Dinner was not a quiet event that night. It was mostly Heath's fault, truth be told. Afterwards, he decided silence at the the table was far better than an argument.

The dinner was a normal one, at the start. Nothing but whispers, mostly of Caleb. No conversation was even attempted, as none of the three wanted to break the uncomfortable lack of noise.

The constant murmurs of Caleb reminded Heath that he hadn't looked into his brother's death for a while now. Maybe he hadn't been killed at all. Maybe he'd just died as the result of accident. Either way, since no one else seemed to be looking into it, it was up to him to find out.

He then remembered Brandon had told him to say hello to his parents. Should he say anything about it though? They did hate supers, after all.

Maybe they'd forgotten who Brandon was. He certainly hoped so. He poked his food once more before he looked up, opened his mouth and spoke, albeit quietly.

"I met Brandon Jones today," Heath mumbled, hoping to be heard over the whispers before he remembered they were a figment of his imagination. He continued,"He said hello."

His mother and father looked up, wearing identical expressions of surprise. He couldn't blame them. He too had become adjusted to the cold silence at the dinner table.

"Who is that again?" his father asked, after a long pause.

"One of his friends," Heath said, choosing not to name his older brother. He was sure no one was ready for that yet. He certainly wasn't.

"Which one?" his mother asked, her voice a fraction closer to speaking tone than the other two's.

There was another long pause as Heath struggled to think of what to say to them. "He was the male one," he said, deciding it was safer to state the obvious.

His father raised an eyebrow. "I think we got that, Heath."

"I mean... He was the super," he went on, his eyes leaving his parents and instead travelling to his dinner.

He heard one of his parents put down their fork and knife. "He was which one?" his mother asked, her voice sharp and cold.

"The super," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and regretting making conversation.

"What did we say about supers?" his mother said, speaking an octave higher than normal. His father had gone totally silent but he whispered just as angrily as his mother spoke.

Heath didn't reply, opening his eyes but not daring to look up.

"You will answer me, young man," his mother snapped.

"They're freaks," he mumbled monotonously.

"Exactly," she said, her tone icy,"So why were you talking to one?"

"I don't know," he muttered.

"Why were you talking to one?" she repeatedly, with emphasis on every word.

"He was his friend!" Heath protested, looking up to meet his mother's blazing eyes,"He missed him too! He ca-"

He was cut off swiftly by her. "He could've been his boyfriend for all I care, you will never speak to him again! Do you understand?!"

"Yes," he said, recognising that he had lost this argument. He looked down again at his plate.

"Good," his mother said, and picked up her cutlery and continued eating,"I don't want you talking to filth like that. Brandon could've been the one w-who killed..." She trailed off, sniffling as she whispered 'Caleb'. Her lips didn't move, of course, but Heath had gotten used to that.

Heath excused himself from the table with haste, the guilt becoming overpowering. Why had he brought that up? Now his mother was about to cry, just because he couldn't keep his blasted mouth shut.

He lay awake, listening to his mother cry and his father comfort her until he drifted into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of his mother's tears, Caleb laughing and a leather jacket with blood on the cuff.

It took him a few days to muster the courage to speak to Brandon and Sarah again. He wanted to apologise for words they hadn't heard but part of him wondered if he should tell them at all. He could just forget what his parents had said and act as it was all normal.

"Hey," he muttered, walking up to the two, who were in a heated discussion.

They both shut up when they saw him.

"Hiya, kiddo," Brandon said, smiling brightly. Sarah just nodded in acknowledgment.

"Um, I'm just saying sorry. I guess," he said, looking down at his feet.

"About what?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. Confusion was also evident in Brandon's face.

"Well, I did tell my family that you said hello," Heath mumbled, ignoring the loud whispers of bewilderment from the both of them,"And... um... they said I was never to speak to you again, Brandon."

He looked up and Brandon didn't look angry, to his surprise. He just looked shocked. "Why?"

Heath shrugged. "Because you're, you know.... a super," he said, his voice still barely over a mumble,"And they think a super killed... him."

Brandon and Sarah's faces fell at the mention of Caleb and Brandon nodded solemnly. "I'll stay away from you then, I guess."

Heath was about to shake his head but the thought of his mother crying and her sharp words made him nod reluctantly.

"See ya," Brandon mumbled and turned at walked off. Sarah began talking angrily to him, but Heath couldn't hear a word they were saying. They whispered of anger and feeling offended... most directed towards him and his mother.

He looked down at his feet but then remembered something else and ran after the two. "W-wait," he said,"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Ask away," Sarah said, her smile looking too big, too false and too uncaring. Brandon said nothing.

"Do you two know anything about his death?" he asked, hoping they wouldn't get angry at him for bringing up a sensitive topic right after he'd told them that his parents hated them.

They both shook their heads, but to Heath's suspicious mind it looked like they were lying. But Heath pushed the overly-suspicious thoughts to the back of his head, so he could think logically.

He just nodded, afraid to speak and let his assumptions get the better of him. He murmured a word of thanks and went off to find Poppy.

Poppy proved to be harder to find than he thought. And when he did find her, he wished he'd found her someplace else. Or doing something else.

Not in the back of a corridor, mocking a student that was younger than her by a good few years.

She pushed the boy into the wall, having not noticed Heath yet. And he didn't make himself noticed for a while.

He wanted her to stop, but he said nothing to make her do so. He wanted her to walk away, but he didn't step in and encourage her to do that. He wanted her to just leave the boy alone, but he never tried to get her to do that.

He just watched. Watched and waited for something that seemed less and less likely to occur with every passing moment.

Until he found himself moving forward and grabbing her arm.

Heath had never considered himself a heroic person. Or a selfless person. That had always been Caleb. And he'd been too busy focusing on getting out of Caleb's shadow to think of things like that. However, with his older brother gone, he found a lot more responsibility heaved upon his shoulders. And one of those things was standing up for people.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

Poppy half-turned around, one hand still clutching onto the boy's shirt. "What does it look like?"

At that moment, he questioned his friendship with Poppy. She had no shame in beating up a boy younger than her?

"Something stupid. C'mon, let's go," he said, determined to make her leave.

"Why?" Poppy asked, one fist pulled back as she prepared to punch her victim again.

"Because," Heath said,"Now let's go."

"No," Poppy said bluntly,"I have no reason to go, so I won't."

"Poppy! What you're doing is wrong! You can't just beat people younger than you up whenever you want!" Heath said, snapping,"So just leave the kid alone and let's go!"

"He's a super," she replied,"You hate supers, don't you?"

"Yes, but -"

"Exactly, so let me continue. Unless you actually secretly kiss their a*ses behind everyone's back? Or maybe you are one?" Poppy interrupted, punching the boy.

He fell silent. His only attempt at being a good guy had gone catastrophically wrong. He just stared while she continued to attack the young super, afraid to say anything for fear of being told he was wrong.

She had almost beaten the boy, who looked about thirteen, fourteen to pulp before she let him go. And Heath had done nothing about it.

A better person would intervene. Anyone else would've intervened. Caleb would've intervened.

But Heath wasn't the better man. And he certainly wasn't his brother.

He might have been a super (a thought he didn't want to consider but it was stuck in his mind) but he certainly wasn't a hero.