Chapter Text
Virgil climbed up the fire escape. Someone was walking around on the roof.
This was one of the drawbacks of enhanced senses. It wasn’t an anxiety symptom if someone was out to get you, was it? He was just glad living on the top floor gave him an excuse (somewhat).
Although it made the sounds worse, so how good could it be?
A figure with a ponytail was pacing on the roof. The person was turned away from him, so their face wasn’t visible. He reached the top of the stairs at the same time they turned around.
“Connie?”
“Virgil!” She brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Why are you here?”
“This is my building! Why are you here?”
“My mom’s out tonight. She won’t be home until four.” Connie pulled her phone from her back pocket. She was wearing a dark pair of jeans, darker than Virgil knew she owned. “Two more hours.”
He stared at her. She blinked.
“Okay, that’s not why I’m here. We both know that. But I could say the same for you. If I had to guess, boy trouble.”
“I thought someone was here. What was I supposed to do?” He gestured down at himself. “I don’t sleep. You do.”
“Okay. Right.” She looked down, and Virgil noticed that she was wearing boots instead of her usual Converse. She did sound unfamiliar. “Did I say that out loud?“
"Yeah, you did.” You always did, he thought. But the back-and-forth came nearly as naturally as it did with Patton.
“Okay. You’re sure it’s not boy trouble? With… what’s the name, that goth… Ellen?”
“Somebody’s been watching too many daytime talk shows.”
“I’m a basic white girl. It’s my job.” Connie stepped over to a raised block on the building. She gave a soft giggle.
Virgil could find no fault with that argument.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, walking over to her. She sat down instinctively.
“Nothing. Just remembering.” She bit her lip as her eyes darted around. “I was seven and you were nine. Superheroes were all the rage back then. Do you remember?”
Of course he did. How couldn’t he? “Yeah.”
“I, of course, being the kid that I was, did public service. I had these neon blue cat ears and jacket that I–” She interrupted herself with another laugh. “Neon blue. I thought it was…the best thing.”
She leaned back and clutched the hem of her jacket. “And I ran around the house pushing chairs in and such. Er, stuff. Junie was in college back then. No, but she was on break.” Her voice was rising steadily. “She told me I had to go find someone else. So I got you a purple pair and a hoodie. We ran around the city.”
“No, y–never mind.” Virgil waved her off.
“Right, I ran around the city, and you were…just kind of there.”
“Not anymore,” Virgil muttered more loudly than he’d intended.
“What?” She barely moved when saying that. But then, that was Connie.
“Nothing.”
“Okay, then.” She shook her head. “The world’s really different from how I thought it was, isn’t it?”
“It’s still worth saving.”
“Okay.”
He took a hesitant step backwards, then a smaller one forward.
Connie stared blankly at him. “Why don’t you want to do this?”
“You don’t remember.” Virgil wanted to laugh.
“And you do?” Her comment was more offhand than anything else.
“I remember mistakes I made in kindergarten. Of course I remember the last time you woke me up this late to tell me something.”
“Then… you should understand it’s my fault. And I’m sorry.”
“It’s not like we weren’t over. We’re probably better like this.”
“Okay.” Connie made another noise in the back of her throat. “But we were friends, back then. What happened?”
“Melanie and Izzy.”
“No, it was after that,” said Connie. “High school. You were fourteen and I wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“For me, it was. Also, I want to dye my hair blue. Not the whole thing, just streaks.”
“Little bit late to go through your goth phase now.”
“Why? You’re still in it.” She laughed. He didn’t.
“Okay, maybe that was a bit rude.” Connie jumped up and started pacing.
“You won’t do it.”
“I know, I know.”
She pulled out her phone. Virgil noted she had a galaxy phone case. It made him think of someone.
“Melanie almost punched me in the face today,” she continued, staring at her phone while pacing. “Just walked up behind her, and she turned around. I had to duck. Who did she think I was? Delirium?”
Someone who wasn’t thinking of him.
“Don’t joke about Delirium,” was what came out instead. Patton. He was honestly surprised it ended there. Nothing else would come out.
Just like with Patton.
“You joked about your problems all the time. Do you still do that?” Connie stopped pacing.
“Yeah, but it’s different. You never did.”
“I know.” She started back up again. “Do you really think Delirium’s a hoax?”
“No.” Once again, it ended there. He flexed each of his fingers experimentally.
“Really? You seem like the conspiracy theorist type.” Connie giggled, short and bubbly. Way too bubbly.
Probably fake.
“I am. Just not about this.”
“Okay.” Connie stopped again and started tapping at her phone. “Whatever happened to superheroes?”
“What do you mean?” Virgil stared at her flatly.
“You know what I mean.” She gave him a look. “Same thing that caused the Virgilante–Vigilante, sorry.”
“That?” Virgil moved toward the fire escape. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either.” She started typing again.
“What are you even doing?” He could probably see over her shoulder, but he wanted to know what she’d say.
“Texting Junie to come pick me up.”
“What does a college teacher want at 2 a.m.?” Yes, Virgil, all the right questions.
“You’d be surprised.” The phone chimed in a very satisfying way. “Must be her.”
She stopped sharply on her way to the fire escape. “This didn’t happen.”