Chapter four
If Jonathan was paranoid, it was with good reason. People really did talk behind his back, leave him out of plans and set him up for spiteful jokes. He'd spent most of high school learning when to be suspicious, and it had paid off.
There was something new. Something had spawned and was festering even now, beyond the usual basement mildew and the smell of sweat that came from three young men sharing the same space twenty-four hours a day. It wasn't entirely tangible just yet, but Jonathan could feel it, just beyond the reach of words. Close enough to taste, but not so firm that he could bite.
Andrew was quiet. That was enough to alert any hunt-able creature to potential danger. As a rule, Andrew rarely had a thought that did not pass immediately to his mouth, but now Jonathan could see something behind his eyes that he was choosing not to vocalise. It had to be something menacing, he guessed, if Andrew had enough self-control to keep it to himself. He'd taken to wearing a sly, secretive smile that cleared up whenever he caught Jonathan looking at him, and sometimes would disappear so far into his thoughts that he looked entirely lost.
Other times he bounced around the lair like he was expending a week's worth of pent-up energy, and Jonathan became convinced it was some kind of displacement activity, like he had to keep moving for fear of letting his secret slip out if he stayed too still for too long.
Maybe he could deal with Andrew's odd behaviour if Warren weren't so dismissive of it. Usually Warren was the first to find a reason to yell at Andrew, but lately he had become oddly lenient. He barely reacted to Andrew's raving over Michael Dorn's spot in what Warren had called a truly abysmal 'Outer Limits', and he'd stopped sending Andrew away when he hovered over Warren's work desk.
Jonathan was fairly certain they'd all been friends at one time, honest-to-goodness friends who hung out because they enjoyed each other's company. The super-villain shtick was screwing that up beyond belief.
A couple of weeks ago, he'd just been getting over the fact that Andrew was a complete ditz and Warren hated everyone who wasn't Warren. Now, he couldn't help wondering just what they were capable of. After all, there were spells in his repertoire he hadn't told the others about, so who knew what they were hiding from him? Andrew might easily do something stupid out of spite, and Warren, well...
Jonathan had tried to relieve his own neuroses by fixing himself, but Warren seemed convinced he could make things better by fixing the rest of the world.
There might have been some worth in that. Out of the three of them, Warren was the one who might have stood a fair chance out in the world. He wore suits when he took them to the Bronze, and talked back to the wise guys, even if they usually responded with their fists, and he could talk to girls without stuttering over every other word. He'd sold his revenge fantasies with that same confidence, and made them both believe taking over this stupid town would make them all feel better.
That same solidarity still lingered, but now Jonathan was beginning to think that 'us against the world' only applied when they were actually out in the world. Within the confines of the basement, the world seemed so far away. Resentments had to be taken out on other things.
He found himself beating up pixellated people more and more often. It wasn't the same as smacking that smile off Andrew's face, but it helped.
Eventually he'd find out what they were hiding from him, and then he could say he'd known all along.
~~~~~
tbc
If Jonathan was paranoid, it was with good reason. People really did talk behind his back, leave him out of plans and set him up for spiteful jokes. He'd spent most of high school learning when to be suspicious, and it had paid off.
There was something new. Something had spawned and was festering even now, beyond the usual basement mildew and the smell of sweat that came from three young men sharing the same space twenty-four hours a day. It wasn't entirely tangible just yet, but Jonathan could feel it, just beyond the reach of words. Close enough to taste, but not so firm that he could bite.
Andrew was quiet. That was enough to alert any hunt-able creature to potential danger. As a rule, Andrew rarely had a thought that did not pass immediately to his mouth, but now Jonathan could see something behind his eyes that he was choosing not to vocalise. It had to be something menacing, he guessed, if Andrew had enough self-control to keep it to himself. He'd taken to wearing a sly, secretive smile that cleared up whenever he caught Jonathan looking at him, and sometimes would disappear so far into his thoughts that he looked entirely lost.
Other times he bounced around the lair like he was expending a week's worth of pent-up energy, and Jonathan became convinced it was some kind of displacement activity, like he had to keep moving for fear of letting his secret slip out if he stayed too still for too long.
Maybe he could deal with Andrew's odd behaviour if Warren weren't so dismissive of it. Usually Warren was the first to find a reason to yell at Andrew, but lately he had become oddly lenient. He barely reacted to Andrew's raving over Michael Dorn's spot in what Warren had called a truly abysmal 'Outer Limits', and he'd stopped sending Andrew away when he hovered over Warren's work desk.
Jonathan was fairly certain they'd all been friends at one time, honest-to-goodness friends who hung out because they enjoyed each other's company. The super-villain shtick was screwing that up beyond belief.
A couple of weeks ago, he'd just been getting over the fact that Andrew was a complete ditz and Warren hated everyone who wasn't Warren. Now, he couldn't help wondering just what they were capable of. After all, there were spells in his repertoire he hadn't told the others about, so who knew what they were hiding from him? Andrew might easily do something stupid out of spite, and Warren, well...
Jonathan had tried to relieve his own neuroses by fixing himself, but Warren seemed convinced he could make things better by fixing the rest of the world.
There might have been some worth in that. Out of the three of them, Warren was the one who might have stood a fair chance out in the world. He wore suits when he took them to the Bronze, and talked back to the wise guys, even if they usually responded with their fists, and he could talk to girls without stuttering over every other word. He'd sold his revenge fantasies with that same confidence, and made them both believe taking over this stupid town would make them all feel better.
That same solidarity still lingered, but now Jonathan was beginning to think that 'us against the world' only applied when they were actually out in the world. Within the confines of the basement, the world seemed so far away. Resentments had to be taken out on other things.
He found himself beating up pixellated people more and more often. It wasn't the same as smacking that smile off Andrew's face, but it helped.
Eventually he'd find out what they were hiding from him, and then he could say he'd known all along.
~~~~~
tbc