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“Superfly!” Wingut exclaimed, and said mutant turned to look at his younger sister, only ten now. She had been six when she mutated, or at least mentally so. Even then, that was by human standards.
“What is it, little bug?” Superfly smiled down at her and she grinned.
“I found a book! Can you teach me how to read?” She really, really hoped he’d say yes. He had been acting distantly recently, but her older siblings all knew how to read! Okay, maybe they didn’t all know.
Okay, maybe only Superfly and Leatherhead knew. Bebop, Rocksteady, and Genghis didn’t care, and Scumbug could only speak vermin. But still! She loved learning, but mostly random facts. And she loved listening to her siblings’ stories, even making up her own. To be able to read… to be able to learn other stories. So much knowledge. So much fun!
“Okay.” Superfly nodded. “But get Scum, Gangus, Ray, and Mondo, too. Scumbug is in the middle of learning and it's far past time for your younger brothers to learn too. Ganghus already knows.” Huh. She didn’t know he knew. Wingnut got them, and Leatherhead joined them later. They looked through different books and learned new things. Ray loved reading, but he also loved writing. His handwriting wasn’t that great—for obvious reasons—but his songs were. Scum couldn’t talk in English, but loved reading. She read books to Wingnut in vermin (which they all understood), and she smiled, letting herself drift off into her older sister’s arms.
It was around a year later when Superfly went from distant to detached. It was a subtle shift, but Wingnut felt it, and thought that the others might (should) as well, but they told her that it was probably fine, and that she didn’t have to worry at all. At least, all but Mondo did. At Wingnut’s question the youngest buried himself in her chest, and started crying.
It got worse.
Where Superfly used to compliment Ray’s voice, now he told him to be quiet. That no one wanted to hear him.
Where he used to compliment Leatherhead on her art and aid her in getting her anger issues under control, he now said that she had to pay more attention to their plan instead of useless crafting, and that she needed to be better at her anger, never caring about what she had accomplished in that before.
Where he used to be proud of Scum’s knitting, now he complained that it was pointless, as if she wasn’t making them clothes all the time and was the only reason they hadn’t frozen over winter. She was the least told off though, due to her being the second youngest, only a year under him. She didn’t take his attitude as much.
Where he used to be excited for the twins’ strength and watched them spar as if he was a proud parent, now he only cared that they could fight well because it was “useful”
Where he used to think Gangus’s personality was okay and, you know, part of him, now he said it was disrespectful.
Where he used to find Mondo’s sweetness endearing, always giving him hugs and telling him he loved him back when the gecko told him, now he complained that he was too clingy.
Only humans acted this way.
Only humans were distracted by dumb emotions.
Not us.
Not mutants.
We’re far better than that.
Superfly used to listen to Wingnut explain her stories. Used to smile when she delved into the worlds and explained character nuances and relationships. Now, he told her to get her head out of the clouds. That she shouldn’t be happy with anything human.
Wingnut was eleven when he told her to eff off because she was being annoying over useless things.
She was twelve when he threatened to burn all her books if she mentioned them again.
She was thirteen when he overheard her talking to Leatherhead about Mob Psycho 100, and followed through on his threat.
She was thirteen when he sat down next to her, and told her that he was sorry, but that it had to be done. That humans would pollute her mind. That he was very affected by their recent attempt to see if humans would accept them (they did not). That what she did was dangerous, and that he loved her. That he and the others were the only ones who loved her, and that she shouldn’t ruin that.
She was thirteen when she listened to him, and believed him.
She was thirteen when she threw her heart and soul into making sure her family stayed conflict free. Making sure her family was happy. It was tiring, but she loved them, and they loved her. She didn’t want to ruin that.
She was fourteen when she found a new manga series and became obsessed with it, hiding it from all of her siblings, but desperately wishing she didn’t. It felt physically painful to keep all of her joy and love for this series inside.
When Wingnut thought it couldn’t get worse… it did. She and Mondo were criticized by their oldest brother for flapping their hands, or squealing, and their overall fidgety nature. It just ain’t right, he said, It’s human. But she couldn’t help it! It was what she did, Mondo too. She didn't want to be bored, and when things got loud she couldn’t take it. She and Mondo cried or hyperventilated when it was too loud. Fidgeting more and sometimes even having what Superfly said was a “tantrum”. Over time, they sort of got a hold on it, but it felt like hiding than anything else.
Wingnut missed her older brother. She missed the way he hugged them goodnight. The way he used to rock them to sleep. The way he told stories of what the world might be like if they were accepted—nay, if they were the majority. He used to say he loved them all, but he stopped. The warmth faded away.
Looking back, there were many red flags.
Looking back, Wingnut had doubted him for a lot longer, but hadn’t acknowledged it.
Superfly had once loved them. Once, his mission had been built on his love for them.
Then it became fueled by his hatred for humans.
Superfly was as good as dead now. Even if he was demutated, flies didn’t live that long. Wingnut was able to read her manga in peace now. She watches shows now, too. She was happy in all ways except for her grief over him.
The worst part? Wingnut felt the most at peace, the most rested, in her entire life. She just… it was as if…
Her love had been drained, even if her care had been there. Her loving nature had never changed, it had always been there. But now she felt love for her siblings more than ever before. It wasn’t just duty, it was real. They weren’t the only people they had anymore, and she got to leave if she wanted. This just made her happy she got to stay. She got to be herself. She slowly stopped hiding her fidgeting. She wore earplugs or headphones around now.
She was healing.
Even if she had lost her oldest brother, she had four new cousins and a new friend/potential brother in law. She would protect them, but most importantly, be safe with them. Be normal with them.
It took a while for her to come out of fight or flight mode. To stop worrying about her vulnerability (she had always worn her heart on her sleeve). She loved them all, new and old. She admittedly was closest with Donnie, to the point where he was more her brother than anything else (so three new cousins and one new brother—she could live with that).
She didn’t truly move on, Superfly’s death and life left impacts on her that would last for a long time, but it got better. She got better. And for the first time in a while…
She was happy.