The buildings of Biggers were dark and grimy, the sky above them gloomy and gray. The sun had started to glow against their outlines and peeked over some of the stumpier ones.
A black cadillac, almost brown under the light of the sunrise, sped through the tranquility with a raucous roar. Taptap sat stiffly against the driver's seat, his arms nearly straight as he clutched onto the wheel. He wore his sunglasses and had a cigarette dangling from his lips.
He was headed toward the gas station where Underdog had first confronted him. It was the first place Taptap had thought of: it was sort of isolated and small, and clearly Underdog liked being there.
Eventually, the canopy and pumps came into view. Taptap pushed the pedal to the floor of the vehicle and threw the steering wheel to the side. His tires screeched as they turned into the lot. He pulled in beside a pump. Taptap slammed his car door open and shut, fishing around for his gun. He pulled it out of his suit as he opened the door. It jingled as it was opened.
Behind the counter was a small person who was ducked under the counter. When the door jingled, he got up, blinking at Taptap with wide eyes.
"Sir," they said, "No smoking indoors, please—"
Taptap growled and raised his gun.
The small salesclerk squeaked, their hands flying up into the air.
Taptap smirked and strode up to the counter, chuckling along the way. He leaned on the tall counter, pushing the gun even closer to the clerk. They were shaking, and sweating so much that every inch of their skin was shiny.
"If you don't want to get shot, you'll do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?" Taptap asked, his voice as calm and cold as ever.
The clerk glanced at the gun, then nodded with a slight stutter.
"Good," Taptap's smirk got wider, "Now. You are going to give me all the cash in your register, and you're going to call for Underdog."
"U-Under...?" they whimpered.
Taptap's thumb moved to the hammer of his gun.
The salesclerk jumped. "R-right! Ahh..." They stiffly brought their hands down, opening their register with a ding. As they started to dig the cash out from under its latches, they cried out for Underdog meekly.
Taptap stood up straight and clicked his hammer down, scaring another squeak out of the person. But he didn't care, his eyes drawn to the establishment's door.
"Louder," he ordered.
The clerk raised their voice.
Still, the store remained silent and stagnant. Taptap's pointer finger caressed his trigger, and the clerk got louder again. Eventually, they raised a thick wad of cash across the counter. Taptap ripped it out of their hand with such force that it startled a proper scream out of them—a scream of Underdog's name.
"Thank you~" Taptap said in a singsong voice, shuffling the cash into his breast pocket and turning around just in time to see the glass of the door shatter across the tile floor. A rush of air buffeted him, but he felt stronger than ever. Taptap huffed, pulling his gun up to hold it in both hands. "Hello, you."
Underdog's eyes widened before he flew at Taptap, shoving him back. Taptap stumbled, but Underdog held him at the intersection of his lapels and hovered. "How dare you set something up like this?" he growled in Taptap's face, "If I didn't come, I would be remiss!"
Taptap sneered and snickered, placing the barrel of the gun to the underside of Underdog's jaw. "Why yes, you would be, wouldn't you?" he said mockingly.
Underdog glanced at the gun, then returned his gaze to Taptap's face, continuing to growl. Taptap's smirk grew wider as he watched Underdog's throat pulse with a gulp.
A meek voice came from behind them. "U-um, Under... dog?" Both of the dogs looked over, finding the salesclerk clinging to the counter, only their deeply furrowed brows and wide-stretched eyes showing.
Taptap frowned, dropping his gun slightly. He felt a flush creep up his neck. Underdog made a sort of droning noise.
Soon enough, Underdog regained his bearings. "Right!" he exclaimed, tugging on Taptap's lapels. Taptap choked and stumbled forward. "I will take this crook away; it's not fair to make you watch this display," he then turned to Taptap with a cruel smile on his face, eyes narrowing. "Come along now~"
Before he knew what was happening, Taptap felt a rush of wind blow around him—moreso against him. He closed his eyes against the pressure, but quickly found himself falling, eyes shooting open again. He hardly had time to process what he saw before he landed on his butt with a yip, the sting of concrete pressing into his hands. Hands, Taptap noted—the bastard had lost his gun.
He glared up at Underdog. The hero hovered above him with crossed arms and half-lidded eyes. Taptap looked around for only a moment, finding a barrier of parapets surrounding him, the vague shapes of machinery far-off in a corner, and a blue sky growing above him. Underdog had dropped him atop a building. He returned his gaze.
Taptap sat up just enough to smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges with how callous he was being. "So how about that roof?"
Underdog ignored him, his head tilting with curiosity. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice so monotonal that it almost seemed like a statement.
Taptap finally got back to his feet, making sure to lean over Underdog as he spoke. "I'm doing what criminals do best," he said, extending his arms for emphasis. "Do you hear that, Under? Criminals. Not heroes."
Underdog rolled his eyes, his pointer finger twitching against his forearm. He floated up a few inches, pushing Taptap back and meeting his eyes. He smiled back just as callously and floated forward, undoubtedly mocking him. "A big-timer like you, shooting up a 7/24? Oh, please. You're the most famous suicide bomber this city has—"
Taptap let out a grumble, though it quickly turned into a bark as the hero spoke more. The red of Underdog's sweater consumed his vision, and he reeled back to throw a punch. Underdog flew back, hardly moving a foot away. He didn't change his demeanor; he merely pricked his ears and waited until Taptap stopped heaving.
Taptap stumbled over as the forceful attack refused to land, but he continued to growl. He felt his brain swirling, and he couldn't get another word or movement out.
"Just be honest with me," Underdog stated as if nothing had happened.
Taptap blinked away the lingering anger. He gulped as he got his breath back in check. "Honest?" he chuckled. "Honestly, I feel like snapping your neck!"
"Make it quick," Underdog replied without missing a beat, narrowing his eyes even further. "Make it hurt. I'm not scared of you, William."
Taptap lunged forward, barking again. "Why do you keep calling me that?!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking halfway through. He curved his eyebrows downward, feeling his heart start to pound in his chest.
Underdog's eyes widened. He hunched his shoulders and loosened his crossed arms, landing gently on the ground.
"That's what I want, okay!" Taptap cried, gripping tightly at the side of his suit that his heart lay under. He felt the sweat building up beneath his fur, suddenly burning up, the heat of the sun rising up his ears. He brought his voice back down. "I want to know—" how you knew, he wanted to beg, but he blinked and swallowed back the bile of those words. "—why you think we're... related." The word brothers sat heavily on the back of his tongue.
Underdog continued to stare at him, his eyes seeming to mist over. He lowered his head, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh through his mouth. "I just... I feel it. I know because we're bro—"
"DON'T CALL US THAT!" Taptap suddenly exploded, lurching forward. Underdog flinched, but that didn't deter him. He continued to yell, "Now you be honest with me, Under! Huh? Not so fun, is it!" he took a step back, slowly starting to round him. "I'm a criminal!" he shouted. He raised his hand. Underdog cowered even further, but Taptap continued, shooting his fist forward. "I don't want your stupid inheritance!"
Underdog yelped, though he managed to grab Taptap's forearm just before it struck him. Taptap bared his teeth, balling his fist even tighter. He felt his claws press into his palm, hard enough to leave a mark, and the strain of his knuckles with anger. He was so close that he could feel the ghost of Underdog's cheek fur.
The force of his balled hand shook up his arm until Taptap pulled it away, throwing Underdog's hands off. He reeled back his other hand and punched, aiming for Underdog's shoulder. The hero shuffled away, raising his hands slowly. He grimaced, raising his lip to bare his teeth, only high enough to reveal a gap between his incisors.
For a moment, Taptap froze. Junior had a gap in his teeth. His heart panged. Underdog took that opportunity to rush at him, wrapping his arms around his chest and throwing him to the ground. Taptap grunted as the roughness dug into his cheek.
Something dug into Taptap's ribcage. He stumbled back on his butt as Underdog rose above him, only getting closer. Taptap shoved a hand into his suit, fishing desperately for whatever had jabbed him.
Taptap kicked out, managing to strike Underdog's shin. The hero stumbled, falling. He caught himself on his hands and glowered at Taptap. He rose up on his knees, pulling a fist behind his head as far as he could.
It gave Taptap just enough time to find the top of the pocket, dive inside it, and find his fingers caressing rubber. Taptap felt a sliver of shock pierce through him, but he had no time to ponder how a gun had gotten into his suit; he whipped it out, wrapping both his hands around its grip.
Underdog hesitated. He started to lower his hand.
A laugh poured out of Taptap's mouth before he could stop it, his mouth twisting into a smile. He felt blood painfully start to pool somewhere in his jaw, only hurting worse as his lips rose. "Hit me; you won't! Make it quick! Make it hurt! I'll kill you before you do!"
Underdog frowned. He brought a single finger against its muzzle, pushing it away from his face as far as Taptap's arms would go. Taptap's eyes widened. "You won't," Underdog huffed. "I'll explain."
Taptap's hands trembled, both of his pointer fingers itching to pull the trigger. Despite that, he felt his ears prick. Underdog noticed and raised his knee, holding onto it to stand up. Taptap pulled the gun against his chest.
He waved his hand as he spoke, almost pointing to what he listed. "It's because of your voice, and your fashion sense, and your interests, and your record..." he swung his hand in a circle above Taptap. "I feel it, alright?"
Taptap shrunk back, feeling a cold shiver rumble through his shoulders and down his back. He started to pant, then stopped himself and gritted his teeth. Underdog was right, he growled to himself. He had always liked suits and dress shirts, rocks and gemstones—and Junior was with him when his voice dropped; and when he first got put into juvenile hall. His breath hitched, screwing his eyes shut.
Underdog just looked down at him nonchalantly, almost like he could read the typhoon of thoughts going through Taptap's head. He extended a hand down, shifting his stance. Taptap only heard the gravel move and snapped his eyes open. He glanced at Underdog's hand, tracing up his arm to his face. He looked almost entirely neutral. Taptap's gaze went to his hand again, brow furrowing while he stared at it.
He stared at it for several agonizing moments. Finally, he released one hand from his gun, reaching toward the hero.
Underdog pulled him up. Taptap stumbled on his feet. A breeze ruffled his ears and brought fresh air to his nose. Still, he stood uncertainly, half hunched over. He took in a deep breath.
"Okay," he muttered. He pushed the gun into his pants pocket. "F-fine. Fine! Okay?" Taptap frowned deeply. He swallowed back the heat rising in his throat. "My name is William Clark, and maybe we grew up together, but I don't want anything to do with you!" he spat.
"That's fi—" Underdog started, with a small smile on his face and wide eyes.
Taptap threw his hands up. "And I especially don't want to join you."
Underdog's head suddenly tilted. "Join me?" he asked. Taptap's hands crumbled into themselves as the hero continued. "I don't want you to join me. All I want to do is give you what our parents left us..." he trailed off, his eyes falling from Taptap and to the ground instead. He mumbled, "...and maybe become friends, but clearly, that's not going to happen," he nodded to himself and faced the taller dog again. "Your inheritance and some closure, and that's where we can leave it."
Taptap took a step back; Underdog's eyes were suddenly so deep and liquidy it overwhelmed him. Still, he huffed. "I didn't want anything when Dad died, and I still don't want anything now," he muttered, taking another step back, almost turning to leave.
Underdog's ears went up. "What about Mom?" he asked.
Taptap froze, feeling a cold spike stab through his chest. He felt his arms stiffen and his legs root to the ground. Underdog's eyes became wide, and he straightened up. Taptap tilted his head back at him, trying to smile. "What about her?" he replied.
"Oh my God," Underdog muttered, his hands raised to cover his mouth.
Taptap heard his heart beat in his ears. "Under," he asked, "What about her?"
Underdog snapped his eyes shut and shook his head intensely before pulling his hands down and looking up at him, water filling his eyes. "She... she killed herself."
Taptap straightened, a tingling numbness making itself present on his fingers. The cold that pierced his heart frosted over his lungs, quickly moving all throughout his body. His heart skipped a beat, the pump of it nestling itself in his stomach. His eyes had gone wide, drying out in the air as the tears welled. "She what?" he asked breathlessly. "Our mom? Molly Barker, you're talking about?"
Underdog nodded wordlessly.
"She..." Taptap felt his hand rising to his head, shoulders too sore to notice he was moving it. "...why?"
"I don't know," Underdog answered, his voice so quiet Taptap could hardly hear it. "Between my powers, and Dad, and..." he trailed off.
You. Taptap knew what he would say. For a moment, his head swirled. Floating in an endless ocean of heavy guilt, hardly able to keep his muzzle up to breathe. Then, a wave of white-hot anger washed over him. He bared his teeth, furrowing his brows so hard it nearly gave him a headache. "Leave," he demanded.
Underdog struck his hands out, trying to reach for him. "Taptap, don't—"
"Leave!" he barked a little louder.
Underdog stayed put. His fingers folded into his palms, and his arms fell to his sides. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "Just... don't do anything drastic. Alright?"
Taptap hardly heard, his eyes fixed on the spot he was standing, merely waiting for his stupid boots to disappear. They finally hopped up a step, and soon, he felt a rush of air around him. Taptap looked up to find the bleak grayness of New York City buildings around him.
He had never felt more tired in his life, the exhaustion seeping into his bones.
Taptap spotted the white rails of a fire escape on the wall behind him. He padded over stiffly, still feeling the weight of a thousand pounds settle, all at once, on each of his shoulders. His clammy palms stumbled their way to the rail. He placed one foot on the lip of the border, looking down as the wind rustled his ears.
He idly wondered how the concrete would feel from so many stories up.
Taptap slammed the door shut as he returned home. He had removed his jacket somewhere along the drive, draping it across his arm. His other hand rubbed the lump the mysterious gun made in his pocket, continually ensuring he hadn't lost it. He didn't care to know how he looked—he could feel the velvet of his ears pushed the wrong way, his eyes sore from how big they had become, and his tear ducts irritated as they dried.
Taptap sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he started toward the stairs. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and never get back up. Unfortunately, he heard a pair of heavy footsteps come up beside him. He recognized them as Riff's, and turned to look at him.
"Morning," Riff said, his face so bright and earnest that Taptap found it hard to meet his gaze. He looked down to his feet. Riff was oblivious to his lack of eye contact and continued, "Sandy told me you went out this morning. Did you get anything?"
Taptap glanced up just quickly enough to see his husband's ears prick with interest. He looked back down and handed Riff his jacket. After he took it, Taptap went fishing around his pocket and pulled out the gun. He stuck his arm out all the way, gaze flickering up to find Riff looking surprised.
"Thanks for this," he said quickly, "I needed it." He hardly saw one of Riff's hands reaching slowly for it, and he started to ramble nervously. "I looked at it on the way home—I know it's Boston's. Honestly, I couldn't tell you how I got it. I didn't even know you still kept—"
Riff shoved Taptap's hand back. It made Taptap's ears prick, and he tilted his head up just enough to look at him. "That's yours, doll," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Don't worry about it."
Taptap blinked. He glanced at the gun and slowly lowered his arm. "Oh," he muttered. "Alright."
Riff tilted his head slightly as Taptap's gaze again fell to the floorboards. He reached out, clasping a solid hand on his shoulder. Taptap cringed at the contact, though finally straightened. He watched Riff's eyes narrow, scouring up and down his person. Taptap felt a flush cross his face. Finally, Riff landed on the purple bruise spreading across his jaw. His ears stood straight up, and his eyes stretched wide.
"Are you okay, Taps?" he asked.
Self-consciously, Taptap raised his hand to cover the wound. "I'm fine," he lied—the bruise being noticed made it pang, shooting through his mouth. Taptap clenched his jaw and hoped Riff wouldn't notice.
Riff frowned, making no indication either way. He pulled his hand off of his shoulder. "If you say so."
Taptap nodded, his eyes returning to his feet. The silence hummed in his ears, awkward, loud and dense. "I'm going to bed," he suddenly stated.
Riff nodded and started to turn away. "Love you," he replied.
Taptap watched him pad away, his throat dry. He rapidly descended the stairs, rushed into his room, and carefully closed the door. He stepped forward, knocking his head against the wood.
What would he tell Riff?
Taptap sighed. Feeling like his feet were being weighed down with cement, he shuffled through the hall. He placed the gun gently on Riff's nightstand and threw himself onto the bed.
He wanted to lie down forever.
Several weeks had passed since Taptap had met with Underdog. Riff had flipped the calendar. Taptap's days and nights blended together, only feeling the dull passage of time. The sorrow and guilt he felt poisoned him from the inside, making his mind feel foggy and his body weighed down.
His mind kept returning to the encounter on the rooftop. Underdog's face as he told Taptap about their mother. The stab of pain he felt that no one but the hero understood.
Taptap knew he had to do something. And he knew what that something was, as well, though the idea of seeing the hero again terrified him. It was a horrible feeling, the need to rely on his mortal enemy for anything—but Taptap wasn't sure what else to do. He needed the sickness of his guilt to be ripped out of him, and speaking to his brother was his best shot.
It was an impulse when he finally decided to try. Taptap woke up that day to stare at the analog clock on Riff's nightstand, his husband nowhere to be found. He watched the numbers click along, limbs feeling both heavier and more antsy by the second. When the final number flicked back from nine to zero, Taptap had gotten so jittery that he finally flung the covers off of himself and stood in one swift motion.
He brushed his teeth as he grabbed the nearest clothes, buttoning his suit with shaking hands. Taptap then stared at himself in the standing mirror. He started to reach for his face—wondering idly if he had always looked so exhausted—when a glimmer caught his eye.
He turned, looking down to find the gun Riff had given him. It hadn't been touched, still exactly on the nightstand where he had set it. Taptap sighed but reached for it, placing it in an inner pocket. Once it had settled, he exited the room and headed upstairs.
The dining room was quiet. Dyna and Sandy chatted quietly at the kitchen table, drinking coffee together. Sandy pricked her ears as Taptap appeared, but he averted his gaze and hurried through the doorway to the living room. There he found Riff, sprawled out on the couch and sipping on a mug. He was watching the weatherman report.
Riff's ear pricked as Taptap padded in, and he quickly set down his mug and sat up. "Hey, Taps!" he exclaimed, looking him up and down. "Dressed up, eh? Ya feeling better?"
Taptap rubbed the back of his neck and tightened his lips into an awkward smile. "I'm going out for a drive."
Riff nodded, his eyes softening. He gestured toward the television and said, "Well, great news, they say it'll be nice today."
Taptap's smile became genuine. "Thanks," he answered, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Love you."
He snickered as Riff flushed, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Love you, too," he smiled. With that, Taptap turned on his heel and hurried to the door, grabbing a ring of keys from the rack.
A cold breeze chilled him as he finally got outside, the cool, fresh air sore in his lungs. He sighed it out and took a slow breath. The handle of Riff's cadillac was colder, so Taptap quickly bundled himself inside and started the car.
He soon set off, breezing past Adams and into Biggers's heart. The sky was gray above him, the tan-and-brown buildings as dull as ever. Taptap let himself drive, nothing catching his attention. He sighed, slowing down as he neared an intersection. He wasn't sure how long he had been driving at that point and went to turn on one of his blinkers. As he reached for the lever, he glanced up at the light. The green sign above him read Madison.
Taptap couldn't help the laugh that burst out of him.
He drove along the avenue, eventually spotting a tall, dark red brick building. He parked on the side of the road and got out of his car, craning his neck to look up at it. As he counted the windows, Taptap considered if he was strong enough to climb something so tall. Then he glanced to the left.
There was a stumpier brick building, with a small flight of stairs leading up to a black glass door. Atop the doorway, the words WALLACE APARTMENTS were written.
Taptap hummed.
As he started toward the door, he glanced into the alley between the two buildings. Glinting in the cold light was a fire escape. Taptap made a beeline toward it while chuckling to himself. He paused to light a cigarette in front of it before starting to climb.
He was out of breath by the time he got up to the roof, and very much regretted the smoke he had made himself breathe. Taptap wheezed as he pulled himself up; he quickly removed his cigarette and hunched over with his hands on his knees, coughing.
Eventually, Taptap cleared his throat and caught his breath, straightening up and returning the cigarette. He looked around. With the sunrise, the gray twilight sky had turned orange, and a few wisplike pink clouds drifted on the horizon. A dark plume of smoke split the sky in two. Taptap rolled his eyes, moving to observe the building.
A bleak gray parapet surrounded the roof. Metallic and white stumps of machinery emerged from the pale ground. Tucked in the corner, Taptap spotted a concrete square with a door in it.
He sighed, slumping his shoulders.
He grumbled more as he strode to one of the building's edges. The stone barrier reached just below his hips. Taptap sighed; he removed the cigarette from his lips and grasped onto it, the cold stinging his fingers. The sight of the dingy, faraway concrete of the alley below made his head spin. He closed his eyes and lifted his head, taking a deep breath.
"Oh... w-where, oh where has my... Underdog... gone?" he swallowed thickly, the lyrics that Polly usually sang rapidly slipping his mind. "Oh where, oh where can he... be? With his... ears cut short, and his... tail cut long, oh where, oh where can he be?"
"Woahhh, the big scary roof monsters come to steal my roof!"
Taptap jumped, letting out a yip. He gripped his chest tightly and whipped around to stare at the hero behind him. He snarled, "You can't sneak up on someone on the edge of a roof!"
Underdog neared him, his hands extended and ears flat against his head. "...I realize that," he chuckled awkwardly. He then motioned with his hand to beckon Taptap closer. Taptap took two big steps away from the parapet, releasing a harsh breath before taking a drag. Underdog cleared his throat. "So, uh, what are you doing here?"
Taptap wrung his hands together, gulping. He looked down at his feet. "I just couldn't stop thinking about what you said. About..." Mom? Taptap asked himself. Even the word gave him a headache. "...Molly. I feel so—"
"Don't blame yourself," Underdog interrupted. Taptap glanced up. Underdog had one hand shoved in his pocket and one downturned, a gentle sign that told Taptap to stop.
Taptap's heart started to beat faster. How could he not? His mother had passed away, and he had no idea about it! He wanted to bark those words at his brother, but the blood pulsing in his ears was already much too loud.
"...right after?" he asked next, his voice instead becoming small.
"Oh—no, no, no," Underdog shook his head, "A couple of months after."
Taptap let out a sigh of relief. "So it's not my fault directly, then," he concluded.
"It's not your fault at all," Underdog replied, "We couldn't have convinced her otherwise."
Taptap stared at him for a moment. He stopped wringing his hands, instead starting to rub one of his arms. "You think so?"
Underdog nodded, his eyes dark.
Taptap glanced away as his words sunk in. He took a drag and bit his tongue. On some level, he understood the hero's words. He remembered the headspace of wanting to kill himself, Sweet Polly and Underdog in an explosion well—no one would have been able to convince him otherwise, either.
He sighed out a large plume of smoke. The familiar thought lathered into his guilt, gently detangling some of the knots within the mat. He straightened up as the weight subsided. Still, the bile burnt his insides. His eyes snapped back to Underdog, rapidly asking, "Did she say anything?"
For a moment, Underdog's eyes went wide. His hand slowly rose to the embroidered U on his sweater, but he soon seemed to notice and stopped. His eyes then narrowed once more, and it was his turn to glance away. "Nothing important."
Taptap's ears fell back, his heart sinking. "Oh..." He glanced down, grinding his heel on the ground. The roughness almost tickled him. His feet were antsy to move—after all, Taptap had gotten what he had wanted. Despite that, he couldn't compel himself to leave. Taptap felt his anger rise; why didn't he want to leave yet?
Before he could ponder the thought any further, he heard Underdog sigh. He pricked his ears, tilting his head up the slightest amount.
"I wanted to find you sooner," Underdog said softly, "You said you wanted to move here, so I came here. But I took too long. Now you've gone and gotten married, and changed your name, and..." he furrowed a brow, gesturing vaguely at Taptap. "...kick-started a crime syndicate."
Taptap crossed his arms, tilting his head to one side. "I don't think Riff kick-started it," he muttered.
"Well," Underdog answered, a slight chuckle in the word, "You got involved in a crime syndicate."
"It's a gang," Taptap replied, "It won't kill you to call it a gang."
Underdog's lips formed a twitchy smile. "Crime syndicate. Crime syndicate. Crime syndicate."
"Oh my God," Taptap sighed, gritting his teeth to prevent himself from smiling back. He reached up to take a drag from his cigarette, holding it between two of his fingers. He put his other hand on his hip. "You mean you didn't suspect anything when I dressed up as you? Everyone believed it! It was so easy!"
Underdog's hands exploded out of his pockets. "I very much suspected something!" One of his hands quickly returned, digging around. "I don't even see how! You're so much taller than I am!"
"And skinnier!" Taptap helpfully chimed in, excitedly raising his free hand to point. He returned the cigarette to his mouth.
Underdog frowned, "Yeah, thanks." He raised something suspiciously cigarette-like to his lips and lit it.
Taptap pricked his ears. "You smoke?" he asked.
Underdog smirked, "Pot."
"Oh," Taptap answered before the word clicked. His ears rose back up. "Oh. Finally gave up on popping pills, hm?" he sneered.
"I gave up the pills a while ago," Underdog replied with a slight laugh and a roll of his eyes. He cleared his throat as smoke started to trail from the end of his joint, "You didn't think anything of us looking so much alike?"
"I didn't care," Taptap scoffed, waving one of his hands nonchalantly. He suddenly frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't blame you for taking so long. I didn't want you to find me."
Underdog put a fist on his hip. "No, I get it. You wouldn't be able to find me, either," he said with closed eyes and a confident smile.
Taptap blew out smoke and chuckled. "No, of course not, Alexander Ruby."
Underdog's eyes shot open, and Taptap chuckled some more.
"So that is yours! What happened to Lewis?"
Underdog ran a hand through his hair. "That's Underdog's legal name. Lewis is Sh—" he suddenly paused and cleared his throat. He coughed some more, removing the joint. "...haha, wow! Strong weed, huh?"
Taptap laughed as Underdog started to cough genuinely. "How many alter egos do you have?"
"Just the two," he cleared his throat some more and resumed smoking. "That's more of a nickname."
Taptap clasped his hands together, making his eyes very big. "And you won't tell your dear baby brother?" he asked, pitching up his voice.
"Don't do that."
Taptap giggled, proud he had annoyed the hero, but did as he was told.
"And no," Underdog said when he had stopped. "I don't trust you."
"That's..." Taptap muttered, raising a finger to his lips to think. "...fair. That's fair," he concluded. "I seldom trust you either."
"Good," Underdog replied, moving to mimic him. He narrowed his eyes, scanning Taptap up and down. When his eyes returned to his face, he jumped a little. "Oh!" he exclaimed, smacking his raised hand against his forehead. He started patting his pockets. "I started this whole thing to give you Mom's part of the inheritance, and I - I don't have it on me," he muttered, then pointed back toward the roof door with his thumb, "Why don't you come downstairs and I'll grab it? You can get some of her poems while you're down there; I have all the manuscripts."
Taptap blinked. He felt his heart skip a beat. He shook his head before the shock could appear on his face. He covered it with a cocked brow and a smirk. "I can't know your name, and yet you trust me enough to be in your apartment with your girlfriend," he commented.
"Polly's not my girlfriend," Underdog answered, a light red color quickly blooming across his cheeks, "and she's not home, either. And your syndicate," he smirked, "has already been in my apartment."
"Indeed it has," Taptap boasted, standing straight up and puffing out his chest. He took his cigarette in hand and stomped it out. He glanced up in anticipation of Underdog's quip, but this time, the hero just looked tired.
Underdog sighed. Then, without warning, asked, "Do you want my number?"
Taptap's hackles rose before he could stop them. "Your phone number?" he barked, "Why the hell would I want that?"
Underdog lidded his eyes halfway, frowning deeply. "So I don't have to hear you sing again next time you want to talk."
Taptap touched his throat self-consciously. He cleared it, took in a breath, and stared at the hero. "I'm not going to be friends with you," he said firmly. He motioned between the two of them with his hand, "Not real friends. Give me as many poems as you want; I'm still going to shoot at you and rob banks."
"And I'm still going to kick your ass when you shoot at me and rob banks," Underdog replied, narrowing his eyes. Taptap narrowed his eyes back, locking onto him.
It was then, as a thick silence settled over the two of them, that Taptap realized how light he felt. He was still guilty and worried about his husband, but the pain of his brotherhood had faded so fully that he hadn't noticed. Even as his brother—his worst enemy—stared him down with a violent flame he had seldom seen in anyone else; it felt natural to feud with him, maybe even more natural than it already had been.
Underdog broke the silence, but not his gaze. "Come downstairs, Taptap."
"Yeah, alright."