How I became a supervillain pt 2

It didn't take long for the rest of the school to find out that my brother and I had to work together. And my dad...when he found out, he almost went ballistic.

"What do you mean that Hornsbees is making you work together?! That's ridiculous! Is he trying to turn you into superheroes?!"

"No, dad. He wasn't thrilled that our rivalry actually hurt people and wants to teach us a lesson so that doesn't actually happen."

"Hmmm. Well that is a valuable skill to have. The truth is we're all playing a part. You two must have been really going at it to get him to come up with this punishment."

"It's her fault! She sicced the flight robots on me and buffed them up so I couldn't destroy them," my brother resentfully says.

"Oh and why is that Jim? You used your heat vision on my gauntlets and almost caused me to take a dive. You don't think you didn't have a little comeuppance coming back to you?" I sarcastically ask.

Jim starts toward me and my dad interposes himself between us. Jim glares at him for a moment and I see his eyes begin to burn with a red light.

"Are you sure you want to do that, son?" My dad softly asks.

Jim's eyes go back to the muddy brown they usually and he takes a step back. My dad gives him a slight nod and then looks at both of us sternly.

"You two need to learn to work together until this punishment is done, and once it's done you have to stop sabotaging each other. Haven't I always told you that family must come first? We're all we have and even as super villains, especially as super villains you need to remember that!"

"It'd be easier to remember that if Denise remembered her place," Jim spitefully says.

"Or maybe Jim, it would be easier if you remembered that both of you are meant shine," my dad smoothly replies.

"There's only room for one in the spotlight, dad. That's what we're taught at school. That's what you've shown me, so don't give me that line."

"In your career, you will always want to stand out, because that's how you get better gigs, but its a career. Don't treat it as your entire life. I've told you that as well."

"Whatever," Jim says and stalks off.

"You want to mouth off to me as well, Denise?" Dad asks.

"No. I'm not even trying to compete with him. I can't help it that we're twins and in the same classes. I wish we weren't," I tiredly respond.

"It would make things easier, I suppose," Dad wistfully says. "But you are his twin and you are in the same class. That isn't on you, and doing your best isn't either."

"I don't even want to be a supervillain dad. I just want to use my talents for something else."

"I wish you could but the Defining Center of Adjustments and Super Hero Bureau doesn't allow anyone with super abilities to be anything but the roles we're given and the people who step out of those roles end up disappearing."

"Doesn't that bother you, dad?"

"Of course it bothers me, but there's not much we can do. We play the parts we're assigned to, and if we do well it provides a pretty easy life. I don't know that I would really want to work at a boring day job selling insurance to someone, or whatever else I'd have to do. I'm sure in your case, you'd do something brilliant, but not everyone has your gifts or creativity."

I look at my dad thoughtfully. He likes what he does. He's probably right about me and himself. I hate to say that, but the truth is I can out think him and my brother easily enough. They rely too much on their powers, whereas my real power is my creativity. My powers are nice, but even without them I would be just fine, doing something meaningful. Him and my brother, on the other hand would probably be doing jobs they hate. It makes me realize why my brother cares so much about the spotlight.

"I'm going to talk with Jim. Hopefully he's cooled down a bit. I need you to do your best to support him and I need him to do the same. You both need to pass the supervillain academy."

"Okay Dad. I'll do my best."

Dad walks away and I go into my room and close and lock the door with an energetic field that will keep anything out, including my brother. Even though he's never directly attacked me yet, I decided early on that I wouldn't take chances. When your brother has super strength, eye beams and other powers, you never take chances.

I go to my desk and pull of my wrist gauntlets off so I can tinker with them further. This is my latest iteration of the gauntlets. I had created 6 previous versions and at a certain point I find that I need to make new ones because I've loaded the existing ones up to capacity and can't make any further changes. Inevitably the next gauntlet I make has all the best features of the previous one, but it makes room for me to start tinkering again. These gauntlets are nearly at capacity, which means I need to start planning the design for the next set.

I pull out some paper and pen and start sketching a sleeker design for the gauntlet, something that's almost skin tight, but flexible, with the circuitry being stacked and having redundancy built in. The gauntlets need to be able to absorb energetic blasts, kinetic energy and also be able to fly. But it would also help if they can resist change in temperature and create an energetic barrier that's invisible. It'll take a lot of work to pull all that off and get the materials needed, but I know it's time to plan for the next iteration. Today's near accident assures me of that reality.

For the next hour I work on sketching out the features and figuring out the materials I'll need. I'm ordering the materials when I hear a knock on the door.

"Yeah, what is it?" I impatiently ask.

"It's Jim. I want to talk with you."

He never wants to talk with me.

"Give me a moment and I'll meet you downstairs," I reply.

"Sure. See you there."

Now I'm really suspicious. He doesn't normally act this way. I'd better be ready for anything with him. I hurriedly wrap up my order and send it off and put my gauntlets on and slip on an armor undershirt I've developed and not tested out, yet.

I cautiously peek out the small door hole I have in my door. No sign of Jim. I open the door, on guard, but he's still not there. I cautiously walk into the hallway and then head downstairs. Jim is lounging on the couch, idly flipping channels on the TV.

"You wanted to talk with me, so talk," I say.

"Yeah, I want to talk with you. Dad and I talked and he helped me see that I need to work with you instead of against you. I'm sorry about what I did today in the amphitheater. I've been competing with you in a way that is hurting us both."

I almost double take. This can't be my brother.

"Yeah you competing with me isn't really helping either of us. I don't want your popularity. I honestly don't care."

Jim shakes his head and says, "That's so weird to me, but that's what dad said too, and we have to work together for at least the next few weeks, so I'm willing to work with you. We have to anyway and I don't want to fight anymore."

I warily eye Jim. He's never talked this way before and it surprises me. For a moment I consider turning around and leaving and then I stop myself, thinking about what my dad said to me.

"I'm sorry too, about the drone attack. I was really frustrated, but I took it pretty far," I say.

Jim looks surprised at my apology and then gives me a half smile and says, "That was pretty impressive Denise. It made me realize I rely too much on my powers. You're really smart, and maybe I could learn from that."

"Maybe you could and maybe I could learn from you. Let's do our best to work together for as long as we've got this punishment."

"Deal," Jim says and holds out his hand. I cautiously take his hand and we shake.

"Ok well thanks for talking with me," I say and then turn around and start walking away.

"Dad had a suggestion actually," Jim says.

"Oh yeah. What was that?"

"He thinks we should make dinner together. Might be a good idea to try and work together at home as well at school."

"He did?!" I ask, half fascinated and half filled with dread at the thought of trying to cook a meal with my brother.

"Yeah...so uh wanna make dinner?"

I laugh, because I don't know how else to respond and then I say, "Sure. But let's make dad at clean the dishes."

"That's a good idea," Jim replies with a grin. It's odd to see him act like a person instead of a villain. He used to be this way when mom was alive and we got along better then. Maybe Mr. Hornsbee has actually done us a favor.

To be continued...

Want more superhero fiction: Check out my story: Learning How to Save the Day.