Archive of Our Own

Matt had always believed for his powers to be the most ironic thing in the world. Seriously, he meant it — it almost seemed like the universe itself was making fun of him for the hell of it. Sure, let’s kick the guy when he’s already on the ground, why not!

Just to make everything even more ironic, his powers developed around the same time as he’d first gotten diagnosed with anxiety. Oh, and his power? Fear inducement. See? It was all so very ironic, no? Each day he battled with never-ending worries and fears and paranoia, only for his own power to be… this. The universe must’ve hated him, really.

The worst part of it, too, was how late his power developed. Not only was he riddled with anxiety that insisted on making its home right between his lungs, now his puberty was worsening the control over his power, which — surprise — was making his anxiety even worse. And since his anxiety was worsening, he had no grasp over his powers, so that made him a danger to the general public. It was the worst type of cycle that refused to end.

Because both of his brothers were better at handling their own powers, the two of them mastering them far sooner in life that Matt could’ve possibly hoped for. Nick had gotten the hang of it in about a week, with the power of sheer stubbornness and spite, mainly because he refused to get labeled as ‘dangerous’. Well, it was true that not so many people responded kindly to learning that a little child possessed literal mind control as his power. So, it was no wonder that Nick handled with little to no guidance.

Just like the older brother, Chris had also learned how to control his power rather quickly. Took him about two weeks, completely on his own, as his power was classified as Level Two, therefore not possessing too much threat to those around him — sure, sleep inducement and sleep manipulation (buy one, get two, eh?) wasn’t as powerful as mind control, but it still seemed rather dangerous.

Either way, Nick and Chris were prodigies when it came to controlling their powers, handling it with ease. And what was Matt? A fucking liability and a danger to those around him.

Back in the day, his power was called hysteria, before it got eventually scratched, as it was rather offensive to those, who wielded this power. But… they weren’t exactly wrong, were they? Once Matt discovered his powers (through an unfortunate accident of causing Justin the worst fear episode of his life), he’d done all the research on it, staying up until the dead of the night. He was also sure he read pretty much every single tips and tricks book on how to manage his power.

To no avail. Because, again, Matt was not a prodigy. He was just one big fuck-up that had never even meant to have any powers, but the universe believed it was funny to make him suffer.

Of course, none of this was helping his mental health, leaving him hide in his room for days, unable to even step outside of his room. Just the thought alone was enough to send him into a spiral, which caused everyone to get caught up in the hysteria his mind was producing.

Oh, and how Matt hated it. He’d never wanted to have a power like this — or any power, truth be told. Could he not be like Justin? With no power? Was he asking for so much when he just wanted to be completely normal? Because, once again, he wasn’t meant for great things like Nick and Chris — no, people like Matt had never meant to exist in the first place, anyway.

Matt had never wanted to disappear more.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Matt found himself mostly hidden from the world, attending school only a handful of times, far too terrified of causing too much damage on accident. The four walls of his bedroom became his safe haven, as he slowly pushed everyone away, only leaving when it was absolutely necessary.

Matt was fully aware Mary Lou and Jimmy were worried — they were both checking up on him, trying to coax him out of the safety of his room, but each time, he refused. It got to a point where he was even bringing most of his meals there, instead of eating with the rest of his family. It seemed to be easier that way; no one was going to get hurt as long as Matt stayed the fuck away.

But his wishes to keep his distance stayed unanswered, since the universe clearly hated him. It seemed like his brothers had gotten fed up with his safety measures, and all of a sudden both Nick and Chris were barging into his room.

"Get out," groaned Matt, pulling a blanket over his head. If he couldn't see them, they couldn't see him, either, right? That was how that worked, no? He'd been avoiding most of his problems like this, anyway.

"No, absolutely not," huffed Nick, before yanking the blanket away with so much force that Matt didn't even have the time to react.

"Fuck off!" spat Matt, narrowing his eyes. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Chris raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "Our problem? You're the hiding in your room the whole time," he mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, dude, you've gotta cut it out."

Matt shook his head, lowering his gaze, instead opting to look at his hands in his lap. His brothers couldn't have possibly understood — not only were they prodigies when it came to controlling their powers, they also didn't battle with any mental illness that insisted on making a home out of Matt's body and mind.

And wasn't that just so incredibly unfair? At first glance, they were completely identical, but the more one looked, the more cracks they saw all over Matt. Because, somehow, he came out as the defective triplet — the one that had absolutely nothing to offer to this world, except for uncontrollable mass hysteria. Why couldn't he have that resemblance of control? At least the tiniest bit. That was all he was asking for.

"Mom and dad are worried," murmured Nick, the softness of his voice making Matt flinch, "and so are we."

Finally, Matt forced himself to look up from his lap, blinking quickly. His eyes were starting to sting, but he refused to let the tears fall — absolutely not. He was enough of a burden, as it was, so there was no way he was going to add to it even more.

Ever since he was a kid, he'd always needed more attention, simply because of his never-ending issues. But after this whole fucking mess, he'd decided to shoulder the burden of himself alone, not wanting to bother his loved ones. Well, so much for his amazing plan, huh?

Matt sometimes wondered if some higher power had cursed him. Was he carrying some sort of debt from his past life that he needed to repent for in this one? Or was he simply that fucking unlucky?

"You don't get it," whispered Matt, the words barely leaving his tight throat.

Chris scoffed, rolling his eyes again. "Yeah, what I don't get is why do you insist on rotting in your room. It makes no sense, kid! You can't hide away forever!"

Well, technically, it was always a possibility. Matt looked into it multiple times, and their school actually offered an online plan, so… always a possibility. It also seemed like the best option here — staying locked away from the world, not being able to hurt anyone.

But, despite all the pros of the plan, Matt found himself missing his brothers these days. He'd been pushing and pushing and pushing, hoping for them to give up on him. Because, for him, this was his final act of love towards them; he was going to disappear from their lives and keep them safe. That was all he'd ever wanted.

"I hate to admit it," spoke up Nick with a sigh, "but Chris is right."

Chris snapped his head to look at Nick, narrowing his eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You can't hide forever," continued Nick, completely disregarding Chris' outburst. Carefully, he sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping enough distance in between them, before reaching his hand out, intertwining their fingers together.

Matt swallowed around the lump in his throat, squeezing Nick's hand on instinct. He'd missed the familiar warmth that seemed to always cling to both Nick and Chris equally — it was all he'd ever known. "I don't want to hurt anyone," he admitted, licking his dry lips.

"We know," said Chris, joining them on the bed, scooting closer to Matt, until their sides were pressed together, "but we miss you, y'know? It's really fucking weird when it's not the three of us all the time."

Despite the situation, Matt could feel the corners of his mouth twitching, as he desperately fought a smile. He allowed himself to lean against Chris' side, letting his eyes close. "I don't know what to do."

"That's why we're here," said Nick, his voice so sure, it made Matt open his eyes abruptly, shifting his gaze to the oldest. "I knew you'd be too busy throwing yourself a pity party, so I came up with a plan."

Matt rolled his eyes, but let out a vague hum. "And what's this plan, oh brother dearest?"

Nick grinned. "I'm actually so happy you asked," he chuckled. "Let's say you do cause a fear episode, yeah? In the worst case scenario, we'll just have Chris put you to sleep. And if Chris is not there, I'll just make you stop."

"Nick!" hissed Matt, his body going rigid. "You know your powers can't be used carelessly! Especially like this!"

Nick rolled his eyes so hard that Matt was sure they were going to get stuck that way. "Please," he dragged out. "As if they could ever catch me. And if they do? Well, aren't powers meant to be used for good and all that? I am helping the general public by keeping you… well, calm. And, to be fair, that's the worst case scenario — I don't like it any better than you do."

Matt remembered the first time Nick used his power on him — it was also the first time he'd ever had a panic attack. At the time, no one really knew what to do, and Matt was so sure he was going to die, if his rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing was anything to go by. That was when Nick stepped in, desperate and scared, and commanded Matt to calm down. It helped, sure, that was not the issue there — the issue was the ugly feeling that came in after. Matt couldn't have fought against the way his body was reacting, and he'd never felt more wrong in his life. Nick wasn't doing any better, though, and he swore to never use his power on his brothers ever again. Until now. Or, well, until it would be needed.

"I won't do it unless it's the only option we have," added Nick, raising his pinky. "I promise."

Matt stared at Nick for a long moment, before interlocking their pinkies. "Okay," he murmured. "I trust you."

Being back after so long was so incredibly weird. Matt could feel a pit growing in his stomach the moment he stepped over the threshold of the entrance of the school, his entire body tensing up.

Right away, there was a hand on his shoulder, making him look up from the floor. Chris was right next to him, offering him a small smile.

The plan seemed rather simple — Chris was going to stay by Matt's side the entire time, helping him slowly integrate back into the average society. No biggie there, as long as they ignored the fact that Matt's power could easily send everyone into mass hysteria. Yeah, totally chill.

Even though, Matt appreciated that Nick managed to come up with a plan, it was only a temporary solution. He couldn't possibly expect his brothers to watch over his every single step. Well, he couldn't really want big changes right off the bat, considering he'd spent almost three months hiding in his room.

Baby steps and all that.

But when Matt announced that he was going back to school the other day, both of his parents were ecstatic about it and, for once, Mary Lou didn't have that pinched expression on her face — Matt counted that as the biggest victory of the month.

However, being back meant that Matt was reminded of why exactly this place brought him so much anxiety in the first place. He could already feel his lungs getting squeezed by an invisible force, while the pit in his stomach grew bigger and bigger. Everything about this place was making him feel, as if his every step was being watched and judged. As if every whisper he caught was about him.

Matt squirmed, sucking in a shaky breath. No, no, none of that. No one cared enough, right?

"You're okay, Matty," murmured Chris, putting one hand in between his shoulders blades. "I'm right here, yeah? I'll just send you to sleep if needed."

Matt nodded, even as his face twisted into a grimace. He tried his hardest to relax his body as the two of them walked through the halls — Nick was with a few of his friends, but still stayed close enough, in case his power was needed. Frankly, Matt hoped it wouldn't come to that.

But, once again, he was asking himself why couldn't he be like his brothers. Why couldn't he have the same talent as the two of them? How was it possible that two of the triplets were meant to be prodigies, while Matt was seemingly doomed to be a failure?

Matt shook his head, as if to dismiss all the thoughts clouding his mind, forcing himself to stay in the moment — the last thing he needed was to send his mind spiraling. Well, perhaps that was his true power: spiraling and overthinking.

Somehow, Matt managed to survive until lunch — he wasn't sure if he could've done that without Chris right by his side. The whole time, Nick kept silently checking on him, while pretty much shielding Matt from anyone that decided to have invasive questions about his recent absence. Despite that, his body was still rigid and taking in a deep breath turned out to be the hardest task of them all.

Truth be told, Matt had been fighting the urge to hide away from everyone the entire day, as it had become a way to protect himself — and others, too. After all, he was still a liability, even when he was trying to be an average member of society once more.

Being alone and staying away was far easier, he soon realized, as they started leaving the school cafeteria. In the safety of his own room, he didn't have to suffer through the weird looks and barely contained whispers anytime he passed by.

Matt was fully aware that his power was dangerous on its own, let alone when his anxiety was added into the equation — he knew it far too well. But he was fucking trying. For the sake of his brothers and parents and friends. Even for his own sake. Because no matter how easy it was to lock himself away, there was only so much solitude he could take. And, fuck, Matt was missing so many people. Despite living in the same house as his brothers and parents, he'd never felt lonelier.

So, he was going to get through this. Step by step, with both of his brothers close by, as they kept an eye out on him, in case something would go wrong.

When they walked into a classroom, and once Matt found his favorite spot all the way in the back, he allowed himself to finally take a deep breath in. Sure, it was still just a start of everything, but it could've gone much worse, no? People liked to talk, but there was only so much time they were willing to spend on one topic, when there was going to be inevitably a new drama that would be far more interesting than his inability to control his power.

This was fine. Everything was fine. Matt was fine.

The whispers weren't even that bad — if anything, they were already getting repetitive, since it seemed like the people in their school were the most unoriginal motherfuckers on this planet. The stares were uncomfortable enough to make him squirm, but he could push through it. He just had to tune them out, no biggie there.

This was fine. Everything was fine. Matt was fine.

Who cared that they called him dangerous? Or a freak? Or unstable? Who cared they looked at him with fear and disgust? It didn't matter. It didn't. Matt didn't care — most of them didn't even know his name, let alone what his power was, as they simply guessed based on the rumors.

This was fine. Everything was fine. Matt was fine.

Matt gritted his teeth, as he picked on the skin around his nails. No, no, he refused to let these things get to him. Not a single person knew what they were even talking about — they talked shit for the sake of it. He was just the newest sensation, that was all. They would get bored soon enough, right?

This was fine. Everything was fine. Matt was fine.

The whispers were getting louder and louder, making his head spin. At that point, Nick was already telling everyone to fuck right off, but even his voice couldn't drown out the noise surrounding him. People talked and talked and talked, all of their eyes set on Matt.

Everyone was watching, looking him up and down, as if they were able to see every single scratch and crack — and maybe they could. Maybe Matt had never been that good at hiding how much of a fuck up he was. Being hidden in the middle of his two brothers, it was easy to redirect the attention from himself, since both Nick and Chis were far more interesting to talk about.

Now, though? All eyes were on him; they saw all of him. He couldn't escape them. He was trapped. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped.

Matt dug his nails into the palms of his hands, barely registering the pain. His vision was turning more and more blurry by second, his breathing picking up. Somewhere in the distance, through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Nick and Chris, both yelling at someone. Or was it someone else? Was anyone yelling at all? Were there still people in the classroom, anyway?

Fear crawled through his body, somewhere from the pit of his stomach, all the way to his limbs, sending chills down his spine. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't see.

Matt was fucking trapped by his own mind.

Someone let out a loud scream, the sound piercing through the static inside his brain. What was happening? Why were people screaming?

"Chris! Go and get Matt!" yelled Nick, his voice bordering on hysterical.

Oh. Did Matt do something? Was this his fault? Did he… he must've, no? After all, he was a liability and a fuck-up of a human being, unable to function.

"Hey, Matty," murmured Chris, his voice strained. He put a shaky hand on the back of Matt's neck, making Matt turn his head ever so slightly. Chris offered him a tight smile. "How about you take a nap, eh?"

Matt opened his mouth, as if to respond, but his eyes his started to droop and his tongue became far too heavy. He made a quiet noise in the back of his throat, clinging onto Chris' shirt.

"I got you, kid, I'm right here."

Matt let his eyes flutter shut, leaning his entire weight against Chris, as he let out a quiet sigh. The world went black and, finally, the static inside his brain subsided.

When Matt came to, there were fingers combing gently through his hair. Everything was still feeling a little blurry around the edges, all the colors a little bit dull, and trying to focus was putting a strain on his eyes. Despite that, he forced himself to stay present, as he took in the scene around him.

It took Matt a moment to recognize the room he was in — the nurse's office. Chris was sitting on the edge of a bed, playing with his hair, but his attention was focused elsewhere, and so Matt slowly followed his gaze. Nick was standing near the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. His back was turned to them, but Matt immediately noticed just how tense the eldest was, and he soon realized why — two cops were standing right in front of Nick.

Oh, this couldn't be good, huh?

"We had it under control," said Nick, dragging out each syllable, as if he'd repeated himself multiple times at that point. Just how long was Matt out for? "And, really, I don't think that you can talk to me, or my brothers without our parents present, so…" he trailed off, inspecting his nails.

"Your brother apparently caused mass hysteria, Nicolas," spoke one of the men, narrowing his eyes. "We're just trying to understand what happened."

"Actually, that's an outdated term," noted Nick, vaguely gesturing with his hand. "It's called a fear induced episode done on a mass scale. The term hysteria hasn't been used since the early 80s. Get it right, good grief."

Had it been any other situation, Matt probably would've laughed. Really, no one ought to mess with the oldest brother, unless they were prepared for the worst verbal fight of their life. And, well, it wasn't like Nick had ever lost.

"Well, we did say that we had it under control," spoke up Chris, even as he continued to comb through Matt's hair. "No one even got hurt! What's the problem, anyway?"

The man shook his head, starting to look annoyed — well, fair enough, both Nick and Chris had that effect on people. "This could've been much more serious. Powers like his must be contained. We're doing this for his own safety, too."

"No, you see," said Nick, "I believe you want to bully a kid. Like, wow, a grown ass man? And a cop at that? Yeah, go fucking figure."

Finally, Matt forced himself to sit up, hoping to shift the cops' attention from Nick — why couldn't his older brother just keep his mouth shut for five seconds? Especially in a situation like this?

"Hey, kid," murmured Chris, offering Matt a soft smile, "how're you feeling?"

Matt only shrugged vaguely in response, instead looking at one of the cops with narrowed eyes. Chris kept is hand on Matt's back, as if scared he was going to fall back to bed, soon. Well, to be fair, Matt was still feeling rather groggy, anyway, so he couldn't say he didn't appreciate it.

Finally, Nick turned to look at them, a relieved expression on his face. He hurried towards Matt, immediately putting his hands on his shoulders. "I was fucking worried," he breathed, but smiled, nonetheless. "You feeling okay? Anything hurts?"

"'m fine," mumbled Matt, clearing his throat, carefully eyeing the cops. The way they were staring at him was making his stomach twisting into tight knots.

"Don't say anything, yeah? Mom and Dad are almost here," whispered Nick, quickly ruffling Matt's hair, before turning back to the cops, as if to physically shield both Matt and Chris from them.

"Nicolas," spoke the cop, but didn't take any step closer — perhaps the fact that Nick possessed one of the most dangerous powers was enough to stop him, even though his brother was just a teenager. "We want to help."

"You really should work on your lying skills," huffed Nick, sounding unimpressed with the whole ordeal. "This is getting boring."

Before the cop could reply, the door of the nurse's office slammed opened, and both of their parents walked in. Mary Lou immediately hurried to Matt, cupping his cheeks in her hands, whispering reassurance to him. On the other hand, Jimmy stood by Nick, crossing his arms over his chest — this allowed Nick to finally relax, his shoulder slumping ever so slightly.

The following conversation seemed blurry, as both Jimmy and Mary Lou talked to the cops. The entire time, Chris kept holding Matt's hand, murmuring something in his ear, but Matt could barely hear him through the static inside his brain, as the realization of what had happened downed on him.

Matt had caused yet another fear episode, this time dragging God knows how many people into it — the cops spoke vaguely when that particular topic was brought up, but Matt was aware just how destructive his power was. The radius was roughly around one hundred and fifty feet, maybe a bit more, depending all on what his mental state was. Which… not the greatest, he knew that much.

"Your son needs to do a specialized therapy," said one of the cops, the words cutting through the static. "The NAHC recommends it for cases like Matthew's. It's for his own good."

"Cases? You're talking about him like he's just… some test subject!" spat Mary Lou, her breathing ragged. "He's just a kid!"

"You have to understand that his mental health makes him dangerous to people around him," said the man, narrowing his eyes at Matt. Immediately, Chris wrapped one arm around him, as if to hide him away from the world.

Good. Matt had never wanted to disappear more.

"Based on his records," continued the man, "he's been evaluated as a level five, which is highly unusual for a child his age. If he doesn't undergo the specialized therapy and has another outburst…"

"Then what?" asked Jimmy, his voice clipped. "What's gonna happen to our son?"

"The NAHC might take him into custody and he'll undergo it with or without your permision."

Matt was so fucking close to throwing up. Or, maybe, to having another panic attack — he had yet to decide on that one. They actually thought about taking him away, because of how fucking dangerous he was. Fuck, he should've stayed inside his room and rot in there until his inevitable death. Perhaps, even take it into his own hands, making it easier for everyone.

"Matty," whispered Chris, leaning his forehead against Matt's temple, "deep breaths. You're about to start panicking again."

Everything about this was so fucking ironic. Why was the boy with anxiety given a power that induced fear in others? It seemed like the universe had the most twisted sense of humor there was — he didn't know how else to explain any of this.

Despite his rapid thoughts, Matt forced himself to take in a deep breath, his lungs burning. Chris breathed right with him, walking him through one of his breathing exercises, while their parents continued arguing with the cops, while Nick still acted like a shield, in case anything went wrong — Matt wondered if his older brother was willing to use his power in case something went terribly wrong.

Matt wasn't sure if he was even worth it.

"I'll do it," croaked Matt, his voice tight. All the voices suddenly stopped and everyone in the room turned to him. "I'll do the—the therapy thing. And the training, if I have to."

"Kid!" hissed Nick, turning around to face Matt with wide eyes.

"Just don't take me away," added Matt, biting hard on his lower lip.

His answer seemed to satisfied the cops. The first appointment would've been set up shortly.

Name Matthew Bernard Sturniolo Identification Number #03412810 Date of Birth 1 August 2003 Power Fear Inducement Level 5 Status ACTIVE

The therapy office was quite cozy, if Matt was being honest. The walls were painted yellow with chaotic, orange swirls around multiple diplomas and awards. The small couch that he was sitting on was brown, the armrests worn out after numerous people touching it constantly. On the opposite side of a small coffee table was an armchair, matching the couch.

Very cozy vibes all around, but Matt still couldn't force himself to fully relax.

"Hello, Matthew," said his therapist, walking into the office. His new therapist was a woman in her early sixties, her dark hair showing a few white strands. She had her make-up done — rather dramatic, but it wasn't like Matt knew much about it, anyway.

"Matt is fine," mumbled Matt, his shoulders hunching inward. He always hated the first session; it always felt so fucking awkward. What was he meant to say, anyway? Oh, yeah, I'm fucked in the head, by the way.

The woman hummed, as she took a seat on the armchair, crossing one leg over the other. Unlike his other therapists, she didn't carry a notebook, or any papers with her. Huh, strange. "My name is Winona, lovely meeting you."

Matt narrowed his eyes. "Is this where you're gonna ask me what's wrong with me?"

Winona smiled, tilting her head to the side. "No, I've already seen your file," she replied, her tone light. "I know what you've been diagnosed with and why you chose the specialized therapy. Well, I know how the NAHC works, so saying that you chose this is a bit of a stretch, no?"

Matt only nodded, but he allowed his body to relax.

"Usually," she continued, tapping her fingers against the armrest, "I'm used to younger clients. Those have yet to understand what's wrong with them, as you have put it," she chuckled. "But you know exactly what's happening with you, no?"

"Well, yeah," huffed Matt, not quite meeting Winona's gaze. "I have anxiety. Panic attacks. Some symptoms of depression. Some mild agoraphobia, too."

Winona hummed in acknowledgement. "You're very clinical about it. Are you detaching from it?"

Matt shrugged, rather helplessly. "Maybe? It's, well… if I think about it too hard, my thoughts get jumbled."

"And what happens when your thoughts get jumbled?" she asked, her voice still carrying the same light tone.

For a moment, Matt hesitated. This seemed like a trap — he'd gotten a similar question before, whenever a therapist was trying to see if Matt was an active risk to himself, or anyone around. Despite that, he'd promised his parents he was going to try his hardest to get better.

Matt licked his dry lips, swallowing around nothing. "Sometimes, I want to disappear."

Despite the confession, Winona's expression stayed completely neutral. "Do you wish to die, Matt?"

"I don't think so," replied Matt, a little unsure of his own words. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. "I just want to be gone for a few hours, without anyone finding me. And then just… come back, I guess."

"Is there anything stopping you from disappearing?" asked Winona, tilting her head to the side. "Or anyone?"

"My brothers. My parents," he answered, picking on the skin around his nails. "I, ah, I feel like my brothers wouldn't let me disappear, ever. When I kinda locked myself in my room for almost two months, they were the ones to convince me to go back to school."

"Why don't you tell me a bit more about your brothers, hm? How does that sound?" mused Winona with a soft smile.

And so Matt did exactly that. It'd always been easier to talk about his brothers than about himself — plus, he did like sharing little bits about two of the most important people in his life. Just silly, little things, some of them dating all the way back to when they were just stupid kids.

"You see, Matt," spoke up Winona, once he was done talking. He was feeling a bit more comfortable now, despite the situation he was in. "I don't feel like your anxiety is necessarily the problem here. Sure, it's not ideal, but I did have patients with anxiety before."

Matt frowned. "Then, what's wrong with me?"

"You started putting pressure on yourself by comparing yourself to Nick and Chris," replied Winona, leaning her cheek against the palm of her hand. "You've seen both of your brothers being prodigies — as you've called them — which, in your head, created a gap. You've convinced yourself that you could never be as good as they are, simply because you weren't born with a natural talent."

"Well, isn't talent needed for these things?" argued Matt, biting on the inside of his cheek.

"Not necessarily," said Winona, waving her hand vaguely. "Some of the heroes, even the ones in the Top Ten, had a hard time controlling their powers at first. So, no, I don't think a talent is needed. Maybe… hm, perhaps instinct is a better thing to call it. A person is born with a talent, sure, but instincts can be polished. And I feel like your clinical nature over your mental health can help a lot."

Matt opened and closed his mouth, as if to say something, before simply nodding.

Then, Winona looked at the clock on the wall with a soft smile. "Seems like our time is up for today. How do you feel?"

Matt allowed himself to think about it properly. Usually, whenever that sort of question was asked, he responded in the most neutral way possible, just to get the therapist off his back. This time, though…

"Lighter," he replied, as he stood up.

"Happy to hear that," she replied, waving her fingers. "See you next week."

Once Matt got back, after Mary Lou gave him a ride home, he was immediately met with Chris, asking far too many questions about his first therapy session. On the other hand, Nick stood near by with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I didn't even put my jacket away, kid," sighed Matt, shaking his head, but smiled, nonetheless. Mary Lou gently scolded Chris, even as she looked far too fond. When Matt managed to put his jacket away, he was getting ushered into his room by Chris, Nick following closely behind.

"So? How was it?" asked Chris, lying down on Matt's bed, as if he owned the place. Oh, this kid…

"It definitely went better than I thought. My therapist is… well, much different than I expected," replied Matt, sitting cross-legged next to Chris.

Chris hummed. "Good different?"

"Definitely good different."

Nick sighed, as he sat by the end of the bed, pulling one knee to his chest. "I still don't like this," he mumbled. "I mean… it's not the worst idea, especially if it's gonna help you, but you were forced into it. If you hadn't agreed, they would've taken you away. How fucked up is that?" he spat, shaking his head.

Matt shifted in his spot on the bed, biting on his lower lip, but didn't respond. He knew just how furious Nick was with the whole ordeal — far more than all of them combined. Perhaps, it had to with Nick constantly feeling like he was responsible for Matt and Chris.

"Is this how our world operates?" continued Nick through gritted teeth. "We threaten people into doing what we want from them? Because that is exactly what fucking happened there — you were threatened. No, actually, we all were."

"Nick…" sighed Matt, rubbing his eye. "It's done, okay? I'm doing this, so can you, please, just let it be?"

"No! I can't!" exclaimed Nick, rolling his eyes. "Because I hate the fact that my brother was getting threatened by the NAHC itself! I hate it!"

"But what can we do?" asked Chris, his hand automatically finding Matt's on instinct.

Nick stayed quiet for a moment, not quite meeting their eyes, as he worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Well…" he trailed off, licking the corner of his lips. "Taking the matters into our own hands is always an option, no?"

"You want to enter the Hero Program?" asked Chris, tilting his head to the side, his eyebrows knitting together.

"And be under the NAHC? The same organization causing me all this fucking headache? Yeah, as fucking if," huffed Nick, rolling his eyes. "No, I mean…"

Matt's eyes widened, as he let out a quiet gasp. "Nick, you can't be serious," he hissed, shaking his head.

"What? Wait, what's happening?" asked Chris, looking in between Matt and Nick, his frown deepening further.

Matt sighed, dragging his hands across his face. "What Nick is saying," he began, his voice tight, "is that we should become vigilantes."

Chris opened and closed his mouth a few times, before letting out a quiet hum, narrowing his eyes — this might've been the very first time the youngest had absolutely nothing to say. Shocking, truly.

Vigilantes were a… delicate topic, if Matt were to put it lightly. They existed in a gray area, outside what the law dictated — at least, that was how they were seen within the working class. In the eyes of the NAHC, they were seen as 'one step closer towards being Villains'. And, well, both sides were correct. Vigilantes usually looked over places where Heroes were never sent, to all the neighborhoods that seemed as unprofitable and barely had any founding altogether. On the other hand, a lot of them chose the path of villainy, causing mass destruction with every step.

So, yes. A delicate topic for sure. But for Nick to suggest this…

"I mean," spoke up Chris after a beat of silence, finally sitting up, "what can the NAHC offer, you know?"

"Stability? Regular pay-check? Not getting arrested?" replied Matt, raising both of his eyebrows.

Nick sighed, "The only difference between a Hero and a Vigilante is if the Hero Committee deems them as worthy," he said, his voice quiet. "But, at the end of the day, isn't the whole Hero Committee just a popularity contest? Most of the Heroes rely on the public opinion to climb the ranks, anyway. They do all these good deeds just to get a better rating," he added, his face twisting into a grimace.

"So—" Matt licked his dry lips "—you want to become a Vigilante to what? Change the system? Wouldn't it be easier to change the system from the inside?"

"I don't feel like siding with the people that threatened to take my brother away," sneered Nick, before heaving another sigh. "I do not have the patience to deconstruct a system that has been put into the place for longer than we've been even alive."

Matt bit his lower lip, nodding slowly, the movement almost reluctant. Even though, he hated to admit it, Nick was making a lot of sense.

"Do we destroy it, then?" asked Chris, his tone unreadable, as he squeezed Matt's hand tighter.

Nick hummed. "We should. We could," he replied, tilting his head from side to side, as if pondering over the idea.

Matt pulled one knee to his chest, idly playing with Chris' fingers, just to give himself something to occupy his mind with. "I just…" he trailed off with a sigh. "I don't want you to get in trouble, just because I'm unstable."

"Well, you're not the first, or the last done who has to go through something like this, no?" mused Chris, shifting his gaze to Matt, his eyes intense. "You're one of many. And who even knows how many people had been forcefully taken away?"

Matt swallowed around the lump in his throat. "So, we're Vigilantes, now?" he asked. "Just like that?"

"Oh, we need some cool costumes! And cool names!" exclaimed Chris, barely managing to sit still, the intensity in his eyes getting replaced with a barely contained excitement.

Nick let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head fondly. "Leave that to me. Though, I believe that Matt's name is rather obvious, no?"

Matt huffed, raising one eyebrow. "Is it, now?"

"Very much so," replied Nick with that knowing look on his face — oh, Matt did not like that.