Tell Me Why I’m Forced (to live in this skin)

by OverdoneJoke

Summary:

Lucky is exactly the word that Omni-Man uses to describe Mark’s identity as a Viltrumite. Lucky is the word Nolan uses to convey the hits he lands against his father, cold and calculated. Lucky is something Mark Grayson would never begin to imagine calling himself.
__
aka the chronicles of mark gayson and his incredibly tragic romance with one william clockwell. renamed to fit the OVERALL NARRATIVE of the series that I am definitely not making up as I go

Notes:

Did I write a fifteen-thousand-word story about a character's alternative self who gets one three-word line? You bet your sweet behind I did!
If I wrote this right, you'll cry yourself to sleep. Please let me know if I did my job.

Mark doesn’t have his powers yet, and he’s almost nine years old. Even with his sheltered upbringing, he seems to enjoy being the center of attention, smiling wide and throwing himself at the center of rooms. It’s an admirable quality for a leader, if Nolan can get him to discipline it. But instead, he is here, watching his son play this game. The clock on his infiltration ticks away in his mind, driving him to insanity. 

The air was filled with raucous cheers at the crack of the bat, little legs carrying themselves around the bases at what felt like breakneck speed, the wind rushing through Mark’s hair as the determined glint in his eyes hardened with each step. 

“There you go, Mark! Run all the way to home!” Debbie calls to her son, the widest grin Nolan has ever seen on her face. 

This is what life is about. Our children.  Nolan felt the tendons of his wrists tighten, the beating of his heart strain. His life, compared to these people. These children, with their little game, and their parents, cheering them on? He had first drawn blood when their civilization’s language wasn’t written. His first kill had splattered against his cool skin on the surface of Viltrum thousands of years before his wife was ever born. Mark rounded the third base, his lungs gasping for breath and his legs aching, the fielder on the other team running for all his worth to get the ball back to home base. He glanced over for a brief moment, and saw his mother’s elation, her joy and pride. And next to her, as sweat beaded down Mark’s forehead, he was blind to the fury in his father’s eyes.

His father’s gaze ripped him to pieces, so infinite that he couldn’t begin to grasp its depths. Nolan stared at his son with burning envy, with jealousy, and confusion. Nolan could not understand how this game meant so much, how his approval could hang the stars of Mark’s world. If Mark had any chance to inherit this world, to inherit his legacy as a Viltrumite, he could not play games. He should dominate to the point where this game was trivial. And yet Mark ran, and Nolan couldn’t understand why.

Debbie cheered for her son as he slid to homebase, gravel and dirt kicked up around his feet. The ball slammed into the catcher’s hand a fraction of a second after Mark made contact. His team exploded into celebration, and Mark would do nothing but cheer and smile for his team, for his accomplishment. Despite the fact that it means nothing, Mark is beaming like he has won the stars. And Nolan wanted to cheer for his son. t was a disturbing realization, like bile rising in the back of this throat. He couldn’t do it. Mark needed real strength to even hold a candle of worth to his mission. This game was nothing. He can’t cheer for his son. Nolan’s infiltration was everything. Mark smiled at his coach, and Nolan wanted to shatter the moon into pieces for him. It can’t happen. 

Mark turns to him. finally, gallivanting over to his mom and dad from the bleachers. His footsteps are heavy, and his breath comes out ragged from exhaustion as he speaks. Nevertheless, a blinding grin never leaves his face, his gapped teeth wholly smiling. "Dad! Dad, did you see? A home run!” I hit a home run in the final quarter!” Mark jumped, staring hopefully into his father’s eyes. He wanted approval, acknowledgment, from the strongest man on Earth. Debbie looks to him expectantly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Debbie doesn’t know how many people he’s turned inside out, or how many skulls he’s crushed beneath his boots. And neither does Mark, this powerless child playing a frivolous game created by a primitive society. His hand tightens underneath Debbie’s, and she draws back with a frown. 

Mark’s shoulders sag in confusion, big doe eyes looking up to his father pleadingly. “…Dad?”  He practically begs for praise, for acknowledging. Viltrumites his age have seen and faced death countless times. On his planet, Mark’s opponents would be in pieces. 

Nolan wants his son to live. “That was pathetic.” Nolan speaks.

Mark frowns, his smile concealed. Debbie gawks at him, angry. “Nolan! What—“ 

Nolan cuts his wife off, folding his powerful arms over his chest. “Mark, son, listen to me.” Nolan takes his son’s shoulder in his huge palmed hand. Mark shudders under the touch, afraid. “You are the son of the strongest man alive on Earth. You have to be better.” 

Mark’s bottom lip trembles as if he’s about to cry. He would be torn to pieces in seconds on Viltrum, his head torn from his body like a twig snapped off a tree. 

“Nolan, what the hell?” Debbie leans over to her son, consoling him. “ Honey, Mark, your father’s very proud of you.” 

“I’m not.” Nolan states plainly, barked out before he could regret it. Mark’s eyes grew wide with shock and betrayal, his little hands trembling around his sides. 

“Why, Dad? I hit a home run, I did good!” Mark sobs, confusion etched on his young complexion. “I got us all a point and everything, that’s the point of the game! We won!” 

“You do nothing but waste time on these games, Mark. They are…trivial. Pointless excuses for wasting time.” Nolan grits his teeth. The look on Debbie’s face is abhorrent after his next words.“Do you want to be a superhero, Mark? Or do you want to die because you didn’t have what it takes?” Nolan barks. Debbie, horrified, steps between them, as Mark begins to tremble. 

“I don’t want to die, Dad!” He bawls, whimpering. Other adults are staring, now, at the father who made his own son cry after winning his team the game. Nolan knows they are insects, their society equivalent to a housefly. He bears them no mind, for he remembers that soon, their opinions of him will not matter. 

“Nolan, what the fuck has gotten into you? What you’re saying to Mark is just..cruel. It’s like I don’t even know you right now!” Debbie’s fury shines in her eyes. Nolan takes a deep breath, and sighs. He gazes down to her, stoic and cold. 

“Debbie. Get out of the way.” He’s not asking, and she realizes it, eyebrows drawing together in horror.

“Who are you right now?!” She cries, everyone staring. Nolan, at his limit, groans in frustration at the sight of other adults coming to de-escalate. 

“Hey, man, get your hands off her!” Another man calls to him. Nolan sighs, and backs down, hands at his sides. Debbie states in shock, Mark’s trembling body curled up against her leg. 

“When we get home, Mark…we need to talk.” Nolan says, words that Mark will never forget. Their family staggers as they walk out of the stadium, every eye drawn to them like an exhibit. The car ride home is silent and so is Mark, aside from the occasional cry he can’t contain. His real training starts now. Nolan has waited far too long. Debbie kicks Nolan out of her house. She tries to stop him from taking Mark. but she can’t do anything, really. She pleads and screams as the pair fly away, but she can’t stop them. 

Mark stops playing baseball.

—-

“I can’t play on the team anymore, William.” Mark sniffles. “My dad said so.”

The other boy gasps, “What?? But you love baseball! Get your mom to smack some sense into him.”  

Mark shakes his head, “My parents…they’re fighting. It’s not good, William.” Mark trembles, and William winces.

William takes him by the hand, sauntering in the direction of his house. “My mom made ice cream sandwiches. It sounds like you need one.” Mark sniffles and is led along by William. They eat ice cream sandwiches, watch movies that his mom won’t let him see, and play outside with William’s dog. Mark forgets, for a brief moment. Until his mom picks him up and his dad is, for once, in the car next to her They both look so tired. 

“Son, your mother is fighting me in court for your custody.” His dad says. Mark spends the drive staring at the streetlights, wishing he could bend them in half with his bare hands.

—

A few weeks later, at third grade recess, William comes to check up on him, as he does every day. William Clockwell and he first met in preschool, with Mark circling around the other boy ever since. The other boys would tease William for the way he talked, or the subtle way he’d walk with a little pep. Mark found those things endearing and always led him away from the bullies with a joke and a smile. Mark doesn’t make a lot of jokes, lately. He’s withdrawn, and quiet. William knows his parents separated, of course, but…it’s eerie for Mark to be so lifeless. Mark feels like a piece of him has been violently ripped out of place.

His dad “trains” him every day after school. He tutors him, as well, says that his academics will teach him value and critical thinking. The tutoring is boring, but it’s not so bad. He gets to live with Mom every other week, so he gets a break then. But never from the training. At first, Nolan made him run a mile in six minutes. When he couldn’t do it, Nolan made him do it again. 

And again.

Mark ran eight miles straight on his first day of training before he fainted. When he woke up, his dad was standing over him with a bottle of water, and he only said one thing. “Do it again.” By the third week, Mark’s bones scream and ache with every step into school: His mind is so clouded with gif from memorizing the puzzles and the math formulas. His muscles feel like they’ve been torn to shreds from all the things his father makes him lift, and he doesn’t even have powers. His dad tells him that he might never get them, and to pray that isn’t the case. Mark doesn’t ask why he needs to pray anymore. He figured it out after Debbie slapped Nolan and screamed at him one night. That was the last time his parents were in the same room together. The divorce is going quickly, thanks to Nolan’s status, not that Mark understands any of the politics yet. Nolan tries, but he can’t wrap his head around it yet. He gets extra miles when he doesn’t understand, so he learns quicker these days.

William sits across from him at lunchtime and sneaks him notes in class. William is the only other kid who talks to him anymore, after he stopped going to baseball practice. William stopped going too and came over to Mark’s house instead. But only when he was at his mom’s. His dad knew William, but there was always disdain and disinterest in his tone, like he thought William to be a waste of his time. "Remember why we’re here, Mark.” His dad always says. William gives Mark his extra apple and tells him he needs to stop looking like a sad puppy. Mark smiles for the first time in weeks. 

—

“Mr. Grayson, and, uh…Debbie, as you prefer, we’re…worried about Mark.” The teacher glanced between him and his ex-wife nervously, sending the tension between them. 

Debbie scowled at her former husband, “We’ve separated within recent months. Mark is torn between us at the moment, but we’re doing everything we can to help me adjust.” She practically snarls at him. “At least, I am.”

Nolan rolled his eyes. “Please, Debbie. I’m preparing Mark for his future.” 

The principal coughs, clearing his throat. “Be that as it may…Mark is usually a very involved child socially. He frequently would get into scraps with other students with sarcastic remarks, he would write belligerent messages on the whiteboard, disrupt lessons with jokes…now, he sits there all day and doesn’t say a word.”

Nolan scoffs, “So my son is behaving himself, and now you’re upset that he isn’t being a problem anymore?” 

“Mr. Grayson, Mark is not acting like himself. He’s a child, and yes, discipline is great, but this isn’t the same thing. When a child begins to behave like a ghost of what they usually are like? It’s troubling. And forgive me for my blunt words, but Mark’s teacher believes that he’s miserable. We couldn’t in good conscience let him stay that way without contacting you.” Debbie holds her hand up to her mouth, choking back a sob. Nolan leers at the principal, hand down on the desk.

“Let’s get one thing clear right now. You do not know my family, or my son. You do not know what’s best for him, and your assessment couldn’t be further from the truth. My son's priorities have finally reordered, and he is thriving.” Nolan squeezes his hand at the edge of  the principal’s desk, making the man shoot back, alarmed. “So, since you’ve shown your hand of inadequacy, I’m going to be pulling Mark from school, and hiring a full-time private tutor.”

Debbie stands up, enraged. “The hell you are, Nolan! Mark needs friends, and socializing. He needs to be a normal kid, Christ! I won’t let you ruin our son’s life!” 

The principal shakes his head, “I think it would be best if the two of you left to discuss this on your own.” Nolan notices his hands trembling under the desk. Coward.  Once they’re outside, Nolan watches the human children on the other side of the recess fence, playing and screaming excitedly. He sees Mark sitting on the asphalt, drawing with chalk next to his friend William. There’s a gentle smile on his lips as the other boy chatters away. Nolan hates it. 

“I’m going to win full custody in court, Nolan,” Debbie warns him, her eyebrows taut.

Nolan turns to her, frowning. “Debbie, when our son gets his powers, he will live for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. He will watch you die hundreds of years before he gets his first grey hair. You are insignificant in his full life. He needs me. You must know that…you’re a smart girl, most of the time. It’s why I liked you so much.” 

Debbie’s lip trembles, and she’s at a loss for words. Her anger at him for his audacity, her anger at him for robbing Mark of his childhood, and her anger at him for betraying the beautiful life they built together flare through her like high voltage. In the end, all she can ask is one thing. “…And what if he’s just a normal human boy?” 

Nolan snaps to her, infuriated. He slams his heel into the concrete, cracking it underneath his feet. “He won’t be.”  The next week, Nolan hires a private tutor from a company recommended by the GDA. Tools, but they take superhero training seriously. Debbie tries to win full custody, but Cecil’s people pull some strings. They know that they need him on their side. The split custody remains, and every day after school, Mark trains. When Mark is meant to enter middle school, he breaks the arm of one of his martial arts instructors by just grazing him. Nolan is so relieved. Debbie doesn’t know, and she won’t, promises Mark. 

Not if he wants to keep seeing her. 

__

“You’ve been really different lately, dude,” William says, watching the way Mark grasps tightly onto the Seance Dog comic book. “Like…almost as different as when your parents separated.”

Mark gently sets the comic on his lap, sighing. “…Dad’s been making me train more, lately. He says if I want to be an…athlete, I need to step it up even more.” 

William snorts, “Yeah, a great way to turn your son into a star athlete is by isolating him away from all his hobbies and working him into the ground. I keep telling you, you gotta get your mom to talk to someone. It can’t be legal.” Williams eyes his bruised knees, concerned. “Your dad’s literally wearing you to the bone.” 

Mark steels, tightening his grip on the comic. “I can’t do anything about it. It’s what my Dad says I need. He says I need to be strong.” Mark feels his eyes begin to water. William grabs his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. Mark’s heart begins to beat faster, the warm sensation of another body against his foreign and completely intoxicating. He could stay like this forever. 

“You are strong, Mark Grayson. Stronger than anybody I know.” 

“I don’t know who I am, anymore, William,” the twelve year old sobs into his friend’s shirt. 

“I’ll always be here to remind you, buddy.” William is surprisingly wise for his age. Mark lays with his head in William’s chest for hours, until he knows he’ll be punished for his lateness. When Mark gets home that day, there’s a fitted costume on his bed. It’s completely black, covering his identity wholly. Within a week, Nolan has him out on the streets, chasing bank robbers with his infantile flying skills and lifting entire trees out of the ground. Nobody knows who he is, and Nolan is careful that they’re never seen together. If Mark gets into a fight, Nolan never helps him. He learns by blood, spilled across his knuckles, pouring from his nose. 

Mark is built far sturdier than anyone else their age. Multiple school districts have reached out to his father to get him placed on their athletic teams, but his father refuses every time. William says he’s going to attract all the ladies with his killer muscles, but Mark finds that he has no interest. His father tells him that he can be curious, but not to waste his time with frivolous human experiences. Mark wonders what William must be feeling.

—

It happens by accident, one day. He’s exhausted after training, and his brain is foggy. He walks into his mom’s house and floats over to the sink, to wash the blood from his bruised and battered knuckles. Debbie drops his plated dinner, clattering to the floor in pieces. Mark whirls to face the horrible look in her eyes .

“You have—oh God.” Debbie looks like she’s going to throw up. “How long? How long, Mark?”

Mark lowers himself to the ground, staring into the floor where the broken plate lay scattered. “Since I was twelve.” 

“Twelve. Jesus Christ, two years?” Debbie begins to cry, betrayed and grieving for Mark. “And he’s been making you use them.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

“Yes, mom. He has.” Mark says in his signature quiet and somber drawl. He’s been soft spoken for years now, but every time it still feels like a facsimile of his former self, as if he’s a puppet on strings. 

Debbie paces her kitchen, panic etched over every inch of her face. “No, God, how could you keep this from me for so long? Mark, how could you?” 

Mark clenches his fists together, teeth grinding. “I had no choice, mom.” 

“You always have a choice, Mark! You have to fight his control over you!” Debbie cries back, and for the first time in years, Mark feels something in him rumble. Something deep and primal in his gut churns, and he lets out a scream, flying across the room, grappling his mother by the arm. 

“You BOTH did this to me!” He screams into her terrified face, her pale complexion void of anything but pure fear. Mark returns to himself, and stumbles back against the counter, completely horrified with himself. His mother stands completely still, watching him crumble to the floor and sob. 

She takes a tentative step forward, reaching for him. Mark sees this, and Mark is desperate to reach for her. He wants so badly to hold her and be told everything will be okay. “Mark…I love you so much, honey.” Debbie whispers, etching closer. Whatever she was supposed to say, that wasn’t it. Mark pounds against the countertop, shattering it into pieces. He screams, and cries, and begs, tears and snot and sweat dripping down him in a disgusted display of pure humanity. His father would be ashamed. He can’t look at his mother, he can’t see the heartbroken look in her eyes, the guilt she now is burdened with from his blame. He knows she did everything she could. But you can’t stop what is meant to be. And Viltrum is meant to be.

Mark slams his feet into the ground, propelling himself through his mother’s roof at breakneck speed. He doesn’t stop until he’s on the moon, and he stays there for an entire week, pummeling space rocks into dust. His father finds him on the third day, shaking his head. But he doesn’t say anything, and hovers back to their reclusive home in the woods. Mark doesn’t stay at his mother’s house again after that. She shows up every single day for three months, for hours, calling his name, leaving him notes, and sobbing about how much she loves him. Eventually the neighbors get her barred from their new neighborhood, and they assume Debbie is a strung out addict who had to be separated from her son. 

William comes by most days, when he’s done with school. He recounts the social hierarchy of high school to Mark, and his aforementioned place at the bottom. William doesn’t know it, but Mark pretends that they both walk home together after a normal day at school, where their parents picked them up and drove them home. He asks about Debbie after the third week, honestly showing remarkable restraint. Mark quivers, and he breaks. He tells William about his real identity. William is shocked, but elated. The first thing he demands is that they go flying, practically jumping into Mark’s arms. Mark finds himself unable to do anything but oblige his request, taking William for a brilliant joyride through the city. The wind cuts through his dirty blonde hair beautifully, Mark thinks William doesn’t ask about his mom anymore, but when she comes by, he holds Mark as he trembles in his arms. Omni-Man watches them from afar. Mark feels his eyes melting into the back of his skull wherever he goes. But at least William is still here.

__

Mark has known about Viltrum since he got his powers. To finally understand the severity of his training, and his consequences for failure, had nearly broken him all over again. His father had held his back for the first time in years that day, soothing him, telling him that he worked hard enough to earn his place as a Viltrumite. Mark wanted to tear him in half with his bare hands.

“If you fail, son, they’d target more than just you. They’d take it out on everyone you love, everyone who raised you to be so weak.” Omni-Man patted his back gently, and Mark wanted to see his dad’s head pop like a balloon. Mark doesn’t want them to kill his mom. To kill William. But he hopes to whatever God above that they still kill his dad. He knows that the hardened steel he punches through with ease now is far more durable than the average person. Omni-Man never tells him when he plans to take over the Earth, exactly, but Mark knows he is powerless to stop it, unless he wants them to kill everyone he loves. And while his love of others is bruised, it is still one of the few things his father hasn’t taken away. His father has dominated every facet of his life, taken away his mother, his personality, and his sense of self. All he really has left is William, and sometimes, when William comes over, Omni-Man puts his shoulder on William, his cold steely gaze communicating clear warning of harm to Mark.

So he punches away at the steel, at the rocks. He dives to the bottom of the ocean, and he races around the solar system like it’s a walk to the park. And when he turns sixteen, he finally gets his own costume, a birthday present from an uneasy acquaintance of his father. Art’s posture is awkward and uncomfortable, the smile on his face forced, but Mark has to admit that he likes the suit. It’s a beautiful eye-catching yellow and blue, with sleek black pants complimented by a yellow mask with round protective goggles. He wears it and flies above the city, feeling a sliver of hope for his future. That’s also the first day that Omni-Man begins to hit him back. Flung into the ground, gasping for air in the husked crater of what was once a tree, blood swims in Mark’s ears and rushes down his nose. His father looms overhead, pleased, a line of red dripping from his own nose.

“If we keep this training up, you’ll practically be invincible, son.” 

He hates the name. But he gets stuck with it anyway.

—

William sees the news on the day of his debut, fighting alongside his father in the streets against villains his father typically would leave for lower heroes. But they make for good publicity for Invincible, and are a low stakes environment to test his strength. Provided he controls himself. 

Mark could easily reach into their mouths and tear out their trachea with his bare hands. He could rip their arms from their torsos and swing them like bats to send their heads careening into the streetlights. Instead, he puts on a quiet show, fighting with a practiced restraint. The news notes how graceful he moves, how calculated. The most damage he ever does is a black eye to a bank robber. Sometimes his Dad lets him collaborate with different heroes, like the Teen Team.

Mark is quiet, which freaks Rex out. It takes a lot of self-restraint not to bend Rex in half like a stick. Kate and Robot seem to appreciate how efficient he is, but neither seem particularly interested in his friendship, either. Probably because he never says more than three words to them at a time. Atom Eve always looks at him like she’s seeing a ghost. He hates how much she knows about him without ever even speaking to him. America cheers their youngest new superhero, and Mark loathes every second of it. But not when William gushes about how amazing Mark is. His self-loathing subsides, and he glows in the compliments.

“Mark, you’re incredible, man,” William says, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re out there saving lives, flying around, and kicking ass! I’m so proud that I’m your friend. And hey, I get the best perk in the world, free flights for life!” William leans over to ruffle his hair. Mark knows this description is exceptionally naive. From most people, it would simply bother him. But the genuine awe and trust in William’s eyes makes him feel like being a hero can be real. He smiles, because he can’t help it.

William waggles his eyebrows when he comes on the TV screen next to Atom Eve, the two of them working in perfect tandem to restrain and rescue a car that had fallen over the side of a bridge. “And look at that girl! She’s not my type, obviously, but you, hotshot hero? Looks like you got a real chance with her, huh?” 

Mark never mentions harboring any romantic feelings for anyone, ever. Despite this, William insists he must have secret crushes, and remarks that he knows for a fact that Mark can’t be asexual based on the way he’d stare at certain comic book covers William was reading. Usually, Mark was actually just staring at William, but he didn’t need to know that. Atom Eve thinks that she knows him, that she can help him. She thinks she can relate to him, in having difficult parents. Her father is a misogynist, and his father is going to make him end the world. The idea of intimacy with her is revolting, and he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like her.” 

William rolls his eyes, knocking his shoulder. “You say that every time I point someone out, man. Maybe you really are asexual.” 

Mark shakes his head. “No. M’not.” William doesn’t need to know the ways he’s thought about him. But based on the way William stammers and turns red for a second, Mark has a feeling he isn’t alone. But he can’t do anything about it. He wants to, badly, of course. If he’s going to end the world, why can’t he let himself have one thing? 

 

But he restrains himself for now. He can’t let William love a harbinger, someone who is to end the world as he knows it. But, much to Omni-Man's dismay, he is only human, at least on the inside. He thinks about him night and day. 

 

—

William finally convinces him to come to a party, celebrating Halloween. Mark hasn’t been trick or treating since third grade, and he hasn’t had a real friend besides William for longer. But William insists that he needs to socialize, that sixteen year olds need to experience normal life outside of being a hero. William is always thinking about him, always trying to make him feel better. Mark is so glad to have him.

“I can fly, William.” Mark grimaces as they rattle along the freeway in Will’s dinky red car. “We could be there in two seconds. You love flying.” You love flying with me.  

“Of course I do, Mark, but if you want to preserve your secret identity, you probably shouldn’t show up to a Halloween party thirty minutes away by descending from the sky.” William laughs, knocking his shoulder. “And you wanted to wear your suit as your costume! Can you imagine how that would’ve gone, dummy?” The truth is, Mark has little interest in preserving his own identity. Nobody besides his father could probably even hurt him, and every time they fight, he closes the gap with Omni-Man impressively quickly. His father is proud, but even Mark sees a glimmer of worry behind his old and tired eyes at the strength of his son. Ironic. he thinks.

And if anybody hurt those he cared about, they’d be easy to splatter on the sidewalk. If people knew his real name, very little would change. But William insisted that he preserve his identity, and William usually gets what he wants from Mark. The same way that Mark gets what he wants from William. Except for something that makes his heart race, his stomach flutter. He’s been slamming his feelings down for so long. But sooner or later, something must give. 

“Earth to Mark Grayson? I get that you’re half-alien, but you gotta spend time with us normal people on Earth, buddy.” William shoved him out of his trance. “And hey, remember, the guy hosting this party is like, mega hot. And he actually personally invited me, so I don’t think I’m crazy when I say I have a shot. I need my mysterious, brooding best friend as my wingman, you know?”

Mark instantly glowers at the reminder of Rick. Ah, Rick, the senior with the big muscles and the deep voice. William gushed about him all the time. Apparently, in their shared math class one day, Rick extended a personal invitation to William to come to his Halloween party. Of course, this fact was completely irrelevant to Mark finally going to a party with William, despite William’s attempts for literal years. For the first year or so of William being in high school, his gaze lingered on Mark’s muscles when he thought Mark wasn’t looking. He felt William’s breath hitch when they leaned against one another, felt goosebumps under his skin when they touched. As Mark trained, he found himself losing his restraint more and more. One day, he almost subconsciously grappled onto William’s wrist, and the two had stared at each other for a long, grueling minute. 

But then Mark had let go, and William had let go of the idea of them together, Mark knows. William must think he has no interest in him, but really? Mark would do anything for William, because he’s the reason that he can even resemble the husk of the human he once was. So, if he has to put up with William flirting with…and getting involved with…some guy named Rick, Mark knows he would do anything for William, so he can put up with it. 

__

Mark was wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong.

Watching a guy put the moves on William was excruciating. 

Rick was a sweet and gentle giant, of fucking course. The party was a lot more intimate than Mark had expected from the whole ‘high school Halloween party’ from the movies William and he would watch on the nights that training ended early enough. Rick had invited maybe twenty or so people in all, plus the few who had brought along girlfriends or boyfriends. Mark was the only plus one who wasn’t a romantic partner, something Rick noted nonchalantly. William looked away awkwardly, clarifying Mark to be straight.

“Says who?” Mark blurts, surprising himself, William, and Rick. It is oh so incredibly awkward. Mark hiccups, looking into the kitchen behind them and speed walking at the fastest possible human pace. “…’M gonna go get a drink.” William looks like he wants to say something, but for once, he doesn’t offer a quip. Mark has never had a beer in his life, but he’s half of a fucking alien from a world where people tear each other in half. He can handle glorified liquid wheat.

Rick was sure to inform William that he was completely single, like it was a horribly sad curse he had to put up with. Mark swore he saw heart eyes from William when Rick pulled the ‘arms hanging above the doorway, flexing his muscles’ trick. Mark does the same thing. Rick is very respectful and asks William if he’s comfortable with a beer. Rick is very genuine when he asks William about his favorite courses, and enthusiastically tells him about his admittance to Upstate University when William talks about pre-med for college. Rick gently looks to William for confirmation when he gingerly takes William’s hand in his own. “You know, William, you have the most beautiful blue eyes,” he murmurs, closing the gap between them. William, normally all confidence and sarcastic quips, is uncharacteristically flustered. 

“Have—have you looked in a mirror, dude? You look like Adonis and Hercules had a love child bathed in the golden touch of Midas.” William stammers, and Rick laughs. Mark bites into his bottom lip so hard that he feels the taste of iron in his mouth. The last straw is when Rick puts his enormous hand over the back of William’s neck, leaning in with a sultry tone.

“Let me show you how everything I touch turns to gold, then.” Rick drawls, eyes lidded and lustful. 

Mark doesn’t notice it happens, but the beer bottle in his hand shatters into a million pieces. Shards of glass spray all over his hand, and of course, he’s completely untouched. Still, several partygoers scream, and Rick, the host, practically sprints over to Mark, William in tow. William, knowing that the bottle is the loser of this fight, and Mark is completely fine, looks livid to have his time with Rick interrupted. Rick has no idea and practically clears the area of the glass’s impact like a crime scene. “Everyone stand back!” He calls out, reaching over to the wall for a hung first aid kit. “I’m a trained EMT, so I can help.” And ugh, of course he is. Mark forgets that he’s supposed to be bleeding everywhere, and is actually completely fine. The fabric of his Halloween costume, a Seance Dog outfit and cape, is ripped brutally at his palm. But his skin is completely fine. 

Rick rushes over, holding his wrist still and meticulously going over his palm. Mark tries his best, for William’s sake, to be remorseful of interrupting their time, and apologizes for the mess. “…Sorry about your floor. And interrupting the party.” Mark murmurs. He knows that even though he despises Rick, he isn’t a bad person. That makes it worse, honestly. 

“Mark, right? You have nothing to be sorry for, I’m sorry the beer broke apart like that on you. Christ, that must have hurt like hell, all of that alcohol and the blood…” Rick noticed the sticky beer coating his palm, and the ripped fabric. And as he rolls up Mark’s sleeve, and sees no glass shards embedded in his skin, no sign of an open wound at all. “What…oh my God, you were exceptionally lucky.”

Lucky is exactly the word that Omni-Man uses to describe Mark’s identity as a Viltrumite. Lucky is the word Nolan uses to convey the hits he lands against his father, cold and calculated. Lucky is something Mark Grayson would never begin to imagine calling himself. 

“Are you okay? You look very red,” Rick notices, concerned. Mark rips his hand away, and glares at him. Rick draws back, confused. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you? Oh God, Is there glass inside your skin?!” He looks horrified. 

“No glass. I’m fucking fine, okay?” Mark practically hisses, to Rick’s dismay. He glances between William, who for the first time in years, looks furious at Mark, and Rick, who has nothing but concern for the guy who basically cockblocked him into oblivion. Not to mention ruined his party by acting like a psychopathic freak. Rick carefully reaches for his other arm, flicking his head to the bathroom. 

“Let’s go take a breather, okay? I can drive you home afterward if you need me to. I haven’t drank anything.” Rick, the gracious sober host, offers. Mark seethes at the pure generosity and sincerity of this man, but eventually, after noting the pleading look in William’s eyes, does nothing but nod and sigh. 

Rick leads him along to the bathroom, directing his guests to the broom and dustpan to gather the glass. William offers to clean it up, and Rick tells him to be careful, and to wear a pair of gloves underneath the sink. Rick is truly one of the most genuine people Mark has ever met. And it makes him so unbelievably angry that he can’t be that way.  The door to the bathroom shuts, and Mark is alone with Rick, who offers him a dixie cup of water. Mark slaps it out of his hands, to the wall, teeth bared. Rick recoils, but keeps his gaze on Mark, more curious than angered. “Why are you so fucking nice?” Mark growls, fists tightened against his thighs. “I ruined your hookup with Will, I shattered glass all over your floor, I slapped your hand away, and you won’t stop being nice to me. What the fuck do you want?” Mark asks, exasperated, more emotive than he’s felt in years. 

Rick seems to click something into place, the creases on his forehead softening in newfound clarity. “…The first thing you mentioned was William. Who—by the way, is much more than a hookup to me. I would never think of him that way.” 

“Damn right he is,” Mark affirms, tone cold. Rick smiles softly, knowingly. Mark has no idea how to proceed from here, but Rick seems to. 

“You know, William always mentioned you were stone-cold chiseled. He said you could probably cut steel with your abs.” Rick says, and Mark has to hold himself back from literally cutting the steel faucet into pieces with his bare flesh. “He said you’re the most thoughtful person he’s ever met. That he always shows up to your house and you’ve got new movies, great food, and anything else he ever mentions that he likes waiting.” Rick looks to his open palm, to his cape, to his unmasked face, tracing pieces together. “He also said that you had a really hard time while growing up. That you have expectations on you that nobody should have to deal with.” 

Mark can feel every muscle in his body tightening, every fiber of his being screaming. He remembers the fainting, the pain. He remembers the mental anguish, the wholly insurmountable loneliness. He knows that nobody else in the world could possibly empathize with what he’s been made into, what his purpose is for. But William has always tried. And for the first time in years, Mark is hugged, and he begins to cry. Rick holds him gently, in a completely foreign way. It’s comfortable, it’s nice. It’s exactly what he’s been missing. “Oh God, Oh God…” Mark trills softly into Rick’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Rick simply hums, holding him there and offering him more water. “It’s okay, man. It’s really going to be okay.” For the first time in his teenage life, Mark believes it. They stay like that for a few minutes, until somebody knocks on the door to the bathroom, their tone soft and worried.

“Mark? Rick…? Are you in there?” William sounds regretful, guilty, when Mark knows he has no reason to be. Rick looks to him for permission, and Mark nods. The door to the bathroom inches open, and William practically throws himself into Mark’s arms. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I heard everything,” William sniffles. “Mark, God, I knew you were hurting, I know you’ve been hurting for years, obviously, but I never realized just how…how…” William trails off, unable to find the words. He lets out a soft cry, tightening his hug around Mark. “I’m so sorry, Mark. I only ever wanted you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” Mark responds without needing to think about it. William cries louder, wailing into Mark’s neck. Rick regards them both a final time and leaves the bathroom with a final comment. 

“My parents…they have a boat house, down by the lake. The key is by the back door. Nobody will bother you.” And with that, Rick takes his leave, going to staff his party again. 

They kiss for the first time in that bathroom, alone with the lights dimmed. It’s the best experience of Mark’s life by far. Even better than when he knocked his Dad’s front tooth into the dirt a few months ago. William is just perfect in every way Mark ever imagined he would be. He’s gentle, he asks before he touches, and when he does, it’s like an angelic flutter against his skin. Eventually, William carefully loops a finger around the collar of his shirt, eyeing Mark greedily. “I think that boat house sounds pretty goddamn good, Mark,” he practically purrs against Mark’s ear. It takes every bit of restraint that Mark has not to obliterate the roof and walls of Rick’s townhouse, and to instead carefully sneak out the back door like a normal person. William doesn’t keep his hands to himself while they sneak by the living room, and gives him a sinister look. Mark will definitely make him pay for that.

When they get to the boathouse, there’s not a lot of messing around. The clothes come off, and it’s strictly business. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Mark Grayson,” William sighs against his lips, held tightly against his chest. 

Me too, Mark thinks, his mouth otherwise occupied. Mark comes home at 3 am with dark blotches lining his neck, and his body drenched in sweat. His father regards him with nothing but a raised brow, and a grunt. “Go fuck yourself, Dad.” Mark has the courage to say, his legs shaking. Surprisingly, Nolan doesn’t seem angered. He simply closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He calls Atom Eve and asks to join the Teen Team. He moves out of his house that night, carrying nothing but the clothes on his back and the Seance Dog collectible William got him for his birthday. 

“The day is coming sooner than you’d think, son.” He warns. For once, Mark doesn’t care. He is finally, after so many years of pain, a person again.

—

Life on  the Teen Team is so utterly different in the best ways possible.

Everyone welcomes him with open arms. Well, everyone who has an opinion that matters, anyway. During his introduction tour, Kate 1 offers him water while Kate 2 shows him an empty spot for his luggage. Eve creates him a bed out of thin air, and they have a long and frankly insightful talk about how much they hate other people’s expectations. Rex was an exceptional hardass at first, but stopped being so on guard after he saw Mark’s screensaver of him and William. He’s still unpleasant and brash, but he isn’t completely despicable. At least not to Mark, anyway.

The group’s leader, ironically, is the only one who isn’t a teenager at all. Robot is strange, and speaks as if sociability is completely foreign to him. In that way, he relates to Mark, and the two seldom encounter any misunderstandings. In fact, Robot usually lauds Mark’s tactics, mentioning that he rarely has to use his algorithms to correct his course in combat or rescue. “It’s as if you have an innate sense of what you have to do,” Robot comments one night. Mark glows with the praise, quietly smiling. He still rarely speaks, but the others are all quickly becoming his new home. William is ecstatic for him, and while he isn’t allowed to come to the tower, he meets Eve one day by complete accident after noticing they go to the same high school. William remarks that he simply knew something was unique about her, and Eve quips that her long red hair was a dead giveaway, laughing. They become fast friends, playfully engaging in jokes at Mark’s lightest inconveniences. Mark adores them.

A few months later, after Mark and the Teen Team have finished protecting the city from a villain who rants about diversity quotas and the destruction of Mother Earth, Rex Splode slaps him on the shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “I tell ya, man, you’re an absolute monster,” Rex proclaims, slapping his ass. Mark frowns, unhappy with the contact, shifting his posture out of Rex’s reach. “I mean, really, you picked up an entire fucking skyscraper like it was a toy. I’ve never seen anybody else do that except for the strongest man alive. Hey, who do you think would win? I think Omni-Man would kick your—

—Rex, stop being an asshole,” Eve interrupts him, shutting Rex up by molecularly rearranging his mask to cover his mouth. Rex grunts indignantly, flipping her off and making other rude and probably misogynistic gestures. The rest of them laugh at his misfortune, sans Robot, who Mark assumes lacks the ability to. Even Mark himself lacks the restraint not to smile. 

“I think we earned a treat after that one, guys,” Dupli-Kate 1 says, handing her phone over to Dupli-Kate 2, who punches in the number of a local restaurant. Dupli-Kate 3 merges back into 1, her bloodied suit dematerializing as if it was never there. “Let’s make a reservation at that Italian place downtown. I could really go for a good stromboli.” Mark finds her power fascinating, if not completely tragic. He’s seen her get ripped in half, shot to pieces, crushed by rocks, and thrown into magma, burning before she hits the surface. Kate is one of the few people he thinks has a worse fate than he, and yet, she champions herself as a martyr for good. It’s inspiring to see. That does not mean she is above money laundering, apparently. “Eve, can you make us a couple hundred dollars? That should cover it.” 

Eve scoffs at the notion, shaking her head. “Excuse me? What makes you think that just because I can, I’ll just make money for you whenever you feel like it?” 

“Oh, come on, Eve,” Rex bemoans, his mask off, and his hair bedraggled. Mark hates to admit it, but Rex is gorgeous; It’s no wonder Eve gives him so many chances. “It’s not like we get paid, so technically, we almost died for literally nothing. We earned a paycheck!”

“We didn’t ‘almost die’ for nothing, we saved approximately 20,000 innocent lives from crumbling infrastructure,” Robot remarks. “And if we were to…make money, in a literal sense, Atom Eve’s powers would render our laundering virtually untraceable. Not that I am recommending that, of course.” 

“Robot, aren’t you supposed to be the reasonable one?” Eve sighs, punching her nose. Finally, Eve turns to Mark, “Come on, Strong and Silent, back me up here.” Mark simply shrugs, having never had to worry about money. It is one of the few boons of his mother’s alimony money and his father’s writing. Eve feigns frustration, knocking Mark’s shoulder playfully. “Fat load of good you are, Invincible.” 

“Well, we did work very hard to not get crushed and die,” Mark admits, though he sincerely doubts he was ever truly in any danger. But still, the idea of the Empire State building falling on his head does not sound pleasant, as Dupli-Kate had the misfortune of…not living through. At least a few times, based on the number that adorned the dead copy’s suit. 27.

“…I literally did die. A lot,” Kate affirms. The look on her face is complicated, like she isn’t sure she’s allowed to feel sorry about it. “I just want some nice food after being crushed by several metric tons of rubble. Is that so much to ask?” 

“Yeah, but aren’t you used to that by now?” Rex snorts, unimpressed. “It’s not like you’re actually risking your life. You can just make more.” Kate turns into four of herself, and they each kick Rex in a different place near his pelvis. Rex lets out a cry and falls over, holding his crotch. The Dupli-Kates easily form back into one, standing over Rex triumphantly. 

“Imagine that, but hundreds of times, every time we go out, and no matter how excruciating you think that felt, it’s worse.” Kate narrows her eyes. Rex snarls, and reaches into his pocket. Eve steps between them, exasperated. 

“Guys, please, stop fighting!” Eve groans, looking at Robot, their leader in all but writing. “Robot, what’s…the, um, economic impact of creating like…one hundred and fifty dollars out of thin air? Twenty-five for each of us. Not a cent more.” Eve declares, line drawn in the sand. “And that’s assuming I can even do it right. Money has trackers and codes and stuff, guys. It’s not just paper.”

Robot tilts his head, the equivalent of an amused expression on his face. “Creating a mere hundred and fifty dollars would be all but negligible on the larger economic scale. I doubt it would even be noticed by a careful statistician. And I could scan it to ensure it would pass as legitimate. Though, you do not need to allot me any. I am not able to consume food, nor normal human beverages.” 

“We can pick you up some screws or something,” Dupli-Kate notes bemusedly. Robot seems confused.

“I do not use screws. My facets are all magnetically interlocked.” Robot replies. Rex groans at the response, shoving his way through the circle, his dignity bruised but never broken, Mark will give him that.

“If we don’t do something now, I’m going to blow myself up from boredom! Come on, Eve, babe,” Rex goads her on, smirking. “Commit a crime…! Commit a crime!” Eve smiles at Rex, a rare moment where his antics amuse her. Eve resigns herself, sighing, and begins to pull the air around them into five and ten dollar bills that float their way into each of their hands, even to Robot. 

“If we go to jail for this, Robot, I want you to be liable as well.” She smirks. Robot cannot laugh, but from the silent whirr and the way the lights on his face dim, Mark imagines that he would. He takes the money gently in his mechanical grasp. Eve clicks her fingers together, creating thirty more dollars, motioning their greedy hands away. “Back, you greedy asses! This money is for whatever poor waiter’s day we ruin.”

Mark realizes that he loves these people. Even Rex, in his not so charming way. And almost everyone he loves will be going to this dinner. The only thing that would make it better is…Well. “Wait…Eve. Um, everyone.” Mark speaks up, shyly, the equivalent of finding a four leaf clover in a haystack that’s currently on fire. Everyone, even Robot, appears surprised by his interjection, as much as his tinted green lenses allow him to convey.

“What is it, Invincible?” Robot tilts his head to the other side, inquisitive, now. Mark clasps his hands together, suddenly feeling very sweaty and exposed. All four of his friends are eager to hear him finally speak up for himself.

“Do you guys think…uhm…that my boyfriend William could come to dinner with us?” He whispers, glancing to the ground. His friends all look at each other, and they smile, nodding.

“I’ve met him. He’s sarcastic, and witty…in a good way, unlike you, Rex.” Eve winks towards him. Rex playfully flips her off again. “But hey, boy’s gotta bring his own money. I am not a bank,” Eve declares.

“Of course, Mark.” Kate confirms, smiling. “We’d be happy to meet someone you care about. We’re a team, after all.” 

Rex waves his arm around, making a show out of his mock indecision. “Meh…as long as you guys don’t start making out at dinner. I can’t stand PDA.” Rex gags.

“Uh, you and Eve kiss in front of us literally the time. Homophobic much?” Kate quips lightly, to Rex’s feigned shock and dismay.

“Hey, hey hey! I might be an asshole, and a hypocrite, because yes, I do kiss Eve in public, but I am NOT a homophobe. Do not get it twisted, Kate!” Rex points his finger at her, pouting. Mark can’t help it when the others begin to laugh. He joins in with them, soft chuckling under his breath, but a start. 

Robot considers their declaration, rubbing his faux chin with his metal phalanges. “Well, I suppose I foresee little ramifications for William’s inclusion. However, seeing as I am unable to assume civilian garb, we will have to attend in costume…William included.” 

Mark finds the notion hilarious, and to be honest, a little cute. “He’d love that. He always talks about how he wishes he could fight crime with me.”

“Is that so?” Robot inquires, his circuits and gears whirring from within his metal mind. “I believe I have just the thing, then.” 

__

Apparently, Robot does have a sense of humor. A very good sense, in fact.

“This is absolutely humiliating,” bemoans William, clad in a copy of Invincible’s own costume, except the primary colors have been swapped around. The ‘I’ on the chest stands for the dumbest thing Mark has ever heard. 

“Invulnerable, your new alter-ego,” Robot supplies. William glowered, completely unphased by Robot’s identity. To complete the costume, his normally fluffy, curled hair had been slicked back. William stops complaining when Mark leans over and whispers how he feels about the hairstyle into his ear. William turns bright red and excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving Mark satisfied.

“Ew, Invincible, some of us are trying to eat here!” Rex gags. It turns out their moral dilemma over money was entirely pointless, because the staff offered to let them eat whatever they wanted, free of charge. Of course, Eve insisted they pay anyway, and soon the other patrons flooded Instagram and every other social media site with photos of their team’s so-called victory brunch, speculation over William’s identity included. 

Mark doesn’t care, and neither does William. His identity being a secret never mattered to him anyway, so his sexuality doesn’t, either. In fact, he kisses ‘Invulnerable’ on the lips right in front of a press camera that lines up outside the window, much to William’s satisfaction. “You’ll live, Rex,” Eve snickers, running a hand through his hair. Rex, for once, is satiated, and they eat in relative peace, the sound of Robot’s pencil whirring as he performs some calculations outside of Mark’s understanding. Surprisingly, Robot gazes up to William upon his return, his head tilting inquisitively again. Mark feels uneasy, and he isn’t sure why. His stomach churns. 

“So. You and Invincible have been together for several months, and involved platonically for essentially your whole lives before.” Robot leans forward, “When did you learn of his secret identity?” 

William looks surprised to be addressed, and chuckles awkwardly. “I don’t know if I should say. I mean, it’s up to Mm—Invincible to reveal any private information, after all.” William is…a little scared. It breaks Mark’s heart.

Mark speaks up, glancing at Robot with a hard expression. “I told him I had powers a few years ago. I only had them for a couple before that.” Stop scaring my boyfriend, or you’ll regret it. He hopes Robot gets the message.

Robot backs down, his robotic tone as flatter than usual. “My apologies for the intrusive question. The different aspects of human interactivity and social acceptance are still foreign to many of my programs.” 

“Uh…yeah…no problem.” William blinks, going back to eating his food with a perplexed twinge of his brow. But Mark knows better. He knows Robot isn’t as naive about the way people respond as he pretends to be. On the contrary, he’s excellent at poking for information without arousing suspicion. Nobody else seems to even notice what he’d said. 

Robot knows he got his powers at twelve years old, but never used them in the public eye until he was sixteen. A fact that shouldn’t matter in the slightest, after all, he was a literal child. But then again, most literal children aren’t forced to wrestle gigantic kaiju by their parents, or punch through the stomach of an engorged kraken, all under the cover of a completely black suit. Mark sees the binary running in the eyes of Robot, cold and calculating. For the first time since joining, Mark feels uneasy on the Teen Team. But it subsides, and Mark continues on with his life, garnering Teen Team a reputation as one of the most respected and reliable teams around. They even get to work with the Guardians of the Globe on special occasions, a fact that has all of them, but especially Kate, absolutely ecstatic.

Things are good for almost a year, even great. But nothing lasts forever.

__

Once it starts, everything all goes to Hell rather quickly, of course it does. 

The day starts off completely unassuming, with the others (aside from Rex and Robot) attending school or other alternative educations, while Mark continues his online diploma from his classes recommended by the GDA. Mark is unsure of what he’s going to major in, but ever since Rick, William has been dead set on Upstate’s pre med program. And wherever he goes, Mark will follow. He smiles at the idea of finally living together, but is sad at the notion that he will not be living with the Teen Team anymore. Eve assured him they’ll keep in touch, and keep working together, that they’re a family. “We’ll probably have to update the name, though.” She winked, laughing. 

It’s been a long time since the word family was anything to him. And a longer time still since it made him anything but uneasy. It’s a good feeling, Mark knows. His assignments are boring him, but the one good thing about being forced to do extensive work is that most of it later becomes trivially easy. He’s about to submit his last paper of the day when suddenly, Robot shoots up in alarm, his voice tinted with fear. “Everyone, brace for impact!” Robot declares, and then the whole tower shakes. There’s a loud crash through the roof of the power, with far too much force for it to be from any of their teammates. Rex is thrown into the floor, and Mark’s posture nearly gives way. Whatever hit them, it was strong.

“Oh my,” Robot says, the faintest hint of alarm in his voice. “It would appear we have a rather…unexpected…visitor.” Based on his tone, Robot is deeply nervous, which is something that Mark has never heard before. It’s terrifying, and both he and Rex feel dread pooling in their chests. 

The air itself seems colder as the red and white figure descends into the tower. Omni-Man hovers there, his gaze locked onto Mark like a missile. Rex looks at Robot, baffled. Robot appears to be frightened, but not particularly surprised. “Omni-Man.” Regards Robot, gently bowing in respect. “To what do we owe the pleasure of such a visit?” 

Omni-Man looks disgruntled at Robot’s visage. “I prefer to speak to flesh and blood, and not machines masquerading as more.” Robot lacks a response, and simply backs away. Rex Splode takes his place, indignant. 

“Hey now, Omni-Jerk, Robot might be bolts, but he’s still good people!” Spits Rex, and Omni-Man takes notice of him for the first time. He regards him with a quick wave of his hand.

“I’m not here for you, explodey guy. I’m here to speak to Invincible. I’m here to speak to my son.” Nolan’s words set Mark’s heart on fire, beating rapidly. 

“He’s your SON???” Balks Rex, his jaw dropped open like a cave. “Oh, fuck, dude. I am so sorry for all the times I said he’d beat you the fuck up.” Rex turns to Mark, seemingly genuine, at the worst possible time. “If anybody understands having shitty parental figures, it’s definitely—

“—Shut up. Now. Please,” Mark whispers, and for once, Rex listens. He takes a step back, and watches Omni-Man float to face his son directly. He hasn’t seen his father in person in months, and he looks exactly the same as he did that night. It’s eerie, how he looks exactly the same as his nightmares, not a hair out of place. Mark hopes he never looks like that.

“Mark. We need to talk.” 

Any hope that everything will be okay dies with those words. He wants so badly to refuse. He wants so badly to tell his Dad to fuck off, to never see him again. He wants to tell him that he’s been visiting Mom again, that she cried and held him for hours. That his life is moving on without him, and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“I don’t think William would like it if you refused, son.” Omni-Man smirks. Mark feels his entire world fall into pieces. He shoots forward grasping his dad by the throat. Or at least, he tries to. Omni-Man lifts his wrist and stops him until they’re mere inches apart, with Mark snarling at his father’s indifferent expression. Nolan pinches his own brow, annoyed. “Calm down. Everything’s fine. Just…come with me.” 

Robot glances between them. “Everything will be taken care of here, Invincible. Omni-Man likely requires your strength for something important.” Robot’s gaze is reassuring, for once. He wants Mark to know that he’s on his side. Mark swallows and then nods reluctantly. He feels Rex and Robot’s eyes on their backs as he and his father take to the sky, miles above the clouds, completely remote. Untraceable. For good measure, Nolan checks his ears and pats him down. 

“What the hell are you doing? What do you want?” Mark wants to claw his eyes out. Omni-Man confirms he’s not bugged or chipped, and then faces him, stern and built like a solid mountain.

“I’m making sure you don’t get us caught and ruin my plan,” Omni-Man responds. “Viltrum sent me an update last month. They’re tired of my waiting, and I’ve been lenient enough with you already. I let you have your little friends, I let you mess around with that little boyfriend of yours. None of that will have to stop when Viltrum comes, Mark. If you help me now, this world and everyone in it will be saved by our advanced technology and resources.” 

“If the other Viltrumites treat their kids anything like you've treated me, I hope they burn up in the sun on their way here,” Mark snaps back. Nolan simply looks amused by the outburst. 

“You really have no idea just how privileged your life has been, do you?” Nolan looms over Mark, his face shifting to ice. “I had killed dozens of my unworthy brothers and sisters by the time I was your own age, Mark. You have been coddled, frankly, and it’s time you stopped being such a brat.” 

“Then what do you want from me? To bend my knee and let them enslave my friends? My home?” Mark’s voice is his usual quiet and serious tone, his eyes volcanic in their hatred. “I’ve been getting stronger, Dad. Even before I left, I could hold my own against you.” 

At that, Nolan barks out a laugh. “Oh, please. Do you really think that if I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be dead? You’re my son, Mark. Believe it or not, despite your lack of gratitude, I want you to be part of the Viltrum Empire.” 

“I can’t say the same,” Mark grimaces. “Whatever your plan is, I want no part in your life anymore.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son.” Nolan’s voice is dangerous, his eyebrows narrowing in annoyance. “You’re going to come with me, and do as I say.”

“You don’t control me, Dad! Not now, not any more.” Mark refuses. Nolan continues to grow more frustrated, his voice sharper.

“All you have to do is come with me and prove your loyalty. One battle and this planet is as good as ours, Mark! There’s only one major obstacle that stands even the slightest chance of threatening us. All you have to do is help me remove it. Then your precious friends are loyal Viltrumite citizens.” Mark’s eyes widen in horror. One obstacle…

“No. I won’t do it,” Mark pleads. “Please, Dad. I don’t want to kill anything else! Please!” Mark cries. “They’re your friends, they’re my heroes!” 

“Once the Guardians are gone…you can have your little boyfriend and your friends. You can make them help the integration go smoother.” Nolan prods. Mark’s head is swimming, anxiety and dread clouding his mind in a thick fog. He always knew his dad would conquer the Earth, and he always knew he was trained for this. He spent years resigned to that fate, that his life was no longer his own. He believed he had no choice, until Rick showed him kindness. Until his mom sobbed about how sorry she was, that she’d never abandon him again. Until Atom Eve made him a Seance Dog t-shirt out of thin air. Until William kissed him in that bathroom. 

He does the unthinkable. He swings for his dad’s head, roaring in fury. Nolan lets out a defeated sigh, like he’s resigned himself to the loss of Mark. “I was really hoping you would be reasonable.” And then Mark’s entire world blurs with searing pain, the lower half of body feels as if it’s sizzling in a burning fire. A gaping, flaring pain emanates in his stomach, and he gurgles helplessly as blood gushes out of his mouth, his stomach. His father’s bare hand squeezes at his intestines, bits of his flesh coating his pristine white suit. 

It’s complete and utter agony. Mark opens his mouth to scream, and chokes on blood. The taste is unbearable, intoxicating his senses with iron. The back of his throat emanates whimpers that hardly begin to describe the complete hellfire his body tortures itself through. Omni-Man is furious, his own hands trembling from inside Mark’s body. “Look at what you made me do to you, son! Look at what happens when you try to defy your empire!” Mark’s vision is nearly white, and he can just barely make out the edges of a tear on his father’s cheek. 

“We could have done this together, son. Just know that.” Omni-Man regards him one final time, and Mark reaches for him, desperate. He wants his father, he wants his mom. He wants William. Nolan’s fist reels back, and Mark feels the wind rushing against his back as he plummets back towards the Earth. All he sees is a blur of red and white rushing away, and then he sees nothing for a long time.

—

“…His vitals are stabilizing, and his organs have returned to their natural place on their own. The impact tore a lining in his stomach, we’ll have to clip it immediately to prevent further blood loss.” 

“What could have done this to them? They’re the strongest heroes on Earth, oh my God. If someone could do this to War Woman, to Omni-Man…” 

“We have a job to do! This kid is still alive, and he might be our only chance to find out who did this.” 

Mark wakes up again in two weeks.

—

Omni-Man is there when he wakes up. So are the Teen Team, and William, and his mom. William is sobbing into his chest, crying his name over and over again. 

“Oh Mark, oh Mark, I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry,” he blubbers, a complete wreck. “Please, please be okay, please, oh God…”

“William…” He manages to reach for his hand, and William takes it gently, holding it up to his own chest in relief. He sobs in relief, kissing Mark fervently. 

“I suggest you exercise caution, William. You may accidentally injure Mark further.” Robot warns, his voice…a little different. It’s bizarre, but Mark swears he notices a hitch in his words, a new emphasis. William ignores him completely.

“His boyfriend was nearly murdered; I think he gets a pass.” Eve scoffs, smiling at Mark. “We’re so glad you’re okay, Mark.” 

“He had a fucking hole in him, Eve. I wouldn’t call that ‘okay.’” Snaps Rex. Clearly, they’ve been fighting again.

“At least he’s alive,” Kate murmurs, sighing. “He and his dad. Out of nine…”

“Approximately 22 percent.” Robot offers, and they hang their heads in grief. Omni-Man stares into Mark’s horrified eyes as his son begins to cry. 

“Mark, I love you so much, I love you more than anything in the entire world, you hear?” His mom clutches his other hand close to her, quietly dripping tears onto his cold skin. 

“Oh, shh, Mark, it’s okay. Your dad and you lived, and they can catch the bastard now.”  William holds him, and Mark sobs louder. 

—

He tells them he didn’t see anything. With his father looming over everyone he ever cared about just behind him, how could he?

Cecil, the acting GDA director, seems like he already expected this answer. “And that’s all you saw? A blur that hit you, carried your father away after blinding him?” Mark can only nod, noticing the gashes around his father’s eyes, and the red streaks cutting through his neck. “Christ. Whoever was bad enough to take out the Guardians and two of our strongest reservists, they sure know what they’re doing.”

Robot lingers behind him, whirring quietly. The others all embrace, mourning the loss of the greatest superheroes the world has ever known. But Mark can see the fear in Cecil’s eyes, and the uneasy state of his second in command, the way he shifts back and forth. They’re suspicious of him. They’re suspicious of his dad. They already know what happened, and they’re acutely aware they can’t do anything to stop it from happening again. When he’s released from the hospital, his mother insists that he and William come back to her house, to his childhood home. “I don’t fucking care how dangerous this assailant is. I will protect my son and those he loves with my life.” 

“I have no objections,” offers his father. “Once my costume is recovered, I plan to suit up, and hunt them down relentlessly. Anyone who gets in my way will surely regret it.” Nolan narrows his eyes at his son. Message received.  

Mark spends three long weeks essentially bedridden, with William spending every waking moment he’s not at school with him. He tried to even skip that, but Mark refused, knowing how important college was to him. His mother takes time off work, cooking his favorite childhood meals and watching his favorite shows with him. It’s so nice that he almost forgets the taste. He almost forgets the burning, the screaming, the pleading. The look in his father’s eyes. He holds William close every night, and his mother never complains once. Eventually, he can walk again, and his body begins to heal, one piece at a time. The doctors call him a medical miracle. By the second month, he insists on moving back to the tower, desperate to stop feeling suffocated, to see something besides his childhood. William is graciously allowed access to the tower, his teammates all too welcoming. He feels his dad watching him every night, no matter where he goes. 

—

Time goes on, and Omni-Man remains the Earth’s premiere hero. Mark helps his father stop an invasion of aliens from another dimension, and returns after a week, having declared the diplomatic relations to have been successful. His father tells him in private that they’re extinct now. The Guardians of the Globe are reformed, under Robot’s leadership skill that became evident when the Flaxans attacked. Every single member of his old team makes the cut, except for Eve, who retires to the woods, uncertain of her future. Mark wishes he could do the same. A cursed woman named Monster Girl, a superhuman man who goes by Bulletproof, and a former veteran of the Guardians who goes by Black Sampson round out the new team. Robot extends Mark an offer, and Mark shakes his head. “You know why I can’t, Robot,” he murmurs. The closest they’ve come to talking about what happened. 

“Indeed,” Robot replies wistfully, “but pretending seems to comfort you.” 

“It doesn’t,” Mark whispers, Robot giving him a solemn nod. Mark reaches out, grappling onto Robot, pleadingly. “Please, Robot. Help me.”

Robot is silent for a long time. “I’m sorry, Mark. But I want us to live.” He disappears back into the headquarters, watching his friends, the new Guardians, hoping and praying they lead better lives than he. 

—

Mark encounters the same earthquake villain from the Teen Team dinner, Doc Seismic. He easily grabs him, and places him underneath a crumbling Mount Rushmore. 

“You crushed Kate dozens of times,” he says, as the man screams and pleads for mercy. “Let’s see how you like it.”

Atom Eve shows up just in the nick of time, grappling Doc Seismic out of the way as Mark thrusts Mount Rushmore into the earth. The ground shakes, and people scream. Trees and cars are upturned, but astoundingly, thanks to Eve’s barriers, nobody is killed.“Mark, I care about you, please, you need to seek help.” Eve pleads, reaching for him. He flies away without a word.

—

Mark goes to Mars. A Martian tries to replace one of the astronauts, and he rips him in half. Cecil berates him for his lack of restraint, and the diplomatic disaster. The Martian ends up living, avoiding interplanetary war. "You saved my life, thank you, oh my God,” Russell the astronaut grovels at his feet pathetically. Mark doesn’t find that he cares at all. He looks back down at the red planet, wondering if Viltrum will come for them next. Probably not with all the Sequids, the lucky bastards. 

__

William notices he’s different, and sometimes he tries to ask about it. He stops when Mark punches a hole in the wall. His mom offers to send him to therapy, and sneaks around the house at odd hours of the night, wrapped up in her own mystery. Mark barely notices her anymore. “Mark, I’ll never stop loving you, you know that, right?” William whispers. 

“I know.” He doesn’t. “And I’ll never stop loving you, William. You’re my everything.” He kisses the top of his head. He’ll always love William; of that he is certain. His father can never take that away from him. 

—

A street thug asks for his help in overthrowing a tyrant downtown. He throws him headfirst into a jail cell, his father nodding approvingly. “You’re condemning thousands of innocent people, Invincible!” The man, Titan, calls. “I thought you were a hero!” 

Invincible turns back to him, ripping off his mask. The man stares in shock. “You don’t know anything about me.” He flies out of the prison as Titan screams his name, swearing his downfall.

Cecil calls Mark about revealing his identity, screaming into the phone for hours. Every news outlet in the world catches him flying out of the jail with his windswept hair and unblurred face. Nobody has put it together that William is the same man from the photos over a year ago, and Mark finds he doesn’t care. William knows that Mark will do absolutely anything for him, at least he hopes.

—

William and Mark visit Rick at college, for William to sit in on a biology lecture. They meet a disgusting troglodyte of a person named DA Sinclair. 

Rick goes out to buy some drinks and doesn’t come back for a few hours. When they find him in the sewer, he’s unrecognizable, his teeth gnashing and his robotic limbs flailing. Mark rips off Sinclair’s head while William sobs. 

“Jesus Christ, kid.” Cecil says, Mark sitting next to the corpse completely silent. “The man was a monster, but did you have to…?” 

“I did what was necessary, Cecil.” Mark replies, emotionless. William continues to sob by Rick’s unmoving metal body. “He hurt our friend. And many others.” 

“You ripped off his head, Mark.” Cecil narrows his eyes.

“I’d do it again, Cecil,” Mark replies easily. Cecil resigns to stop calling him unless he absolutely has to. 

__

The end of Mark’s world comes the next evening.

“Mark, it’s time. We need you.” Is all Cecil says. 

Mark watches the news from his bed, William sleeping on his chest. He sees a kaiju grappling with his father, one he’s certain that he already saw defeated. 

“I can’t fight him, Cecil.” Mark responds, quiet and condemned. 

“Robot told us about Viltrum, kid. He played the conversation from the days before the Guardians were killed.” Cecil remarks.

Mark should’ve known that Robot had a way of listening in. “Then you know I already tried and failed.” Mark sighs. 

“Your dad is going to destroy the world unless we stop him. And you’re the only superhero even remotely capable of matching his strength.” Cecil insists.

“I’m not doing it, Cecil.” Mark’s voice is stern, decisive. William squirms, his sleep disturbed. He squints his eyes open, groggy and confused.

“Mark? What’s going on?” William asks, worried. Mark rubs his hair soothingly.

Cecil’s microphone shifts, and there’s another familiar voice. His mother. “Mark, honey. I know. Oh God, honey, I know. I’d never ask you to do that again. You’re so brave, Mark. I’m so sorry for what he’s taken from you.”

Mark trembles, “He would have killed me, mom. He would have killed you all.” William shoots up, alarmed, his eyes wide. 

“What the hell is going on, Mark? Did they catch the guy, finally?” William demands. Who’s on the other end? Put them on speaker!” 

“Jesus Christ, William, it was my dad!” He screams, immediately regretting it. He sees the way William finally puts the pieces together, his face contorting in pure disgust and hatred. “Shit, Will, I’m sorry—please, you have to know, I love you so much.”

“Your dad punched a hole through you. Your dad…killed the Guardians of the Globe? Oh my God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe you…you were trying to warn me to stay away from him so many times…” William sits up, in a state of pure shock. The TV broadcast behind them shows a reporter pointing frantically to a blur speeding towards Omni-Man and the kaiju. Mark watches The Immortal, risen from the dead, charge headfirst at Omni-Man. 

“Cecil, they all died because of my husband! Please, I can talk him down, I can save him!” Debbie says over the intercom, signs of a struggle coming from Cecil’s grunts and Debbie’s own in return. 

“Jesus Christ, Debbie, no! Mark, get the fuck over there before—!” Cecil’s words are cut off, and the signal goes static. Mark watches in horror as the TV screen cuts out, blue light flashing along the screen. Mark has never flown faster in his life, hearing William cry after him through the new hole in their roof. 

He breaks the sound barrier, shattering his own eardrums as he booms across the sky, trees flattening underneath his wake, windows shattering as he flies by. When he gets there, his father is relentless in his onslaught, tossing the kaiju into the news helicopter. It crashes into the ground under the monster’s weight, and his father rips the helicopter’s blades from the earth, slicing the monster’s head clean off. 

The Immortal, bloodied but unbeaten, charges at his father from behind, tackling him into the earth by surprise. His father yells, struggling to get his grip. The Immortal shrieks into his ears, nothing but fury in every punch he throws.

“You TRAITOR!” The Immortal flings himself at Nolan with everything he has, unrelenting. War Woman—Darkwing—EVERYONE! We TRUSTED you!” The Immortal punches wildly, without restraint or strategy. A flash of blue energy pours into reality from nearby, and Mark’s mother Debbie falls onto the ground, gasping for air.

“Nolan—Immortal! —STOP!” Debbie cries, and her pleas fall on deaf ears. “We can stop this! Nolan, you—you killed the Guardians because you were being controlled, or because you felt like you had no other choice! I know the man I married is still there, I know he is!” Nolan, distracted, simply flings The Immortal off. He goes flying into the dirt, his legs snapping at odd angles. He cries out wildly, screaming for Omni-Man. Eventually, he stops, passing out from the pain. Nolan hovers down to meet Debbie, and Mark rushes between them, snarling. Mark feels his mom’s hand on his back, and she whispers into his ear. “Please, honey, trust me. I’m not going to let him hurt you again.” Mark pauses, and relents, stepping aside. 

Nolan folds his arms, raising an eyebrow at Debbie. “I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here. I knew you were strong, obviously, it’s why I married you. But this borders on complete stupidity, Debbie.” 

“Please, Nolan. I know you wouldn’t lay a finger on me.” Debbie’s voice trembles, and Mark is acutely aware that she is gambling her life on whatever humanity her father has left. 

Nolan tilts his head, before he acquiesces. “No, unless you forced me, I probably wouldn’t.”

“Then stop this, Nolan. Right now. Your home planet? Your old life? They don’t have to matter anymore.” Debbie sounds like she’s tried this before, desperation leaking from her tone. 

Nolan’s eyes redden, and he grits his teeth. “You know nothing about my life, Debbie. Not really. Everything I’ve done to this planet, to my own son? It’s for the greater good of their quality of life.”

“Bullshit!” Debbie scowls, “You’re just too cowardly to admit that you want a different life, now! You’re stuck in between your new life and your old one, and you’ve dragged Mark and I along on this mad march through Hell while you figure it out!” 

Nolan’s eyes widen, and he collapses to the ground. He covers his head, taking in the maelstrom of destruction he’s left in his wake. The helicopter, the Guardians, his own son, and countless others, if Viltrum arrives. “God…why are you making this so difficult?” 

“It’s not too late, Nolan! You can still stop this! I’ll love you all my life, Nolan, if you stop this right now!” Debbie pleads; Debbie begs. Nolan looks up to face her, and sadness paints his ancient eyes. 

“Debbie, you will die a thousand times before I die once. I can’t do this for you. They’ll kill Mark if he doesn’t help me. I have to do this. I’ll lose my family anyway!” Nolan growls, preparing to launch himself at Mark.

The air around them shifts, and before Nolan can jump anywhere, he looks up in horror. His hair begins to stand up, and his wife stands with her head held high to the sky. Debbie grabs something from her pocket, smiling sadly. “I know.” And before Mark can stop her, she launches a device towards him, setting him flying through the air, restrained against the ground. The air hums, for a long second. Debbie calls to him, “I’ll never let him hurt you again, honey, you hear me?”

“I’m truly sorry it came to this, kid, but this is our only choice.” Cecil’s voice comes in over his earpiece, choppy and remorseful. The world goes completely still for a quiet moment, every heartbeat on Earth stopped in sync. And then the sky is violet, the sky is red, the sky is every color. Mark’s vision is rocketed with colors he’s never seen before, and pure pain lights up every inch of his body as he watches the impact hit the ground. The shockwave levels the body of the kaiju, turning it to dust. Nearby homes, the remains of the helicopter, and the body of the unconscious Immortal are sent flying through the air. 

Mark sees the figure of his mother, clutching onto his father, in the center of the light. His mother crumbles away into ashen flakes, and his father roars like an animal. Everything is dizzy for a while, until the sky finally phases back into blue. Birds drop out of the sky en masse, their pitiful smacks against the grass like the raindrops of the end of the world. Mark shrieks, ripping the device on him to shreds as he runs to the crater where his parents were. His father kneels there, blood dripping from his nose, looking down in disbelief at the scattering dust. 

“She’s gone, Mark,” his father whispers, before his gaze snaps up to him, any shred of humanity torn away. Omni-Man grapples onto his shoulders, tearing into his skin with a feral cry. “You—you let them KILL HER, Mark, because you wouldn’t HELP me! Do you see what you’ve done, Mark?” Omni-Man barrels punches into his chest repeatedly, pounding into his ribs as he sobs. “You threw away EVERY gift, every opportunity, and now your mother is GONE!” 

Not me, you, Mark wants to scream through the pain. But he can’t. Nolan continues to barrel into him, and the sky goes violet again. Being hit by the beam is like every individual cell of his body has violently been replaced, tearing into each other like a feast for the hungry. Mark wants everything to stop. He can’t take it anymore. When the light is gone, his father gasps and aches through the pain, and Mark feels his breaths getting shallower. Omni-Man lifts him into the air, dragging him along by the hem of his elastic shirt. He booms across the sky with a crack, time going at an agonizing pace. “I’ll make you understand what you’ve done, son.” His father rambles, “I’ll make you see why you can’t stop me.” 

Mark begins to scream for Cecil’s help when he knows where they’re going. He sees the familiar roof from a few blocks away, a wide hole in the ceiling. He begs for all he’s worth, calling out for anyone he’s ever considered to be anything in his whole, miserable life. 

“Please, Cecil, send the Guardians! Send Robot! Kate! Eve! Anyone, please, NO! Don’t let him do this!” Mark bawls, Omni-Man continuing his march towards the death of Mark’s world. Nobody comes, and all Mark hears is static. 

They descend through the ceiling miserably slow, shards of wood splintering into their feet. William stares up in abject fear, stumbling back against the bedroom wall. “Mr. Grayson—Omni-Man—hrrk!” Mark is tossed to the floor, coughing up what feels like lungs worth of blood. Mark scrambles to get up, watching the fist tighten around William’s neck. “Mark, don’t look. Don’t watch.” Tears cascade down his face, a teasing smirk on his lips. “What, can’t you hear me? It’s gonna be okay, Mark.” Omni-Man squeezes.

Mark screams his name, and watches William die. His lifeless body, throat gouged with his father’s bare hands, seeps blood into the carpet. The love of Mark’s life is lifeless, and Mark’s humanity is gone. Omni-Man turns to his son, and light seeps into his eyes, clarity freeing his clouded mind. “I—what did I—no, no!” Nolan points a finger at Mark. “It didn’t have to be this way, Mark! I tried so hard to make it different!” Omni-Man falls to his knees, his head clutched between his hands.

”Mark, my son—oh God, I’m so sorry.” Omni-Man breaks, after years of corrosion, years of wearing away at his loyalty. Viltrum is no longer in his heart. Not as much as him, as his mother. “…She was right, you know?” Your mother.” He lets out a hollow chuckle. “I shouldn’t feel this way. I can’t believe I even could possibly feel this way, Mark. You can’t understand what it’s like.” 

His words are pointless, because Mark isn’t there anymore. He’s just watching it happen. He lurches forwards, and holds his father in a vice, his fingers clenched around his wrists.

Omni-Man stares at what he’s created, and resigns himself. “Do it.” Mark doesn't need permission either way.  

Omni-Man is kneeled in their bedroom, coated in William’s blood. 

Omni-Man’s teeth shatter against the weight of a meteorite, the top row of his teeth shoved up through his skull. 

Omni-Man’s fingers are torn from his flesh, one by one, by the revving wheels of thousands of trucks tied together. 

Omni-Man’s intestines are fed to the tigers, pulled out piece by piece. 

Mark kills his father once for every time he ever wanted to. And he does it because in the end, his father lets him. 

It takes him three weeks before he collapses from exhaustion, dozens of cities coated in the corpses that got between him and his father. The globe’s news outlets regard him as a terrorist, and he hears screams wherever he flies above. 

The Pentagon housing the GDA is hit with the equivalent force of a nuclear bomb. Mark tears Cecil into pieces with his bare hands, as Robot and the Guardians can do nothing to stop him. They don’t even try. The noise machine Cecil made is disabled by Robot, when Mark finds the real body hidden away inside his drone. In exchange, he doesn’t kill Robot. 

But he still thinks about it, for the way the Guardians didn’t come to help him. For the sound of William’s crying before he died.

__

The Viltrum Empire comes within a year, and at first, it’s one woman. Anissa, she claims, and she demands to know where Nolan is. “I killed him.” Mark whispers, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“You conquered your father? You…that is impressive. He must have faltered in loyalty, then.” Anissa regards him with a respectful nod. “You’ve done great work in keeping our people strong. This world will prosper under our rule.”

Mark scoffs. “I don’t give a shit what you do to this planet.” 

Anissa narrows her eyes, but retreats, telling him that she’ll be back with reinforcements.In the meantime, Eve and Robot champion the Guardians into a defense against Earth, and they are desperate for his help.

“With your strength, we stand a chance,” Robot pleads. “I know that I was helpless before, but I’m ready to fight for our world now. We were friends, close friends. Please, Mark. You’re our only chance.”

Eve glares, “You’ve done monstrous things. This is your only shot to finally make things right, Mark. To atone for what you’ve done to so many people.” 

Mark stares between them, eyes glassy. “Robot. You heard me, that day, on Cecil’s channel. I know you did.” Robot—Rudy—glances down at the ground, his young face world-weary. He cannot deny it. Mark takes his chin in his hand, and lifts it to his eyes. “I hope they tear you to pieces.” 

Five Viltrumite Soldiers show up the next month. Lucan, Anissa, Conquest, Thula, and Vidor. Mark knows each of their names, because they each carve their own name into the blood of the Earth with innocents. Mark watches them tear Kate to pieces hundreds of times, and watches Eve try to keep them at bay with faltering barriers. He watches Rex kill himself to buy the others more time, the explosion blowing Vidor to pieces. The other Viltrumites relish his death, calling him weak.

None of it makes him feel any better. His mom is still dead. William is still dead. It’s just that the rest of his friends are dead now, too. 

__

Mark spends most of his time in his old house. The other Viltrumites pay him little mind, so long as he doesn’t interfere. They have millennia to get him on their side, after all, and from what Mark has figured out, they’re aren’t nearly as many of them as he thought. He stares at the old carpet most days, watching the dried bloodstains. Sometimes he talks to William, and sometimes, he cries. 

The carpet turns green, once. The world breaks and bends, and through it, comes a man that Mark feels he recognizes. At least he would, if not for the horrifying amalgamation of brains attached to his disgusting head. The man extends his grotesque arm, offering him his hand to shake. Mark doesn’t move.

“Mark Grayson,” the man introduces, “I am Angstrom Levy, and I have an offer for you.”

Mark looks at him, bored. “I don’t want anything but to watch the world burn.” Angstrom smiles devilishly. 

“I can make that happen for you.” 

__

Mark Grayson watched dozens of himself tear the Earth to pieces in less than three days. The death toll is insurmountable, the largest massacre in human history. He travels to every site, every wound, trying to mend them as best he can. Others come with him, heroes like him who still believe in a better world.

They find another hero disemboweled, with his guts ripped out and his face beaten into a pulp. His limbs are mangled and distorted, torn apart like a voracious predator devouring their prey. Mark has seldom killed anyone, but even when he thought he had his mother’s murderer in his grasp, it was never like this. It was never so carefully torturous, so carefully deliberate. 

“The person who did this wasn’t you, Mark,” Oliver says, grasping his big brother as the tears stream down his face. 

“I really hope not, Oliver,” Mark smiles, ruffling his hair. “I really do.”

Notes:

I warned you.
P.S When the work changes between present and past tense, it's totally intentional. Trust me. You can go back to crying, now.

3/16/25 edit: revised william-nolan scene to be more in character and more impactful. and also to line up with more things in future parts.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Broken Boy (how does it feel)?