Southern belle stereotype. Sometimes I wondered if I had had two childhoods, or perhaps an alter ego. That 'Southern belle' bringing trays of treats to guests on arid, hot summer days was the same girl that demanded her brothers teach her how to fight, the same girl who'd taught herself how to fire a gun, who'd apprehended a criminal all on her own a few hours earlier. 

It made me reel back, taking all that in. They were thoughts one had in the back of their mind, but thoughts that were never approached, never properly discussed with oneself. 

Picking up another piece of the pizza, I frowned when I saw I had but one piece left in the carton. I'd had it delivered to my apartment the moment I set foot indoors, after a long and tiring bus ride. 

Public transportation. Love to hate it. 

Disregarding my current state of mind, I continued listening to the news. The incident had been central enough and dangerous enough for it to generate a decent amount of buzz, which was why they'd reported on it for over fifteen minutes already. I'd seen parts of me in some footage which had been sent to the news channel by bystanders, but never enough to know it was me. 

"We've received information Dynamo's own super Brann was there, also known as the sidekick to Vector. We're waiting for information or any sort of help from the duo."

It seemed little Jell-O-Legs had a nickname. Brann.

"Huh." I said out loud to absolutely no one but myself, "Cute." I almost felt proud of him, despite the fact that Brann had contributed with absolutely nothing to today's ordeal. The news report went on for some time until my network started lagging, and I shut it off. 

I turned focus to the new messages in my inbox, all dumped in our group chat. Having three brothers that communicated frequently with you was alright, but in this case they did so through the chat, generating endless rows of all possible discussions I did not want to get into. 

They were still writing with one another, and simply reading what they were discussing - the importance of wiping off sweat from gym equipment after using it - gave me a headache. I loved them to bits, I really did, so I figured I did them a favor by delivering some hard truth. 

Charlotte: There are more important things in the world than sweaty gym equipment. 

My phone pinged a second later. The youngest of us all, little Austin, was the one who replied first. 

Austin: For you maybe, but that's because you never go to the gym. 

The device vibrated again, a millisecond afterwards. I rolled my eyes at the words, quickly responding. Of course it was Connor, second youngest, who'd deliver the snide remarks. Not this time little brother.