Take Me Back to Yesterday

by SpiceFright

Summary:

It left his words quick and easy. He meant it. He wanted to kill his father. He wanted to be the one to rip apart the white and red suit as he tore his father apart limb from limb. Mark has never had these thoughts before, but yesterday had changed him.

“Will I be trained?”

“Yes.”

Cecil saw no point in lying anymore.

“Will you train me?”

“Yes, and many others.”

The ten year old stood up, looking at Cecil with dark, grieving eyes.

“Then train me.”

If his father wanted a Viltrumite soldier, then he will become a soldier.

Chapter 1: Chapter One

Notes:

WOOHOO I fell in love with the idea of GDA Mark and Rex growing up together, so I created this fic with that exact idea! I only put 15 chapters because I don't know how long or short it'll be, but I hope I'll be able to get everything down in order with these two :D

His mother was dead.

 

The little boy wasn't at fault, not this time. There was nothing he could do to prevent it. What else is a child supposed to do against his father? But even so, Mark felt the guilt pile onto him like bricks, crushing down on him as he reached for anyone to help, but not a single soul came. Instead, he was left to sulk away in an empty hallway surrounded by white walls. He wasn't really familiar with the place; maybe his mother had mentioned a workplace that looked like this once or twice, but overall nothing was sticking out to the ten year old.

 

Cecil, that's what the man calls himself, was having a discussion with someone else. They looked like agents Mark saw in movies, and it made him curious if real life was anything like the movies. If there were high-speed tech functioning right below Mark’s feet, running cosmic blasts tests in a lab built to explode any day. He wondered if there were gadgets under there that no one was allowed to touch or else they'd be forced to disappear forever, or if heroes were the only people allowed to touch them and use them in battles.

 

He wondered if they had machines that could bring anyone back to life.

 

“Mark?” The older man, Cecil, cautiously made his way over to the kid. Mark looked up at him, puffy eyes dry of any more tears, and wiped his nose. Cecil took a small handkerchief and held it out to the boy, who carefully took the yellow and blue piece and held it up to his still runny nose, tearing his eyes away from the strange man. Cecil took the seat next to him, looking down at the orphan with a saddened expression. He waited for the kid to say something to him first, but Mark only stared at the ground with a cold expression, something you never want to see on someone as young as him.

 

“I'm sorry, Mark.” Cecil hesitantly reached around and wrapped his arm around Mark's shoulders. “I thought we had enough time. I didn't… your mother would be glad to know she ended up protecting you until the very end.”

 

His mother. Debbie Grayson. The person Mark had loved more than anything in the world. She was gone. She was dead. There was nothing Mark could do but watch as his mother's body shielded him from his father. He could have done something. He had the abilities to do something to save her. But he was only frozen, dark teary eyes watching as she screamed for him to run before the final blow to her back was made by the man he used to look up to. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he felt someone pick him up in their arms and run out of the house, cradling him against their chest, trying to cover his sight as much as possible as more strangers ran into the house. Shouts and gunfire were the only things he heard until he was suddenly in a completely different place, the white walls staining his memories like the blood that had covered his home’s.

 

“Where is my dad?” Mark choked, moving the handkerchief away and looking up at Cecil. “Where is he?”

 

Cecil swallows, his eyes soft but his expression unreadable. His grip tightens on Mark's shoulder, but not enough to hurt. “He left Earth.”

 

Mark blinks. “He left? As in, he's just gone?”

 

Cecil nods. “But we expect he'll be back. Eventually.” He sounds almost confident, as if it would happen at any minute. Mark sits back and pulls his knees to his chest, staring at the wall across from him. It was white, a pretty dull color that used to match his living room nicely with all of his home's decorations. Now, he almost can't stand looking at it, but he had nowhere else to look. What else can he look at? The red rose that was slowly dying down the hall? The occasional passing security guard with black and blue patterns plastered all over their body that would leave within a second after Mark had caught a glimpse of them? He was merely surrounded by white. Just white. Even Cecil's hair looked white in the lighting.

 

Mark is starting to realize he hates the color white. White was the only color of his walls before his mother's blood painted them red. White was the color of his father's suit, at least parts of it, that used to bring courage and bravery to the world when they needed him the most. White and red were the colors of his father. White and red were the colors of Omni-Man, and they were the colors he last saw his house coated in before he was brought here. The walls were white. The dying rose was red.

 

Mark doesn't like the colors white and red.

 

“Mark?” Cecil shook his shoulder a little. The young boy snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the older man again, wiping away a few tears. Cecil frowned but looked sympathetic. “Did you hear me?”

 

“Huh?” Mark blinked; his head started to pound painfully within his skull. “I'm sorry, I was… thinking. What is it?”

 

“Well, we looked into your family records,” Cecil’s other hand tugged at the collar of his suit, “and we found you don't have any remaining living relatives left.”

 

Mark nods. His grandpa was the only family member he knew from his mom's side before he died a year ago. He was a nice old man; he let Mark stay up past his bedtime whenever he came over, and he constantly gave him piggyback rides to and from the store and home. Mark misses him, but he didn't really comprehend his death until the funeral. He just stayed by his mother the entire time as family friends sent their condolences, and that was it. He didn't realize how alone he was until today. His mother was dead. His father was gone. Mark's eyes watered up again.

 

Cecil pulled him close, his hand moving from his shoulder to his head as his fingers brushed through the soft black hair. “I know, I know. Let it out, kid.”

 

He already has, and yet it doesn't feel like enough.

 

“Am I going to an orphanage?” The young boy asks, looking up at Cecil again. “I heard that's where kids go when their families die.”

 

“No.” Cecil's breath became drier. “No, uh, you're not going to an orphanage, kid. Your mother wouldn't want that.”

 

His mom. Mark's body felt like it was going to crumble into pieces at any moment. He wanted to go back to tomorrow, when everything was fine. He would be running around the yard, throwing his hands up in the air and laughing as his mother chased him not too far behind, pretending to be a monster that would devour him once she had him in her arms. And when she did, she would pretend to “gobble him up,” as she phrased it, and he would shriek and laugh while yelling for her to let him go. That was his yesterday. He wanted to go back to yesterday.

 

“Then, where am I going?” Mark sniffed, clenching the handkerchief close to his chest. “I don't have a home anymore.”

 

Cecil licked his lips, seemingly nervous and choosing his next words wisely in his head. “I was thinking… you're a unique kid, Mark. An orphanage or a normal home wouldn't be the best fit for you.”

 

Mark blinked, staying silent as Cecil continued.

 

“Because of your… abilities, they're similar to your father's due to your heritage.”

 

“My Viltrumite heritage?” Mark bluntly said. He knew of his father's origins last year, when he finally thought it was appropriate enough to tell the young boy who he was. That was one of the best nights of Mark's life, at least it used to be. Yesterday changed that perspective for life.

 

“Yeah.” Cecil nods. “Yeah. Viltrum in general. With yesterday's events, I thought it'd be better if you stayed with me.”

 

Mark stared at him. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel about that, but where else is he supposed to go? His home was destroyed. His mother was dead. She was dead. He had no one.

 

“Stay with the GDA.” Cecil’s tone was softer now. “We can help you. We can keep an eye on you and your powers until you get better control of them.”

 

“GDA?” Mark's brows furrowed. “Isn't this a place where they train superheroes?”

 

“... Yes.”

 

Ah. Mark couldn't be left alone even if he wanted to. He couldn't go to a normal family to live a normal life or be left alone in a filthy orphanage until he was eighteen and kicked out and forced to fend for himself in a world that was already cruel. He wasn't like anyone else. It was the reason why his father killed his mother in the first place.

 

“Am I going to kill my dad one day?”

 

Cecil's body tensed. “I wasn't planning to–”

 

“I want to.”

 

It left his words quick and easy. He meant it. He wanted to kill his father. He wanted to be the one to rip apart the white and red suit as he tore his father apart limb from limb. Mark has never had these thoughts before, but yesterday had changed him.

 

“Will I be trained?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Cecil saw no point in lying anymore.

 

“Will you train me?”

 

“Yes, and many others.”

 

The ten year old stood up, looking at Cecil with dark, grieving eyes.

 

“Then train me.”

 

If his father wanted a Viltrumite soldier, then he will become a soldier.

 

____

 

Three weeks had passed since that very night. Nolan and Debbie Grayson were declared deceased, and Mark Grayson was “moved out of state” to live with long-distant relatives in another country. Mark didn't mind, but it hurt a little when he was told he wasn't allowed to see William anymore. He was his best friend, and knowing he'd never see him again left a pit in his stomach. But he didn't complain or fight Cecil about it. Maybe he should have. Maybe he would have won.

 

Instead, he adjusted to his new life. He got his own room in the facility, specifically requesting that it be anything but white and red. Cecil had it manufactured into Mark's old room; grey-green walls, a comfortable bed with a yellow blanket, a mini TV, a closet, and even some of his old collectibles. The only thing that was lacking was a window, but Mark couldn't bring himself to care. He was given new clothes to match the GDA better. They were a mixture of dark grey, black, and blue. Cecil caught on quickly that Mark wanted nothing with white and red. The young boy's scowl was enough to give him a hint on the Viltrumite's opinions on the colors.

 

The first week was for Mark’s adjustment. Cecil allowed the boy to explore certain places in the building, following him around as Mark noted everything he found. The food wasn't the best, in all honesty, but Mark decided not to complain and ate whatever was given to him. He watched TV at night, purposely watching shows that didn't have any violence in their ratings.

 

The second week was when the testing started. Mark's blood was drawn more times than he can count. His body was measured in and out, running scans over him to see if there's been anything abnormal or standoffish in the boy’s body, despite him telling them he feels completely normal. He was given foods and drinks that he'd never heard of to see if his body would have any different reactions to them, but once more, he felt fine, and his body functioned perfectly.

 

By the third week, Mark was being taught how powers and morals go hand in hand. Cecil was careful with his words when describing certain heroes, like the Guardians of the Globe. And corruptive villains like Killcannon, who take advantage of their powers to hurt others. He was saying this to Mark himself, sitting in the boy's room with a few comic books he picked up along the way. Mark's next testing wasn't for another hour, so he thought he would start educating the half-alien about the real world with superheroes all around them.

 

“Everyone should use their powers for good,” Cecil says as Mark flips to the next page of his comic book, “but some people would rather take advantage of the weak. Even we have to step in and stop them ourselves sometimes.”

 

No one stopped dad.

 

“Why do people hurt each other?” Mark questions, placing his book down in his lap. “It's cruel.”

 

“I know.” Cecil sighs. “But not everyone thinks the same. Some people just do it for the fun of the game, you can't always–”

 

There was a soft knock at the door. Mark saw Cecil’s face shift in annoyance, glaring at the door.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Sir?”

 

Mark perked up at Donald's voice.

 

“There's someone here to see you.” Donald said on the other side of the door. “It's important.”

 

Cecil sighs, standing up and looking down at the young boy. “I'll be right back, then we'll go run the tests.”

 

Mark nods and waits for Cecil to exit the room. He hears the man say something snappy to Donald as they make their journey down the hallway. He waits until their voices are faint, then the curious boy gets up and, very carefully, lifts himself in the air and glides to the door. He clicks it open, looking around for anyone coming this way, then follows in the direction where Donald and Cecil disappeared. He knew the halls pretty perfectly at this point, as he would sneak out at night to look at the stars or go on a quick midnight run for a snack from the cafeteria since Tom always forgot to lock the door.

 

He heard Cecil's voice ahead and slowed his pace, stopping himself from cutting the corner completely and holding onto the wall for better support. He was still getting used to the feeling of being able to fly, as he wasn't necessarily good at controlling his speed either or landing or doing anything that would involve less pain.

 

Slowly, he placed his hands on the wall and carefully peeked over, making sure he didn't accidentally float upside down again and get stuck for five minutes like last time. He saw Cecil and Donald up ahead, their backs turned as they held a conversation with a man Mark didn't recognize. His brows furrowed slightly, cocking his head to the side as their voices echoed in the hallway. Mark couldn't understand what they were saying at first, since they were talking so quietly, but the stranger started to get louder as the conversation continued.

 

“I don't expect a clear answer, Cecil,” the stranger spat, “but here I think you're fit to run the GDA, only to find out you took in the only weapon that could save our asses in the future, and you didn't think to tell me?!”

 

“You left, remember?” Cecil spat, his voice filled with indignation. “It's my duty to keep everything under wraps, so I'm doing what I was assigned to do!”

 

The men continued to argue. Mark would have been paying attention if it weren't for the smaller figure standing off to the side with his arms crossed and staring off into space like this was a normal Tuesday afternoon for him. Mark's eyes stayed on the strange boy, too far away to make out any distinguishing features other than the fact his hair was a dark reddish-brown color and he may be around the same age as the young boy. This made Mark realize he hasn't seen another kid around his age since William's birthday party a month or so ago. It made his heart ache, and he wondered about his best friend for a minute until suddenly the strange boy's gaze snapped onto Mark like he sensed the Viltrumite watching him. Surprised and definitely not supposed to be seen in the first place, Mark threw his head back and attempted to glide away from the spot, only for his hands to squeak against the shiny blue wall as he fell backwards and hit the hard ground below.

 

“What was that?” He heard the stranger question, a bit of poison in his voice.

 

“I dunno, some guy was peeking over there.” A younger voice replied back. It must be from the boy who saw him. Mark quickly scrambled to his feet, ready to take off, only for the stranger to appear in front of him in seconds. The young boy froze, staring up at the stranger like a deer in headlights.

 

“Oh, you must be the case.” The man said coldly, staring down at Mark. “You're younger than I thought you'd be.”

 

“Radcliffe.” Cecil came in between the two, shielding Mark from the other man's gaze. “You said you came here to talk business. Well, I'm all ears, but he has somewhere to be.”

 

In an instant, Mark felt a soft hand grab his shoulders and nudge him away from the intimidating men. He didn't argue or squeak a word, just followed Donald down the hallway towards the testing chambers. He didn't have to look back to feel the four pairs of eyes watching him leave. As soon as Mark turned the corner with Donald, he slowly glided up again and went a little further ahead of the agent.

 

“Uh, Cecil said no flying in the–” Donald’s attempt to warn Mark was short-lived as the Viltrumite continued to go down the long hallway in hopes of getting this test over with.

 

____

 

He's been here an hour, and he was getting agitated.

 

Mark sat on the cold steel table as another scientist stuck a needle inside his arm. It didn't hurt that much, but Mark still winced. Cecil said it would be easy testing today, but the needles, sphygmomanometers, and occasional light in his eyes were only annoying him. This feels like a trip to the doctors, if anything. They've already taken his blood numerous times and tested the pressure of it as well. What more do they need?

 

“Are we almost done?” Mark whined.

 

“Yes.” The scientist said, but didn't look at Mark. The boy groaned, his shoulders slouching as he stared off at the wall. He would rather watch cartoons or Cecil yell at Donald again for something dumb than be here. Cecil said he wasn't ready to train yet, saying something like he was too young or he wasn't careful with his powers. Mark knew he was young, far too young, but Seance Dog was young too when he was trained. If he could do it, Mark can do it.

 

He heard the door behind him slowly open, but he didn't bother to turn around. It was probably another scientist about to stick another large needle inside him and have another copy of his blood for the fiftieth time before he was allowed to leave.

 

Tap

 

He rolled his hands in his lap, feeling his mood drop by the second the longer he was in here. Cecil said this weekend they can go to a fair to make up for all the time waiting, but that sort of felt like a lie.

 

Tap tap

 

Mark looked at the scientist in front of him again. He was still fidgeting with something on the desk, and it annoyed Mark simply because he wanted to leave and forget about this for a night or two so he could have some peace of mind–

 

Tap tap tap tap tap TAP

 

Mark's mind snapped back into reality, and he looked around the room with wide eyes. He blinked for a second, peeking over his shoulder to see if that's where the source of tapping was coming from. He didn't see anyone behind him, that was strange– then Mark felt the tap on his wrist, and he glanced down. There, he saw a pair of dark, crystal-clear green eyes staring up at him. Mark stared back at him, not expecting to see the boy from presumably earlier.

 

“Uh…” Mark clenched his shirt. The strange boy wiggled his eyebrows, then tilted his head towards the door. Mark blinked, raising a brow. The boy’s hand came into view, and he motioned for Mark to follow. Mark mouthed ‘I can't’ and pointed in front of him. The boy, unsatisfied, rolled his eyes and ducked out of sight.

 

The Viltrumite sat there in confusion, wondering if the stranger had some weird teleporting magic when suddenly, he heard sizzling from behind and then a low boom. He jumped, whipping his head around to see a part of the table had blown up. The scientist, in shock, ran over to the mess and looked over it, mumbling curses under their breath. Mark didn't even have time to comprehend what just happened before he felt a strong grip grab his wrist and yank him off the table. Mark doesn't know why he just let it happen, but he allowed the strange boy to pull him out of the room and run straight down the hallway, snickering as they made their escape.

 

“Dude left his scalpel on the floor.” The boy said as they turned a corner. “Can't believe someone like him works here.”

 

Mark, still in a state of confusion, just allowed the boy to drag him across the facility until they suddenly came to a complete stop in the welcoming area. Mark felt the strong grip release and watched as the stranger went over to one of the plants and reached behind it, pulling out what appears to be a brown sack of… something inside. Mark frowned as the other boy made his way over, smirking.

 

“You can fly, right?” He asks, holding the sack up to Mark. The shorter boy bit the inner side of his cheek, cautiously taking the giant bag. He raised one hand and moved it side to side, shrugging. “Good enough. Here's what we're gonna do.”

 

He grabs Mark's shoulders and turns him around, pointing upward. Mark followed the direction he was pointing at and saw a dangling rope from above. He blinks, looking back at the boy who was grinning widely.

 

“Tie that,” he points at the brown bag, “up there.” He points back at the rope. Mark frowns, looking down at the bag with uncertainty.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because people are going to walk into it.”

 

“How? It's up there.”

 

The boy points to the entrance of the hallway, showing a small rope tied at the front of it, almost hard to see. “That. They'll pull that when they're trying to walk, and then…”

 

He lifts one hand, slowly lowering it on top of his other hand before his fingers connect to his skin, and he makes a small explosion sound effect with his mouth. Mark still stares, and the boy frowns.

 

“You never did this before, have you?”

 

Mark shook his head.

 

“Okay,” the stranger placed both of his hands on Mark's shoulders, and the Viltrumite felt his face heat up, “take my word for this, alien boy.”

 

Alien boy?

 

“It'll be hilarious. Is this place fun?”

 

Mark shrugs.

 

“Is this place boring?”

 

Mark hesitates, then quietly nods. The stranger grins again.

 

“This here will be lots of fun.” He points at the bag again. “Trust me, you'll laugh so hard, you won't even feel guilty!”

 

Mark looks down at the bag, then at the loose rope dangling in the air. He was bored. He's been bored since he's gotten here. He hasn't been around other kids in weeks, and watching TV and reading comic books can only go so far. With a deep sigh, Mark glided up and cautiously made his way towards the string material. He heard the boy behind him give him a small cheer of encouragement as he did so. The Viltrumite made it to the rope but hesitated for a moment. Mark looked back at the boy, who was giving him a thumbs-up, then he took both materials and tied them together. It took him a couple of tries to get a good knot around the sack’s entrance before it was finally hung perfectly in the air.

 

“Good! Now come back!” He rapidly waved Mark over. The half-alien boy quickly flew back, feeling a little rushed, but halfway realized he was going too fast and hadn't perfected his landing yet. The strange boy went from enthusiastic to horrified as Mark neared too close and crashed right into him. They went tumbling across the floors before Mark felt his back hit the wall and then another crashing force hitting him dead on against his body.

 

“Fuuuuuck…” the boy painfully groaned, pulling away from Mark and sitting up while holding his stomach. “How can you fly but not know how to land?”

 

“I just got my powers!” Mark defended him, his face going red. “I haven't perfected anything!”

 

“Wow, that's crazy.” The boy wiped his nose. “Personally, that'd be the first thing I learned if I got my powers, but that's just me.” He shrugs, unbothered by the other child's glare.

 

Mark was about to snap back at the young stranger with something when a loud zyooom zipped through the air, and then a bunch of yells and screams echoed behind the boys as a tumbling noise made impact with the owners of the noise. Mark looked over the stranger’s shoulder and saw at least three workers covered in sweets, cake, and frosting coating them from head to toe, and he heard the stranger burst out laughing before he quickly got up and started to run down the hallway they came from. In a panic, Mark scrambled up and ran after him, looking behind him to make sure they weren't being followed by angry workers.

 

“Holy shit! Did you see them?!” The stranger laughed, taking a sharp corner. “We missed the part where it fell! Shit!”

 

His laugh was contagious. Mark felt his throat bubbling, and soon enough, he was laughing too. They were both laughing, running down the halls until their lungs were wheezing for air. Mark pulled the strange boy into a corner and sat down, trying to catch his breath. The other boy was still laughing, but at something else. Mark realized he was pointing directly at him.

 

“Hey! Why are you laughing at me?!”

 

“Your face is super red, dude!”

 

Mark touched his own face, and it was burning hot. His nose scrunched, and he pushed at the other boy’s shoulder, who still continued to laugh.

 

“Wow! Holy shit, my lungs are killing me.” He was finally taking deep breaths, wiping the tears from his green eyes. “Thanks, bro.”

 

Mark felt his lips curl into a smile. “Uh, you're welcome, I guess.”

 

The boy held out his hand, much to Mark's surprise. “I'm Rex. Or, well, you can call me…” his other hand formed into a finger gun, and he fake shot at Mark, making a sound effect with his mouth again, “Rex Splode.”

 

Okay. He was kind of funny. Mark ignored the weird gesture and happily took Rex’s hand. “Mark. Mark Grayson.”

 

Rex nods. “Mark. Marky. Markus. Mark the man.”

 

“Wha–?”

 

“Nevermind.” Rex pulled his hands away and held them up. “We dealt with that already. Wanna see something else that's cool?”

 

____

 

Rex’s definition of “cool” was blowing up a flowerpot right by the hospital rooms, which ended with the sprinklers being set off. That definitely got Radcliffe and Cecil's attention, and soon the boys were caught and separated. Cecil sent Mark to his room, where the young Viltrumite had been lying in bed for the past two hours. He thought about Rex and wondered if he's in as much trouble as Mark. Cecil hasn't come to see him yet, but never say never.

 

The half-alien boy heard the click of the door opening and soft footsteps entering his room. Mark sighs, waiting for the familiar ragged voice to start scolding him, when instead a softer, gentler voice greeted the young boy's ears.

 

“Mark.”

 

Mark quickly sat up. “Donald? Where's–?”

 

“Nevermind him.” Donald smiled, waving Mark over. “Come on, I have something to show you.”

 

Mark followed Donald out of the room and into the familiar halls. It was eerily quiet for this time around; usually scientists and workers would be passing by, looking at reports or data they found, and paying less attention to the boy. That's how he's managed to get past some of them in the middle of the night.

 

“Where are we going?” Mark questions, tugging on Donald's sleeve.

 

“You'll see.” He smiles at Mark. The Viltrumite started thinking it was another testing session, and he debated whether or not to turn around and bolt in the other direction when they finally stopped at a metal door. Mark stared up at Donald, who gave him a reassuring smile and motioned his head forward.

 

The half-alien boy took a step closer, and the automatic door swung open, revealing a room Mark doesn't think he's been inside of yet. There, he saw familiar dark hair sitting at a table, writing something down on a piece of paper with a very focused look. Mark quietly gasped and went inside, speed-walking over to the other boy.

 

“Rex!”

 

Rex looked up from the paper, and his eyes lit up. “Mark! Finally! I was starting to get bored over here!”

 

Mark quickly took the seat across from him and leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did you get in trouble?”

 

Rex nods. “Yeah, but then they put me in here and told me I was getting a surprise. A weird reward, right?” He booped Mark's nose with the eraser of the pencil.

 

“Is this a reward?”

 

“Dunno, but I haven't been yelled at in an hour, so I'm taking it as a win.”

 

Mark propped down and rested his head in his hands. “What are you doing?”

 

“Sketching out my next plan. It involves explosions. Wanna hear?”

 

Mark smiles and frantically nods.

 

____

 

“They get along perfectly.”

 

Radcliffe's voice boomed in Cecil's ears as he watched the two boys interact with one another. Cecil crosses his arms, his mouth twisting with disinterest at first.

 

“I haven't seen Mark this entertained in weeks.” Cecil uncrosses his arms and folds his hands on the desk. “Your prodigy keeps things busy.”

 

“Like your cleanup crew.” Radcliffe sneers, taking a sip of his whiskey. “But they both seem alright for the meantime. I was thinking of letting Rex interact with kids to keep him socialized; this seems like a good way to do it.”

 

“Just an hour ago, you were yelling at me for keeping a potential weapon under your nose.”

 

“Yes, that was an hour ago.”

 

Cecil glared but said nothing. He sees Mark get up from his chair and go on the other side of the table, looking over at the scribbled drawing Rex had made and showing it to him with pride.

 

“Let’s keep them together.” Cecil says. “Schedule playdates, or whatever the boys want to do. Mark will need someone around his age to keep him entertained and in check until his father is back on Earth.”

 

Radcliffe raises a brow. “You mean keep his humanity?”

 

Cecil nods. The other man scoffs.

 

“A friend? You think a friend will keep the alien's humanity long enough to fight against his dad's side of the family?”

 

Rex and Mark were whispering to each other again. The Viltrumite let out a small giggle, and Cecil straightened his posture.

 

“Yes, Radcliffe, I do.”

Notes:

On the road to a beautiful friendship... And many broken gadgets...

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

Summary:

“You said you'd train me!” Mark suddenly pulled away from Cecil, glaring up at the older man. “So train me! Give me more people like Zandale to help me prepare and become stronger! How else am I supposed to defend Earth if I can't even do it?!”

Notes:

If you saw me upload this chapter earlier and then take it down no you didn't <3

Echo. Echo. Echo.

 

The dark was a dangerous place for times like these. Each step was taken cautiously as the young teen trailed the room, his eyes scanning through all areas of the room he could see. His clenched fist held firmly in the air, the teen took a step back and whipped his head around but saw nothing in the pitch-black darkness. His vision could only go so far before he was met with nothing but the void.

 

Step. Step. Step.

 

His breathing softened, but his heart only quickened. He's done this many times before, but it still felt nerve-wrecking each time. One wrong move, and he would accidentally turn this entire place into rubble. He did that once, and the scolding he got after wasn't even preferable to the food served to him everyday.

 

Echo. Echo. Echo.

 

He freezes. Something is behind him.

 

Step. Step. Step.

 

A spark goes off, then…

 

Echo. Step.

 

The teen dodges as a capsule barely misses his head and explodes against the wall in front of him. He heard the scattering of footsteps from behind, running from the scene, and the teen whipped his body around and dashed into the air, arms outstretched in a blind attempt to capture his opponent. He saw the glimpse of a shoulder ducking behind a mini steel wall, and he took the advantage to fly over it and reach down in one fell swoop. His fingers wrapped around a hard surface, and he lifted the attacker up, dangling him in the air like a sack of potatoes.

 

“Nowhere to run– ACK!”

 

He was trying to sound threatening at first, or his own definition of being cool, but he was interrupted by the spark in the attacker's glove before a rough hand smacked something against his armored chest. He looked down just in time to see a bright yellow light blind his vision. He instinctively dropped the attacker to the floor as his body flew back a little, a small whine escaping his lips as he rubbed his eyes. Only his armor-covered chest was affected by the blast, but his vision was definitely going to be fucked up for an hour or two. He noticed the area around him was pitch black again, and the teen frowned.

 

He heard the small tapping echoing from in front of him, and the boy waits. He was familiar with this tactic; a tap in the dark, and when you go investigate, you get another bomb in the face. The teen held up his fist again and waited for what seemed to be forever. Then, a spark glows, and the teen strikes.

 

He flies right into the steel wall and hears the explosion go off from behind him. He reached out, and both hands grabbed something midair. The teen smirks and rolls his body into the other, shielding the other's head as they hit the ground and tumble for a second or two before coming to a complete stop. The teen catches his opponent's wrist and pins them above his head, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as he struggles underneath for a moment or two before the buzzer goes off in the room.

 

“Damn it! You got faster!” The opponent yelled, kicking the teen’s side to get him off. “I totally blinded you, though.”

 

“Shut up.” He chuckles, letting go of the other teen’s wrist and pulling him up. “You know that hurts my eyes.”

 

“Well, it hurts my entire body when you throw a steel wall at me.”

 

“I didn't throw it… I slammed my body against it.”

 

“Okay, enough you two.”

 

The door in the corner shifted open as Cecil walked into the battle room, a small grin shown on his scarred face. “You did well, Mark. Your speed has increased by forty-seven percent.”

 

Mark shyly looks away, rubbing the side of his neck. It was Cecil's odd way of complimenting him; telling him he's gotten stronger or faster or somewhere in between was always a nice way to bring high spirits to the Viltrumite. The other teen scoffed and crossed his arms, looking at Cecil like he expected something similar to be said to him. Cecil just looked at the teen with slight annoyance but still gave in.

 

“Rex, I'm surprised how much durability you've built.” Cecil says, one of his hands sliding into his pocket. “That wall sure looked painful.”

 

Rex gave Cecil a look, one of his own annoyances that could rival the older man's. “Not as painful as your hairline rece–”

 

Mark quickly covered his mouth. “Thank you, Cecil. Are we done training?”

 

Cecil nods. “You have a big day tomorrow, so it's best if you rest up.”

 

The older man watched as the two teens made their way towards the exit, and he lightly cleared his throat. “Radcliffe gave the all clear. Rex can spend the night.”

 

“Really?!” Mark whipped his head towards Cecil, his eyes shining. The teen next to him beamed as well and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, shaking the slightly shorter boy a little.

 

“Looks like it's a party night.” Rex smirked, but it faded quickly as Cecil cleared his throat louder behind them.

 

“Mark has training tomorrow,” he reminded him, “so he needs a lot of rest.”

 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Rex waved him off, “I heard you, gramps. C'mon, I have to show you something.”

 

Rex tugged Mark out of the room and into the halls. The half-alien allowed Rex to string him along as they made their way to Mark's room. The walls had more color to them nowadays, allowing Mark to look at them more clearly. Before, many years ago, he hated being reminded where he was and what it only reminded him of, but when Rex was here, they were easier to look at since the other teen was so keen on making fun of the dull and wacky colors of the government base.

 

“Just so you know,” Rex said as they finally reached the door of Mark's room, “I had to really beg Radcliffe to let me stay here tonight.”

 

“How many snack privileges did he take from you?” Mark teases as they enter the colorful room. “He seems to hate it when you're here overnight.”

 

“Cause he does.” Rex shrugs, removing himself from the Viltrumite and walking over to the bed. “He thinks Cecil's going to steal me, or something. And he said I'm not allowed to have chimichangas for a week if I wanted to stay one night here.”

 

“Evil.” Mark quietly laughs, walking over to his closet as he detaches the flaky armor set off his body. “He's so dramatic.”

 

“So is Cecil!”

 

“No, he's not.” Mark argues, opening the closet door and rummaging through the clothes he had. “He's just thinking ahead all the time. Give him a break.”

 

“Great.” Rex groaned from behind. “Here comes his number one defender, and it's my own best friend. This world is so cruel to me.”

 

Mark ignores him as he pulls out a set of blue pajamas with purple stripes. He throws the wasted armor down, deciding he'll deal with it tomorrow, and begins taking off the wear from underneath with a contented sigh. GDA clothes weren't perfect, and the training material he had to wear with them was anything but perfect. In fact, they were awful, and Mark hated wearing them everyday, but Cecil said it was necessary. He asked Donald if it was necessary, and he also said yes, so he believes them for now.

 

It only took a minute for Mark to change into his pajamas, letting out a sigh of relief when his body felt relaxed. Then, it struck him to realize Rex didn't bring a bag with him today, which meant he didn't have a change of clothes besides his T-shirt and ripped jeans from when he arrived here.

 

“You wanna borrow my pajamas? I have some spares that'll–”

 

When Mark turned around to look at the other teen, he was met with outstretched arms that held a poorly wrapped gift in front of him. The Viltrumite blinked once, twice, then gazed up and saw the sly grin from the older teen.

 

“I knooooow your birthday was two weeks ago,” Rex did a one-shoulder shrug, “but I just now managed to get you a gift without Radcliffe finding something to complain about. Wrapping done by me as always.”

 

Mark felt his body tense, and he froze for a second. It wasn't like this was something foreign to him; he got gifts all the time on his birthday growing up, mostly arranged by his mother. After the incident, it wasn't like it stopped. Cecil and Donald, as well as maybe three or four other workers in the building, gave him presents each year on his birthday to make up for the harsh training he has to face. They weren't the best gifts, but Mark didn't mind. This year, he received a bunch of notebooks and materials from the two men, as well as new clothes and Seance Dog collectibles that Mark didn't have yet. Not much, but it made him temporarily happy.

 

But from Rex? It's already been three years since they met and known each other, so they knew each other quite well at this point, and Rex was already familiar with what Mark likes and dislikes (he gets them mixed up sometimes). But Rex never had his own money to spend unless Radcliffe approved of it or the teen stole it himself from somewhere before getting caught right after. So, the fact that somehow, Rex got him a gift and managed to wrap it just for him left Mark feeling all kinds of emotions that he doesn't think he's felt in a long time.

 

“Oh, uh, oh wow, uh.” Mark stuttered as shaky, pale hands reached for the blue wrapping and took it from the other teen. “I wasn't expecting a gift today.”

 

“I told Donald to hide it under your bed in case Radcliffe said yes to my little request.” He beamed, pretty proud of himself for a simple quest. “Which, thank fuck he did, because then it would have been sitting there for God knows how long.”

 

The half-alien teen chuckles, walking over to the bed and sitting down, looking down at the poorly wrapped gift. Rex took a seat next to him, crossing his arms as Mark began to tear away the paper.

 

“There's a lot of tape.” Mark's lip twitched, fighting back a smile. Rex shrugs, unbothered. The Viltrumite finally tears off the front of the wrapping, expecting to see anything but what he was actually looking at. “Wait, is this–”

 

Mark nearly drops the comic book from shock, his eyes widening and jaw dropping open as his hands squeeze the shiny material in front of him. “Limited edition Seance Dog spinoff?! Where did you get this?!”

 

Rex smirked and did a dramatic flip of his growing hair, his white pearls shining in the bedroom’s light. “I basically annoyed Radcliffe and purposely did terribly on all my training assignments until he agreed to find this and give it to me. I know, I'm pretty awesome, aren't I–!”

 

Rex barely finished his sentence as he was suddenly tackled off the bed and fell on the ground with a hard thud. Rex wheezed, trying to catch the air he had lost as Mark hugged him tightly with a large smile.

 

“Thank you!” Mark felt his heart flutter. The fact that Rex even remembered in the first place felt oddly comforting.

 

“No problem, bro.” Rex sucked in a breath, fighting back tears from the pain swelling in his lungs. “Just know you owe me for life now.”

 

Mark ignores that last part. The duo spends the rest of the night watching dumb movies and telling crappy horror stories in the dark before Rex eventually passes out. The Viltrumite stayed up a little longer to read the new present Rex had given him, thinking of all the cool references and art he finally got to see. He begged Cecil for this months ago, but the older man claimed he couldn't find it anywhere, or he simply forgot. So, now that Mark can actually enjoy it, it only made his night ten times better.

 

He paused mid-read to look down at the sleeping teen. Rex's face pressed against his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around it as he softly snores. He was wearing Mark's spare pajamas, black with yellow stripes. The other teen smiled, grabbing the top of his yellow covers and pulling it further against Rex. The sleeping teen mumbled under his breath and turned around, his back facing Mark. With a tired sigh, Mark put the shiny comic book down, turned off his lamp, and curled into the covers himself, keeping his own back facing Rex.

 

He kept staring at the limited edition comic book and felt his heart flutter again. What a strange feeling.

 

____

 

“And ten. Come on, kid. Been under there too long for my liking.”

 

Mark breached the surface of the water with ease, gasping for air. He shook his wet bangs out of his eyes, blinking a couple of times before he flew back to the giant ship that awaited him. He leisurely flew down and landed on his feet, moving his arms as Cecil and Donald made their way over to him.

 

“Ten minutes.” Cecil nods, crossing his arms. “New record. I'm impressed, kid.”

 

“I could have gone longer.” Mark comments, sticking a finger in his ear in an attempt to get some of the water out. “I was trying to go for twenty.”

 

“Twenty?” Cecil cocked a brow. “You would have passed out in there, and I'd have to send a team to go get you from the bottom of the ocean.”

 

“Nuh uh.” Mark pouts. “I wasn't even close to fainting! I started counting the fish around me because I got bored.”

 

The older man glanced behind his shoulder to look at the agent observing the two, who was writing notes down from the test just moments before. Mark pulls his finger out and crosses his arms, a little frustrated.

 

“Let me do it again.” Mark basically demands. “I can go for longer.”

 

“Later.” Cecil motions for Mark to follow him as he walks back towards the coverage of the ship. “I have an important meeting in an hour, and you have an important test to take.”

 

Damn it. Mark was hoping Cecil would forget about the history test he's supposed to be taking later that day, but of course, the older man has Mark's schedule down to a T. It wasn't school, not “normal” school at least, but Cecil still had tutors and teachers for Mark when he wasn't training. The Viltrumite thought it was pointless, but he couldn't argue with Cecil about anything.

 

“Fine.” Mark follows him into the ship. “Can I at least know what session I'm doing tomorrow?”

 

Cecil thinks for a moment, nodding at the captain of the ship. “How about this? You can pick.”

 

Mark perks up. “Really?”

 

Cecil nods, smiling as he puts his hands on his hips. “Yeah. You have been doing great, Mark, so take this as an award.”

 

The teen boy beams. “Can I try fighting someone again? Like, an actual fight! Where I can, you know, do this!”

 

Mark punches the air a few times as if he were trying to show off his moves. The older man fights back a chuckle, looking at Donald and nodding to him before bringing his eyes back to Mark.

 

“Fine, but Donald is picking the opponent.”

 

“Wha– why?!” Mark's face immediately gloomed. “No offense, Donald, but why does he get to pick and I don't?!”

 

“Because you should learn to fight someone that isn't Rex.”

 

Well, he got him there, but it doesn't make it less annoying.

 

“Rex is always my training buddy.” Mark mumbles, looking away with disappointment. Cecil and Donald looked at each other, with the older man sighing and deciding to break the ice now.

 

“Rex is going to be extra busy from now on.” The blond man swallowed. “He's on a team now, so he'll be out of commission for the most part.”

 

Mark's head snapped up, eyes wide with a slight pinch of panic in his brown swirls. “What? What do you mean he's on a team now?!”

 

Cecil sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Radcliffe assigned him to a developing team of heroes. He'll just be extra busy, is all.”

 

Mark frowns and looks away, biting back many things he wanted to say. “He just put Rex on a team? We were supposed to be a team.”

 

“I'll get it situated.” Cecil promised, patting Mark's head. “But we have more important business to attend to, alright? I promise Rex’s visits will continue.”

 

Somehow, that felt like a lie.

 

The next day, Mark was tasked to train with this guy that was definitely older than sixteen. The young teen was still on the fence about the whole thing, but he allowed Donald to gear him up and wish him luck on the training session with the strange teen anyway. He didn't recognize him; maybe he was new to the field, just as Mark was.

 

“Uhh, hi. I’m Mark.” Mark held out his hand to the older teen, unsure what to do at first in the small ring they were in. The taller teen looked down at him, arms crossed and face serious, before a small smirk appeared on his lips and he took Mark's hand, giving it a gentle shake.

 

“Zandale.” He said, pulling his hand away a second later. “I heard you're the tough kid of the block; is that true?”

 

“Uhh.” Mark glanced over his shoulder at Donald, who just gave him a thumbs up for encouragement. “Yeah, that's me.”

 

“Cool.” Zandale rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “Let's make this easy and fun, alright? I was told not to underestimate you.”

 

“Oh. Thanks. I was… not told anything about you.”

 

The two teens got in their positions around the big ring. Mark felt a sense of nausea wash over him as the buzzer above went off. He firmly pressed his left foot on the ground before he practically pounced in the air, aiming high above Zandale. He didn't want to hit him too hard, so he only raised his fist a little and headed straight down towards the other boy, throwing the punch against his shoulder with a small crack. Zandale, however, seemed unfazed and only pushed back against Mark. The younger teen staggered in his footsteps, raising a brow as the taller boy cracked his shoulder, nodding his head a little.

 

“Not bad.” He smirks. “For a little dude, you punch pretty hard.”

 

I’m not that short. Mark thinks to himself. And I'm still growing!

 

The Viltrumite rolled his shoulders and lunged at the teen again. He was slower than he usually was, as the taller teen was less covered up than he was. He skidded to a halt and quickly threw up his leg, his shin meeting Zandale’s side and causing him to slightly stumble in his steps, barely catching himself on his feet. Mark starts to worry, as he's made two direct hits on Zandale while the other teen hasn't done anything.

 

“You can hit me too.” Mark jumped backwards. “It's fine, we're supposed to be training.”

 

“I know.” Zandale cracked his lips into a smile. “I appreciate the concern, though.”

 

In an instant, Zandale had dashed right in front of Mark, hovering over the boy and completely blocking the light above. Mark, just now processing that Zandale was flying over him, watched as Zandale raised his fist high above the air and collided it into the Viltrumite's face. The sheer force and action had Mark seeing stars for a second, making the teen go flying and hit against the hard walls of the arena before he flopped on the cold ground beneath. It didn't hurt as much as it would for a normal person, but Mark still felt the hit’s leftovers pound against his cheek.

 

“Ow.” He mumbled against the floor, pushing himself up. “What the heck?”

 

“That's how you hit a man.” Zandale stretched his arms, lowering to the ground. “You took it like a champ, though. Come on, little man, hit me again.”

 

Mark frowned, his nails digging into the ground before he boosted up and lunged at Zandale again. The taller teen dodged swiftly, slamming his back against the wall across with a wide smile before he thrust himself towards the young teen again. Mark dashed in the air fast enough, barely missing the hand that tried to grab his ankle. The younger teen flew behind Zandale and boosted against the air, knocking his body into his and wrapping his arms around the taller teen, hurling them towards the walls. The taller teen lifted his legs and used them to shield him from the impact, then his own hands wrapped the smaller teen’s arms and threw them back with speed equal to Mark's.

 

The young Viltrumite lost control of his flight and twisted his body midair, feeling his ribs crash into the surface below and tears soon well their way into his eyes. Sometimes, training really sucks, especially with someone that isn't around the same size as their opponent. Mark let go of the taller teen and flew up again, holding his side with pain decorated on his face.

 

“You alright, little man?” The older teen wiped his lips. “You seem tired. Getting too worked up?”

 

Mark's pulse quickened, and he soon saw red at the corner of his vision. He clenched and unclenched his fists and once again charged at Zandale. The older teen wasn't fast enough this time, and he felt the force of Mark’s smaller fist strike into his face, letting the teen fly across the arena once more, tumbling on the floor and landing face first onto the dirty ground. Mark paused, guilt washing over him, and he slowly descended to the ground, gripping his shirt as Zandale pushed himself up, groaning in pain and holding his jaw. Mark winced when he saw the familiar red liquid drip from his mouth and onto the floor below.

 

“All right, that's enough.” Cecil's voice came over the intercom. “Wrap it up.”

 

“Sorry.” Mark scratched the side of his neck. “I get a little into the moment.”

 

“Nah, I get it.” Zandale leaned back and sat down, looking at the blood on the side of his hand. “It's not everyday someone makes me bleed. Nice one, kid.”

 

Mark sucked in a breath, looking away with embarrassment while the doors behind him opened. He saw Donald walk past the Viltrumite to go over to Zandale, while Cecil made his way over to the half-alien.

 

“That was a mean punch.” Cecil places his hand on Mark's back. “We’re lucky you didn't knock his head off.”

 

“I didn't mean to hit him that hard.” Mark frowns, fiddling with the lower half of his suit. “He was just… really fast.”

 

“That's why we brought him in.” The older man patted his back. “He can take your punches, at least.”

 

“What can he do, anyway? Other than fly.”

 

Cecil had begun leading Mark out of the room. “He absorbs kinetic energy. He's graduating from hero studies, so we thought it'd be a good opportunity to introduce him to someone who could really catch on to his speed.”

 

“Oh.” Mark looked down at his knuckles, seeing a faint bruise forming. “I’m… not used to fighting someone like him.”

 

“I know, but it'll only be necessary for when… or if, your dad comes back to Earth, you'll have to match his strength and speed for the foreseeable future.”

 

Mark nods, his face changing to a serious expression. “Alright. I want to fight the Immortal now.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah, kid.” Cecil’s brows furrowed as he looked down at the smaller boy. “You just fought someone that wasn't Rex for the first time; we have to build your resilience first before we go further up the hero line.”

 

“I do need more training.” Mark bit the inner side of his cheek, his eye twitching slightly. “I’m thirteen now, and my powers are better than they were three years ago!”

 

“Mark–”

 

“You said you'd train me!” Mark suddenly pulled away from Cecil, glaring up at the older man. “So train me! Give me more people like Zandale to help me prepare and become stronger! How else am I supposed to defend Earth if I can't even do it?!”

 

Cecil looked down at Mark and crossed his arms, his face unmoving. The half-alien boy realized what he had said and lowered his gaze, a bit ashamed by his outburst.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I know, kid. Come on, you need to wash up.”

 

Mark didn't even realize he was sweating until he wiped his sticky bangs away from his forehead.

 

____

 

“I've barely slept in three days.”

 

Mark munched on his diet cookies as Rex slipped into his room, removing his dark jacket from his shoulders before throwing himself face first onto the other teen’s bed. Mark stopped mid-chew, a little surprised to see Rex so randomly in the week. He looked at the calendar next to his bed; February seventh on a Friday. He never sees Rex on Fridays.

 

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Mark continued to chew on his cookies. “Nice surprise.”

 

Rex groaned. “I snuck off.”

 

Mark nearly choked on his food. “As in…?”

 

“Battlefield.” He groans against the pillow. “Wasn't too far from here. Snuck off.”

 

“He'll get mad.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Rex continued to lie there, his limbs sprawled out around Mark's bed. Mark closed the bag of goods and put them to the side before he lay down next to the tired teen.

 

“You wanna try and take a nap here?” Mark questioned, laying his head on his arms. Rex responds with a thumbs-up. Mark rolls on his back and stares up at the ceiling, keeping his mouth shut as he waits for the other teen to fall asleep. He waits. And waits. And waits some more.

 

“I can't sleep.”

 

Rex rolled on his back too, right next to Mark, and stared at the colorful ceiling. “Being a hero kind of sucks. I'm fourteen! I should be going to strip clubs and shit, not stopping a robbery.”

 

“...Strip clubs aren't for kids.” Mark turned his head to look at Rex. “And you shouldn't say that word. It's kind of inappropriate.”

 

“Okay, Cecil.” Rex said sarcastically, yawning. “Anyway, what have you been up to? How's training and all that stupid bullshit?”

 

“I fought a guy named Zandale.” Mark glanced back at the ceiling. “He could fly, and also he hit me.”

 

“What?!” Rex suddenly sat up, his hands holding his body up as he stared down at Mark with a surprised and angry expression. “He hit you?! Where the fuck is he? I'll go–”

 

Mark grabbed the back of his shirt collar and yanked him down. “It was during training, relax. Plus, he got it worse. I probably broke some teeth in.”

 

“Ha! Good riddance!” Rex snorts, moving his arms behind his head. “That's what he gets. Ugh, now it reminds me of this asshole Eve and I were fighting.”

 

Mark paused, slowly turning his head to look at the other supe. “Eve?”

 

Rex nods, his leafy eyes staring up at the ceiling with a tired expression, before they snap wide. “Oh, right. I'm on a team now, by the way. I'm obviously the coolest one there.”

 

“So I heard.” Mark felt a twinge of jealousy in his stomach but quickly pushed it down. “The team part, at least.” He smirks as Rex hits his arm.

 

“Hey!” The older teen frowns, looking away. “Radcliffe said I needed more missions outside my usual and something about needing to interact with other heroes besides you.”

 

Ouch. That stung Mark's heart a little. Even if Rex didn't agree with Radcliffe–

 

“But you're just fine to hang out with! I don't need anyone else!”

 

Whew, but it didn't make anything better. The idea of the two going their separate ways when they officially become heroes, or at least until Mark does, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ever since they became friends, they had many conversations about how they'd defend the world from evil until their dying breath. So, the fact Rex may be too busy to hang out with Mark now made the Viltrumite feel lonely, even though Rex was right here staring at him– why was Rex sitting up?

 

“Dude, you're thinking.” Rex pokes at Mark's forehead. “Did I accidentally hit too close to home?”

 

“No.” Yes. “I was just thinking of your new team.”

 

“You don't even know who's on my team.” Rex smirks, pulling one of his knees to his chest and resting his hands and cheek on top of it. “We're called the Teen Team; super original, right? Anyway, we have me, the coolest member there, obviously. We have Atom Eve, a redhead I met a couple weeks ago. She's pretty nice, and she can manipulate matter or something. Then there's Dupli-Kate, who, you guessed it, can make multiple versions of herself and attack or defend or whatever at once. Aaaaannndddd finally, we have Robot! Who's just a robot.”

 

“Oh?” Mark blinked, sitting up himself. “So, it's basically just a teenager team?”

 

“I don't think Robot is a teenager,” Rex shrugged, “but hell if I know. He's a robot. But the rest of us are teens. Hence, you know, the name.”

 

“I figured.” Mark crisscrosses his legs. “You’re on a team with other people… cool, very cool.”

 

Rex lifted his head, eyebrow raised. “Are you jealous?”

 

“Wha– no!” His face immediately turned red. “I'm not jealous! I just– I want to be a hero too!”

 

Rex burst out laughing, throwing his head back as Mark glared at him. “Holy shit! You are jealous! That's hilarious, man– OW!”

 

Mark hit his stomach. “Swearing doesn't make you cool!”

 

“Okay Cecil– ow! Stop it!”

 

Rex hit Mark back, and the Viltrumite responded with the same attack he's been doing for several seconds. Eventually, the boys erupted in laughter as they fell onto the bed, Mark flopping right on top of Rex’s stomach with a red, teary-eyed face. He felt Rex's hand pat his back, signaling that he gave up.

 

“This is what happens when you haven't gotten enough sleep.” Rex stretches his arms. “You think fighting someone is the funniest shit ever.”

 

“Cause it is.”

 

Mark rolled off, now shoulder-to-shoulder with Rex. He felt their hands briefly touch, and his face had suddenly grown hot. He looked away so Rex wouldn't have noticed it.

 

“You wanna have a secret sleepover?” Rex asked in the dark, now definitely on the verge of sleep. “They'll probably find me in here in, like, an hour or something, but we can pretend it was planned if it's not Cecil or Donald.”

 

Mark chuckles, feeling a smile spread on his lips. “You already know I can never say no to you, dude.”

Notes:

"This is my adopted son's best friend Rex Splode. I think he looks a little gay, but whatever makes my baby happy ❤️❤️❤️" -Cecil

Chapter 3: Chapter Three

Summary:

“I'm not going to mess up.” Mark bites, a little annoyed the older director would think that of him. “I’ve been training since I was ten years old; I can handle whatever it is I'm about to face.”

 

“Do I need to remind you this is your first mission?”

 

And whose fault is that? Mark’s birthday was off to a great start.

Notes:

Now we're off to actual GDA stuff :DDD Mark gets his first mission! Yay! Problem is... It's Mark lol. But anywho! This was probably my favorite chapter to write so far, the dialogue and the relationships were fun to engage with!

Also I kept listening to trolls songs while writing this because Veneer and William share the same VA so it bounces in my head a lot

“Again.”

 

The large metal had already been bending and cracking by the sheer force of an angry fighter, the heavy walls soon to break by the assaulter alone if his determination got the better of him. With gritted teeth and clenched hands, the attacker raised his fists again and punched as hard as he could manage, the noise painfully echoing in the large room. His knuckles bruised less these days, only small scratches or sometimes no marks at all. It was better this way, more endurance, more immunity to painful stings against his knuckles.

 

“Again.”

 

Dark eyes narrowed at the target. The attacker cried out as his arm flew backwards and aimed towards the metal with even more force than before, his knuckles hitting hard against the unbreakable surface. There was a small crack in the middle from the assault, visible for anyone that looked closely enough. He was holding back, and now was the time to go all out.

 

“One more time.”

 

The black-haired teen yelled as he raised his fist higher in the air and swung as hard as he could. His pale knuckles breached through the hard surface, and all the sides came flying off as the giant wall reverted back and bounced off the floor before slamming into another wall right behind it. The attacker heaved, standing straight with his shoulders held high as the room crumbled slightly around him. He waited five, six, or seven seconds until the intercom came back on.

 

“Very good, Mark.”

 

The doors swung open, and two familiar men came into the room. One looked proud, the other quite neutral, but Mark was already familiar with their stances. He lifts his fists up, seeing no scratches or bruises in sight. His brows furrowed, sweat threatening to sting his tired eyes as he slowly unclenched his hands and let his palms breathe. The older man placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the stronger hero with pride in his icy eyes.

 

“Four punches.” Donald says from behind him. “With the first two, you were holding back. The last two were all of your strength put into one.”

 

“Not all.” He admits, wiping a sweaty hand down his face. “I’ve barely broken my record. Another.”

 

“I was hoping we could talk first.” Cecil tells him, giving his shoulder a small shake before letting go. “It's important. You'd want to hear it, kid.”

 

A part of Mark wanted to argue with him, saying it can wait and he needs to train more to expand his abilities, but Cecil's look made him reconsider, so he sighs in defeat instead.

 

“Fine, but let me clean up first.” His voice was strained, but he held the pride he was forced to keep.

 

“And put on a shirt. We don't need to have this conversation with only your sweatpants on.”

 

Mark hurried with his shower and threw on a typical tank top and stirrups before he found Cecil waiting for him in the halls. Cecil motioned for Mark to follow, and the half-alien obeyed, heading after Cecil with a curious look in his eyes.

 

“Tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday.” Cecil mentions, walking Mark down a familiar hallway. “Eighteen already. You grew up too fast.”

 

There was something sentimental glittering in Cecil's voice, looking at the taller boy with a smile on his scarred face. Mark couldn't help but smile back, even if it wasn't as wide as it used to be when he was younger.

 

“You've been through all kinds of training.” Cecil continued, looking ahead of the hallway as workers passed by. “Testing your strength, your speed, your durability; I mean, you have grown to be an absolute unit, Mark. It's impressive how far you've come.”

 

The duo took a turn around a corner, and that’s when Mark realized they were taking a route he wasn't exactly familiar with. He looks around, his nose scrunching at the new area. How has he never seen this specific place before?

 

“Where are we going?” He questions, picking up a step to be shoulder to shoulder with Cecil. “I don't recognize this area.”

 

“Good.” Cecil nods to one of the passing workers. “I kept this hidden from you for a reason.”

 

Mark frowns. “You already forbid me from certain areas already, what makes this place any different?”

 

“Because it's extra special.” They stopped at a green metal door. It was weirdly out of place, as the other doors in the GDA were either silver-grey or a blue-grey, depending on what area someone stumbled upon. But this one? Sticks out like a sore thumb. If Mark had found this place by himself one day, he would think there's some nuclear weapon behind it with a giant neon sign that reads “IT’S IN HERE!” in bold letters.

 

“Okay, now you're just making me think I'm about to fight Godzilla or something.” Mark jokes, but the humor is dry in his tone. He watches as Cecil leans down and allows the scanners to detect his eyes and let the automatic door swish open. “Wow, and a clearance too. You really didn't want me finding this, huh?”

 

“I had it planned since last year.” Cecil chuckles, walking into the pure white room. The half-alien follows, looking around the white void as if he would spot anything in the giant space. “It took a lot of money and materials, probably the most I ever spent.”

 

“What?” Mark grimmed, his confusion only sparking louder in his head. “What costs more than your little–” he wiggles his fingers towards Cecil's wristband, “teleporting device there?”

 

“Sometimes we make sacrifices.” Cecil half-jokes, looking at the teleportation device that wrapped comfortably around his wrist. “That's why I haven't used this as much. Unfortunately, it reminded me how much I hate helicopter rides.”

 

Cecil snapped his fingers, and suddenly the bright void had disappeared entirely, replaced by a dimly lit room covered in black walls, desks, and multiple computers. Mark blinks, his dark eyes moving around the entire room before they land on a pod. Or, what looked close enough to be a pod. It wasn't glass like the others; instead, it was protected by a metal opening with dim colors blinking at the very top of it. It reminded Mark of the pods he'd seen the GDA suits in, usually newer ones that came to replace the suits that had been torn and ruined in battle.

 

“Am I about to be put in a cryptosleep?” Mark questions, walking past Cecil to get a better look at the material. “Because while I appreciate the concern, I don't think it's going to help me prepare for Nolan’s world domination plan he has set in stone for Earth.”

 

“No, we're not doing that.” The older man stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn't put you in a pod, Mark.”

 

“You also said you would take me to that fair. That didn't happen.”

 

“Jesus, let that go, kid. You were eleven.”

 

Mark grins, satisfied with his little joke. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, what is this? Are there a bunch of early birthday gifts in here?”

 

Cecil steps up to the pod himself and lifts his hand onto the scanner next to it. Mark crosses his arms as he observes the action himself, then they shift just as quickly when a soft click comes from beside him and the soft thudding of the pod opening echoes in the room. He takes a step back, watching as the bright light in the pod flickers for a moment before it brightens the area around the duo and a faint glow comes from the material inside. Mark's nose scrunches, the smell inside a little too strong for his taste.

 

“It smells.”

 

“That's because it's new. You'll get used to it soon enough.”

 

“Used to it? I would never get used to–”

 

Mark pauses when he finally looks inside and is met with a black and green suit laid out before him. It was mostly silked in black, but the neck and upper chest area were coated in a bright green color, reminding him of the trees outside. The middle part was spread around the chest down to the bottom of the suit, right where it could pause at the hips. The wrist of the suit was circled in green as well, with the palm of the black gloves having that same apple color. The shoulder pads– could they even be considered pads?– had metal gadgets attached to them, rough pieces that would hold the suit firmly against whoever was wearing it. And the last thing that was pretty noticeable was the helmet that rested right on top; the same one that the soldiers of the GDA wore when they went out on missions. A perfect combination of a hero who lays his loyalty to the foundation.

 

“Wow.” Mark blinks, reaching down and harassing his fingertips along the leather. “Okay, wow. This is… wow. I have no words.”

 

He sounds calmer than he actually is. The growing teen feels his stomach twist at the feeling of the mysterious outfit, and he was trying his best not to jump to conclusions, but he knew his face was giving him away.

 

“I know what you're thinking, kid.” Cecil grins, looking directly at the younger boy. “You can't hide anything from me.”

 

“I wasn't hiding anything.” Mark tries to defend himself, but the sparks in his eyes were easily giving him away. “I just… well, it's a nice suit, and it's in a good size, big enough to really let the muscles fit in, you know? I can't really fathom how cool–”

 

“It's yours, kid.”

 

Mark freezes. His lips twist and curl, and he has so much to say but can't find the right words. He feels his ears burn at the tip, and he couldn't help but accidentally avoid eye contact with the older man across from him. He's silent for a moment, then two, and remains so as his softening eyes look up at Cecil.

 

“What?” Cecil cocks his brow, a small grin forming at his lips. “I thought you'd be more excited about finally getting your own suit. After all, you have been begging me for an upgrade on your usual clothing, and I thought it'd be a perfect–”

 

Cecil stumbles in his steps as a sudden weight shifts onto him unexpectedly, muscular arms wrapping around his shoulders in a tight embrace he had no room to escape from. He felt the younger man's forehead on his shoulder, and he melted, slowly placing his hands behind Mark's back and pulling him closer.

 

“Thank you.” Mark mumbles against the fabric of his blue suit. “Thank you, thank you! I was waiting for you to finally give me a suit, and it's–” he pulls away to look at Cecil, his eyes shining, “it’s better than I could imagine!”

 

“You still have a long way to go,” Cecil patted his back, “but this is a good start. Your mother would be proud.”

 

Mark had to stop himself from choking up.

 

“Happy birthday, Mark.”

 

____

 

The next day, Mark was finally able to try out the new suit. It took him a while to figure out what goes where, and when he did figure it out, he had somehow put it on backwards. Donald kept knocking on the door, asking him if he needed assistance, and Mark was too prideful to admit he was struggling, so he would say he was just giving it a test stretch and he'd be out in a minute or so. Not his proudest moment, but thankfully he was sharing it alone and not with a bunch of eyes peering at him from the corners of the room.

 

“How tight is this thing?” Mark mutters to himself, adjusting the collar a little. He reaches behind himself to grab the familiar helmet, his hand fumbling around on the desk behind him before the tips of his fingers feel the hard metal with a little clink coming from the impact, and he instantly grabs the piece and holds it up for him to get a better look. He observes the helmet for a time, admiring the details that were installed into it. It was made just for Mark, only Mark, and a part of him wanted to feel giddy and excited over it, but he didn't have the time to feel the thrill of the new life he was about to endure as a sharp knock came from the door.

 

“Mark!” Cecil yelled from the other side. “Are you almost done?”

 

“Yeah!” The birthday boy looks down at the helmet one last time before he turns it around in his palms and carefully places the familiar headgear on. He looks in the mirror again and feels his chest swell at the sight alone.

 

For a moment, Mark imagined his mom behind him, a supportive smile wonderfully curled on her lips as her hands tenderly held Mark's arm. She's lit with pride, small wet tears glossing in her matching eyes. The new hero forced himself to push down the thought, not wanting to get distracted yet. Not now. But he made a mental note of his plans for later that day.

 

On the other side of the warm brown door, Cecil stood with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the door, while Donald stood behind him with a patient look. The older of the two kept looking at his watch, brow twitching slightly as he consciously looked at his watch over and over.

 

“Did he get stuck in it?” Cecil raises the question, a little more annoyed than he wanted to give off. “Kid is going to be late for his own birthday surprise.”

 

“I'm sure he's just excited, sir.” Donald reassures, holding his hands behind his back. “He's been begging for a suit since he was fifteen.”

 

“Well, unless he hurries up, he won't get to use the suit at all–”

 

Almost as if he heard them from the other side, the door clicks open and the familiar figure steps out with confidence, holding his head high as the two men get a good look at the boy and his uniform. Donald perks up, his face lighting up when he sees Mark in his new attire. Even with his glasses on, Mark can already see the spark that danced in his eyes from the view alone. Cecil, much like the other man, held his pride high and grinned, his icy eyes observing the suit that held Mark's body with fulfillment.

 

“Not bad.” The GDA director makes his way over and reaches up, touching the side of Mark's arm with delight. “You really look like Earth’s greatest defender.”

 

“Haha.” Mark mocks, his smile heard from underneath the headgear. “I know, I know. It looks great, it feels great, and I bet it'd be great in battle. You got that down, Donald?”

 

Donald paused mid-write.

 

“Funny enough,” Cecil takes a step back and motions for the younger man to follow, “we just got an alert about an attack just downtown of Arlington. The Guardians are busy fighting a world-ending Kaiju, and all other heroes are a little occupied…”

 

He peeks over his shoulder to see the still figure of Mark, whose hands started to shake at his sides. Donald looks between the two men, mostly at Mark to make sure he wasn't about to explode into thousands of pieces.

 

“Well–”

 

“I'll do it!”

 

Mark was already in the air before he was given any more orders. He paused when he heard Cecil call out after him, a warning tone at the edge of his tongue.

 

“Don't go flying off now.” Cecil sighs, running his hand through the last bits of hair he had left. “We need to check a few things first. Do you remember where downtown Arlington is?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Mark's own voice was buzzed off at the edge. “Of course I know where it is! Rex and I go there all the time!”

 

“Where is it?”

 

“...Downtown.”

 

“Mark.”

 

The new hero groaned, shoulders slouching. “I know how to get there! I just suck at street names!”

 

“Which is why it's a concern.” Cecil spits, looking over at Donald and nodding. Donald reaches into his suit and pulls out a small device that Mark recognizes as a drone controller. He groans again, even louder this time, as a mini drone flies to his side.

 

“I'll be fine!” Mark tries to argue, but Cecil wasn't having it.

 

“Enough.” He waves him off, continuing to the next topic. “Does your earpiece work?”

 

Mark brings two fingers to the side of the helmet, tapping on it a few times before a radio-like voice comes through, greeting Mark with enthusiasm. “Hi, Rosalie.” Mark greets, then gives Cecil a thumbs up.

 

“Alright, check box two.” Cecil tells the agent. “Now, finally, what will we do during a mission?”

 

You mean the one thing I never got to do until today? Mark wanted to reply in the most sarcastic way possible, but time was running out, and he didn't want Cecil to talk his ear off before he lost his chance to get into his first real fight.

 

“Stay aware,” Mark holds up one finger, “keep your distance,” then another, “and save as many lives as possible.” then the third and final finger. “Okay, can I go now?”

 

Cecil responds with a stare, as if he were waiting for something else from Mark. The new hero stared back, secretly making a face from underneath the headgear. He waits for a moment, maybe two, until Cecil finally nods and salutes him.

 

“Go on then, kiddo.”

 

The ceiling above Mark suddenly clicks and shakes as it begins to separate and expose the blue sky above. Mark watches as the light beams down on him, welcoming him into a completely new world he had almost lost hope in joining. He peeks over his shoulder at Cecil and Donald one last time, then once the final click is heard, he boosts out of the building and towards the city at high grossing speed.

 

“Keep alert, kid.” Cecil's voice came over the earpiece. “This is your first mission, so don't be afraid to mess up.”

 

“I'm not going to mess up.” Mark bites, a little annoyed the older director would think that of him. “I’ve been training since I was ten years old; I can handle whatever it is I'm about to face.”

 

“Do I need to remind you this is your first mission?”

 

And whose fault is that? Mark’s birthday was off to a great start.

 

He follows the drone for a few minutes longer, annoyed that he couldn't go even faster because Cecil didn't trust him enough to find the location by himself. He gets lost once, and now Cecil acts as if he can't find his way to the bathroom by himself. The half-alien was about to exceed his speed in hopes of finding the rumble himself without the metal junk when he saw smoke over the horizon, right where a small city was located. Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders, Mark dashes in the air and towards the buildings.

 

“What kind of monsters am I dealing with?” Mark questions, pressing his fingers against the headgear. “Like, sci-fi monsters? Other aliens? A mini Kaiju?”

 

“If it was a Kaiju,” Cecil sighed heavily on the other side, “I wouldn't send you to fight it as your first opponent. No, it's uh… the Flaxans again.”

 

The silence wasn't enough to distinguish Mark's absolute disappointment in the information.

 

“...Mark?”

 

“Flaxans?” Mark’s spirit was completely faltered. “Really? They're here again? Don't the Guardians deal with them?”

 

“I already told you they're busy.” Cecil sounded just as impatient as he was. “And everyone else is occupied or too far away. Do you want your first mission or not?”

 

Mark looked at the drone beside him, knowing damn well it had a live camera installed in it.

 

“Fine.” Mark sighs, finally reaching the city. “How are most of them still alive? Wasn't the general, like, super old the last time he came here?”

 

“Well, it looks like he's still kicking.” The older man's monotone voice points out as the army came into Mark's view. The new hero groans at the sight, still not particularly happy this was his first actual mission, but it was better than nothing, and it was his birthday, so he can chalk it up as a gift he didn't want but still appreciates.

 

Mark tapped the helmet, and within a second, multiple screenings flashed before his eyes as it took a quick scan around the area. He whistles, impressed by what he was seeing as the scanner finally catches movement and body heat of a civilian trapped under rubble, where at least three Flaxans stood by them, unaware of the struggling person trying to escape.

 

“You got this, kid?” Cecil's voice popped in one last time.

 

“Of course I do.” Mark cracked his knuckles before diving down.

 

The three Flaxans didn't notice him closing in, only focusing on blowing up a small flower shop for whatever reason they had in mind. Mark halted just right above, straightening his posture and crossing his arms as he waited for them to notice the looming figure above. He waited. And waited. And waited a bit more.

 

“Kid, what the hell are you doing?”

 

Mark sighs, arms dropping. “I don't know.”

 

The juvenile Flaxans whipped their heads around when they heard the muffled voice above. The hero didn't even bother to look intimidating anymore; he swoops down and catches all three in his arms before tossing them back towards the center of the street, where the dark red portal resides. More Flaxans came pouring in, yelling out in a language that Mark didn't understand. He quickly flies over to the rubble and grabs the edge of the rocky piece, lifting it high enough where he can see the woman underneath, who looks petrified. He motions for her to move; she doesn't. He does it again. She's still staring at him.

 

“Ma’am, we have to–” Mark didn't get to finish his sentence before a sudden blast hit right into his side, causing the young hero to nearly drop the giant piece of what could've been a wall onto the trapped lady. She finally snapped out of her trance and pushed herself up, crawling out of the tight space and onto the road. To Mark's dismay, one of her legs was bending in a way it shouldn't be, blood dragging behind it as her open wound dragged around the dirty road. Even if she could move, she wouldn't be able to run.

 

Mark lifts the large broken wall as high as he can and instantaneously throws it at the upcoming group of aliens, ignoring their yells of surprise as Mark quickly picks the woman up in his arms.

 

“I got you.” He says, floating in the air. “I'll get you somewhere safe.”

 

“Be quick, kid!” Cecil's urgent voice broke over the earpiece. “More are coming in!”

 

“I got that!” He hisses, quickly flying higher in the air and towards the quieter side of the city. He halts on top of a random building, gently lowering her to the solid ground beneath. She looks up at him with wide eyes, her eyes darting between his headgear and the drone that followed.

 

“I promise you'll be okay.” Mark holds up his hands, trying his best to soothe the scared woman. “Enforcers will arrive and assist you soon. I, uh, have to go now.”

 

Mark quickly boosts back into the air and towards the invasion that was currently destroying more than half of the small businesses ahead.

 

“Real smooth.”

 

“I'm trying, Cecil.”

 

Once Mark made it back, he saw a few more Flaxans make their way from the portal. He curses, scowling from under his disguise as he looks around for the general of the alien army. There were more than he could count; he doesn't remember ever seeing this much before.

 

“We're running out of time, kid!”

 

“I know!”

 

Mark dove down towards the center of the army and crashed right into the concrete road with a loud boom echoing around the streets. He heard a few remaining windows shatter and walls crumble, and he knew he was getting scolded for that later. But at least most of the Flaxans’ insides were painting the pavement around him with a disgusting purple color. Mark cracks his shoulders and then dashes towards the portal, right where the royal Flaxan stood. He yells out in his native language, and the aliens behind him hold up their blasters and start to shoot at the masked hero.

 

Mark manages to dodge all of the blasters as he nears the general, smirking from under his disguise as he raises his clenched fist, ready to strike. Then, the royal general held up a way bigger blaster than Mark expected and shot it point-blank at him. Mark's vision blurred between red and white as the blast struck him in the chest, the air knocking out of his lungs as he flew back and crashed right into the bloody pavement he had decorated just a moment ago. He coughs and hacks, holding onto his chest for dear life as he tries to bring back the composure from before.

 

“Mark!” Cecil yells urgently. “They're closing in on you!”

 

“I can see that!” Mark heaves, his hands flying up, pale palms slamming on the ground and pushing him into the air. He doubles over in the air, holding his chest with much intensity. He hears the general cry out, and Mark barely has time to register the noise before his side is hit with another blast. Mark grits his teeth, flying backwards, but another blast comes soon again, hitting the lower part of his body.

 

“Mark!”

 

He hears Cecil call out to him, but Mark’s senses were scattered in his brain as he struggled in the sky, trying to keep his eyes open. Then, one final blast was enough to knock Mark out of the sky, hitting the front of his headgear, and soon he began to fall. He heard Cecil's muffled voice yell out orders– he doesn't know if they're for him or for others– in the small space around him before he crash-landed on the road once more. Mark heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching him as the army surrounded the injured hero, cackling at the mess around them.

 

Mark felt a heavy foot step on his chest, knocking out any more air that remained in his lungs as the leader held up the blaster and turned it on, holding onto the trigger as it was about to fire and probably completely ruin the new suit Cecil had made for him. Mark knew this wouldn't kill him, but his body would still react to the amount of pressure he'd felt these past few minutes–

 

Suddenly, the colossal weight was struck off of him as a large crash echoed from above and the screams of Flaxans invaded Mark's eardrums. The beginner coughed and took multiple deep breaths, turning his head and looking up at the blinding sun while thinking, this is the worst birthday gift of all time.

 

In a flash, he saw pink fly over him, then multiple metal figures ran past as they dismantled the invading Flaxans. Ah. Yeah, that makes sense. He heard a familiar voice coming close to earshot, a small whistle following with it.

 

“Damn, who's the new guy? Dude got his shit rocked.”

 

Mark groans in pain.

 

“Wait a minute, I know that groan.”

 

He heard the footsteps speed up, and soon, a familiar masked face appeared above, blocking out the sun with his head. He heard a small pop from the other man above, a cackle following after.

 

“No way! Today of all days?!”

 

The man stepped to the side of Mark and crouched down. Mark felt a pair of hands grab him and leisurely pull him up, and his response was another cough. The brightful hero laughed and clasped his hand over Mark's back, giving him a good shake.

 

“Aww, were the Flaxans too rough for poor Mark?”

 

“Knock it off, Rex.” The drone above flew over the two boys, Cecil once again being the main voice of reason. “Take care of the Flaxans! They've done enough damage as it is.”

 

Rex does a mocking salute, sticking his tongue out at the drone. “That's why I'm here. C'mon Mark, let's try this again–”

 

“No, he's done enough. Mark, head back to the base. Now.”

 

“What?!” Mark's head snapped up, glaring at the drone, even if no one could see. “But I just started! I can help–”

 

“Kid, don't argue with me.” Cecil sounded displeased. “I was wrong to send you after the Flaxans for your first assignment. Just turn back, and we'll find another mission for you.”

 

“Pfft, awkward.” Rex covers his smirk with his hand. Mark turns his head to Rex but says nothing. Then, he stands.

 

“Please?” Mark pleads, lowering his head. There was silence for a second, with Rex looking between the drone and Mark before Cecil's very dad-like sigh hit through the mini intercom.

 

“Help with what you can, then get back here immediately.” Cecil's voice cut deep. Mark was used to it, fortunately.

 

“Fuck yeah! Our first fight together!” Rex cheers, taking out a capsule and running towards the action. Mark sighs, turning away from the flying material.

 

“Hurry up.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

 

Mark hovers in the air and follows after Rex. The other hero threw multiple capsules at the Flaxans as they charged forward, easily knocking all of them off their feet and making his way through the crowd.

 

“Yo! Dupli-Kate!” Rex calls out, grabbing multiple of his gadgets at once and throwing them in the air. Multiple Kates had grabbed the devices and spread out, tackling and cornering multiple Flaxans before the explosives went off, blood and guts painting each and every corner of the once friendly neighborhood. Rex nods to the side, and soon another Robot comes into view, holding a Flaxan down by the throat.

 

“Good morning, Mark.” The monotone robotic voice greeted him. He nods to him, flying higher to the final member of the team.

 

The redhead above captures multiple invaders in a mace-like orb and hurls them back into the portal, taking other multiple Flaxans with it. Mark flies closer to the young hero, and when she turns to face the newer one, her face shifts into confusion.

 

“Hi, Eve.”

 

Eve’s green eyes lit up.

 

“Oh my God! Hi Mark!” She squeals, quickly waving at him. “Did you finally get a hero suit?”

 

He slowly nods. “It's my, uh, first day on the job.”

 

“First day? On your birthday, too?”

 

Mark shrugs, then turns around and socks a sneaking Flaxan in the jaw. “Yeah, and Cecil thought this was a good birthday present for me.”

 

“The suit or the fight?” Eve questions as she creates a wall around her and pushes it around her and knocks all the enemies around her. “Because one looks better than the other.”

 

Mark frowns from under the disguise. “All I’m saying is, the Flaxans were a nice thought, but I've come to realize I don't particularly like them.”

 

“None of us do.” A giant see-through mace appears in the sky, and Eve grabs the handle of it, lifting it high and swinging it towards the invading army. “They just love coming in and destroying everything. Not like we have more important things to be doing.”

 

Mark grabs a Flaxan by its antenna and chucks it at its comrades. “That's what I think, but they just want to overtake the Earth.”

 

Sounds familiar.

 

“Crazy, am I right?” Eve sucks in a breath, wiping sweat off her forehead. “Hey, by the way, are you free later?”

 

Mark slowly turns his head towards her. “...Why–?”

 

Explosions came from below. Mark flew down and caught a few soldiers in his grasp and threw them back where they came from. He hears Rex call out to him, and he grunts.

 

Don’t tell me he's about to make me do what I think he's going to do.

 

Mark peeks over his shoulder and sees the other hero waving him over, a giant grin plastered on his face. The half-alien sighs, shoulders dropping as Eve laughs from behind.

 

“Looks like you're needed.” Eve gathers more Flaxans into cubes. “Go ahead, I got this.”

 

Well, she was doing most of the work anyway. Mark nods to Rex and quickly boosts over, hovering over him.

 

“Are we really doing this now?” Mark asks with a groan.

 

“Yep!” Rex gleefully says, popping the P. “Come on, we used to have fun doing this!”

 

“Yeah, when I was twelve.” Mark snickers, landing on the ground and getting on one knee. “But then you got heavier.”

 

“Oh, I know that's complete and utter bullshit.” Rex wags his finger at the GDA hero. “You’re the one who actually got ripped. Also, I've seen you pick up elephants. Shut the fuck up.”

 

“Swearing doesn't make you cool.”

 

“Shut the frick up.”

 

Mark held out his hand, and Rex placed his foot on it, snickering down at Mark. He nods, Mark nods back, then with most of his strength in him, Mark pushes Rex into the air, watching as the hero flies up with a loud WOOOHOOOO, capsules and gadgets flying from his hands and connecting to their opponents before they set off in a very dramatic, movie-like action. Rex fist-bumps the air as he falls, and a second later, Mark catches him in his arms, holding the man bridal-style.

 

“Satisfied?” Mark asks sarcastically. “We're fighting an invasion, dude.”

 

“Pssshhh.” Rex waved him off as they descended to the ground. “I'm aware of that, but sometimes we gotta live a little, you know?”

 

Just then, a loud buzzing washed through the crowd. In an instant, their opponents began to rapidly age and started to retreat back into the portal. The general yelled out and shook his fist, but was instantly interrupted by a pink whip knocking him into the portal before it disappeared, with no breathing Flaxan in sight. Mark put Rex down and was instantly wrapped into an awkward side hug.

 

“By the way,” he did a joking pat on Mark's head, “happy birthday, newbie.”

 

Mark's flushed face was very thankful for the material on his head, trying to keep his composure as the man teased him.

 

“Don't call me that.” He grunts, ignoring the amount of teleportation around them. “I got nervous.”

 

“Sure.” Rex pats his shoulder, pulling away. “You, me, burgers and fries at Burger Mart, right now.”

 

“Not so fast.”

 

Cecil teleports in front of the two men, arms crossed and brows heavily furrowed. Rex jumps, a small scream escaping his lips as his hand flies to the center of his chest. Mark, completely unfazed, reached up and removed the headgear, keeping his eyes on the ground as Cecil stared directly at him.

 

“Well, that was a bust.” Cecil huffs, shaking his head. “You could have ended up worse.”

 

“Hey! He did… okay for his first time!” Rex glares, pointing a finger at the older man.

 

“He could have gotten hurt!” The director grunts, pinching his temple. “The Lizard League would have been a better fit; I should have checked if they're doing anything today.”

 

Mark sulks. “The Lizard League? Seriously?”

 

“Okay, you know what?” Rex suddenly grabs Mark's shoulders and spins him around. “I just got a call that said Mark is out of work today, and he gets to spend the rest of his afternoon celebrating his birthday.”

 

“Rex,” Cecil's voice was tainted with irritation, “I’m trying to have a conversation with Mark here about almost getting himself killed.”

 

I can't die that easily… probably.

 

“And I’m going to make sure my best friend has the coolest birthday ever.” Rex argues, pushing Mark along. “You can wait the day after, or some shit, but not now. Let the newbie have a break.”

 

“I’m not a–”

 

Mark allowed himself to be pushed away by Rex, looking over his shoulder and seeing the grim look on Cecil's face, but the balding man did nothing. He allowed them to go, turning his back to them (probably to hide away the anger sneaking up on him) as they made their escape.

 

“Works every time.” Rex grins, finally letting go of Mark. “He can never say no to me.”

 

“He has.” Mark chuckles, holding the GDA helmet under his arm. “He just doesn't like picking fights with you.”

 

“I don't believe that for a second.” Rex slumps his arm over Mark's shoulders again, popping his lips. “Anyway, enough of that. You and I have some catching up to do.”

 

____

 

By catching up, it means taking Rex and everyone else to Burger Mart and talking over one another like they're a highschool friend group.

 

Mark and the Teen Team sat in a booth in the corner of Burger Mart. They were in regular attire now, no possible superhero in sight among them. Mark sat in the middle of the booth, silently chewing on his fries. On his right was Kate, sitting next to him while glaring at Rex, who sat on the left of him, making faces. Beside Kate and sitting at the edge was Robot, who just came because he was invited. Across from the giant hunk of metal was Eve, who was pretty interested in what the two heroes had to argue about.

 

“You did not get the most kills!” Rex points a fry in Kate’s direction, then tosses it in his mouth a second later. “Did you not see me earlier? I practically took out the whole army!”

 

“Yeah,” Kate took a bite of her burger, “because you were being loud and hurting their ears with your obnoxious voice. Doesn't count as kills.”

 

“I got a few of them myself.” Eve smirks, taking a sip of her drink. “They’re kind of like bugs; they like to stay in one area and not move until you come in to squish them. Oh, wait, that might be a little dark–”

 

“While they may come off as bug-like to us,” Robot’s voice pierced through the team’s conversation (Rex dramatically groaned over it), “they’re actually genetically similar to humans minus appearance, thus classifying them as mammals. They just come from a different time.”

 

“So,” Rex slowly turned his head, “could they… you know?” Rex connects his index finger with his thumb and inserts his other finger into the hole-like space. “With a human and make a baby?” Eve slaps his arm, and he looks at her like she just insulted his favorite movie.

 

“Precisely.” Robot said slowly, the lifeless green orbs staring at the younger man. “I do not recommend it, though.”

 

“I wasn't thinking of doing it!” Rex threw his hands up, earning a laugh from both Eve and Kate. “That's gross! I'm just thinking of the possibilities if someone did!”

 

Mark stared at his phone in silence. It was already almost three o'clock, yet it felt later than usual, and it left a weird feeling in his gut.

 

“Mark? Earth to Mark?”

 

Mark jumps when a hand is waved in front of him, confusing his sight for a moment as he pulls away from the source. Rex raises a brow and leans back, crossing his arms.

 

“You alright, man?”

 

Mark quickly nods. “Yeah! Yeah. Um… the new Seance Dog issue got delayed.”

 

Technically, it was true. The latest issue is getting pushed back due to unknown reasons, and it ruined Mark's entire week.

 

“You still read those?” Kate raises a brow, snickering. “Aren't those for, you know, kids?”

 

Mark's face finally changed. “Hey! They have moments where the theme gets dark, and you learn a very valuable lesson in life!”

 

“It's still made for kids.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Mark bit into his burger in resentment. Eve giggles, putting her drink down.

 

“Well,” Eve slowly shifts the conversation, “besides that, I hope we can cheer you up today. We were actually thinking of heading to the arcade.”

 

“Oh,” Mark nearly choked on his food, “Oh! Is that why you asked me if I was available earlier?”

 

She nods.

 

“That's okay, don't worry. Cecil will probably want me–”

 

“To hell with Cecil.” Rex covered Mark's mouth, rolling his eyes at the mention of the name. “He can handle a day without getting on your ass. Just imagine it's like old times when we used to stay out past curfew.”

 

“God, don't remind me.” Mark scoffs, but a quick smile appears on his face. “Okay, fine, but I'm not paying for anything.”

 

The group eventually made their travels to the arcade. Instantly, Rex pulled Mark deep into the colorful place and found a couple of games the duo were more familiar with.

 

“Look at you, big eighteen.” Rex chuckles as he hits the puck over to Mark's goal. “Soon enough, you can drink. Then you finally stop getting on my ass for it.”

 

“You're not twenty-one.” Mark scoffs, hitting the tiny yellow piece back. “You really shouldn't be drinking.”

 

“I'm gonna insult you again if you say that.” Rex jokes, almost missing the plastic piece. “Jesus, when did you get good at air hockey?”

 

“I have my talents.” Mark grins. “Maybe you just got bad.”

 

Rex responds by hitting the puck as hard as he could, which causes the piece to slide into the goal and give Rex a point. The half-alien glares, while the other man just smirks and sways his hips.

 

“Bastard.”

 

“You first.”

 

Mark takes the puck out and places it on the mini game, lining his paddle with it. “So, how are things with you?”

 

“Uh, hey.” Rex raises a brow, eyeing the other man. “I know I'm your awesome and hot best friend in the whole wide world, but it's your birthday, man. Let's talk about you.”

 

He leans in, his fangs sticking out of his smirk. “Found anyone cute yet?”

 

Mark's face turns pink as soon as he hits the small plastic piece. “Dude, seriously?”

 

“What?” Rex chuckles, hitting it back towards him. “Is it wrong of me to want my best friend to get into his first lovey-dovey relationship and finally lose his virginity so he can rebel against his evil guardian that is known as Cecil Stedman?”

 

“Don't call him evil.” Mark rolled his eyes, the puck hitting against his blue paddle. “You already know I don't have the time for any of that.”

 

“Sure you do!” Rex argues, defending his goal again. “I mean, look at me, man! Eve and I made it work amazingly.”

 

“You two were on the same team! That's different!”

 

“We still dated! And! Ended on good terms! If I can do it, you can do it! You just need to branch out and find the girl of your dreams.”

 

Mark swallows. “And where would I find her?”

 

“I dunno.” Rex thinks, tapping his finger on his chin. “I mean, there's definitely gotta be someone in the GDA that's pretty– wait no, they would be ten years older than you or something; don't do that. Uhh, someone who is also into Seance Dog! That'd be a match.”

 

“I hardly ever go there unless I'm near the store with Cecil or you.”

 

“Go there more.”

 

“I have to train.”

 

“Take a break.”

 

“I do. When I'm with you.”

 

“I'm flattered, but I'm not your boyfriend, sugar.”

 

It was a joke. It was one hundred percent a joke, and Mark shouldn't overthink it. However, Rex's dumb little joke got the birthday boy to slip up and hit the puck harder than he expected, causing it to go flying across the room and straight into an arcade game machine. The screen flickered as the piece settled into the top of the machine, sparks and glows appearing for only a second before it completely shut off.

 

Mark and Rex stood there in silence, staring at the now broken game that was going to cost a fortune to replace.

 

Mark looked at Rex.

 

Rex looked at Mark.

 

“Run.”

 

The duo bolted from the scene, quickly making their escape out the front door without warning anyone else.

 

“Okay, so,” Rex huffed as they stopped in an alleyway, brushing his hair back, “don't mention Mark Grayson’s love life. Got it.”

 

“I just got a jolt in my arm.” Mark lies. “It's fine; those cameras have been dead for ages.”

 

“Still,” Rex leaned against the wall from behind him, “that could have been bad. I'm already banned from the one by Brittany, don't ruin this for me.”

 

Before Mark could snap back with something smart, his phone suddenly set off an alarm. He quickly takes the small device out, and the color in his face drains. He takes a deep breath and holds it up for Rex when he approaches to see what it is.

 

“Ah.” Rex hisses, placing his hands on his hips. “Alright, um, you want to go tell the others we're heading out?”

 

“You don't have to come with me, Rex.” Mark stands straight, clenching his phone tightly.

 

“Dude,” Rex wraps an arm around Mark's shoulders, “you know I'll always go with you. Don't give me that crap.”

 

The hero sighs and nods. “Alright, let's get going.”

 

For some reason, this time felt more painful than ever before.

Notes:

Just to be clear!! I got Mark's GDA design based off this!!

https://x.com/VIR_DISSS/status/1914823652945559621?t=uadd5GkT-rqWcfgcw58X4w&s=19

Please show this artist some love :))

Also!! Rex and Eve did date in this AU too but broke up on good terms! Rex didn't cheat, it was mutual and they're still buddies

Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Summary:

“Um,” Mark sobered up, sucking air between his teeth with a sharp hiss, “crap, I'm sorry. You never liked to see me cry. I promise I'm okay.”

 

He wasn't, but for her, he will be.

Notes:

*slaps the top of chapter four* this bad boy can fit so many bad memories into it!

Anyway, chapter four here we are!! Recently, I changed the chapter numbers to unknown because as I added and developed ideas, the more I realized how long this story is possibly going to be 🫠 so, at least we have endless possibilities for GDA Mark! He's a very fun dude to write ❤️

“Are you sure about this?”

 

“Relax. It's not the first time I've been here.”

 

Yet, it feels as heart-wrenching as ever. He's been here multiple times, more than he could count, but today it felt like the first time all over again. Rex followed closely behind, keeping his head down as the tip of his fingers brushed tenderly against Mark's arm. It was his own sentimental way of comforting the other hero, even if it didn't seem a lot to others.

 

Mark looks ahead, seeing the piece of concrete he has grown familiar with. He swallows and stills, his hands shaking at his sides. Hesitantly, Rex reaches over and puts a hand on his friend's shoulder, his gaze as soft as ever. He knew the routine of this ceremony, and he knew what to do unless Mark said otherwise.

 

“I'll be at the tree.” Rex mutters, giving Mark one last look before he parted, walking over to the familiar, dying plant. Mark took a deep breath, taking small steps towards the sharp yet shiny piece that Cecil has paid to keep clean for all these years. Mark clenched his stomach; this wasn't the first time. It wasn't going to be the last. So, why does it hurt just as much?

 

“Hi, Mom.”

 

Mark sat on his knees in front of the tombstone, his brown swirls nearly coated in shiny, glossy tears as he read the same words on the grave that’s been engraved into his head for years.

Deborah Grayson

Beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother

“Wow, look at that.” Mark quickly wiped away his tears, looking up at the sky. “The sky is orange. Remember the time you told me the sky turns into orange juice to hydrate the birds? It was a pretty funny time, huh?”

 

He didn't mention the last part. No. He won't mention how after He got home, Mark begged Him to take him into the skies so he could have a sip of the orange-colored atmosphere. He didn't understand what that meant either, and his mother only laughed when Mark explained it to Him before she confessed it was just a silly joke her own dad used to play on her, and she had forgotten He could fly, so it was no surprise Mark would ask Him of all people to prove that theory to be true or not.

 

“So, uh,” Mark looks away from the sky, “I bet you already guessed why I'm here, but um… I'm eighteen now!”

 

His arms flew from his sides, holding them up in the air, like when someone opens their arms expecting a hug from another person.

 

“Eighteen is a crazy number, huh? And Cecil finally got me my own suit! I, uh, already packed it away, so I'll have to show you another time. Sorry.”

 

He could almost hear her faint voice scolding him for forgetting to show her. She, of all people, would want to see the brilliant suit Cecil had put together just for him.

 

“It's weird,” Mark's arms slowly descended onto the ground, his hands brushing through the thick green grass, “the last time you saw me, I was still learning how to multiply in math and wearing dorky Seance Dog shirts. Oh yeah, and I lost a tooth around that time, didn't I?”

 

His voice has begun to quiver.

 

“I think I would be taller than you now. Cecil says I'm around six feet, so I guess I could have… rested my head on yours like you used to do with me. Switch things up a little, huh?”

 

It was a joke, but there was no humor. Mark didn't smile, he didn't laugh, and he didn't look at the name on her tomb. His hands curl into the grass below, his chest starting to hurt as the tears start to return.

 

“It's not fair.” Mark’s body had started to near the ground below as he doubled over. “Why you? Why couldn't He just take me and leave? At least you'd be alive; at least you wouldn't have wondered in your final moments if I was going to make it or not–”

 

His vision blurred completely, his cheeks wet as teardrops finally escaped the barrier he had tried to hold up for himself.

 

“I'm sorry.” The black-haired hero’s body began to shake. “I wish I kept my powers a secret. I wish I never told Him. I wish we got to escape together and live a happy life. Just something for us. Only us.”

 

He was quiet for a long time. Nearly eight years since that day, yet it only felt like yesterday for Mark. He can never get the imagery of the house’s white walls staining with the color of his mother's blood. Or her ear-piercing screams as she yelled for him to run. Or the look on His face as He stood over the fresh corpse, looking at Mark with an expression that was only left to blur in his memories. Mark could never forget that day, yet His face was almost a distant memory.

 

Almost. Almost.

 

“Um,” Mark sobered up, sucking air between his teeth with a sharp hiss, “crap, I'm sorry. You never liked to see me cry. I promise I'm okay.”

 

He wasn't, but for her, he will be.

 

“We're still…” he sighs, “we're still looking for you-know-who. We haven't found any hints or tracked anything that could be Him, but Cecil is trying. Training feels easier nowadays, but I think I should do more. I've done everything at this point, but it still feels like I'm not strong enough to defend Earth, or protect its people, or…”

 

Avenge you.

 

“But I promise I'll be stronger. I'll defend Earth, I'll defeat anything that threatens it, and I'll… I'll be better. I'll be a better hero, friend, and son. I love you, Mom.”

 

The air fell silent around him. Mark slowly stood from his place as his hands clenched and unclenched by his side. It was a promise that no one else would know but him. Despite the pointlessness behind it, a part of it filled Mark with hope and some closure. He couldn't deal with the idea of letting everything he and Cecil worked for go to waste. He'll keep his promise, become Earth's strongest hero, and just hope it'll be enough until that day finally arrives.

 

Mark says nothing as he walks up to Rex, his eyes low to the grassy green below. He hears Rex meet him halfway, already reaching out to the younger pupil before he falls in his arms. Mark clung to Rex, his nails almost breaking through the grey fabric with a force his friend was all too familiar with. Mark's legs felt weak, as if they suddenly became jello and lost the ability to walk on their own.

 

“It's alright, man.” Rex pats his back, resting his head on the other man's shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

 

Mark shakes his head, fighting back tears. “Let's just leave.”

 

Rex hooks Mark's arm over his shoulder and begins walking them to the entrance of the cemetery. The half-human glances over his shoulder at the tombstone next to his mother's, and his pulse quickens.

 

To not cause suspicion. Cecil had said when Mark confronted him about this. He believes Cecil, as it's the only way to show proof of the make-believe story of the tragic Grayson family.

 

Yet, it still left a disgusting taste in his mouth.

■■■■■ Grayson
Loving Husband and Father

What a joke.

____

 

Mark couldn't sleep that night.

 

The newly aged adult has been staring at the ceiling since he's arrived back at the GDA. One arm slumped over his stomach, the other tucked behind his head, and one leg crossed over the other. Usually, an all-nighter meant he had a major training assignment the next day, and he was too excited or nervous to get a lick of shut-eye. However, tonight was different.

 

Thousands of thoughts flooded around his head at once, bending and squashing his brain into disgusting, gooey mush. His pale fingers harshly curled into his soft blue shirt, nearly threatening to rip the poor cotton of the turtleneck pajama. Mark moves his head and glances over at the sleeping man next to him. Half of Rex's face was stuffed into the blue pillow, arms wrapped tightly around the soft surface as he softly snores. His hair was out of its usual place; he'd taken the bun down since they've gotten back, and now the dark red waves were scattered across his face and neck, strands of it draping over his shoulders. He tucked deeper into the soft material, his snores gradually becoming more muffled.

 

Mark didn't smile, but his chest did feel light. The tired boy sits up and rubs his eyes, softly groaning. He took one last glance at his friend before he trailed out of the room and into the hallway.

 

He journeys around the building for a while until he finds the metal door that has started to feel like an old friend. Mark remains silent as he walks through the automatic entrance, walking up to familiar controls and pressing a couple of buttons he memorized a while ago. Technically, he shouldn't be here at this hour. Cecil would scold him for unauthorized late-night training, but Mark needed a distraction, and what else is a better distraction than punching your feelings away?

 

The defender glides to the center of the room, hands clenched and shoulders ready as all corners around him start to produce sounds, the ground beneath shaking slightly, heavy footsteps approaching the superhuman. Mark freezes in his place, head held high, his body ready for the familiar violent dance he's known for so long.

 

The first attack came from the front of Mark, a metal fist forging its way towards his face at a speed anyone else wouldn't be able to dodge. For Mark, this was the standard for him. His head dodges cleanly and, with a side step of his foot, right hooks into the belly of the machine, sending it flying across the dark room with ease. Two more approached from behind, their arms raised high, ready to strike down on the lifeform. Mark cried out as he whipped around and collided his fist straight into the metal body, crashing it into the other one and watching as the homemade robots skittered around the floor like shattered toys. He feels something hard and cold wrap around his arm as he's suddenly hurled into the air.

 

Mark catches himself mid-air, pausing as he takes control of his body movements and spins around, blindly diving after the screeching beast. His hands strike into its shiny face, one of the blue-lit eyes popping out of its machinery head. His other fist struck after, punching its way through what could be a skull and scattering expensive pieces all over the floor. His hand cocks back as his leg swings in the air and connects to an approaching piece of metal. It fell to the ground quicker than Mark hoped for, his pulse rising in his body as adrenaline fully took over.

 

”No! Please, don't do this! Mark, run! Get out! Run!”

 

Mark's teeth clink together when he tackles one of the testing machines. Strong fingers pried the armor open like it was dirt, ripping chunks out like this thing was easy to put back together.

 

Mark stood in fear as his wide eyes watched his mother struggle on the ground, holding her broken shoulder with tears staining her face. Despite the agonizing pain she must have been feeling, she reached out to Mark with a gasp, her voice ragged and strained. Blood had begun to pour out from the side of her head, her once beautiful black hair now drenched in the scarlet color.

 

Mark threw what remained of the body at another test dummy, the expensive piece falling apart as soon as it hit the ground. The corners of Mark's vision began to redden, and he let out another yell as his hand swung back.

 

”Mark–!”

 

The sound of bone and flesh crushing was enough to leave anyone with a sense of survival to run and hide and pray to not be next. For Mark, that was the complete opposite. His wobbly legs couldn't carry him away, his brain wasn't telling him to run, and he wasn't even looking at the attacker to study his next move. No, his eyes only fixated on the new, fresh corpse of the woman he had loved more than anything in this world. Her matching brown eyes stared directly at Mark, lifeless and cold. Her body had already begun to pale; maybe it was from the fear of what He was doing to her in her final moments. Her body twisted in directions it shouldn't have, her own blood decorated the floor and the white walls around.

 

Mark didn't even realize his own clothes had been stained in her blood.

 

“Mom?”

 

“Mark?”

 

The breathless boy didn't turn his attention to the source of the concerned voice. His eyes fixated on the ceiling above, bright lights blinding his vision and only allowing him to see swirling colors as they adjusted. His body was covered in sweat, hands twitching from the amount of impact he had made with the materials that followed. He subconsciously took a step back and felt something sharp hit against the heel of his foot, but his skin did not break or bleed.

 

“Well, good to know you can stand on your own.” The dismissive voice rang around Mark's ears, approaching him with small steps. “Alright, what's this about, kid?”

 

Mark finally glanced away at the blinding lights and at the man he's grown too familiar with. “I couldn't sleep. Sorry, Cecil.”

 

Cecil crosses his arms as he stands next to Mark, studying his face as if he were trying to catch the younger man in a lie. Mark stared at him, eyes drooping.

 

“You don't believe me, do you?”

 

“Kid, I have known you since you were ten years old. I can tell when you're bullshitting me because your ears still turn pink when you lie.”

 

Wow.

 

“It's not a complete lie.” Mark sighs, turning away and marching towards the bench on the far right of the room. “I genuinely couldn't sleep. Birthday jitters or whatever.”

 

“Mark.”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“You're not.”

 

Mark takes a seat and sighs, hands gripping the edges of the steel bench, his back hunched and head hung low. Cecil takes a seat next to him, slowly reaching out and placing a hand on his muscular shoulder.

 

“Come on, kid. Talk to me.” It was almost like a plea. Cecil was used to Mark coming to him when something was on his mind, whether it was good or bad. And right now, it was bad. Mark felt guilty for suddenly shutting him out, as today he was too focused on completely fucking up his first ever mission, visiting his mother's grave, and envisioning a time that would never exist for him.

 

“I'm sorry.” Mark sighs, avoiding eye contact with the old director. “Just, uh, I'm pretty upset about today. I thought I could handle a mission such as… that. I mean, who loses a fight with the Flaxans? They're Flaxans!”

 

One of Mark's hands let go of the bench, swinging itself into his hair and gripping it harshly, tired fingers curling into the soft black mane.

 

“Instead, I nearly destroyed my new suit, and I had to be saved by everyone else. Might as well just hand the Lizard League to me.”

 

Cecil hums and sits straight, his grip on Mark's shoulder tightening. “Mark, do you remember what I used to tell you when you begged me for a mission of your own?”

 

The younger man’s head didn't move, but his eyes shifted to Cecil with slightly wrinkled brows. “Uh… that you would only give me a mission when I was ready?”

 

Cecil nods, moving his hand to Mark's back.

 

Mark grunts, bucking his knees together. “Guess that was–”

 

“Let me finish.” Cecil interrupts. “You were determined to prove you were ready numerous times. You even went behind my back and traveled across the ocean to fight a terrorizing Kaiju that was sinking cruise ships.”

 

“Oh, God.” Mark's face turned a shade of pink. “Why'd you have to remind me? I went the wrong way twice.”

 

“You weren't exactly good with coordinates back then.” The older man chuckles, finding the humor in it all.

 

“I didn't even get to fight the Kaiju.” The black-haired man frowns. “War Woman got there before me, anyway.”

 

“Indeed she did.” Cecil pulls away and crosses his arms over his chest, still having that wrinkled smile plastered on his lips. “Good times. It was a good thing, though. You weren't ready to face something twenty times bigger than you.”

 

“Okay, if this is just another life lesson talk, can we wait until–”

 

Cecil lightly smacks his shoulder. “Let me finish, kid, then you can go on a tangent.”

 

He scoffs but says nothing.

 

“You weren't ready back then.” Cecil says for the second or third time. “However, over the years, you have insanely outdone yourself.”

 

Mark's head finally turns to Cecil, cocking a brow.

 

“Last year, you broke the sound barrier in under four seconds.” Cecil mentions, holding up his finger as he continues. “You have surpassed the Immortal in speed and durability since October; you managed to fly back and forth from the Earth to the Moon in only six minutes, and, well… we have this.”

 

Mark looked at the scattered bodies of some of the most expensive training dummies in the entire GDA foundation. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, examining the mess in the room.

 

“I know I got a little caught up earlier today,” Cecil says quietly, “I just, I got worried there for a minute. But even if you single-handedly stopped the Flaxans all by yourself, I would have still been worried. It was your first mission, after all. You never had a real fight before.”

 

“I have fought.” Mark scolds, but he knew what Cecil meant. Training with people on a mutual ground with basic understanding was miles different than fighting someone, or in this case an entire army, who was planning to take a hero's head as a trophy. “Okay, yeah, okay. I get it.”

 

“You don't.” Cecil gently laughs, his scarred face twitching. “If I thought you weren't ready to be a hero yet, I wouldn't have sent you out there in the first place.”

 

“I got shot, Cecil.”

 

“Were you confident? Or did you overestimate yourself?”

 

Mark paused, pressing his lips together. He looks at Cecil, then back at the machines, then at Cecil again.

 

“Um, I don't know exactly–”

 

“Let me guess,” the older man tilts his head towards the broken robots, “you went in there expecting it to be exactly like a training session, huh?”

 

The new hero completely doubled over, head in his hands as the loudest groan he ever let out echoed in the room around them.

 

“I did, didn't I?” Mark's disappointment was through the roof. “I expected it to be easy, like it usually is.”

 

“That's okay, kid.” Cecil reassures, but there's still a strong grip at the edge of his voice. “Again, it's my fault for immediately putting you on the same line as an alien army. Tomorrow, we'll see what else comes up, and I'll have you try again.”

 

His head snapped up fast enough to crack something in his neck, ignoring how it made Cecil cringe. “Really?! That soon?! Oh, Cecil–!”

 

In an instant, Mark's arms wrapped around Cecil in a tight hug, resting his chin on the director's shoulder as he lightly squeezed. Cecil, stunned for a moment, quietly chuckled and embraced him back, patting his hand on the upper part of Mark's spine.

 

“I trust you, Mark.” Cecil says, looking at the scattered machinery. “I know you'll figure it out soon enough. I can't keep you on the ground forever.”

 

Mark pulls away from the white-haired man, grinning. “You've been doing that since I was a kid, to be honest. But really, thank you. I'll do better tomorrow.”

 

Cecil’s gaze softens. “I know you will.”

 

____

 

Are you kidding me?

 

Mark hovered a few feet above the old Burger Mart market, watching as Elephant Man picked up one of the wooden tables and threw it at some poor person's car. The new hero presses his fingers against the side of the headgear, turning on the scanner and looking towards the small building. There were at least ten people inside, and none of them seemed to care about the outburst that was known as Elephant Man.

 

“Kid, he's still awake.” Cecil mutters into the earpiece. “He's not getting older.”

 

“Just,” Mark sighs, “Elephant Man? First the Flaxans, now him?”

 

“It's a pretty slow day today.” Cecil’s voice was of nothing but complete and utter insouciance. “It's the best one we could find.”

 

“Ugh.” Mark's shoulders fell, and he slowly drifted over to the big man. “You. Stop… throwing benches, or whatever.”

 

“These people wouldn't eat a dog,” The giant man whips around and points a long finger at Mark, “but why are cows seen as any different?!”

 

Thank God Mark was wearing the headgear, because his face would instantly give away how much he's trying not to laugh at this very moment.

 

“I don't know, man.” Mark says nonchalantly. “That’s not really my business. Anyway, you should stop terrorizing these people, or I'll have no choice but to stop you.”

 

Elephant Man responds by picking up another picnic table and chucking it directly at the new hero above. Mark catches it with ease, looks at it for a second, then boosts towards the overrated villain with the picnic high over his shoulder and swings it as hard as he could. Splinters shot everywhere as the hard surface made contact with the villains’ head, sending him flying across the pavement and slamming into numerous cars and the stop sign from behind those cars. Mark slowly lowered the now broken table, gently placing it down as he waited for Elephant Man to get up and start preaching about veganism again.

 

“Jesus, Mark.” Cecil's sigh echoed through. “You were supposed to apprehend him, not put him in a coma.”

 

“He's fine.” Mark cautiously mumbled, gliding over to the still body. “Probably. I had to stop him somehow.”

 

Mark peeks over the body and waits. Elephant Man coughs and tries to push himself up, only to fall right back on his face. “Yeah, he's fine, and I stopped him.”

 

Silence. Mark knew what that meant.

 

“What else was I supposed to do?” Mark argues, flying up in the sky as soon as police cars begin to show up. “He was just going to keep throwing tables at cars!”

 

“You're lucky you didn't break his neck.” Cecil sighs again (him and his dumb dad sighs). “Alright, that's enough. Head back.”

 

Disappointed, Mark turned towards the direction of the GDA and was about to start his flight back when an explosion erupted from just behind him. He whips around and immediately presses the scanner installed into his helmet; a possible level three threat not too far from where Mark hovers, a seven-minute walk from here but only a five-second flight for Mark. Smoke and flames had already started to decorate the sky, blocking away the bright blue of the atmosphere and replacing it with a harsher, darker color.

 

“There's an attack.” Mark says into the headpiece. “I'm going to check it out.”

 

Mark was there in an instant, floating above the wreckage as scorch marks of red and orange spread across the streets below. Civilians had already begun to make their escape, screams echoing all around as they tried to avoid the threatening flames and debris. Within the fire stepped out two figures, marching through the smoke with duffle bags the size of Mark's body. The half-human hero descends closer, and to his surprise, he recognizes the two individuals.

 

“Kursk and Furnace?” Mark's voice echoed in the headgear. “They're here? I thought they were in prison.”

 

“We had some malfunctions a couple of weeks back.” It wasn't Cecil this time– he was surprised to hear Donald's voice suddenly break through the earpiece. “A few of our prisoners had escaped, including Kursk and Furnace.”

 

Ah. Mark watches as they make their way down the street, sputtering curses at one another. “I should–”

 

“No.” Cecil's voice suddenly cut through. “I already called a team to come and collect these two. Head back to our base now.”

 

Are we being serious right now? “They’re about to destroy an entire block, Cecil!”

 

“Exactly, which is why I need you to hang back.” His voice cut into Mark's ear like a knife. “Let the team I sent handle them, and then we'll–”

 

“Cecil.”

 

Unfortunately, Mark's knife was even sharper.

 

“You said you believe I'm ready. You told me that yourself, just last night. Well, let me prove that right now.”

 

Silence.

 

“They're some of the strongest villains out there. I want– need– to prove myself. How else am I going to fight Nolan? How else am I going to avenge my Mom?”

 

Silence, then a final sigh.

 

“You have until the backup arrives.”

 

As soon as the words left Cecil’s mouth, Mark dives after the two villains. Kursk, the more aware of the two, spins around, hands ready, only to meet Mark's fist as soon as he does, causing him to go crashing into the ground, the duffle bag soaring through the air and hitting against a brick wall with a harsh thud.

 

Furnace paused in his tracks; the giant hunk of rock turned his body as much as he could when he saw the action in front of him. Mark cocks his stance and turns his attention to the bigger opponent, quickly shooting in the air, hands clenched.

 

“Furnace!” Kursk yelled from the mini crater, pushing his body up with a grunt of pain. “It's raining soldier!”

 

Mark cracks his neck and dives down again. Furnace drops one of the duffle bags he was carrying and aims his arm at the flying stranger. In a flash, fire shot out from the small cannon, aiming directly at the approaching hero. Mark, however, was faster, dodging it quicker than the pile of rocks expected. Flying to his blindspot, Mark cocked his hand back before throwing a mean right hook into the villain’s side. Furnace struck the ground like an asteroid that had just come from space, tumbling towards Kursk like a scene in Indiana Jones. The yellow freak, unfortunately, was faster and leapt into the air before Furnace could crush him.

 

“You filthy twunk!” Kursk yells as he lands on his feet. “You will regret squeezing yourself into our business!”

 

“Did you just call me a twunk?” Mark frowns. “That's weird, bro.”

 

Right, professional talk. “I mean, stop this madness now, or I'll have to stop you myself!”

 

“Eat shit!”

 

Kursk throws his hands up, and within seconds, ropes of lightning struck towards Mark. The hero manages to dodge in time, circling above his opponent for a moment to suck in the air back into his lungs. He yells out, rushing towards the flashy villain when something hard hits against Mark's stomach, stopping him mid-flight. He quickly rushes back, landing on his feet for only a moment before his knees meet the dirty road below. Mark held onto the pulsing area as Furnace and Kursk stood a few feet away, looking at the newbie.

 

“He must be from that GDA bullshit.” Kursk looks up at Furnace, waving his spiky hand towards Mark. “Look at ridiculous helmet.”

 

“He's not very good at it.” Furnace charges one of his lava cannons up, pointing it at the injured hero. “Let's get this over with; Machine Head needs those gadgets.”

 

Mark suddenly leaps into the air, turning on the scanner of his helmet. Furnace’s real body was as he expected; smaller and thinner, barely as tall as Kursk. One punch could easily knock him out. Rolling his shoulders, Mark dove down.

 

“Idiot boy!” Kursk yells again, lightning shooting from his fingertips as Furnace’s fire-lava combo shoots from his cannon. Mark is still diving forward, hands clenched as the two death elements are closing in on him.

 

Then, he swoops to the side and breaks through the air as he stills right in front of Kursk. His fist flew back again, his own yell screeching the space around them as his knuckles came forward and collided into the orange bolt-like eyes. The flashy villain’s body went shooting upward into the air, causing the walking fireplace to pause mid-fight to watch his partner in crime fly through the skies like a blown-away leaf.

 

“Kursk!” He calls out, his body clanking loudly as it spun to meet the shorter hero. “You! You GDA scum always ruin everything!”

 

Mark pauses, looking up at his next opponent.

 

Wait.

 

Furnace locks his cannon into place. “I will end you!”

 

Wait.

 

Furnace raises his arm in front of Mark. “Die!”

 

Got it.

 

Swiftly, Mark's clenched hand swung up and struck the center of the armor with ease. A few cracks and crumbles split around his body in a second, and then a mini explosion erupts as his body armor drastically falls apart and a body made of lava falls to the ground, face-first onto the broken concrete. The GDA hero knew his time was limited; strong hands grabbed hold of the fiery arms and flew quickly to his left, keeping an eye on the struggling yellow figure ahead.

 

“What the–?” Kursk didn't have enough time to get up. Instantaneously, Mark chucked the villain towards the other and watched as their bodies clashed. Kursk lets out an ear-piercing scream as Furnace's hot body melted onto him. Mark heaved and looked around, seeing all the duffle bags were secured and safe. He looks back at the villains, Kursk still struggling with the hot piece of flesh on top of him, while Furnace seems to have been knocked out from the impact.

 

Which means…

 

“Wait,” Mark perks up, “I did it.”

 

“Seems so.” Cecil's voice returns. “You got them under wraps.”

 

“I did it!” Mark's face lit up from under the helmet. “I actually did it!”

 

He flew close to the two villains, who were now going away for a long time because of Mark. The prideful man straightens his posture, placing his hands on his hips as Kursk points a long, pointy finger at him.

 

“You!” He screeches, his arm shaking. “Who are you?!”

 

“Me?” Mark feels a smile spread on his lips. He's been waiting for someone to ask him since his first job yesterday. He puffs out his chest as his gaze completely fixates on the questioner.

 

“I am Agent Invincible.”

 

“Fuck you, Invincible!”

 

Wow. Okay. Mark knew that was going to happen, but he was hoping it'd be a bit more dramatic. He didn't have time to reminisce about the insult anyway, because flashes appeared all around them as GDA soldiers came rushing to the scene. At least five or six of them kept the cornered enemies on the ground, pointing their blasters at the duo as two more came to the scene, carrying materials that are probably specifically made to arrest people like them.

 

Once Mark spots the older man teleport his way into the scene, the young hero excitedly sinks down to the broken street below and lands in front of him. He reaches up to remove his headgear, but Cecil quickly stops him, grabbing hold of his wrist.

 

“Keep it on while you're on the job.” Cecil says, a little stern. “Heroes are better off keeping their identities a secret.”

 

“Right, right.” Mark frantically nods. “Did you see me?”

 

“Of course I did.” The director looks over Mark's shoulder to glance at the two villains. “Had me worried there for a second.”

 

Mark shrugs, rubbing the side of his neck. “Uh, yeah, I needed a minute to focus, but I got it! I got them! Some of the biggest, baddest guys around!”

 

He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yep.”

 

Mark stares at him.

 

Cecil looks at Mark again.

 

He cracks a smile. “Good one, Invincible.”

 

Even though the glass of the headgear wasn't seen through, Cecil knew Mark was smiling widely underneath the disguise.

 

“Head back to the Pentagon.” The GDA director commands, waving some of the other soldiers over. “We have a few things to discuss once I'm done here, but I'm proud of you, Mark.”

 

The young hero hovers in the air, saluting the older man before he disappears into the bright sky.

 

I can't wait to tell Donald about this!

Notes:

"I won my first real fight and all I got was this t-shirt and gay thoughts" -Mark

Chapter 5: Chapter Five

Summary:

“It'll still be a New Year’s party, right?” Mark asked, a little nervous. “I've been thinking about Green Ghost’s baked croissants since last September.”

 

“You really do like those, huh?” Cecil smirks. “Yeah, sure. Like I said, think of it as combining the two.”

 

Mark nods. “Okay, yeah, for sure. Whatever you say, Cecil.”

Notes:

We up for another chapter !!!! This one was definitely super fun to write, and we finally get to meet other characters! Aka some of my absolute favorite girls because we need them more in our lives

Also!! Just for quick clarification, in this story/AU I moved some stuff around so the timeline is a little different :) hence why certain events mentioned/not mentioned are/aren't brought up, or played out differently here than in the show. I figured I'd mess around just a little bit, I mean, the og Guardians are alive so everything is already out of place completely /silly

Hope y'all enjoy!!

“He didn't even see me coming!”

 

“So I've heard.”

 

Mark was barely paying attention to the screening device behind him, looking ahead at Donald as the agent wrote down a couple of notes on his clipboard about today's mission. The city hero didn't even realize he was going on a crazy tangent about today's events; he was still fired up from successfully taking down a duo of villains by himself without needing assistance.

 

“One moment, they thought I was on the ground, completely useless.” Mark held up his arm, eyes shining as one of the doctors wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his left limb. “The next, they were piled on each other like– like– a pile of blankets you left in the corner of your room!”

 

Mark wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about, but Donald was at least pretending to understand, nodding at every little thing Mark was spitting out. The doctor had to keep Mark from moving as the young hero continued on his ramble, subconsciously waving his arms and legs anytime he told the repeated story of today's success. Eventually, testing wrapped up, but Mark still hung around the middle-aged agent, retelling the same events again, yet Donald just kept nodding and smiling throughout the entirety of it as if he were just being told about it for the first time.

 

“Who do you think would be a good fit for me to fight next?” Mask asks as he follows Donald into the welcoming area. “The Mauler Twins? No, they're kind of easy. That one guy that can turn into a dragon? I think Kate said something about her brother working for him.”

 

“There's a lot to go from there.” Donald chuckles, flipping through the papers on his clipboard. “And it would depend on which villain is terrorizing the city that day.”

 

Mark pouts. He was right about that; Mark would have to wait and see who was planning to destroy the city first, not go out on his own and find a random villain to pick a fight with. Still, possibilities were swimming around in his head, imagining all the current villains he could be fighting right now and saving the city with as much pride as Cecil does when he does a job well done.

 

Speaking of.

 

“Sir.”

 

Cecil walks through the entrance with a huff, brushing the remains of his hair back as he sets his eyes on the duo ahead of him. Instantly forgetting about Donald, Mark makes his way over to the older man, eyes still sparkling.

 

“How are they?” Mark asks immediately, walking beside Cecil as he journeys further into the building. “What kind of burns does Kursk have? Is Furnace still unconscious? Are they set on revenge against me?”

 

“Jesus, kid.” Cecil cocks his brow, glaring at the excited young man. “You need to find other shows to watch other than that Seance Dog crap.”

 

“First of all,” Mark matches Cecil's glare, “it's not crap, it's one of the best shows out there. Secondly, I wanna know exactly how I did and how much they hate me right now.”

 

“Where is this coming from?”

 

“Eve says this happens with all of the villains they capture.” Mark retorts, not backing down. “Come on, tell me what you know! I have to let the others know about this as soon as possible.”

 

Cecil looks at Donald, who just gives a small smile and a lazy shrug before the director gives in, grumbling something under his breath as he motions for Mark to follow him.

 

“They were transferring, at least attempting to, different types of microchips and gadgets that Machine Head requested.” Cecil motions with his hands as they walk down the hallway towards the database. “It was a dramatic entrance as far as I'm told. We're unsure why he needs those things specifically, as Kursk refuses to explain and Furnace hasn't woken up since we arrested them.”

 

The automatic door swings open, revealing the control room inside. Many of the workers were too busy keeping track of every location in the world to pay attention to the expected trio. Mark takes a seat at the desk behind him as Cecil and Donald stand over the front of the desks, watching surveillance footage of Mark's previous attack from earlier.

 

“Oh hey! Look!” Mark perks, seeing himself fighting Furnace and Kursk. “That's me!”

 

It was the exact moment Mark had picked Furnace up and flew him over to his crime buddy with ease, dropping his body like he was a sack of sweets. The half-alien hero couldn't help but feel somewhat prideful. Was it cruel? Yes. But Kursk and Furnace have hurt many people prior to their little meetup; Kursk can handle getting a third-degree burn.

 

“Right on.” Cecil titters, then glances at one of the ladies at the very front. “Give me the data.”

 

The woman at the front typed in a few words into the database before a screen full of numbers popped up on her end. She adjusted her glasses as she began to read out; “Speed was increased by five percent, higher than usual. Strength increased between twenty and twenty-five percent. Durability overall stayed the same; no internal bleeding or bruises were left on Agent Invincible.”

 

Mark's cheeks flushed, looking away. It's no surprise Cecil still kept track of Mark's activities even outside of training. However, he thought he was still relatively the same throughout the fight, as his speed and punches didn't really feel any different.

 

“Thank you, Margaret.” Cecil clicks, then points at a specific part where Mark had punched Furnace, causing his armor to shatter into hundreds of pieces. “Donald, clip that.”

 

“Wait, why?” Mark questions, but he gets no answer. He frowns as Donald nods and stalks over to one of the empty computers. The new hero glances at Cecil, who looks as if he were studying the footage to look for a single piece of detail. He lifts his head higher, looking at the computers all around him. They all had the footage pulled up on their screens, some taking numerous notes while others replayed the same timeframe over and over again. Mark opens his mouth to question what they were doing, but the old director cuts in before he could even mutter a word out.

 

“For today's success,” Cecil takes steps towards the younger man, hands stuffed in his pockets, “I was thinking you have your own little celebration party.”

 

“Celebration party?” Mark tilts his head. “Like what?”

 

“Well, you know that New Year’s party we had to push back because a nuke nearly blew up all of LA?” Cecil says, walking up to the desk and leaning one of his hands on the cool surface. “Well, we can combine that with a special party just for you.”

 

Mark suddenly felt shy, gazing at the shiny ground with pink-tipped ears. “Oh, oh wow, uh, I don't know if that's necessary–”

 

“Kid,” Cecil grinned, “do you know how many first-time heroes don't get a chance to fight two county state threats and actually win? Kursk and Furnace are definitely major threats for a lot of heroes, and you beat them with little to no problem.”

 

A smile did appear on Mark's lips, fiddling with his hands as he thought about what Cecil said. It was true; after the Flaxans, Mark almost lost all hope for himself to be a hero. One mess up, and he was already thinking of other GDA jobs he could take over for the rest of his life. But now? Taking out Kursk and Furnace by himself? He practically wanted the entire world to know Agent Invincible was ready to take on any villain that stood in his way.

 

“It'll still be a New Year’s party, right?” Mark asked, a little nervous. “I've been thinking about Green Ghost’s baked croissants since last September.”

 

“You really do like those, huh?” Cecil smirks. “Yeah, sure. Like I said, think of it as combining the two.”

 

Mark nods. “Okay, yeah, for sure. Whatever you say, Cecil.”

 

____

 

“Looking sharp, Agent Invincible.”

 

Mark chuckles as Eve adjusts the collar on his suit, smiling as she pats the side of his neck before pulling away. The black-haired man scratches the side of his jaw as he looks around the filled-up room that was packed by heroes.

 

“I try my best.” Mark jokes, taking Eve's hand as they make their way through the crowd. “Is it just me, or are there a lot more heroes here than usual?”

 

The redhead glances up at Mark, eyes glistening. “Were you not aware we got more heroes in the area?”

 

He blinks. “We do?”

 

“God, you're horrible at this.”

 

It was a light jab that made them both giggle. Recently, Mark and Eve had grown close these past few months. She's been branching out more, going on her own solo missions without the team and focusing more on natural disasters. Rex mentioned something about her finally leaving her parents and living somewhere else in the wilderness. He hasn't had the chance to visit yet, but hopefully soon that can change.

 

“Soooo,” Eve nudges his arm, a playful grin spread on her lips, “how does it feel being the new talk of the town?”

 

“Am I?” Mark's face lit up, his expression more readable than he thought. “I mean, am I really? The Guardians of the Globe are still the most popular heroes in the entire–”

 

She smacks his arm. “I meant being known as the new hero with the cool new suit.”

 

Mark stares at Eve.

 

“Have you not seen the articles?”

 

Mark blinks. Eve sighs and digs into her pocket, pulling out her pink-covered phone. She quickly opens Google and types something in the search bar until hundreds of articles instantly pop onto the screen. She taps on a particular one and holds it up for Mark to read. He cautiously takes the device and reads the article laid out for him.

 

CHICAGO — On Friday, January 23, XXXX, the Department of Technology and Repairs was celebrating its 20th anniversary when suddenly the criminals — known as Kursk and Furnace — attacked the building and injured 30 of 34 innocents while they raided the building, shouting threats to the civilians inside. According to the police report, the criminals stole $5,000,000 worth of material before they tried to make their escape down the street. By doing so, they had spread the fire across the block, injuring 19 more civilians in the process.

 

However, just as all hope was lost, a sudden hero interfered with the criminal acts and put a stop to the chaos that had been created. The hero in black and green — who calls himself Agent Invincible — had managed to apprehend Kursk and Furnace — just in time as the GDA (Global Defense Agency) foundation had arrived. Both criminals were arrested on the spot and taken into custody, awaiting trial for their new sentence.

 

Mark didn't bother to read the rest; probably had more information on what the stolen stuff was for or the word origin story on why Kursk and Furnace became villains in the first place. He was too giddy about being mentioned by his hero name, Agent Invincible, in the official American-Chicago article. A new official city hero, who managed to save everyone. The young man's toothy smile was visible enough for anyone to see, including Eve, who was grinning with him.

 

“You seem happy.” The redhead teases, watching as Mark scrolled up to reread the beginning part of the article again. “Like, really happy. Look at Mr. Invincible go.”

 

“Mr.?” Mark turned away from the phone to look at Eve, still grinning. “Okay, now this is just getting cheap.”

 

He hands Eve her phone back, returning to observing the party room. He spots the obvious among the crowd; Rex was talking to a group of girls, standing with one drink in his hand and the other hand placed firmly on his hip, his head cocked to the side as a giant sly smirk painted his happy-to-be-here face. Mark recognized it immediately as his flirting tactic, and lucky for him, it was working because the group of girls were giggling and covering their mouths at his probably-lame jokes that they found cute enough to humor in. Mark had to fight the urge to frown, taking a deep breath and looking away so he was focused more on everything else.

 

Donald was on the other side of the room, talking to War Woman and Darkwing with a small smile on his smooth face. Behind the trio was someone who looked similar to Darkwing; he thinks Cecil mentioned him having a sidekick by the name “Nightboy.” On the right of them was the Immortal and Robot, holding a genuine conversation. Immortal was sipping on some champagne while Robot had his metal hands clasped behind his back, nodding each time Immortal's lips moved. And finally, Mark spots Cecil at the very front of the room, standing by the giant windows of the greeting area as he talks to Brit. It was almost hard to spot him in the crowd, so many heads blocking his view whenever he tried to memorize the heroes around him.

 

“You okay, Mark?” Eve gently tugged on his sleeve. “You look like you're going to faint.”

 

“What?” His head snapped back at the redhead. “Oh, crap. Sorry, Eve. I'm just trying to remember everyone that’s here so I know who to send ‘thank you for coming’ cards when Cecil throws them at me.”

 

“Isn't there a guest list?” Eve giggles, scanning around the room anyway. “I'm sure Cecil can lend you a hand.”

 

“He thinks memorizing faces is a better way to remember someone.” Mark shrugs, pulling Eve close. “I mean, it's worked for the most part. I recognize everyone here so far.”

 

“Until you see the new faces.” Eve pulls Mark to the side. “Like I said, we got a few new neighborhood heroes around here.”

 

“Have you met them?”

 

“Probably a few. I heard they were invited as a ‘welcome to the glorious city of every horrible villain known to humankind’ guest. You know, the best kind of welcoming around.”

 

“Sure. Whatever you say, Eve.”

 

The duo giggles as they finally reach the snack table. Mark spots the fried croissants and grins, pulling his hand from the woman beside him and grabbing two at a time. Eve grabs a plastic green cup and a bottle of fruit punch (for anyone that wasn't twenty-one or above– Cecil always thinks ahead). She looks over her shoulder at Cecil, seeing he was too busy talking to the bigger man in front of him, and poured the orange drink into the plastic holder as a spark of pink glitters around it and the bright-colored liquid becomes a yellow-orange color. Mark lifts a brow, his nose wrinkling when he sees what she has done.

 

“You're not twenty-one.” He reminds her, taking a slow bite of his croissant. Eve shrugs, taking a quick sip of her newly formed drink.

 

“Are you going to snitch?” She playfully matches his expression, side-eyeing him. He narrows his eyes, taking another bite.

 

“Absolutely not, but I'm still going to judge you.” He says with a mouth full of food. He was already used to Rex drinking without being twenty-one, but that doesn't mean it still doesn't bother him.

 

“I'll be fine.” She moves her shoulders, taking another sip. “Plus, I need this. I had the misfortune of talking to my dad today.”

 

Mark's judgement was immediately washed away, replacing his scowl with a sympathetic look. “Ah, crap. Are you okay, Eve?”

 

“It's fine.” She flips her hair, looking off towards the side. “I only went there to talk to my mom, but he came home early. It didn't last long, but it still sucks, you know?”

 

Mark doesn't know the whole extent of Eve’s rocky relationship with both of her parents– particularly her dad– but he knows enough that he would rather be locked in a room with an angry Cecil than spend a minute with that parasite of a man. Even Rex constantly complains about him, and yeah, Rex complains about everything, but he's somehow ten times more creative with insults when it comes to Mr. Wilkins. It's kind of impressive, so he thinks.

 

Just as Eve opened her mouth to continue talking, a long finger taps her on the shoulder. Noticing it too, both Mark and Eve spun around simultaneously to see an unfamiliar curly-haired brunette with glasses standing behind them, her own green plastic cup swirling in her hand as she wore a friendly smile to present to the two heroes.

 

“Hey, uh,” she chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of her head, “I know this is totally out of nowhere and everything, but I saw your little trick, and I was wondering…”

 

She held up her cup and shook it a little. Eve whistles, a twinkle in her emerald eyes as she holds out her hand. The brunette gifts her the cup, and a split second later, the fruit punch inside sparks pink before a matching color from Eve’s drink presents itself to the tiny group. The redhead winks as she hands the drink back, much to the joy of the stranger in front of them.

 

“Thank you.” She smirks, taking a small swig of the stronger liquid. “They checked my ID, so I haven't been able to wind down from this… place for an hour.”

 

“Oh, I get it.” Eve crosses her arms, holding her own cup by the tip of her fingers over the radius of her arm. “They allow us to go fight big and scary monsters and villains everyday, but they draw the line at minors drinking alcohol.”

 

“Right.” She snickers, holding out her hand. “I'm Rachel, or Rae. I'm fine with either.”

 

Eve beams, taking her hand. “I'm Samantha, or Eve. This guy here is Mark.” She pulls away and nods to Rae. Mark smiles and takes Rae's hand, giving it a nice shake. He looks down at her hand, and his eyes practically start producing stars when he sees a familiar bracelet wrapped around her wrist.

 

“Wait, you like Seance Dog?” Mark perks up. Rae’s eyes widened, looking at her own bracelet as her own smile spread to her lips.

 

“Yeah!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I've been reading it since I was twelve.”

 

“No way! Do you watch the show too?”

 

“I read the comics, watch the show, AND follow their short stories channel on YouTube.”

 

Eve watched as the two heroes forged a bond through none other than Seance Dog. Rae and Mark went on a tangent as they talked about the consumed media: their favorite characters, which issue was the best, the one arc no fan talks about, and what they think will adapt in the third season of the TV show.

 

“I'm just curious if they're actually going down that route with Science Cat.” Rae comments, now eating her own piece of a fried croissant. “Because it was cool in the comics, but then they just kind of forgot about that plotline later, you know?”

 

“Oh definitely.” Mark nods. “But maybe they won't forget this time if they do the spinoff in the show.”

 

“Spinoff?” Rae lifts her gaze, slightly surprised. “Which one? ‘Cause the other spinoffs focused on the side characters or Seance Dog’s alien father.”

 

“The limited edition one! They explored Science Cat’s childhood and why she does what she does in that issue.”

 

“Wait, you mean the one that sold out after five hours?! You have that?”

 

Mark nods, looking a little prideful. “Managed to get my hands on it–”

 

“His best friend bought it for him.” The redhead smirks, ignoring the small glare from the taller man. “It's his pride and joy, literally. He keeps it in a secret part in his room so no one else touches it.”

 

“Eve!” Mark's face turned a shade of red. He had completely forgotten he told her about that.

 

“Nah, I get it.” Rae waves it off. “I took all of my stuff with me when I moved here because I couldn't fathom the idea of my younger siblings touching my stuff and ruining years worth of collectibles.”

 

“Tell me about it!” Mark laughed, tangling a hand into his black mane. “I've told Cecil hundreds of times to not send anyone in my room without my permission because I didn't want them–”

 

“Wait, Cecil?”

 

The brunette tilts her head to the side, looking over at Eve for a second before back at Mark. “As in, the GDA director?”

 

“Uh, yeah?” Mark suddenly paled. “Why? Is it…?”

 

“Oh, no.” She nervously laughs. “Shit, sorry. Do you live here?”

 

Oh. Right. Not everyone knows Mark lives here.

 

“Yeah.” He wearily smiles. “This is my home. Nowhere else to go. Just me and Cecil… and Donald.”

 

“Oh… Oh, wait!” Rae snaps her fingers and points at Mark. “Agent Invincible, right?”

 

The mood shifts immediately.

 

“Yeah, me!” It sounded way more awkward than Mark intended. “Agent Invincible! That's me.”

 

“I saw.” Rae chuckles, holding her drink with both hands. “Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to get weird about it; I just didn't think you would look so…”

 

“So…?”

 

“Young?” Rae taps her chin. “I don't know; I didn't think you were old or anything, but you look barely younger than me.”

 

Mark shrugs, looking away. “Good… uh, good luck on my end, I guess.”

 

Rae clicks her tongue, her pale face slightly flushing. “Sorry. Shit. Didn't mean to get all weird on you.”

 

“No no!” Mark holds up his hands, brows knitting nervously. “You're fine! I'm used to people already knowing I live here; it's not everyday you meet someone as young as me around here, I get it. No hard feelings.”

 

The brunette sighs in relief, brushing a bang away from her eyes. “Tell me about it. So…”

 

She looks over at Cecil, still standing at the front of the glass, now talking to both Brit and some other hero. “Are you his son or something? ‘Cause you say you live here, and you mentioned Cecil while you were like–” she waves her hand a little, “saying stuff about being here.”

 

“He's not…” Mark follows her gaze towards the old director. “No, but… well, it's complicated. But it's not? Um…”

 

He looks towards Eve for help.

 

“Ah,” Eve butts in between, looking between the half-human man and the new friend they just made, “it's definitely more complicated than that, but…”

 

Eve leans in and covers the side of her mouth, whispering something to Rae. The supposedly other hero lights up and nods in understanding, giving the redhead a thumbs up.

 

“Uh?” Mark blinks at Eve. “What did you tell her?”

 

“It's sorted out.” She reassures, patting his arm. “Okay, go back to Seance Dog. The way you two were rambling was hilarious.”

 

“Hey–”

 

The moment was ruined when a loud, ear-jerking laugh echoed in the large room, loud enough for everyone to stop mid-conversation and turn towards the source. Mark was no different, doing the same and frowning upon seeing the scene before him.

 

“Aww, look at her! She's adorable!”

 

Rex was hunched over on his knees, mockingly smiling at a young girl in front of him. Mark didn't recognize her; the only thing that clicked in his head was that she was no older than fourteen.

 

“But isn't there an age requirement for this, guys?” Rex stands straight and looks over the crowd. “Am I wrong? We've got alcohol here, people. This seems weird, right?”

 

“Rex–” Robot stepped forward to stop the idiot from further embarrassing himself, but the young girl beat him to it.

 

“I don't know, you're here.” She sneers. “Isn't there a dick size requirement?”

 

Rex's face flashed from humorous to shock. “I'm sorry?”

 

“For what? Your tiny dick?” She holds up her pinky, mockingly matching the look on his toned face. “I mean, the way you've been strutting around here,”

 

She leans down and puts her hand close to her mouth, as if she were trying to whisper, but the words were loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

“You must be compensating for something.”

 

She lets her hand fall, pouting at him without a care in her eyes. A few murmurs went around the room, small laughs following around. Mark saw the look on Rex's face; embarrassment hung high from the insult. His face then shifts to anger, holding up the cup in his hand as it suddenly sets ablaze in a bright yellow color.

 

“Somebody oughta teach you,” Rex stalks over to her, his hand clenching into a fist as it flashes bright enough to see the dark outline of his bones, “some motherfucking– whaaat the FUUU–”

 

The young girl’s body suddenly morphs into something Mark did not expect in the slightest; an ogre-like body replaces where the girl used to stand, towering immensely over Rex, casting a shadow. Rex didn't even have time to process what just happened before a mean left hook knocked him in the face and sent the hero flying towards the giant windows. Cecil, Brit, and Best Tiger (from what Mark is assuming) were still at the very front, not given enough time to move.

 

Mark reacted quickly; he zoomed forward and tackled Cecil out of the way, shielding him from the exploding glass behind. He heard Rex’s body hit the ground below– probably on one of the desks beneath where the party was held– as the whole room erupted into gasps from the sudden tension. Mark watches as the green beast leaps out from the shattered window and right in front of the explosion hero, who had just rolled off the desk he landed on. His hair, which was tucked in a neat bun just a second ago, now had strands dangling at the side of his head with the hair tie barely hanging on in the dark red waves.

 

“Guess you missed my introduction.” The beast chuckles, cracking her back as she glares down at the injured hero. “Still think I'm adorable?”

 

Rex barely had time to stand; another punch came his way, sending him flying to the wall on his left with a hard clash. Mark stood from where he was, eyes widening. Cecil grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

 

“Donald, get the team on this now!” Cecil commands, standing up. Mark looks behind him to see everyone watching the fight, amused. He saw Nightboy take a step forward, but Darkwing held out his arm in front of him, preventing him from interfering.

 

Why is everyone just standing there?

 

Rex pushed himself up from the ground, holding out his hand as he gagged and spat out three of his teeth.

 

“You little bitch.” He growls, whipping his head around towards the ogre as he clenches his hand that immediately sparks into action. The girl– monster thing– laughs and charges forward, hands balled. Rex got up and did the same, running and throwing the three sparks that were once his teeth at the opponent. However, they evaporated as soon as they hit the muscular body, with no damage left in sight.

 

“Aww, now THAT'S adorable.” She mocks, cocking her head to the side.

 

Mark took a step forward, but Cecil grabbed his shoulder.

 

“I'm gonna blast that smile,” Rex huffs as he grabs a nearby photo frame from the wooden desk, setting it ablaze as well, “off your stupid, green face.”

 

He chucks his weapon at the beast, but once again, no damage was left on her rough skin. The beast cracks her neck, wiping off the small smoke left on her body, then she raises her hands up and slams them down on the smaller hero, the ground beneath him breaking from the impact.

 

“HEY!”

 

Mark ignored the previous warnings Cecil had given him, airborning off the ledge at high speed as his arm cocks back, raising his white-knuckled fist high in the air. The unknown monster lifts her head in time to see her attacker hit hard against her cheek, her body flying backward and crashing straight into and past the desk from behind. Her body transforms back as soon as her body collides with the wall, falling face-first onto the cold ground below.

 

“That boy just hit that little girl!”

 

Mark ignores the voice above, promptly landing right next to Rex, crouching down. The other hero groans in pain, lifting his hand to touch his soon-to-be swollen face. Mark tucks a hand under his back and lifts him into a sitting position, moving his arm around Rex’s arm to steady him. The black-haired man looks over at the strange girl, who is now getting up while holding the side of her face.

 

“Oh, crap.” Mark looked between her and Rex. “Uh, look, I'm so sorry–”

 

Even so, Mark grabs Rex's right arm and hoists him up, gently wrapping the limb around his own shoulders as the girl makes her way over.

 

“Nah, my bad.” She suspires, moving her jaw slightly. “The kid thing sets me off everytime. And then, it's like,” she holds up her hands and curls her fingers inward to look like claws, scrunching her face, “raahhhh, beast mode.”

 

She looks at Rex with a calm expression. “Sorry about the dick joke. I'm sure your junk is awesome.”

 

Rex groans, lifting his head to lazily glare at the girl. “It's fine, I'm good, you’re good. You can… punch hard.”

 

Mark begins to lead him towards the door in the far corner of the room as Rex continues to moan in pain.

 

“Ugh… Christ…”

 

____

 

“Stop pressing so hard! My nose still hurts, dickwad!”

 

“You should have thought of that before insulting someone who can shift into a monster!”

 

“I didn't even know she could do that!”

 

Mark huffs in annoyance, forcibly grabbing Rex's jaw and keeping him still as he presses the wet cotton ball against his nose. Rex tried to jerk back, his hands squeezing Mark's arm, but the other man wasn't having it.

 

“Can't believe you picked a fight at a party.” Mark mutters, wiping away the remaining blood. “Like, I know you can be a jerk, but seriously, man?”

 

“Fuck off!” Rex pushes Mark back, scowling. “I was just joking around.”

 

“She was also joking around.” Mark tosses the cotton ball in the trash. “You didn't find it funny, either.”

 

The two heroes settled in the small infirmary not too far from the crash course. Mark knew this place like the back of his hand, so he instantly got to work when Rex settled enough to start checking on him. Rex, sitting on the hospital-like bed with the biggest pout Mark has ever seen on him, complaining about the whole ordeal. He most likely expected Mark to join him in insulting this poor girl, but Mark had only scolded him and called him an idiot the entire time for starting it in the first place.

 

“What was a kid doing at a party like this anyway?!” Rex threw his hand in the air, then let it fall back on his knee. “There's multiple adults around her with tons of alcohol left unattended for her to grab!”

 

“So your idea was to mock her?” Mark crosses his arms, glaring at Rex. “Even if she was just a normal kid, you could have been nicer about it!”

 

“I've been drinking!”

 

“You're a jerk even without alcohol!”

 

Rex looks away, his eyes glaring at the floor below. Mark waits for him to say something, tilting his head, but gets nothing. He frowns, hesitantly moving to the bed and sitting next to the pouting hero. Rex looks at him. He looks at Rex.

 

“Alright, fine.” The green-eyed hero sighs, giving up. “I was being a bit of a jerk.”

 

“A bit is an understatement.”

 

“Hey! I'm the one with the swollen face here!”

 

“And whose fault is that?”

 

Rex hits his arm. “Look, if I see her, I'll apologize, alright? I forget some people don't like silly jabs thrown at them– ow!”

 

Mark elbows him in the rib. “Some people don't like strangers making jabs at them. Especially ones who like to step on people's toes as a hobby.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Rex groans, holding onto the side of his rib. Mark, still concerned for his friend, reaches over and gently touches his arm. The dark redhead looked at the paler hero with a neutral gaze, then he sighs and leans over, resting his head on Mark's shoulder. The half-human’s face lit up again, looking away as a bad attempt to hide the creeping blush coating his cheeks.

 

“I didn't ruin your party, did I?” Rex quietly questioned, a hint of regret in his rough voice. “I wasn't trying to pick a fight or anything, seriously.”

 

Mark hums, wrapping an arm around Rex's torso. “No, no, you're fine. It was, uh, getting boring anyway.”

 

He tried to push in some humor between the tension, but Rex wasn't having it.

 

“I ruined your conversation with that girl, huh?”

 

“Huh?” Mark looked down at the resting head on him. “What girl?”

 

Rex lifts his hand and starts moving and twisting it around the corners of his head. “The one with the brown hair and glasses.”

 

“Oh. Oh! Rae?” Mark unexpectedly questions, like Rex would somehow know. His friend moves his head to look at him, eyebrow raised.

 

“You got her name?”

 

“Yeah… why are you–”

 

It clicked in his head. “No, no, don't think about it like that!”

 

“Oh shit.” Rex suddenly sits up, grinning like a madman. “Are my ears deceiving me? Did you find a girl?”

 

God damn it, not now.

 

“It's not like that.” Mark turns away from him. “She was just into Seance Dog–”

 

“Oooh ho ho! Now I got to hear this!” Rex leans after the younger man, eyes sparkling. “Come on! Come on! What else did you talk about?”

 

“Stop.” Mark hid his burning face from Rex. “Enough. It's not like that!”

 

“You're denying yourself!”

 

Not really.

 

“It's not!” Mark argues, dragging his hand down his face. “She just seemed cool! I don't even– how do I know if she– stop!”

 

Rex was laughing at him now, patting his back aggressively. “Alright, alright, I'm just joshing ya. But you make it so easy.”

 

“Screw you.”

 

Just then, the door to the infirmary swung open, and in came a very angry Cecil with a worried Donald behind him.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” The old man stopped in his tracks, his knuckles whitening as his blue gaze poured into Rex's green one. “Starting a fight in front of multiple heroes?! At all times such as this?!”

 

“I already got scolded by Mark.” Rex mumbles, his happy demeanor disappearing. “Do we need to–”

 

“Cecil.” Mark slowly held up his hand, looking between the opposing forces. “I took care of it, I promise.”

 

Cecil grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It doesn't matter what you told him or what he said; he still caused havoc at an event that was meant to celebrate you, Mark, not become the next WWE sporting ring.”

 

“It was also for New Year’s.” Mark mumbles under his breath, looking away. “Look, Rex already–”

 

“No no no.” Rex held up his hand. “Let the man speak. Yelling at others is the only way he can keep his self-image intact since his hairline has gone down the drain.”

 

“Rex!” Mark bit, glaring at his friend. “Don't do this right now!”

 

“You made yourself look like a fool!” Cecil ignores the possible bickering of the two younger men.

 

“I know that already!” Rex bared his teeth, eyes sharp. “I got my face bashed in front of everyone! Let me sulk away in my sorrows.”

 

Mark placed his face in his hands as the two of them argued. It wasn't the first time they'd gotten into a spat with one another, and it definitely wouldn't be the last, but God, did it get annoying. He heard Donald make his way over, Mark hearing his earpiece spark alive as the arguing continued.

 

“Sir, there's something you need to hear.” Donald said urgently. “Someone is entering Earth's atmosphere.”

 

Mark's head flies up, eyes widely looking at the agent as silence falls around them.

 

“Let's go.” Cecil demands, walking past Donald. Mark immediately stands up, helping Rex up as they follow the old director into the hallway.

 

“Someone–” Rex groans, holding his side, “as in, a living life form entering Earth at high-grossing speed?”

 

“We're unsure what it is yet,” Donald swallows, nervously glancing at Rex, “but it's traveling at high speed into our atmosphere. They're describing it as–”

 

The door to the control chamber opened, revealing a ton of workers worryingly staring at the giant screen in front of the room. The live footage in front of them showed something was, indeed, traveling at high speed towards the planet. It was hard to tell what it was, as the light around the being wasn't letting the satellite pick up the silhouette of whoever this was entering Earth's atmosphere.

 

“Fifteen minutes until he's breathing our air.” Cecil says with a shaky breath.

 

“He’s traveling at speeds that we've only ever found in Mark Grayson.” One of the reporters says, shuffling through paper. “In fifteen minutes, he'll enter the skies of Arlington.”

 

No.

 

“Donald, clip this now.” Cecil whirls around, eyes sharp. “Get the Immortal on call.”

 

Donald nods. “Right away, sir.”

 

Why now? Of all times?

 

“Wait, wait,” Rex pulls away from Mark, limping over to Donald, “speeds as in, as fast as our guy right there? The same exact speed.”

 

“P– Precisely.” Donald stutters, moving his earpiece.

 

He’s back. He's here. He's going to finish the job.

 

Mark looks around the room; Rex, Cecil, Donald. He looks at the workers, human beings that have families waiting for them back home. Actual homes. And He was back to ruin it for them. No mercy, just like last time.

 

“Hey wait– Mark!”

 

Mark didn't hear Rex's cry as he suddenly bolted out of the room, running at top speed down the hallway, into the welcoming area, and soon into the room where his suit resides. His clothes scattered on the floor, abandoned as the new agent threw on the protective gear, putting on the helmet last as he rose in the air and zoomed out of the forbidden zone and out the front doors within seconds, ignoring Cecil's urgent call from behind him.

 

In a flash, Mark high-jumps into the air and disappears into the night sky, senses high. He makes his way towards the direction of the approaching figure, ready to face the brute that threatened his home once more.

Notes:

Mark when he meets someone new: a circle?? In the triangle factory?? How queer!! I've never seen such a thing- I must inquire about this further with my supervisor post-haste!

Rex when he meets someone new: I guess we're doing circles now! *Gets punched*

Chapter 6: Chapter Six

Summary:

“Invincible?”

 

Even then, Mark will never forget the name for as long as he lives.

Notes:

I got this chapter done quicker than I thought 😭 don't mind it though! But quick PSA

Starting today (or technically tomorrow?), I'm gonna try and get 1-2 chapters pushed out each week. I don't want to overburn myself with a lot of writing, but also I wanna keep writing 😆 it's a fun story, and I'm glad you guys have been enjoying it! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)

Mark had only been in space a good handful of times; going back and forth between the Earth and Moon to test his speed was always a Wednesday exercise for the young man. Luckily for him, that was one of his better qualities, especially when he's in a state of panic and fear. His arms flexed, his pulse quickened, imagining what disaster he was about to face if he didn't stop Him in time.

 

Mark halts just right above his colorful planet, stopping dead in his tracks as he takes a quick look around the void. The only thing that catches his eye is the satellite floating around him, but other than that, emptiness. Even when he turns on the scanner connected to the headgear, nothing pops up.

 

Mark begins to internally panic, thinking, what if He's already at the base? Is He in a city? Can we track Him from here? What should I do?

 

Suddenly, a crushing force struck behind his back, strong hands connecting to the upper part of his spine, forcing the hero flying into the ocean of emptiness. Mark manages to regain his posture, faltering in his wake as his eyes stare at the… not Him?

 

“Hey, you're early!” A booming voice echoed in Mark's skull, almost like when someone yells into a dark cave and an echo follows after. “And you have a helmet now!”

 

Even so, Mark didn't know who this guy was or his intentions. His eyes scan over the clothing: white and red. Red and white. Mark's body immediately tenses, his heartbeat quickening as those colors circle in his head.

 

“Stay away from my planet!” Mark yells in his head, boosting after the strange guy in the forbidden colors. His arms wrap around the bigger stranger’s waist, tackling him through the sea of stars. Mark sets back and punches hard into the orange alien's abdomen, watching as he flies backwards towards the twinkling dots. Then, his body nears the satellite, and Mark’s shoulders drop. Uh oh.

 

“Not bad,” the alien compliments as his hand takes hold of the giant object, “but if you're trying to tackle me into something, your moon is that way!”

 

He points a wacky finger at Mark before he spins around and chucks the large piece at the new agent. The hybrid, unamused, catches it in his own grips and throws it behind him, mentally thanking Cecil for all the times he's made Mark catch hurling boulders during training.

 

“Why can I hear you in my head?!” Mark questions, grinding his teeth together.

 

“Where else do you store your brain?” The orange being smirks, flying after Mark. He raised his fist, his singular eye full of enthusiasm as he swung at the younger man. However, Mark dodges swiftly, face remaining neutral and very much unamused by the new opponent, even if he couldn't see the half-human’s face. The stranger swings a couple more times, each one missing Mark by a lot.

 

As soon as his face had a perfect opening, Mark winces his fist back and right-hooks the giant alien as hard as he could. The stranger spins away for a second, feeling his jaw as the pain finally settles in. His smirk only spreads, a misfit look on his long face.

 

“That's what you call protecting your planet?” He lunges forward. “I'm sad for YOUR PEOPLE!”

 

When he tries to hit Mark again, the half-human catches his fist mid-punch. The opponent blinks. Mark stares. Then roundhouse kicks him in the side, causing him to go tumbling once more. Wow, Mark is actually kind of fighting his match.

 

“Are you sure you're the same guy I fought here eight years ago?” He questions, holding his side with a pained look but still keeping his face strong.

 

“What?!” Mark shook his head, dumbfounded. “No, I'm not the same guy!”

 

“Well, sucks to be you then!”

 

The opponent tackles Mark across the void. Having grown tired of this, Mark lifts his elbow and knocks it hard against the stranger's eye, earning a grunt of pain as his muscular arms let go of the pale man.

 

“Ahh, my eye!” The orange being covers his eye, wincing in pain. Mark flexes his arms and dives after the alien, tackling him again towards the twilight of the stars.

 

“Really? You tried this already– heh?!”

 

The moon’s surface shakes as the two fighters crash right into it, small rocks and dust flying out into the no-gravity zone. Mark feels his body hit the hard rock below, tumbling around for a moment or two until he comes to a complete stop. With a groan, Mark lifts himself up, disappointed to see the bigger alien walk through the dust wind with a sly smile, looking down at him with satisfaction.

 

“Ha!” His voice echoed in Mark's head again. “Maybe you'll do after all.”

 

Mark's face wrinkles in annoyance. “What are you talking about?!”

 

The alien charges at him, and Mark sighs. He jumps over the alien before he could grab him and slams his heel into his eye again.

 

“Ah! My eye, bro!” Allen yells in their heads. Mark tackles him again, holding him down by the neck with a tight squeeze of his dirty hands.

 

“Hold on!” Mark yells as his newfound enemy struggles from underneath him. “I just– wanna– talk!”

 

He stops struggling, blinking up at the paler man. “Are you using your timeout?”

 

Mark pauses. “Wait, timeout? Why do I get a timeout?”

 

“Hey, I didn't make the rules.” He holds up his hands, a gentler smile spreading on his face as he nods his head a little.

 

“What rules?!” Mark sounded like an annoyed teenager, removing his hands and hopping off the bigger alien, hovering above him. “I don't even know who you are!”

 

“Oh? You don't?” He pushes himself up on his feet, dusting himself off. Mark had to look away, not wanting to look at the color combination again. The stranger quickly makes his way over to a stone-like part of the moon, grabbing hold of it and twisting and turning until it comes clean off. He marches back over to Mark, placing the giant rock down and taking a seat. He then uses his two-toed foot to push over a smaller, smoother rock to the Earth hero.

 

“Alright, um,” his voice echoed awkwardly as Mark hesitantly took a seat beside him, “I am an evaluation officer for the Coalition of Planets. I drop by little dirtballs like yours,” he smugly points at Mark, “to make sure there's someone capable of defending them against, you know, planet-conquering monsters… things of that nature.”

 

Mark slumps over, his elbows resting on his thighs. “I literally have no idea what any of that means.”

 

“Well,” his face changes from excited to confused, “I don't know what to tell you, man. Your planet signed up for the program. See?”

 

He takes out a device that could be chalked up as a knockoff iPad; the words “URATH” flash on the small screen with a little planet designed on it.

 

“Request from Urath for evaluation.”

 

“...Urath?!” Mark sits straight, his tone dropping into a thick scowl. “This is Earth!” He points over his shoulder at the blue and green planet.

 

The stranger's pupil follows Mark's direction, looking at the bright, colorful planet, then it slowly moves back to the angry hero. He turns the device around and looks down at the words and picture, then back at the planet.

 

“...Eaaarth?” He says very slowly.

 

“Yes!” Mark nods.

 

“...Not Urath?” He scratches his head.

 

“No!”

 

“Is that with an E or a U?”

 

“E!”

 

He sighs heavily, hands falling to his sides. “Oh, I'm in so much trouble.”

 

He stands, knocking on his skull a couple of times. “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

 

He turns to Mark, three-fingered hand outstretched. “I'm Allen, by the way.”

 

Mark looks at his hand, then at the towering figure above. Gradually, he took his hand and shook it. “Agent Invincible.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Allen chuckles, not believing a word he was saying. “A little optimistic, isn't it?”

 

Mark pulls his hand back. “What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“I just fought you, and I think you're quite vincible.” Allen jokes. Mark doesn't laugh.

 

“I was the one who did the most damage to you.”

 

“Nuh uh.”

 

Mark still doesn't laugh.

 

“Okay, well, as long as I don't get fired, I'll see you around, Agent Invincible.”

 

He turns away from the agent, then peeks over his shoulder. “Sorry about all the… you know?”

 

He punches the space around them, demonstrating the fighters’ previous battle against each other. Then, he bounces in the air and dashes off towards the stars.

 

Mark shifts on his feet.

 

He speeds off in the void after him.

 

“Wait!” He calls out. Allen stops mid-flight and turns around, eye wide when Mark flies up to him.

 

“Look, Invincible– I can call you that, right?” Allen asks, receiving a nod from Mark. “I have a job to do, and I'm already falling behind. I have to get to Urath, or else I'm going to be cleaning out toilets for the next month.”

 

“I know, I know, I'm sorry.” Mark holds up his hands, slowly gliding towards Allen. “But…”

 

His eyes look down at the color scheme of his outfit, and his mind flashes. He grabs the sides of the helmet, looking away.

 

“Can you remove the jacket?” He hisses, a little more resentful than he meant to. “Please? I don't– I don't like the color.”

 

There was silence for a moment, Allen looking at Mark with a very flabbergasted look, but he obliged and removed the fabric, leaving him in only white. “Alright, there, the jacket is gone.”

 

“Thanks.” Mark gulps, turning his attention back to the orange alien. “Um, this is going to sound weird, but who was the guy you fought eight years ago?”

 

“Well, you know,” Allen holds up a finger right below his singular eye, “some really buff dude with a mustache, looks like he probably does some killer space boxing! I mean, he threw me back into space like– why did your stance suddenly get weird?”

 

Mark didn't realize his hands were shaking at his sides, shoulders tense as his head looked in the direction of Allen. He takes a deep breath, his throat becoming dry as he floats slightly closer to the bigger alien.

 

“That… monster was a Viltrumite.” Mark says weakly, feeling his own head spin. “The man you fought was a Viltrumite. You know what those are, right?”

 

Allen stares at him, his ears quietly lowering as he processes the information. “Of course I do. Why wouldn't I– wait. Oh… oh! OH! Oh my Gosh, that explains so much! Wait, oh shit.”

 

Allen grabs the side of his head, his eye even wider than before. “That means Earth is off limits! Oh I'm definitely in trouble now–”

 

“Enough of that!” Mark waves his hands in front of him. “Just what can you tell me about Viltrumites?”

 

The orange alien looked over his shoulder at the endless sea of planets, then back at Mark, then over his shoulder again. He repeats this process another five or six times until he locks his only eye on Mark and groans.

 

“They are basically a bunch of hypocritical, conquering assholes that LOVE to go to planets,” he begins, making motions with his hands as he explains the information to the younger man, “and basically enslave everything breathing on said planet. We're trying to find a way to stop them, but it's just been… dull lately. Pretty weird.”

 

Allen slowly leans in, his face inches from the reflective glass of the GDA headgear. “So, your planet might be fucked.”

 

“He's gone.”

 

Pause.

 

“What?” Allen backs away. “Like, gone gone?”

 

Mark nods. “Eight years ago.”

 

“A Viltrumite just… left?”

 

Mark goes on to explain the history of Him and Earth, how He deceived everyone that trusted Him, then vanished into space after He had committed an unforgivable act. The young man didn't really go into too much detail on that part; he didn't know Allen that well, and he’d rather not tell the strange alien of the event that left behind yesterday's scars. Even so, Allen listened to every word, arms crossed and nodding with understanding.

 

Mark couldn't bring himself to mention the true relation between him and Him. To Mark, and now to Allen, he was the only Viltrumite that was good enough to hide his fangs.

 

“So… you're a Viltrumite?” Allen questions once Mark is done. “But you don't work for them? And that guy tried to take over the planet, but then… left? He just left? That's nuts, man.”

 

“Yeah.” Mark nods slowly. “As far as we can tell, he's just gone.”

 

“That is super weird for a Viltrumite.” Allen rubs his chin, thinking heavily. “They don't just give up; they're relentless. Hell, being gone eight years without even a trace of Him is insane!”

 

“You really do know a lot about them.” It came out colder than Mark intended.

 

Allen sighs, a painful look appearing on his stoic face. “They destroyed my world when my people rebelled against them. They blew up our planet rather than lose it. We've been trying to stop them ever since, but… no one has found a weakness.”

 

Mark’s chest tightens, the imagery already clear in his head; the world he grew up in filled with fire and death flooding the once clean air. Everyone he had ever cared about– Cecil, Donald, Eve, Rex– laying in their own pool of blood, empty eyes staring at Mark, wondering why he wasn't strong enough to save them, save the planet, the innocent people on it.

 

“Jesus. I'm sorry.”

 

Allen shakes his head. “I should be the one–”

 

Mark turns and starts flying back towards the direction of Earth. “I really appreciate it, Allen. I didn't know anything about my heritage until, well, now.”

 

“Of course!” Allen beams, waving after Mark. “Hope to see you soon, Invincible!”

 

Just as Mark was about to take off, Allen's voice invaded his headspace for the final time.

 

“Wait! Real quick! Uh, just out of curiosity, did you ever get that guy's name?”

 

Ah. That makes sense. Mark's breathing picked up. Some days, it was easy to spit out His name like an insult one would throw around to mock someone that held hate in their heart. Other days, it felt like glass being pushed down Mark's throat, filling his airway with blood as if it was a curse he was forbidden to mention again. Sometimes, Mark couldn't even remember it, only thinking of the blurry face in his memories, the name scribbled out whenever he looked at it or it popped into his head. A forbidden piece of Hell that nearly had a mind of its own.

 

He said it once three days ago. He said it once again two days ago. Two days without muttering the name. The title slipped out easily, like a calm stream passing through. Now it tied his tongue tightly in his mouth, holding it in place with a strong, painful grip.

 

“Invincible?”

 

Even then, Mark will never forget the name for as long as he lives.

 

“Nolan. His name was Nolan.”

 

____

 

Mark quietly sneaks his way through an open window, gently pushing himself inside and landing quietly on his feet. His fingers take hold of the window and slowly closes it, hoping no one notices the small change in the silent environment. He glides down the hallway, keeping one hand against the wall. He makes it to the familiar brown door, a bit out of place compared to the rest of the area, but it was home to Mark nonetheless.

 

He creaks the barrier open, floating inside his bedroom with ease. He breathes a sigh of relief, shutting the door behind him and removing his headgear. His index finger finds the light switch, flipping it on and ready to–

 

”Mark.”

 

Crap.

 

Cecil sat in his bed with his shoes planted firmly on the ground, arms crossed, and the meanest scowl Mark had seen from him in a while. He was still in his party suit, though it was more wrinkly than an hour ago when Mark last saw him.

 

“...Hey–”

 

“Sit. Now.”

 

Mark obeys without question, walking over to his desk chair and pulling it out, taking a seat as he safely plants the helmet on his lap. They sit there in silence for a while, Mark shifting his feet a little as he looks around his bedroom.

 

“...It’s–”

 

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

 

Yep, there it is.

 

“I panicked!”

 

“You did not panic! We taught you how to keep calm under stressful situations!”

 

Fair point.

 

“I thought it was Him!”

 

“So your first instinct was to dive headfirst into a fight without a plan?!”

 

“Yes! No! Maybe?”

 

Mark wasn't exactly sure what he was doing.

 

“It wasn't Him, though! It was some alien named Allen!”

 

“I don't care if it was Him or not, Mark!”

 

Cecil stood from the bed and stomped over to the younger man, glaring down at the young hero.

 

“Do you realize what could have happened if we lost track of you in space?!” Cecil's tone was sharp and on edge, a clear sign that he was pretty pissed off. “Or if that really was Him? You had your first mission three days ago, Mark! You haven't had enough time to adjust to your new routine! What if something happened to you up there?”

 

Mark's nose scrunches, feeling a boiling heat well inside his chest. “I've been trained to protect Earth since I was a kid–”

 

“Don't pull that bullshit on me.”

 

Mark flinches at the thicker tone change of Cecil's voice, looking up at the older director. The white-haired man huffs, noticing the look on Mark's face. His eyes softened slightly, but he still held the stern stance of a man who's at his limit.

 

“Get some sleep.” It was almost like a demand, lifting his wrist and hovering a wrinkly finger over the flashy device. “We are going to have a serious talk about this tomorrow.”

 

A bright blue flash blinds Mark for a second before it's gone in an instant. The half-human groans, placing the headgear on his desk and standing up, dragging his feet to his closet. He looks down at the black and green suit, touching the side of it, then glancing at one of the empty hangers in the walk-in space.

 

Will this be fine if I leave it on a hanger? Mark thinks to himself. He couldn't exactly keep it anywhere else, but it was far too stretchy. He brought out a couple of the hangers and removed the heroic suit, placing the robotic shoulder pads on the desk next to his helmet. He tried for several minutes to get some of them fitted into the tight collar, almost successfully a couple of times, but it didn't work out.

 

In the end, Mark gives up and simply folds and places the decorative suit on the desk as well. Then he takes his time fitting into pure black pajamas, turning off the light in his room, and finally settling into bed, flopping backwards onto his back, eyes staring up at the grey ceiling. Just as he was starting to drift off, his phone buzzed to life. The black-haired hero debated whether or not to let it ring and call it a night, but his curiosity struck him first, so he rolled to his side and picked up the small device.

 

Rex💥 wants to FaceTime you!

 

Mark nearly drops his phone on his face from shock. Rex only usually calls when he's drunk and randomly wants to FaceTime Mark, or he needs something and he wants Mark to get it because his flying abilities basically cut every hour-long trip down to ten or fifteen minutes. Mark sits up quickly, fixing his hair and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he presses the green phone icon.

 

“Hi, Rex.”

 

“Sup, bro.”

 

Instantly, he sees Rex's ragged face staring down at his phone from his end. Mark clicks his teeth, observing Rex's sharp features. His hair was down again, and despite its rough condition, his face was wet and glossy.

 

“...So–”

 

“How was space?”

 

Ah.

 

“...It wasn't an attack.” Mark leans back, his lower spine resting on the colorful pillows behind him. “He was an evaluation officer.”

 

Rex nods, seemingly understanding. “Ah. Okay, okay. So, no one got hurt?”

 

Mark shakes his head.

 

“And we aren't going to be conquered by another space alien army?”

 

Mark shakes his head again.

 

“Alright. Cool. Very cool… WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!”

 

Mark moves his head away from the phone, wincing slightly as Rex's loud voice booms through the device.

 

“I wasn't thinking at all!” Mark argues, turning the volume down as he brings his phone close to his face again. “An approaching figure was heading towards Earth at supersonic speed and I… was thinking about the worst possible scenarios.”

 

“Yeah, no shit.” Rex scoffs, placing his phone against something to help it stand. “I thought it was my job to dive headfirst into stupid-ass danger.”

 

“It still is.” Mark grumbles, glaring down at the small device in his hand. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was genuinely panicking.”

 

Mark then realized Rex must have just gotten out of the shower, because his entire upper body was exposed, wet and shiny, and he was combing his hair back while looking directly at something else, probably the mirror. The background did look like his base’s bathroom, so that explains a lot. He took this opportunity to glance down at Rex's pecs and–

 

He instinctively looks away when Rex looks back at the phone.

 

“Okay, how about this,” Rex leans down and rests his elbows on the bathroom counter, “because we've both had a shitty day, I won't get mad at you for being an idiot by flying headfirst into space, but you have to promise to not be mad at me for insulting some weird little girl adult that nearly beat my ass earlier, alright?”

 

“That's a weird difference– little girl adult?” Mark blinked when it registered what Rex had just said to him, looking back at his phone, “What does that mean?”

 

“Oh, uh,” Rex leans away and ducks down, the squeak of a cabinet echoing through the phone's speaker, “yeah, after I apparently “embarrassed”–” Rex's hands popped into frame to do air quotations, then ducked again out of sight, “Amanda, the monster by the way at the party, Eve invited her over to the Teen Team Base to make up for it, as well as inviting that girl you were talking to.”

 

Mark choked on his spit, coughing a couple of times as he hit his chest over and over. “Rae?”

 

Half of Rex's face popped into frame again, one brow raised up as he stared directly at the phone. Mark frowned, knowing that look.

 

“No.”

 

“You remember her name, bro.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“I mean they are cute–”

 

Mark's chest tightens. “I'm gonna throw you into the sun.”

 

“You'd miss me.”

 

Mark glanced away and stared at the ceiling as Rex continued to dig out some stuff, probably his skincare supplies.

 

“I’m just saying, you're both heroes,” Rex stands as he puts a bunch of bottles and caps down, “you both know how to rock people's shit–”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Rae has stories. Anyway! I'm rooting for you two–”

 

“Now you're just asking to be thrown in the sun.”

 

“Mark and Rae kissing in a tree–”

 

“You're a child, you know that?”

 

Rex shrugs, leaning close towards probably-the-mirror again. “I am a very mature adult that wants my other very mature adult best friend to get a hot girlfriend.”

 

Mark takes a deep breath. “Rex.”

 

“Yo?”

 

“I'm gay.”

 

Rex pauses and slowly pans towards the camera, staring at Mark through the other end. The black-haired hero stared back at him, waiting for a response, feeling his face pale.

 

“No shit?” The dark redhead questions.

 

“...No shit.” The other boy replies, completely serious.

 

Rex stares at him for another couple of seconds, then he says, “So are you making googly eyes at the front counter guy at the comic book store?”

 

“Dude!” Mark's face turned a bright pink. “Seriously?! That's your first thought?!”

 

“What?! I gotta ask!” Rex defends him, holding up his hands. “That explains why you try to go there as much as possible!”

 

“For Seance Dog books!” Mark smacked the side of his face. “You are impossible.”

 

“So I've been told.” Rex tweets, satisfied with himself. “So, uh, you only like dudes?”

 

Mark hesitantly nods.

 

“And you've known since…?”

 

Think of a lie.

 

“Last year.”

 

Could've been better.

 

“And when was I going to know?” Rex crosses his arms, angling his head towards the phone. Mark feels himself about to laugh.

 

“Uh, maybe next year? I don't know, didn't think that far.”

 

“Well,” Rex reaches up and pushes his wet hair back, “now I just feel awkward.”

 

Mark's heart dropped, thinking this was it; he was never going to talk to Rex again because the other man was going to cut him off, and they'll live as the ex-best friends who broke apart because Mark was unfortunate to have the biggest secret–

 

“If I had known that, I would have teased you about guys instead.”

 

The biggest weight of fear had disappeared from his body all at once. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.” Rex does a one-shoulder shrug. “I mean, before I was getting on to you about girls, but you don't even like them like that! No wonder you didn't ask for Rae’s number.”

 

Mark snickers, shifting his position in bed so he was lying down. “She seems nice, but I don't really know anything about her. We only talked about Seance Dog.”

 

“Wanna change that?”

 

“I don't think Cecil wants me–”

 

“Mark.”

 

Rex picks up his phone so his face is closer to the screen. “Mark, my man, my buddy, the pudding to my spoon.”

 

“Dude what–”

 

“You're eighteen now.” Rex reminds him. “I think you can afford to live a little. Plus, you look like you need a mental break, and Sea Salt isn't the best guy to receive those from.”

 

“Sea Salt?”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause it kind of sounds like that.” Rex grins. “Alright, look, I won't force you to come if you don't want to, of course. But my offer is out there.”

 

Mark looks over at the folded suit that rests on his desk. Technically, he was on the clock for whatever, whenever, and he didn't want to leave the GDA or Cecil stranded in case they needed him. But he hasn't been to the base in over a year, and a lot of his hangouts with everyone else were always short-lived or never felt like he had enough time. Plus, it was only for tonight, and it's not like Cecil would send him out again after the stunt he pulled earlier that night.

 

“So, we can just watch that little animated show you like so much–”

 

“I'm coming.”

 

“Great! See you soon!”

 

____

 

Mark arrived at the Golden State Bridge a little over thirty minutes later. He was dressed in his typical comfortable clothing for outings; a dark navy green shirt with khaki pants and black shoes. He was carrying a small bag over his shoulders as he walked up to the large door, giving it a couple of knocks with his knuckles, then taking a step back and waiting for it to unlatch. Within seconds, it flies open, and here comes out the one and only Rex Splode; hair back in its normal bun style, wearing a baggy yellow shirt with grey sweatpants, looking like he just walked straight out of an Adam Sandler movie. Despite the lazy look, Mark's stomach felt filled with butterflies.

 

“Hey hey! Starman himself!” Rex gleams, stepping out and straightaway pulling Mark into a hug. “My knight in shining armor.”

 

“Cheap.” Mark says, hugging back, then letting Rex pull away. “Good to know your face is already looking better.”

 

“Sea Salt gave me that disgusting green crap for healing and shit.” Rex ushers for Mark to follow, stalking back inside. “At least it works! My teeth have already grown back.”

 

“Cool.” Mark adjusts the bag over his shoulder as he follows after the other hero. “So, Rae and… Amanda, right?” Rex nods. “They're both here? Wow, you really messed up if Robot allowed them to come over without repercussions.”

 

“Like I'd listen to that hunk of metal.” Rex scowls, looking over his shoulder to glare at his friend. “Plus, they're heroes too, so I guess it's an exception.”

 

“Didn't you have to convince him to let me come over a few years ago?”

 

“Yeah, but we were younger, and you were shorter.”

 

“Okay, screw you– why is it dark in here?”

 

Mark reached the stairs by the time he noticed the pitch-blackness inside the base. He calls out to Rex again but hears nothing. Just in case, he lifts himself in the air and glides down, keeping his ears open. He calls out to Eve next, waiting for the familiar source of her powers echoing somewhere inside to glisten, but nothing. Just as he was about to call out again (probably to Kate), the lights suddenly flickered on and something round and big was presented in front of his face.

 

“Surprise!”

 

It was a cake. A chocolate-covered cake with the words “congrats on your first successful mission! :)” frosted onto it. Mark blinks, looking up at the mini group of people in front of him, who were all smiling at the successful hero.

 

Eve was at the very front of everyone, holding the cake up herself. To her right was Kate, who seemed to be holding a small shot glass with her arm resting on the redhead's shoulder. To her left was Robot, who was kind of standing there awkwardly but tried to feel included. Behind the trio were Rae and Amanda; Rae seemed a bit more tired than earlier but was happy to be there nonetheless, while Amanda was standing on her tippy toes, trying to look over Eve and Robot's shoulders.

 

And last but not least was Rex, who had his arm slumped over Mark's shoulder with the biggest shit-eating grin he could form. Mark’s eyes kept darting between the cake and the people around him, his face plastered with shock.

 

“Wow… wow! Oh wow!” Mark laughed, feeling light. “A cake? A surprise party? For me? But we already–”

 

“Your best friend there was upset he ruined it,” the young girl, Amanda, pointed at the taller hero, “so he forced us to set this up when you agreed to come over.”

 

Mark felt Rex's arm tighten around him, and when he glanced over at the darker redhead, his cheeks were slightly flushed with a dark red color.

 

“It wasn't just me!” Rex argues. “Sure, it was my amazing plan, but, uh– Eve helped me orchestrate it!”

 

“All I did was make the cake.” She teases, taking a step back. “Come on, let's help you wind down.”

 

Mark eventually found himself in the living room (or the closest thing to a living room) of the Teen Team Base, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed as he munched away. On the couch sat Kate and Amanda, the duplicated hero still taking a few shots while Amanda was eating a piece of the chocolate sweet. Sitting across from them at the table were Rex and Rae, both having their own share of the cake. Finally, Eve rested on a beanbag Mark recently got for Rex, and Robot stood to the side with his arms behind his back.

 

“So, you de-age?” Mark questions as he bites into a piece. “Like, actually? Everytime you transform?”

 

Amanda nods, chewing. “Yeah, it just kind of happens, you know? I know I look fourteen or whatever, but I'm actually twenty-five. Never got to experience the feel of a club.”

 

“Bummer.” Rex grins, earning a small smack from Eve. “I'm just saying! We could totally sneak you in, though.”

 

“Uh, yeah, count me out.” Kate waves them off. “Last thing we need is to sneak someone who looks like a child into a rowdy bar.”

 

“I mean, they don't always check IDs.” Rae shrugs, placing their plate down. “I’ve gotten into a couple of bars just fine.”

 

“That's illegal.” Mark mutters, stuffing more cake into his mouth. Rae looks at him, amused, while Rex groans.

 

“Sorry, he's like that.” Rex rolls his eyes. “Cursing isn't cool, drinking under twenty-one isn't cool, being out late isn't cool unless it's something I particularly want to do–”

 

Mark shoots him a glare. “It's for training. You just do it to be reckless.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Well, here we go.” Eve chuckles, crossing her arms. “If you two are going to fight, at least take it outside. No one else wants to witness your death matches.”

 

Mark smiles, wiping away some leftover crumbs on the side of his lip. “Um, uh, forget that. I just want to say thank you to everyone. You really didn't need to do this.”

 

“It felt like a nice gesture.” Robot's voice chimed in. “After all, you finally get to experience the life we have grown used to after so many years of waiting.”

 

“Wow, it really took you that long?” Amanda teases, leaning back on the couch. “I’m surprised the GDA allowed you to sit back for as long as you did.”

 

Mark shrugs, shifting his legs. “Uh, Cecil thought it'd be better to wait and make sure I was actually ready before sending me out to fight things.”

 

“The superhuman needed more test runs.” Eve jokes. “He used to ask us all the time about our missions, since we started pretty young.”

 

“Eve!” Mark whisper-yells, his face turning pink.

 

“No, she's right.” Rex clicks. “Used to keep me up all night just asking questions.”

 

“No I didn't!” His face was brighter now. “Okay, nevermind, I hate you all. I'm leaving.”

 

They all burst into laughter as Mark covers his face. He was a bit needy as a teen and always wanted to know what it was like fighting villains from Teen Team’s point of view. Looking back, he really was a desperate hero-in-training.

 

“I mean, I think that sounds nice.” Rae smiles. “Sounds like you wanted to be a hero for a while. Was it always a dream of yours?”

 

“Uh, yeah. Something like that.”

 

Mark suddenly tenses. Rex notices and clears his throat.

 

“So, uh, newbies, you like basketball by any–”

 

The alarm of the base blares through the small building. Rex groans, placing his plate to the side.

 

“Really?! Of all times?”

 

Mark’s superhuman speed flashes between the group as he makes it over to his bag.

 

“You sure?” Eve was instantly next to him, her iconic pink suit already on her. “It was supposed to be for–”

 

“It's fine.” Mark sighs, turning his head and forcing a smile. “I asked to be part of this field, no?”

 

Let's see what else tonight has in store.

Notes:

Mark the type to go "who's there?" during a horror movie scenario while wielding a candle around

For clarification!! Rae uses she/they in this au :))

Chapter 7: Chapter Seven

Summary:

“Good question.” Eve backs away, turning her head to Rex. “Get out of here; I'll handle it.”

 

“Hell no! I'm not leaving you with that thing!”

 

“Go, Rex!”

Notes:

Boom boom we got ourselves a mystery here Scoop! (Not really, but it's a fun guess regardless! Maybe. Idk.)

Feels weird that I'm already on the seventh chapter? Kind of? Sometimes you don't realize how fast stories go until you're writing them, but GDA Mark has completely filled up my brain and now I can't think clearly

Especially with Rex. He's my favorite. I love Rex <3 anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one! It's more action based, which was tough to write (had to go searching in the comics for some references lol) but I had fun regardless! Thanks again for all the support :)

Mark has always wanted to fly.

 

Sure, he's been flying before, and it's wonderful. The way his face felt in the breeze as they passed through the sky, throwing his tiny palms in the air and screaming his lungs out. But he wanted to fly. He wanted to be the one soaring through the skies as his own hands grazed through the clouds without a care in the world. Often, this would only happen in dreams. Sometimes, if he tries hard enough, he can feel his feet just ever so slightly lift off the Earth and nearly push him to the stars.

 

But never has he left the ground or ever come close to it.

 

“When do you think I'll be able to fly?” Mark asked as he stared up into the orange sky, kicking his feet as he swung a little. “I wanna fly in the sky like Dad.”

 

He hears a soft chuckle beside him, a small squeak from the swing as his mother rocks herself forward and backward on the old material.

 

“When you get your powers, sweetie.” His mother smiles, her bright pearls visible for all to see. “It might just take a little while.”

 

Mark frowns, slouching and leaning against the chain of the swing. “I want my powers now. Dad said I should be getting them any day, right?”

 

“Something like that.” Debbie tabs her chin, looking towards the sky with Mark. “His heritage is different from mine, so I can't say for sure when it could happen or how to expect it.”

 

He presses his lips together. “I could fly with the birds.”

 

“You could.”

 

Silence fell around them for a moment before Mark heard the soft giggles of his mother slipping through her lips. He lifts his head and turns towards her, eyes slightly wide.

 

“What's so funny?” He asks, his young mind suddenly sparking with curiosity. “Was it something I said?”

 

“No, no.” She continues to giggle, waving her hand. “I just remembered something your grandpa used to tell me when I was a kid.”

 

Mark perks up, and he leans towards Debbie, now undoubtedly curious. Debbie looks around, then copies her son, covering the side of her mouth with her hand.

 

“This will be our little secret, alright?”

 

Mark nods.

 

“He told me when the sun starts going down,” she looks up for a second, “the sky becomes orange because it turns into orange juice.”

 

“What?” little Mark tilts his head. “Orange juice? How?”

 

“Oh, we don't know!” Debbie exclaims happily, sitting back and holding her hands up. “It's a secret of the universe, you see.”

 

“...Does that mean Dad came from orange juice?” Mark asks, completely serious. “Because you said the sky was orange when he first arrived on Earth.”

 

Debbie covers her mouth, eyes shining. “Oh, it seems like he did. Want to ask him when he gets home?”

 

Mark beams, sitting straight. “Yeah! Wait… does that mean Viltrum really likes orange juice? Is that why he came?”

 

He couldn't understand why his mom was trying so hard to hold back her laughter, but soon it erupted into fits, and Mark followed after. He didn't understand it at the time, as he was only happy to laugh because she was laughing, but it was good. Everything was good.

 

Nothing ever comes close to those feelings again.

 

____

 

“God damn it, are you kidding me?”

 

Mark mumbles underneath his headgear, eyes staring at the broken street below. Fire had already begun to spread, blocking most of the attempted escapees from fleeing the scene. The newest among the heroes curses, bringing his fingers to the side of his face shield and pressing a button, green silhouettes replacing the once clear vision.

 

“See anyone trapped?” Eve calls from next to him, flying slightly higher than the black and green hero.

 

“Three are trapped under here,” Mark points to his left at a collapsed pile, “a group by that side,” he points towards a building that had fallen from the destruction, “and everyone else is caught in the middle. So far, everyone is still breathing.”

 

“Looks like we're playing rescue.” Rex says from behind, peeking over at the city within Robot’s flying machinery. “We know who's attacking yet?”

 

“I'm still collecting the data.” Robot says, speeding next to Mark. “But it does appear to be a group attack. Perhaps the Lizard League?”

 

“The Lizard League is too ridiculous for that.” Eve comments, her hands glowing. “If anything, maybe we came across a new group?”

 

“It doesn't matter.” Mark’s voice breaks through. “All we know is that everyone down there is in danger. We have to hurry and help them.”

 

“Of course.” Robot says, turning his metal head towards the fleshy man. “I will land soon, then we will gather as many people as possible–”

 

“I don't mean to ruin the moment, but can we hurry up and land? I'm about to fall off here!”

 

Amanda held desperately onto the back of the flying vehicle, arms wrapped firmly around the orange piece as she hastily looked down, her face stuck in a horrified expression. Rae, who had shrunk down to bug size, was hanging onto Amanda's shoulder with more of a neutral expression, peeking over at the citizens below. Rex turns in his seat, hissing a little upon seeing the state the shorter hero was in.

 

“Sorry, there's only four of us, and Eve can fly, so.” He shrugs. Mark shakes his head, letting go of the current conversation. The redhead in pink follows along, looking at Mark with a serious gaze.

 

“Mark, follow me towards the center of the fire. Maybe we can catch whoever's doing this and end it quickly.” She demands, speeding ahead. Mark wastes no time, easily catching up to her speed and soaring towards the tall blaze that blocked everything else out from view.

 

The duo flies through the smoke, halting when they see more citizens caught in the crossfire. The dark haired man grunts, ready to dive down when a hoarse, ear-bleeding laugh had caught hold of the half-human’s attention.

 

Mark recognized the laughter from multiple recordings in Cecil's office. “Wait, this isn't a group attack. Bi Plane? Seriously?”

 

“Oh,” Eve looks at Mark, “is he that guy that's obsessed with robbing banks and terrorizing people?”

 

“Yeah, he's…” Mark sighs. “Whatever. Let's get this situated.”

 

“Agreed, I wasn't planning on being up this late.” Eve shrugs, then dives down towards the maniac. Mark was about to follow suit when something dropped in front of his face, a red dot staring back at him. His arms fall, staring back at the drone.

 

“I–”

 

“Mark.” Donald's voice came through. Thank God. “Give us the rundown. Quickly.”

 

“At least an entire block is under attack.” Mark reports, looking around. “Teen Team and I, as well as Shrinking Rae and Monster Girl, are taking care of the situation, being led by Bi Plane.”

 

“Right.” Donald's voice ceased for a moment. “We'll be sending backup on the way there. Keep us updated.”

 

Mark nods, ready to fly off, when the agent's voice cuts clean through again.

 

“We updated your suit’s abilities a few days ago.” Donald swallows, his voice slightly dry. “Um, Cecil wanted to surprise you with the new tweaks, but unfortunately we're going to have to cut that out of the picture.”

 

“Got it. What can I do now?”

 

“Check your right palm.”

 

Mark lifts his arm and looks down at his right hand. To his shock, wondering how he didn't notice this earlier, there was a new black square on the green palm of his suit. He glances back at the drone.

 

“Press the tips of your fingers on the square.” Donald commands. Mark does as he's told, and suddenly he can barely see his own arm, only a small see-through layer of it. “That allows you to turn invisible whenever you'd like. You can partly see yourself, but we cannot see you. Neither can any enemies that you face.”

 

Mark feels himself grinning, pressing again, and becoming visible. “This is so sick. Thanks, Donald!”

 

Without further ado, Mark boosts into the air and flies after Eve. He sees her in the distance, forming a shield in front of her as tiny missiles come her way. She growls, glaring as she immediately forms a giant pink mace and swings it after the villain, but he dodges just as fast, laughing maniacally.

 

“You won't get me this time, ginger girl!” He yells, pressing multiple buttons with as many missiles coming out than before. Eve speeds past the deadly projectiles, a pink gauntlet sparking in her hand as she winces her arm back and swings down, hitting the base of his wrinkled face. The villain yells again, covering his now bloody nose as his metal wings turn in their position and boost him backwards, trying to avoid any more hits from the younger woman.

 

Unexpectedly, the metal wings open and more miniature missiles shoot out, but this time not at Eve. Instead, they flew down towards the streets, aiming at the pedestrians. Eve, in a panic, abandoned the plane freak and flew down towards the innocent, extending her hands and shielding them from the upcoming attack. Mark quickly took her spot; he pressed his fingers into his palm and seemingly vanished into thin air. The flashy hero hovers above, spotting Bi Plane ahead as he tries to make his grand escape.

 

Mark dashes off after him, clenching his fist as he nears the grim, skinny old man.

 

“This place is toast, you filthy hero team!” He calls out, pressing several buttons again. More projectiles came flying, going in different directions and crashing into several buildings and sidewalks. Mark growled, boosting his way after him. The rippling shriek of the air breaking around Mark has caused the old man to look up, trying to spot the source of the noise, only to meet the surprise of a hard hit that knocked him towards the ground. He bashes through a few cars on the way before skidding to a stop on the street, landing on his hands and knees.

 

Mark nears and presses into his palms, appearing in front of the villain with a bold stance. “Ignorance doesn't look good on you, Bi Plane.”

 

The old man hisses, forcing himself up. “Where did you come from?!”

 

The GDA agent crosses his arms, an unseen sly smile creeping on his face. “That's for me to know and for you to find out when you're rotting away in the strongest prison in America.”

 

Mark rushes down and grabs hold of the villain of the week's arm, preparing to detain him when the creepy man quickly reaches to his side, and a soft click echoes between them before a detonation of flames appears from all sides of the metal wings, and he bursts out of Mark's grasp. With a grunt, Mark flies after him, already matching the pace of the aggressor.

 

“You have one last chance to surrender yourself.” Mark says blatantly. “I'm warning you this once.”

 

“You fool!” He screeches, not questioning how Mark is already up to speed. “It’s already too late! I'm going out, and I'm taking the whole city with me! I've lined my suit with plutonium!”

 

What?! Who just does that?!

 

Mark grabs his shoulders and stills him in the air, trying to think of what to do. He looks towards the stars, and an idea pops into his head. He remembers something Immortal had said two Christmases ago when Cecil was throwing another work party.

 

“Hey, uh…” this was more awkward than he thought, “sorry about the cancer, by the way.”

 

In seconds, Mark was at the edge of the atmosphere. His grip tightens, he locks into place, then he spins around for a second or two before his fingers let go of the struggling man and hurl him right into the endless abyss. Mark backs away, listening for a moment.

 

Nothing. Only the wind greeted him from above the city.

 

“When in doubt,” Mark chuckles, “just throw them into space.”

 

The newfound peaceful silence was broken when a bloodcurdling shriek echoed from below.

 

____

 

“Shit, how many buildings got crushed?!”

 

Rex huffs as he glances behind his shoulder, seeing Eve and Kate evacuate as many citizens off the streets as they could, the fires starting to spread further than they wanted. He sees Eve clasp her hands together and lift an entire wall out of the road. A group of citizens were huddled away inside, eyes wide and terrified.

 

“Hurry! This way!” The redhead yells, watching as they all scramble out of the collapsing building. “When was Bi Plane an actual threat to civilization?!”

 

“Beats me!” Rex coughs, covering his mouth with his arm. “I think that's the last of them. Holy shit, finally–”

 

The ground shakes. Rex and Eve freeze as they silently look at each other, both startled by the sudden movement. Then, a large, crimson lava-like arm breaches from the ground and slams its claw-like hand on the dirty road. Rex steps back, eyes widening at the sight in front him. He didn't have time to register the broken concrete below his feet ten seconds away from bursting until a Kate clone shoved him out of the way, causing the man to fall on his side. Rex glances up and sees Kate’s body impaled by a long, sharp spike that looks almost like a needle.

 

“Oh, fuck.” Rex mutters, scooting back as Eve flies in front of him and forms a wall around them. The ground breaks more, and suddenly, a loud, bloodcurdling scream echoes around them as a giant, glowing magma-like body bursts from the ground, several arms and legs from one body alone pulling its way from the underground of the Earth. The duo quickly skitters off when the fat of the body falls on the broken road, more of its horrific screeching consuming the smokey hot air around them.

 

“What the fuck is that?!” Rex yells, pulling out a capsule and lighting his arm with a bright glow.

 

“Good question.” Eve backs away, turning her head to Rex. “Get out of here; I'll handle it.”

 

“Hell no! I'm not leaving you with that thing!”

 

“Go, Rex!”

 

The monster lifted its dripping arm and swung towards the loud duo. Eve’s wall manages to stop the assault, but not without a shattering hit that nearly knocks them off their feet.

 

When it backs off, Rex takes this opportunity to step forward and chuck two explosives into its round eyes. Once they go off, the unknown monster growls and leans in, curling its mouth back and showing rows of sharp, jagged teeth hidden underneath. Eve grunts and dashes towards it, a spiked shield forming in front of her, and clashing right into the molted skin.

 

“Find the remaining survivors and–” Eve calls out to her teammate, but the monster throws its head back and slams down on the made-up barrier. Even with multiple spikes piercing its skin and its bright orange blood dripping on the shiny force, it continues to screech and press down, its tongue practically shattering on the coverage, still trying to get to the ginger. Rex grabs something bigger from the ground– felt like a broken scooter– and lits it up as fast as possible before throwing it right into the lava creature's face. It squints, removing itself from the shiny surface and looking directly at the tinier hero.

 

“...Shit.”

 

Rex turns and starts to haul ass, the magma beast immediately giving chase. The stumbling man kept throwing as many capsules and gadgets as he could, yelling at this thing to fuck off, but it only grew angrier. He heard Eve yell from afar, but he was too busy running for his life to really focus on what she was saying in the first place.

 

Then, a sickening squinch breaks through Rex's eardrums, and he takes the risk of turning around and seeing another set of… gigantic spikes piercing through the lower half of the bug’s– it looks like a bug– body. Eve’s figure breaks through as she zooms over to Rex and grabs him by the armpits, hauling him into the air just as the monster was whipping its body around to look at the damage done to it.

 

“Thanks, babe.” Rex grins, joking. She rolls her eyes, floating on top of a large building. She settled them down, her wide eyes instantly locking back onto the monster below.

 

“Jesus, that's one ugly motherfucker.” Rex cringes when he sees how its legs are moving.

 

“It's ginormous.” Eve heaves, holding her side. Rex hadn't even realized she got injured. “You need to find the others and get out of here.”

 

“Like I said, I'm not leaving you.” Rex grimaced, eyes narrowing. “That thing nearly crushed you, Eve!”

 

“And it nearly killed you!”

 

“I was fine!”

 

“So was I!”

 

They glared at each other for a moment, but the sounds coming from below snapped them out of their little spat.

 

“Fine, just… I know you are completely capable of defending yourself,” Rex places his hands on her shoulders, “but that thing is scary and has lava pouring out of its body, so I have to say be careful, alright?”

 

Eve flicks his shoulder. “I'm always–”

 

Something flies past them at lightning speed. Eve instantly covers her and Rex, forming them in a bubble as something collides into the rough creature below.

 

____

 

Mark's first instinct was to tackle this creature out of the way and get it out of the city. He didn't think of the consequences that would follow if he went too above and beyond in his quick second plan.

 

He heard the crashes and falls of multiple homes and businesses around him as his hands pressed against the unknown enemy, hurling it towards what he hopes is the direction of the ocean. He pushes harder, trying to drive it further, but the many legs of the lava-like beast clawed and dug into the once peaceful streets until it puffed out its chest area and twitched its body, suddenly flipping itself and nearly taking Mark with it if he didn't dodge out of the way in time and hover over the opponent high in the dark sky. He looks ahead and sees they're barely close enough to the ocean, not even an area where there are fewer people. Everyone should have evacuated by now, but a situation like this only leaves things feeling dangerous.

 

He looks at the damage done. Too many impulsive moves were made; he has to choose his next set of actions carefully. With a grunt, he presses his palms and flies lower to the beast, supposedly vanishing from its perspective. Its body– the lower part of it gone– clenched and scolded, forcing its torso around as its spine loudly crackled. Mark cracks his neck, readies himself, and dives down again. He smashed himself hard against its skull, feeling the bits of lava and orange blood splutter onto him like rain. It falls over, its body now frantically squirming as its legs try to catch Mark in the air, but to no avail.

 

I gotta thank Cecil for this invisible stuff later.

 

To Mark's surprise, the ground around the beast starts forming, and soon borders of pink morph into the hard concrete and form around the bug-like creature. Mark whips around to see Eve heading his way, her face of pure concentration as her hands glow the bright light color. The newer hero appears in sight again once Eve is close enough to him.

 

“Thanks.” Mark gives a thumbs-up. “Have any idea where this thing came from?”

 

“Nope.” Eve shakes her head, stopping mid-flight next to Mark. “One moment we were saving people, and the next this thing was here.”

 

“Spooky.” Mark turns back to the giant bug. “Alright, let's finish this–”

 

Just like that, a giant wave comes barreling out of the ocean and strikes its clear blue water right into the fire-based creature. Another scream, more leg twitching, before a figure comes crashing out of the sky and smashing into its red eyeball. The duo freeze, watching as familiar faces begin to show up. Mark feels his pulse rising when he sees a blue and white suit stand from his supposed prize.

 

“Looks like the Guardians finally showed up.” Eve chuckles, her head falling slightly. “Thank God, I was getting tired.”

 

“I had that.” Mark grumbles. “I had– you saw me– aw, come on!”

 

Just as Mark's complaints were about to pull through his own restraints, a dark flash darted past them, then circled around and halted in front of the duo.

 

“You two should head back and help the remaining citizens before the whole block caves in.”

 

Mark bit his tongue, letting Eve take the conversation from here.

 

“We will. Thank you, Darkwing.”

 

The disappointed hero follows Eve back towards the carnage, only feeling that gloomy feeling for a moment longer until he sees the remaining state of the block of homes and immediately dives back into action. He spends the remaining hour or so lifting and moving the ruins of homes and businesses, watching as either multiple Kates, Rae, Amanda, or Rex carry the injured away and towards the surviving group that had formed at the edge of the carnage.

 

On his own, Mark lifts a large, broken fragment of stone, his headgear immediately picking up on active body heat on the other side. He tosses the first set away, then lifts the bottom part and sees a sight that makes his body freeze on instinct.

 

Underneath was a boy and his mother. The boy, no older than ten, looks up at Mark with teary eyes, clinging onto his unmoving mother. Her head had been struck on the side, her forehead coated in red as her arms tried to stay wrapped around her son, even in an unconscious state. Mark felt his stomach twist and turn, and he quickly tossed that rocky piece off to the side before crouching down, slowly reaching for the two of them.

 

“Don't worry, I got you.”

 

Mark carefully settles the boy into his arms, then scoops the mother up and cradles her against him. He takes off in the air at urgent speed, the dark sky slowly becoming lighter as daybreak begins to move in. The soldiers with the same headgear as Mark had finally arrived, helping what they could with the heroes until the area was officially cleared out. He gently places the small family on the ground, letting one of the paramedics take the mother to treat her wound. The young boy looks up at Mark with puffy eyes and, carefully, Mark places his hand on the small shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze.

 

“You were very brave.” Was all the hero could say before he stands and hovers away, finding the others in no time as they gathered up from the wreckage.

 

“Aahhh, shit.” Rex groans as he falls back on his ass, pressing his back against one of the remaining standing walls of a building they were close enough to. “Fuck. That was more work than I thought.”

 

“I was told Bi Plane was a D-list villain at best.” Rae joins in, sitting across from Rex. “Where did he get a giant cockroach as a pet?”

 

“He didn't.”

 

With no warning, Cecil appears in front of the group, the flash of the blue lighting blinding them for only a second. Rex, as usual, jumps at the unexpected action. He inhales sharply, pressing his palms together and bringing them to his mouth as he glares at the old director.

 

Cecil ignores him as he turns towards the direction of Mark. The younger man awkwardly lowers his head, just now remembering he left again without telling Cecil, and now here he was, in full suit and gear with the Teen Team, surrounded by fire and destruction, and just finished fighting a giant lava bug monster with barely a scratch on him.

 

“His little weapons,” Cecil turns, putting his focus back on everyone else, “must have caught the thing's attention. From our reports and what we observed, it was traveling close to the surface when Bi Plane started attacking. It came up, tried to cause a fight, and well… the Guardians are taking care of it now.”

 

Eve and I were doing just fine. Mark crosses his arms in silence. Eve cut it in half and trapped it after Mark was done throwing it around like it was a ragdoll. Eve and Mark looked at each other, unamused.

 

“We'll gather up the survivors and get everything situated.” The old director nods towards the following soldiers. “Thank you for your hard work.”

 

“Thank God.” Kate groans, steadying herself on a broken rock. Mark cautiously floats in the air and turns, ready to make a break for it.

 

“Agent Invincible. My office. Now.”

 

Damn it.

 

“Yes, sir.” Mark sighs, looking over his shoulder. Cecil still wasn't looking at him, but everyone else did have their attention on the two. Mark looks at Rex, who was already worryingly gazing at him, and he hesitantly gives a thumbs-up before he takes off into the soon-to-be morning sky.

 

____

 

He's been waiting for an hour.

 

Mark sulked against the chair of the director’s office, tapping his fingers against the hard piece of his headgear and kicking his feet a little. He looks over at the clock on the wall; seven am. He groans, throwing his head back. This was definitely some sort of punishment Cecil had planted for him for not only running off once but twice.

 

The click of the door caused Mark to jump a little, immediately turning his upper body to look at the upcoming person, and just as he expected–

 

“Morning, Mark.”

 

“Morning, Cecil.”

 

He watches as the older man gradually walks his way over to the desk, rounding to the other side while keeping his icy eyes on Mark. The hero's warm eyes held his, determined to not break eye contact as the director pulled out his chair and took a seat.

 

“So,” the white-haired man folds his hands on the shiny surface, “how are we starting this?”

 

Mark's nose wrinkles. “Well, you usually start them, and I only get to say stuff after you do, so…”

 

“True,” Cecil creaks, “but this time I'm letting you explain first, clearly and truthfully, this time.”

 

Well. That's not too bad. He's calmer this time, but he was still holding Mark by the scruff for his misbehavior, especially with the two stunts he's pulled in one night alone.

 

“Okay, uh,” Mark gently placed the headgear down, “so… technically, I don't have an excuse for the… uh… first one.”

 

“First one of what?”

 

I should have gone to bed.

 

“...Flying off when I'm not supposed to?” The black-haired man says slowly, studying Cecil's face as he continues. “Especially in space where an unknown lifeform was heading towards Earth and I stupidly went after it because I thought it was you-know-who?”

 

Cecil leans back and crosses his arms. “Mhm. So, no excuse?”

 

Mark shakes his head. “No excuse. I should have stayed back and waited for orders. I'm sorry.”

 

The director says nothing, silently doing his own studying on Mark. The half-human looks around for a moment, sitting back and resting his arms on the chair rest.

 

“And the other part?”

 

Uh oh.

 

“I invited myself over.” Mark says quickly. “I was bummed out about, uh, being wrong, I guess, so I called Rex and told him I wanted to sneak out and hang out with everyone else–”

 

Cecil holds up a hand. “Kid, I know you damn well enough to know that didn't happen.”

 

“Kind of…?” Mark shrugs. “I mean, I did go over.”

 

“I noticed.” The older man groans. “Alright, let me guess, Rex invited you over, and you went because the guy you fought wasn't Nolan and didn't like the fact I got on your ass for it?”

 

He's silent, looking towards the window of the morning sky, then cautiously nods.

 

“But I was there to stop the monster.” Mark comments. “Well, before the Guardians showed up.” He pouts, sulking a little.

 

“So I was told.”

 

Silence. Mark was about to make an excuse to head out of the room and stay in his own bedroom for the rest of the day and mope in the dark, only for Cecil to beat him to his wimpy, made-up let-off.

 

“Mark,” he adjusts in his seat, “I can't actually tell or make you do anything. You're very much aware of this, right?”

 

Where is this going?

 

“If anything, you can walk out of this room, fly to Amsterdam, and stay there for an entire weekend, and I wouldn't have any control over that. But you don't do that, do you?”

 

“No.” Mark rises in his seat. “Why would I do that?”

 

“Because I know you, and I know not only do you want to set up the best example for yourself, but for other people that can't defend themselves like you can.”

 

Oh. Oh.

 

“You’ve always wanted to be a hero everyone looks up to, feel safe around, constantly saving the day. I remember all of that, because it was the one thing you ever wanted since you were ten years old. And at one point, I started doubting myself.”

 

“What?” Mark was taken aback, surprised to hear such words come from the older man's mouth. “Why? When have you ever doubted yourself?”

 

“When you were getting stronger.” Cecil admits, looking towards the window. “I was worried I was pushing you too much or too little of what you needed. It got to a point where…”

 

There was a pregnant pause, Cecil trying to find the right words to say.

 

“Anyway,” the topic shifts just as quickly, “you communicate, listen, and do what you're told because you want to be the best example of a hero across the entire globe. The typical ‘hero that knows right from wrong saves everyone from every attack that sneaks its way into the city and has everyone rely on him because they know he can get the job done.’”

 

Cecil stands, once again walking around the desk and towards the younger man. “Let me guess, you expect everyone here to rely on you, too. You think everyone here is counting on your protection and strength, huh?”

 

Mark opens and closes his mouth. He blinks a couple of times, processing the callout completely, until finally he chokes out his own words.

 

“I was… afraid.” Mark admits, brows knitting. “I thought he was… Nolan. I thought Nolan finally came back, ready to kill everyone else I care about so he could take me to the Empire, or, well, he'd probably kill me too.”

 

He looks away, shoulders dropping as his brown eyes begin to grow glossy.

 

“That’s why I left the way I did. My only thought was killing him and protecting Earth, but I didn't even have a plan or an idea on how I was going to do it! By the time I stopped fighting Allen, that's when it occurred to me that I… I did it again.”

 

“Mark, that was different.”

 

“It still has the same feelings as last time.”

 

Cecil sighs, a wrinkled hand gradually extending forward and patting the side of Mark's muscular arm. The younger of the two glanced up at Cecil again, brows still knitting in a small, pained expression.

 

“Mark, I trust you, and you trust me.” Cecil leans down a little. “So, let's show it on the battlefield, yeah? Let's prove to everyone we can be relied on because we know we’re the only ones who can save the world.”

 

Mark nods, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, yeah, you're right. Basically, you're the brains, and I'm the brawn?”

 

It was a witty joke that luckily amused Cecil, who let a soft chuckle leave his lips. “Yeah, sure, whatever works for you, kid.”

 

He steps back and motions for Mark to stand. The latter obeys, picking up his headgear as he follows the white-haired man out of the office. He sees Donald in the hallway, holding a conversation with War Woman (when did she get here?). The middle-aged agent sees them and waves at Mark, smiling, and Mark happily copies. Catching her attention, the taller woman turns around and meets Mark's eyes. Deciding why not, Mark waves at her too, and she gradually waves back, a confused yet amused expression on her strong face.

 

“Sooooo…” Mark turns his attention back to the older man. “Am I in the clear?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Damn it.

 

“But tonight, I'll let you rest up, and then I'm talking your ear off tomorrow.”

 

Mark couldn't help but lightly snicker. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Notes:

We love some good ol' totally not father and son bonding time after the son snuck out a few times from home !

Also!! I can't find the account right now but on TikTok someone drew fanart of my fic and I just wanna say thank you so much 🥹🥹🥹 its in my saves somewhere so I'll definitely look for it and send it here unless stated otherwise!! But it made my whole night ty ty ty 😭😭😭 they were drawn so cutely too I instantly saved them lmao ❤️

Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

Summary:

“Heh! That's how you get ahead! …In life. See? It's not quite there. Not there.”

 

His earpiece buzzed. “Kid.”

 

“My bad.”

Notes:

Here comes the airplane (Another chapter)!

I've decided Wednesdays and Saturdays will be my go-tos for chapter updates, whether it's for two updates a week or only one, those days I will be aiming for to write and post (fuck it we ball am I right) (also I know everyone's time zones are different but it's Saturday for me here so HA /j)

This chapter was very action based, and it only increases from here... But surprisingly Invincible makes me wanna write actions scenes, just gotta remember which position they're in and who's punching who lol

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy! :)

“So, Allen, huh?”

 

Mark nods, chewing on his cereal. “Yeah, his name is Allen, and he kind of has firsthand experience with Viltrumites.”

 

Cecil nods, dramatically staring out the window towards the open sky with his hands clasped behind his back. It was a bit later in the day than they both expected, but Mark didn't sleep last night, and he didn't wind up in bed until sometime after eight am. Cecil let him sleep in for the time being, but Mark's usual eight hours was chalked down to five since his body wasn't used to the sudden change. He knew he was going to hate that, but the bathroom and breakfast called first.

 

“He seems just as limited in their existence as we are.” The old director points out, lifting his chin slightly. “Otherworldly beings don't know much about them or their weaknesses. It's kind of ironic, just when we need it.”

 

The younger man shrugs, taking another bite of his breakfast. “There's definitely something. I mean, I'm here, aren't I?”

 

Cecil turns his head, his eyes slightly narrowed. “We've already thrown enough at you. We're not doing any more of that crap.”

 

“What? I'm offering.” Mark snickers, chewing. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

 

“If it's a weakness, you can't.”

 

“I could.”

 

“Mark.”

 

“Cecil.”

 

Mark wasn't usually this brave, but he was still a living being that needed the proper hours to rest, which he definitely didn't get at all. That's probably why Cecil was going slightly easier on him, but he was totally keeping that promise of scolding Mark later tonight or tomorrow morning when the young man had gotten the proper rest.

 

“Anyway,” Cecil turns from the window and walks over to the table, “it’s good to know we're not the only life forms out there that aren't exactly the biggest fans of Viltrumites.”

 

“I definitely never was.” It sounded snappier than he intended, but it was true. “Poor Allen. Hopefully he comes back soon with information.”

 

“Well,” Cecil pulls out a seat across from Mark, sitting down, “it sounds like he and the Coalition of Planets have been doing this for a long time but still lack the information we need to defeat the empire. It's hard to say if we'll get lucky or not.”

 

True. Mark's face twitches, crunching on the cereal in his mouth. If they were lucky, they could find the information themselves, but even Mark doesn't know his own weaknesses. Everything he could think of was thrown at him, and he always ended up fine. The closest they had were the Guardians, but Mark’s abilities had begun to surpass their own. The thought had slowly changed his mood, and he let go of the spoon in his hand and let it sit in the milk-filled bowl.

 

“Kid?”

 

“Am I really Earth's best shot?” Mark questions, more to himself than to the old director in front of him. “I mean, I never went up against another Viltrumite, and I just started doing hero stuff. I'm kind of… nervous, I guess.”

 

Cecil crosses his arms and thinks. “You're stronger than you think, Mark. Your… Nolan hasn't been on Earth since he left eight years ago, and you've had plenty of time to train.”

 

“I still haven't beaten Immortal or War Woman in combat.” Mark frowns. Then again, Immortal doesn't even want to acknowledge his presence; at least Holly was kind enough to lend him a few tricks. “I’m close to Red Rush’s speed; I can outmatch Aquarus, Green Ghost is easy when you catch her, Martian Man I haven't been able to fight since he got that Martian sidekick, and Darkwing… huh, he never offered to fight me, actually.”

 

Mark was copying Cecil now, sitting back against his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. The older man sighs, looking between Mark and his abandoned breakfast.

 

“Is this your way of asking for more training assignments with them?” He asks, completely serious. Mark shrugs.

 

“Probably. I need to be prepared for anything.” The black-haired man replies. “You're the one who taught me that in the first place.”

 

Cecil wasn't exactly amused by the answer, but the corner of his scarred mouth did twitch. “How did we get to this conversation?”

 

“Beats me.”

 

Mark smiles.

 

Cecil smiles back.

 

____

 

A month into his new job, and he was already making quite a name for himself.

 

News spread fast of a new rising hero that matched the energy and strength of the Guardians of the Globe. “Agent Invincible” spread throughout the city like wildfire, and soon enough, the young man was picking up newspapers about his own success.

 

“Oh, this one is from the bank robbery last week.” Mark points at a small section of the newspaper, a small photo of himself in the air with the robber dangling from Mark's fist wrapped harshly around the collar. “I was wondering when they were going to mention that.”

 

“They were too busy reporting Red Rush’s massive group save.” Eve mentions, taking a bite of her burger. “That happened on the same day as the bank robbery.”

 

“Ugh, crap, you're right.” Mark sighs, placing the newspaper down next to him. “Didn't think of that. Then again, it's pretty impressive. A hundred people…”

 

Eve nods, crossing one leg over the other. “I think that's the most he's ever saved.”

 

“He is insanely fast.” Mark picks up his drink, giving it a small shake. “But I'm just as fast.”

 

“Oh boy, here we go.” The redhead looks away, her emerald green eyes looking anywhere else but at Mark.

 

“It's true!” Mark simpers, snapping his fingers. “Trust me! He and I went against each other during training assignments all the time! He even said so himself.”

 

“You always say that.” A soft laugh bounced from her lips. “I do wonder if he actually said that.”

 

“Don't believe me? How cruel.”

 

Originally, it was a slow day for Mark. He was sent out to keep an eye on the city and step in if he needed to, since a lot of heroes were apparently busy this time around. Mark never understood that; a typical year-round “event” where villains attack the most random places, heroes are too busy trying to keep it all under control, and meanwhile the newer or lesser heroes get stuck with the jury duty of superhero-ing.

 

He fought this one guy for a little while, but he was easy to detain and tie to a pole so the GDA could haul him to jail and figure everything else out from there. He hasn't really been doing much, so he tried to invite Rex out for a quick hangout, but the guy hasn't checked his messages since last night. It was when he caught sight of Eve not too far from the shore of town that he decided it'd be a nice time to catch up with her until Cecil orders him back or another villain comes his way.

 

“Anyway,” Eve looks back at the taller man, smirking, “what's going on with you? We've been hanging out for an hour, and all we did was get Burger Mart and talk about your growing fame.”

 

“Oh, crap.” Mark's face flushed. “I'm sorry, I got too caught up in my stuff. How are you doing?”

 

Eve lightly snorts. “Uh, I just asked you what you were doing lately.”

 

“Tell me about your week first. I've already taken most of your time talking about the newspaper.”

 

“So honorable.” She cracks a grin, taking another bite of her food. “Nothing much right now. I'm about to graduate in a few months.”

 

The black-haired man chokes on his drink, feeling the cold liquid jump from his throat, and he begins to cough. Eve, surprised by the sudden burst, quickly starts to pat his back, restraining a giggle as Mark finds his air again.

 

“Really?” Mark asks once he's calmed down. “Already? Oh wow, I didn't realize you graduated so… young? Wait, no, old? Wait, not accurate either.”

 

“I'm at a good age to graduate.” Eve puffs her chest out a little and does a playful flip of her hair. “Once I do that, I'm basically free to do what I want since I'm skipping college.”

 

“Huh? Why?” Mark felt genuinely surprised. He was aware of college, and how it's basically the best bet to get a good job to set up for life. Hell, many of the GDA workers talk about their college years all the time when Mark is eavesdropping on their conversations during a boring day. So, it surprised him when Eve announced it like she wasn't the type to go that far in her education.

 

“Well,” Eve looks towards the city, clicking her tongue, “you already know I moved out of my parents’ place.”

 

Mark nods.

 

“It's just,” Eve twiddled her thumbs, “I went to a community center with a friend… after she got out of the hospital. There, something clicked for me. I think I can help more people by just… helping them, you know?”

 

Her voice drops slightly, her emerald eyes moving away from Mark and towards the foot traffic below.

 

“I don't have to wait for some alien invasion or the Lizard League’s next attack. I can irrigate deserts, stop natural disasters, bring food to the starving… you know; make a real difference. And since I'm kind of moving away from Teen Team,” her voice faltered a little bit with that, “you really notice that stuff once you're out of the city, how many people get hurt and there's just… no one out there to help them.”

 

“I can imagine.” Mark weakly smiles. He can't, not really. He's more used to staying indoors and surrounded by dull colors of a government agency than the natural greens and wildlife unless he was purposely tasked to do something within that range. He shakes that thought out of his head, going back to focusing directly on Eve.

 

Eve shrugs, tucking an orange strand behind her ear. “Heh, it's kind of funny. One minute it's so quiet, then the next a landslide is going off barely a mile from my place.”

 

“Oh?” Mark leans forward. “Is it like an alarm clock?”

 

“Maybe a couple of times.” She giggles, leaning back on her hands. Mark sensed something was off and warily reached out to her arm, a soft expression moving his face.

 

“You okay?” He asks, quiet and gentle.

 

She blinks, almost hesitant. “Y– Yeah, of course. Why?”

 

“You seem… upset.”

 

Eve’s brows furrow. She looks around the area for a second before she sighs and pulls her legs close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

 

“It kind of sucks, in a way.” She chuckles, trying to joke. “My parents and I– well, more like my dad and I– could never see eye to eye. He always has something to yell about. Then I’d yell back, and then boom, drama.”

 

Eve waves her hand a little as she explains. “But you know, still my dad, still my parents, and still my childhood home. It just sucks whenever I visit, I'm basically entering a battle in there itself.”

 

Mark scoots closer and hooks his arm around hers, leaning his head on top of her red hair. “Man, I'm sorry, Eve.”

 

“Oh, shit.” Eve smacked the side of her face, cheeks slightly burning. “Sorry, looks like I got caught up in my own shit too. Guess we're both guilty of that.”

 

“I think you're fine.”

 

“Well, in that case, let's just say we're even for different emotional baggage, yeah?”

 

“You always know what to–”

 

Suddenly, the alarm in Mark's headgear started rapidly beeping, the noise painfully echoing around the duo as they worryingly exchanged glances. Mark quickly picks up the piece and switches it on, placing it on his head as it comes to life.

 

“What's the report?” Mark urgently asked as he and Eve stood up.

 

“Sorry to bother you, kid.” The rough voice of Cecil echoed in his earpiece. “But it looks like we got trouble at Mount Rushmore.”

 

“Got it. We're on the way.” Mark flies in the air, Eve following not too far behind.

 

“What's happening?”

 

“Mount Rushmore. Got any idea who it is?”

 

“Who else do you think hates the past presidents of this place?”

 

Oh.

 

Once the duo arrived, the situation in front of them was messy but not exactly foreign to Mark. He's seen plenty of clips of this guy in the control room or in Cecil's office after the ridiculous villain is dealt with by another hero or one of the Guardians of the Globe.

 

“Looks like Doc Seismic is on the list today.” Mark moped, seeing the damage already spreading from afar.

 

“Ah,” Eve popped her lips, “so basic mad scientist deal?”

 

“Have fun, kids.” Cecil said, very sarcastically. “And try to remember, it's a natural treasure down there.”

 

Mark and Eve find the mad, cartoony doctor in seconds. The old man was standing at the very front of Mount Rushmore, posed like a madman as everything cracked and crumbled around him, ignoring the sounds of citizens screaming and running.

 

Mark felt his sweat run cold from the villain's color pattern.

 

Red and white.

 

White and red.

 

Doc Seismic turned towards the running citizens, his jagged teeth sticking out of his wide, dry smile. “You've come to pray at this obscene monument? They were oppressors! Racists! Slave owners!” His smile drops, his wrinkled hands curling in a fit of rage. “I give you a new God worthy of worship; bow before Doc Seismic!”

 

Doc Seismic turns and waves his hands in the air, the red gadget glowing from right above his head, then he brings his arms together and clinks the two identical pieces together. The Earth shakes at the sudden impact, dust flying everywhere, as suddenly the old mountain heads of the former presidents begin to crack and collapse. Mark and Eve gave a knowing nod to each other before splitting in different directions; Mark flew at high speed towards the falling head of Abraham Lincoln, while Eve zoomed towards the mad scientist, her powers sparking as her speed increased.

 

A ranger, as well as three children, were trying to flee from the scene by the time Mark got there, seeing how they were mere seconds away from being crushed by the rocky (somehow familiar) face. The young hero cracks his neck and dives down, extending his hands, and easy enough–

 

“Gotcha.” Mark muttered under his breath, lifting the rock high above his shoulders as he glided back from the nearly crushed innocents. “Wow, man. I'm still working on my one-liners, but that one was really bad.”

 

Technically, Mark didn't hear anything, but the villain was already spitting out nonsense anyway.

 

Mark jumps in the air and finds the cracked spot that used to hold Abraham Lincoln’s face. With ease, the half-human hero places and pushes the nearly ancient artifact back into place. Mark glides back and places his knuckles on his hips, a sly smirk forming on his hidden face.

 

“Heh! That's how you get ahead! …In life. See? It's not quite there. Not there.”

 

His earpiece buzzed. “Kid.”

 

“My bad.”

 

“No argument from me.” Doc Seismic’s eye twitched from the ground. “NOW DIE!”

 

Mark didn't even flinch as the sound waves came his way, calmly turning around as a pink shield blocked the magic trick from hitting him. Eve appeared beside him with a determined look, huffing.

 

“Thanks, Eve.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

Mark feels his body tense again at the sight of the clothes. The young man shakes his head, trying to push the imagery out of his head, but everytime he looks at Doc Seismic, his own vision begins to tint red.

 

“Mark, what's happening?” Cecil's ragged voice broke through the barrier of Mark's thoughts. Mark ignores him when Eve breaks through the imaginary silence.

 

“We need to take out his gloves.” the redhead comments, pointing at the man below.

 

Mark felt a pet peeve creep in. “Those aren't gloves. Gloves have fingers.” He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers. “Like these. These are gloves.”

 

Eve amusedly smiles at Mark. “Oh, really? Then what are they?”

 

“They're more like… Earthquake bracelets. Ha! You're wearing Earthquake bracelets!”

 

Whatever helped keep him distracted for the meantime.

 

The pink hero whirls back, crying out as she suddenly dashes towards the old man, the after-sparks of powers falling trail beside Mark. The redhead formed multiple energy blasts– that's what Mark calls them– and hurled them at the white and red villain. Despite his age, he dodged them pretty swiftly, only one small cut hitting the tacky collar of his coat. Then he dramatically yells out as his pale hands flew into the air, then came together once more to bang the Earthquake bracelets against each other, sending him boosting in the air and nearly flying away from Eve.

 

Mark watched in some amazement as he began to use this tactic in an attempt to get away. Eve followed closely behind, still shooting her pink darts after him, her powers glowing brighter as her patience grew thin. Mark looks around and spots something ahead that could be useful against a villain such as Doc Seismic.

 

“You should be on my side!” Doc Seismic growls as he lands, then boosts away again. “We can tear down the old power structure and build a new order!”

 

His hands gesture to Eve’s pink costume. “I mean, look at the costume they got you in! Talk about pandering to gender roles!”

 

Eve lands, cocking a brow as her green eyes glared at the bald man. “I designed my own costume.” She says, slightly offended. “And I thought your doctorate was in Seismology.”

 

“Undergrad in Sociology and Women's Studies. I had a minor in African Dance.”

 

From the far left of the battling dance was a floating black and green figure, aiming towards the skies with a boulder as big as a truck held firmly in his grips. While he was distracted, Mark wound his arms back, the giant rock feeling like nothing compared to his strength, before he chucked it right at the mad scientist of a villain.

 

“But enough politics!”

 

Like a dramatic cartoon villain, the bald old man holds up his hand with a wide smile, stopping the boulder mid-air, the force of whatever those bracelets had easily breaking it into pieces around him. Both heroes straightened their posture in shock, the whirlwind of reality settling in that Doc Seismic always thought ahead.

 

The man cries out as the bracelets bang again, the ground below shattering and cracking from underneath them. Mark, luckily, was already in the air as the Earth started to break, but Eve was struggling to hold her ground, shielding her face with her arms as everything around her crumbled. Mark quickly flew to the pink hero, managing to hold against the strong winds, throwing his arms around her and covering her from the force behind him.

 

Suddenly, there was an even larger crack, and the rock below opened up to reveal the hidden depths of bright red-orange heat bursting into the open air, the rocky land moving on its own.

 

Mark heard the panicked screams far ahead of him. His head snaps up to see a family of three on a collapsing piece of Earth, the father holding onto his wife and daughter as the moving rock threatens to let them fall to their utter demise. Mark's vision flashed, and he quickly boosted towards the family, a string of Eve’s power passing the young hero and desperately catching the family in a strong, pink bubble.

 

But the panic wasn't over yet; Eve’s power faltered, and he heard her yell out as the protective barrier suddenly disappeared. He sees the family fall, and his heart merely stops for a second.

 

“No!”

 

Mark lifts and throws his arms in a spin, feeling his body gain more speed and stamina as his body twirls in the air until he halts for a split second, then dives into the crusty Earth and through the hard rock. He easily bolts through the hard area, coming out from the other side with ease and instinctively catching the first thing he sees; the mother falling directly into his arms. He whirls around and catches the daughter as well, quickly pulling her against him before sights of the falling father came into view. In a flash, the GDA hero moved the two other family members in his left arm and swung his right arm down, his hand easily catching the back collar of his shirt.

 

Wasting no time, Mark flew out of the newly formed crater and back onto land, speedily flying them away from the danger zone and to safe ground. Once he finds a safe enough area, Mark places them down gently on the higher rock, the mother and daughter quickly running and embracing each other while the father shook Mark's hand and thanked him. A warm feeling rose in the young hero’s chest, only silently nodding as his feet picked up and he flew back into the air.

 

He wholeheartedly expected to see another brawl match between Eve and Doc Seismic, but there was only lava and debris left lying around in the open area.

 

“Eve!”

 

“Over here!”

 

From the crater emerged a pink bubble, leftover lava sticking to it as the strong force effortlessly shielded her from the hot touch. The biggest surprise, however, was seeing she wasn't alone. Holding onto her side, with an arm wrapped around Eve’s shoulders, was an Amazonian woman Mark hadn't seen since the party.

 

“War Woman?”

 

Eve and War Woman land as Mark approaches them, docking his feet on the hard surface as the bubble disappears around the two heroes.

 

“Looks like I showed up just in time.” War Woman smiles, throwing her mace over her shoulder. “Kept the place steady until I got here.”

 

Mark shyly rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. We kept it in check for sure. Where's Doc Seismic?”

 

The redhead looks over her shoulder, peeking at the crater they just came from. “Well, after War Woman showed up–”

 

“And beat him.” She jokes, her toned muscles flexing slightly as her other hand found itself on her hip.

 

“She managed to damage those… bracelets on his wrists. Then he fell down, we went after him, and uh…”

 

Mark leans to the side and sees the amount of lava that had risen up. “Ah…”

 

War Woman nods, the clinks of her boots scraping against the ground below as she walks past the hero duo. “Sometimes we can't save them all. Doc Seismic has been a real havoc the past decade and a half.”

 

She looks over her shoulder, smiling at the young heroes. “Great work, you two. Keep this up, and you'll be taking my job one day.”

 

Mark feels his face burn, a small, childish smile spreading on his lips. When he looks back at Eve, she's also smiling, tucking an orange strand behind her ear as her cheeks slightly turn red.

 

“Wow, I never got to work with War Woman before.” She says, her voice suddenly sounding like honey. Mark tilts his head, and he was about to point that out when his earpiece buzzed to life and the familiar ragged voice popped into his eardrums.

 

“Invincible, head back to the base. And bring War Woman with you.”

 

The black and green hero quickly turns around. “Hol– War Woman!”

 

Luckily, he managed to catch her attention just before she was about to fly off. The Amazonian turns her eyes towards Mark, her expression neutral.

 

“Director Cecil wants to see you.” He says it with confidence, but Mark was actually internally screaming. It sounds almost like a demand, and he didn't want to come off that way, especially towards Holly of all people. Mostly because she can easily laugh it off and fly away like he never said anything at all.

 

The taller woman smiles, a brow slightly raised. “Oh? Well, lucky for him, I don't have any plans at the moment.”

 

He nods, hovering in the air. The half-human looks towards Eve. “I'll see you later, alright?”

 

Then he takes off, War Woman not too far behind him.

 

____

 

“And the last thing that I was told, he fell into the crater of lava and just… never came out, I guess.”

 

Mark sits back against the chair he rested in, running his gloved colored hand through his black mane. It was another daily report on the current outskirts of the city and everything in it, something Mark had grown used to after the day was over. So far, Mark has reported only good news, whether it's stopping local robbers or defeating an overgrown bird that tried to eat a bunch of people. His reports have been nothing but successful, which he prided himself in a little more than he intended.

 

“Great work today, Mark.” Donald praises, writing down the last of his notes. “You're taking up a new record.”

 

Mark grins, scratching the side of his jaw with one finger. “Ha, I'm trying my best. Haven't lost a single fight yet.”

 

Donald stares at him.

 

“Yet, Donald.”

 

The older agent chuckles. “Of course. Never lost a battle once.”

 

The younger man smiles, standing up. “Great. Are we done? I need to find Cecil.”

 

“I believe he's still getting reports from War Woman.” Donald says, walking over to the lady in the corner and handing her the clipboard. “Is it urgent?”

 

“Not really.” The black-haired man thinks. “Wait, Holly is still here? Um… it totally is. Yeah, it's super urgent. They're in Cecil's office, right?”

 

The sunglasses-wearing agent nods. Mark gives a thumbs-up and, with a wave of goodbye, grabs his headgear and glides out of the report room. He travels down a few hallways, saying hi to a couple of passing faces before he reaches and lands in front of the familiar door. He gives a quick knock and waits.

 

“Come in.” Cecil's voice spiked.

 

Mark grabs the knob and slowly creaks the door open, poking his head inside. Cecil sat behind his desk per usual, and Holly was standing across from the director, arms crossed but expression soft. Her eyes lit up when she saw who it was.

 

“There's one the stars of the show.” She gleams as Mark steps in and closes the door behind him. “Come to say hi?”

 

“Uh, something like that.” He smiles, standing not too far from the taller woman. “Just to be sure, this isn't a bad time, is it?”

 

The director and the Guardian took a quick glance at each other, then the older-looking man decided to speak first. “We were just wrapping up today's report. You need something, kid?”

 

“Well,” Mark meekly looked away, “I was hoping… Holly, are you down for a quick training session?”

 

“Oh?” Holly lifts her head, turning her back to Cecil entirely. “A training session? It's been a while since we had those, right?”

 

Mark shrugs. “Well, only if you're not busy, of course. And I– I just thought it'd be a nice way to catch and show you what else I can do.”

 

Cecil peeks over War Woman, a brow raised as the younger man tries to come up with some excuse to fight the muscular woman. The ancient fighter clicks her tongue, her mace slightly swinging on her right shoulder. Then, a wide smile spreads on her lips, and she shrugs.

 

“I could use the exercise.” She says, walking over to the shorter man. “Plus, I haven't seen you in action yet.”

 

“Wha– I mean, I've been on the news.”

 

“I don't watch the news, Mark.”

 

“… Right.”

 

The heroes turn their attention to Cecil, who didn't seem as bothered as Mark thought. The director stands and walks over to the two of them, motioning for them to follow.

 

“We’ve got time, and if War Woman is okay with it, then let's go.”

 

Within minutes, they were in one of the bigger training areas specifically made for high combat heroes. War Woman stood on one side, holding a quick conversation with Donald (who had to urgently hurry there under Cecil's commands), and Mark stood on the other, talking with the GDA director.

 

“You remember last time, right?” Cecil asks, arms crossed as he nods to one of the data collectors.

 

“This isn't last time.” Mark says, an edge to his voice. “And that was nearly two years ago. I know her fighting tactics better now.”

 

“Still,” the white-haired man looks over at the hero across the room, “she's a highly experienced fighter, and she knows exactly what she's doing. Last time she went easy on you, and you still had to wear an arm cast for twenty-four hours.”

 

“I remember.” Mark groans. “Can we get started?”

 

Cecil stares at Mark, his cold eyes holding something else that only remains unspoken as he nods. “Good luck.”

 

Mark placed his headgear on and rolled his shoulders. He walked to the center of the room, War Woman doing the same, and they gave each other their respective nods.

 

“Let's see what little Mark has developed over the years.” She grins.

 

Mark frowns underneath the glass. “You’re still calling me that?”

 

“When I met you, you were so…” Her left hand flattens, and she shrinks it down, the hand stopping around her knees. “This. You were barely big enough to fit in a car seat.”

 

“Thanks, Holly.”

 

The conversation ended as soon as the buzzer above went off. Mark was the first to make a move; feet planted firmly on the ground, nearly shifting the swirled flooring as he hoisted forward, fists ready as he neared the older hero. War Woman was quick to react as always, tossing her mace in her good hand and swinging it as hard as she could at the new hero. Luckily for Mark, his senses picked it up instantly, and he ducked close to the ground, gloved palms pressed against the cold floor as the mace flew over his head.

 

Within seconds, Mark was in the air, looking down at the powerful woman. Then, he squeezed his right palm, and he was instantly out of sight. War Woman looked around below, eyes watching all corners of the room. Leisurely, Mark clung to the wall in silence, his headgear analyzing all of War Woman's movements. Then, he forcefully pushes him off and closes the distance between them. With one fell swoop, Mark raised his fist and clashed it against the side of her face, his knuckles feeling the strong cheekbones nearly vibrate against the material.

 

In a split-second state of shock, War Woman stumbled back once, but immediately caught herself back on her feet. She smirked, her thumb pressing against her lip and wiping away the small bit of spit that managed its way out of her mouth.

 

“Not bad.” She whispers, her free hand forming into a fist, easily cracking her knuckles. “Love the new tricks.”

 

Mark was behind her now, fist once again raised in the air. But her ears were now open to any source of noise; she whips around and ducks down, her hand not reaching the floor but extending ahead in front of her instead. The younger man doesn't know how she knew exactly where his leg was, but the feel of her strong fingers wrapping tightly around his ankle had already given away he shouldn't rely entirely on his newfound ability. His vision flashed as she swung him from the air and knocked him to the ground. His invisibility wore off, revealing the city hero.

 

“But you're still too bold.”

 

“You're one to talk.” He mumbles, instantaneously pushing himself up and charging at the Amazonian. She raises her club again and swings it down, and Mark catches it against his palm, blocking the impact that threatened the helmet he wore. Her expression shifts, a caught of surprise plastering her face, and Mark couldn't help but feel a little proud in his movements.

 

That feeling ended fairly quickly, however, as his free hand reaches up aimlessly at the buff woman, but she catches his wrist mid-punch and spins him, his back now against her chest as she holds him firmly in place, her hand squeezing his wrist, almost threatening to break it.

 

“You’re still hesitant to attack.” War Woman says, unfazed by the struggling half-human in her grips. “This is training; attack me like I'm a true foe.”

 

Mark reeled his head down and, without warning, threw it back hard against her nose, feeling the impact right against his own skull. However, she didn't move; in fact, she didn't even budge just a little. He hears her chuckle behind him before she throws her mace down and grabs the back of Mark's neck. Without mercy, the older hero forces the young man down on the ground with a harsh crack. Mark gasps, feeling the wind knocked out of him from the sudden impact. He makes no attempt to move as her grip tightens, faltering in defeat in her eyes.

 

“Hm, you definitely have experience now.” War Woman lets go and slowly stands up. “But you still hold on to some ignorance. Not saying it's bad, but–”

 

Too fast, too slow, both ends on an unexpected line. Mark’s body is a blur as he suddenly reels up, hand clenched into another fist, and without a second thought or hesitation, his hard knuckles uppercut her jaw, echoes of teeth hitting against teeth buzzing from the unexpected assault. Mark caught a glimpse of her eyes, wide and surprised. He doesn't really see that look on her. She was completely and utterly caught off guard.

 

This time, she stumbles back a couple of steps, holding her chin. Mark saw an opening and took it. He lunges forward, crying out as he hits her again. She's quick to swing her fist into his side, and he feels his body tense. Still, he lifts his knee without thinking and collides it against her abdomen. War Woman staggers over, and in a final attempt, Mark clasps his hands together and rings them down, hitting the back of her head with ease that even he never imagined.

 

He steps back as War Woman does the same. She stands tall, proud, and confident as her eyes land on the shorter hero. She cracks her neck, brow raised, before a noticeable red liquid begins to drip down from her nose. When she reaches and feels the familiar liquid, her eyes widen slightly.

 

Mark holds his breath.

 

She smiles.

 

“Looks like we found another match.”

 

The alarm buzzed through the room, echoing the end of the assignment. Mark immediately removes his headgear and brushes his dark hair back, barely noticing the sweat left behind in it.

 

“Oh, wow.” He blinks, watching as she walks over to her abandoned club and grabs its handle. “Um, sorry about–”

 

War Woman holds up her hand. “That was an excellent fight. You have improved, Mark. Great job.”

 

His face flushes, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as scientists come over to analyze the two heroes. “Uh, thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”

 

She smiles, wiping the small bit of blood that had escaped her nostril. Mark looks down at the helmet and sees it has gathered some cracks and dents from the fight. He frowns, but the ragged voice beside him quickly lifts his spirits.

 

“Don't worry, all information is kept in the database.” Cecil says, looking at Mark with a prideful smile. “We already have backups in store. Nice fighting there, kid.”

 

Pride, joy, and satisfaction ran through Mark like a landslide. His teeth stuck out of the pointy smile, his hands shaking from excitement. Cecil allowed him to drown away in his success as he made his way over to War Woman, but Donald stayed behind to watch Mark joy himself in his first win against the Guardian.

 

“See, Donald?” Mark says, leaning in, looking slightly smug. “Haven't lost a fight yet.”

Notes:

Guys can you tell I love War Woman I love War Woman can you tell guys can you tell

Anyway!! I liked this chapter a lot because not only for Doc Seismic (which ngl he's one of my favorite villains he's funny af), but for Mark's relationship with Eve and hints of it with the guardians! I promise we'll get more insight on his relationship with Cecil and Rex (me looking at the upcoming chapters like I don't know...), but I wanted to display his and Eve's relationship here too! Lowkey in my eyes, they're soulmates in every universe, no matter if it's romantic, platonic, or... Well, they're rivals/enemies 😅 Mark has a backstory with nearly everyone here, I can't be normal about relationships oops

I have so many plans and upcoming things heading into this story... Can't believe I originally started it off as 15 chapters lmfao. But nonetheless!! GDA Mark strikes again and I save every video with him in it no matter what

Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

Summary:

Why bother when it's already too late? She's gone. Her body was fragile. There's nothing left. Yet, all He does is remain.

Notes:

Blorp. I don't really have anything to say (at this part), only that I keep uploading these at midnight so I don't forget in the morning 😆 but also I was insanely excited to get this chapter up! Definitely one of my favorite little filler chapters thus far

“Dude, today fucking sucked balls.”

 

Mark lifts his head from the comic book he was reading, catching a glimpse of orange in the corner of his eye. He closes the loose paper book as the sound of his bed rattling bounces around the small bedroom. He turns in his desk chair and sees the iconic orange and yellow suit flopped down on his yellow covers, arms spread out on the mattress as his legs dangle off the edge.

 

“Hello to you, too.” Mark crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, smirking. “I take it you had a rough day?”

 

“You–” Rex lifts his arm and points in the direction of Mark, “–have no fucking idea.” His voice was muffled, but Mark could understand him clearly.

 

“Is that why you haven't been answering my texts?”

 

“I forgot my shit at the base.”

 

“Wow, you've been pretty forgetful lately.”

 

“I'll kill myself.”

 

“Stop.”

 

Mark shakes his head. “Are you going to talk about it or?” He asks, crossing one leg over the other. He already knew the answer, but he was giving Rex an open window to start ranting away anyway.

 

“Oh, don't get me started!” Rex's body turns in the bed and sits up, his face visible and very much bruised. “First, we have to go and fight that giant walking lava pile of shit and that weird pink tape douchebag from robbing another bank, which they seriously need to find a new hobby.”

 

“Uh huh.” Mark nods, looking over Rex's injured face. “Hey man, you need an ice pack?”

 

“Sure.” The hero shrugs. “Anyway, then we had to go and fight the damn Lizard League, which, by the way, should only be given to Fight Force because they're so bad at their jobs; at least it would have been a somewhat fair fight.”

 

Mark was already on the other side of his room, opening his well-kept mini freezer and grabbing a blue ice pack. “Wow, that's crazy.”

 

“AND THEN–” Rex was about to begin his next complaint of the hour when the cold of the ice pack touched the side of his face. “Ow, dude–”

 

“You just said ‘sure’ for an ice pack!” The half-human grunts, letting Rex take it from there. Rex stuck out his tongue but didn't respond anything to that.

 

“Then Killcannon just shot me out of nowhere!” Rex growls, his free hand now fidgeting with the zipper of his suit. “Literally! We were walking down the street, and he just SHOOTS me!”

 

Mark felt his gut twist, walking around the bed so he was standing in front of Rex. “You alright? I know his cannon shots can be pretty painful.”

 

He watches as the dark redhead places the ice pack down and fumbles with his suit. “Me? I’m fine; you should see him, but I haven't been able to check on myself because after that stupid battle, I came straight here.”

 

“Let me guess,” Mark’s eyes rolled as he reached over and took the zipper between his fingers, “several nurses were trying to get you to come to the infirmary, and you…?”

 

Rex sighs, grabbing his mask and taking it off, his messy sweaty hair sticking out on all ends. “I told them to fuck off.”

 

“Rex!”

 

“I'm fine! I just needed a bed to sit in.”

 

Mark grimaces at him, finally getting the zipper all the way down. “Fine, but when you get yelled at by Cecil, don't come crying to me.”

 

“Like I would ever–”

 

Rex freezes.

 

Mark freezes.

 

Both have just realized what Mark had done, mostly the latter, as he's never just voluntarily undressed Rex without making it a big deal. There were exceptions, like the time Rex got stuck in really weird goo when they were out exploring in the woods, and Mark had to yank him out, tearing his shirt in the process (which Rex wasn't happy about). Technically, that doesn't count, but Mark still thinks about it sometimes.

 

But this? Rex’s body didn't move as his suit slowly slid off his shoulders and thumped on the bed behind him, leaving him only wearing his pants. Because he didn't have a shirt underneath. Why does he never wear a shirt underneath?

 

“Uh,” Mark turns around and quickly walks towards his closet, “T– That's still a possibility. Hey, are you staying over?”

 

He hears a soft chuckle behind him. “Only if you want me to. Then again, I would rather not call Robot and ask him to send his dumb little flying machine after me so I wouldn't have to climb up those stupid stairs.”

 

“Why is your base at the Golden Gate Bridge, anyway?” Mark questions as he goes through his pajamas, trying to burn away the heat in his face.

 

“Beats me! I can't remember if it was something Robot decided or what.”

 

Mark comes out with dark navy blue pajamas, handing them to the other man. “Well, luckily you haven't fallen off while you’ve been drunk.”

 

Rex flips him off, suddenly standing. Mark finally noticed the dark purple bruise forming on Rex's left side and bit his lower lip. He'll have to throw Killcannon in the ocean the next time he sees him. That idea popped right out of his head when Rex grabbed the waistband of his pants and slid them down without warning. The black-haired hero turns away again, pretending to look at anything else but that. He and Rex are used to changing in front of each other, but for Mark, it was very different from how it used to be a couple of years ago.

 

Actually, no. It's always been different for Mark. He just didn't realize it until he was fifteen.

 

“Well, uh,” Mark's eyes scanned around his own bedroom as he walked towards the edge of his bed, “just glad you still made it out okay. You're cool and all, but hospitals suck.”

 

“You practically live in a hospital.” Rex argues, tossing his tattered clothes somewhere in the room. “Just take the elevator.”

 

“Nah.” Mark grins, hearing Rex shuffle behind him. “I kind of hate that place. Feels gloomy.”

 

“You're gloomy. Also I'm dressed.”

 

Mark turns around and sets his eyes on Rex, the comfortable clothing slightly loose on his toned skin. He watches as Rex reaches behind and tugs at the hair tie in his already messy hair, pulling it a little until it's completely removed from his roots, letting his scalp breathe as it falls around his neck and the edge of his shoulders. The other man sighs and sits down, head hung low. Mark takes a seat on the other side of the bed, worryingly looking at Rex's side.

 

“You sure you're okay?”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“That's a pretty bad bruise.”

 

“I've had worse.”

 

“It's bigger than your arm.”

 

“It just adds to the appeal.”

 

“Rex.”

 

“Mark.”

 

The half-human glares at the man across, who was peeking over his shoulder to smugly look at his friend. He shrugs and picks up the ice pack that was abandoned on the bed, then flops down on his back and places the cold piece on the side of his face. Mark rolls his eyes and takes the space next to Rex, tucking his hands under his head as his knee barely touches his friend's.

 

“Dude, you probably have a broken rib.” Mark frowns, glancing over at Rex. “Seriously, I'll go down to the infirmary with you if it hurts that bad.”

 

“It doesn't.” Rex did the same as Mark, his eyes narrowed. “I barely feel it. I just want to go to bed.”

 

Mark wanted to argue further; the dark redhead bruised easily compared to the newer hero, and he was just as stubborn as his own skin. Oftentimes, the two of them would get into small arguments about this type of stuff, with sometimes Mark threatening to drag him there by force, but it always ended with a pillow smack or two.

 

But Rex's tone told him it was best if he allowed the former to rest, even if he didn't like how Rex was putting himself off on his own injuries. With a sigh, he says nothing else as he pulls the covers over himself, feeling Rex do the same. Tomorrow he'll definitely drag him down to the infirmary, no matter if he's kicking and screaming or not.

 

Several minutes had passed since soft grunts and groans kept leaving Rex’s lips with no rest in between. Mark lifts his head and peeks over his shoulder, seeing Rex curled into the covers with his teeth grinding against each other and his eyes tightly shut. Unnerved, Mark turned his entire body around so he was facing the hero.

 

“Rex.”

 

“No.”

 

Shaking his head, he lifts himself up and scoots closer, tapping his shoulder. The dark ginger opens his eyes and looks up at him, frowning, then the green iris slightly widens as Mark opens up his arms.

 

“Like when we were kids, yeah?” Mark offers, shifting his body so it’s in a more comfortable position. “If no infirmary trip, then at least let your body rest on something other than a crappy bed.”

 

“Your bed is still better than mine.” Rex scoffs, looking at Mark's open arms. “Wasn’t this just an excuse to make sure I didn't die overnight or something? ‘Cause you can feel my heart or some shit?”

 

“You never questioned it.” Mark says, keeping his cool. “My offer is up in the air.”

 

He sees Rex thinking, his eyes slightly droopy but his pupils dilated as he looks the half-human up and down. He grunts again when he moves, one arm crossed over his torso, holding his side. His bruised lip twists and turns, eyeing Mark.

 

“Is there a catch?” He questions. Mark tilts his head, now his own confusion appearing on his smooth face.

 

“Like what? Your drool on my shirt?” Mark rolls his eyes. “Come on, man. I am trying to make sure you don't stop breathing at some point during the night.”

 

“It takes a glowing skeleton to kill me.” Rex humors, pushing himself up and closer to Mark. “Fine, fine, but you better not drool in my hair.”

 

“I'm not the drooler here.”

 

Mark settles back, letting his friend press closer to him, the upper part of his body touching Mark’s. The black-haired man was thankful Rex couldn't see in the dark, because he knew his face was as flushed as a strawberry cake. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling as Rex’s arms wrap around him, his leg flopping on top of Mark's without warning.

 

“This isn't going to help my rib, by the way.” Rex yawns, resting his face on Mark's shoulder. “If it is broken, it's your fault.”

 

“You're the one who doesn't want to get checked out.” Mark spits, still carefully wrapping his own arms around the other man. “I'm going to drag you down there tomorrow, by the way.”

 

“Alright.”

 

After a couple of minutes, Rex finally fell asleep against Mark, soft snores replacing the painful grunts from earlier. Technically, Rex wasn't wrong about Mark just wanting to keep his heart rate in check, as the half-human was very much aware of the other hero's normal heart rate and when there were potential problems with it. It was something he caught when they were kids, and the easiest way to keep it in check was… well, this. Since it was easy for Mark to feel it thumping against his own.

 

Even so, Mark could feel his own heartbeat moving rapidly against his lungs. He tried not to think much of it, since it was normal for them, unless it counts the fact they haven't lain like this since they were young teens. But it did reassure Mark that Rex was still comfortable being this close to him without a problem.

 

With a sigh, Mark closed his eyes and let his mind rest for the remainder of the night.

 

____

 

“We can totally sneak in there.”

 

“We shouldn't.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because we shouldn't.”

 

Mark looked up at the taller boy, frowning as his friend’s face was pressed up against the window, his nose flattened against the glass as his green eyes darted around the inside. The paler boy hit his arm, finally getting some acknowledgement of his existence from the darker redhead.

 

“What?” Rex asks, his brows knitted.

 

“It's not appropriate.” Mark hisses, leaning in. The young teen didn't seem to care, however, as his only response was rolling his eyes before going back to his little side gig. Mark follows his gaze, looking around at the old DVDs and posters decorating the small store. Some movies he recognizes from when he went over to William's house and his mom put on a movie for them. Others he wasn't quite sure about, probably a bit more on the older side. But the one thing that caught the teen's attention was the red cover in the far back of the store, with a sign that reads Adult 18+ Only! at the very top of it.

 

“The employees aren't stupid.” The shorter preteen scoffs, irritated. “They're going to see you trying to sneak in and kick us out.”

 

Rex grins, turning his gaze back on Mark. “That's why I have a wonderful distraction.”

 

He slowly turns his head towards his best friend. “No.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No, Rex. If you get caught, I get caught.”

 

Rex whines, moving away from the glass. “Even if we get banned here, who cares? We can always find another cheap movie store to go to.”

 

“It's not just that.” Mark argues, doing the same as Rex. “What if they're one of those stores that call our guardians when we're doing something illegal?”

 

“Pfft.” Rex's crooked smile spread across his well kept face. “Please, no one actually does that. And even if they did, Radcliffe wouldn't even pick up. In fact, they wouldn't even know! I technically don't exist anymore.”

 

“Rex.” The black-haired preteen glared. “This is serious! I don't want to get in trouble just because you want to be rebellious in an old DVD shop that's going to close down in three years anyway.”

 

The taller boy huffs and crosses his arms, looking away. Mark does a small scowl at him, then looks inside the shop’s window again. Rex looks at him, then at the shop, then back at Mark. He murmurs, dropping his arms, then walks past the other boy with an annoyed expression.

 

“Fine, but you're paying for lunch.”

 

Mark sighed in relief, turning heel and following after Rex. “Thank you. Maybe when we're older, we can try that dumb trick of yours.”

 

“Setting DVDs as explosives?” Rex peeks over his shoulder, grinning. Mark shakes his head.

 

“No– whatever, nevermind.” Mark catches up to him, looking around the plaza. “Okay, so, where do you want to go now?”

 

“I don't know; this place is massive.” Rex shrugs. “What's sticking out to you? And don't say that dumb toy shop on the other side. Actually, wait, it might have some cool stuff in there.”

 

The duo have been walking around the large plaza for half an hour, already taking up most of their free time together by going into dumb shops or arguing about which dumb shop to go into next. It wasn't often the boys were allowed to go anywhere unsupervised, but Cecil and Radcliffe every once in a while let the boys have their fun and run around in a specific area until the time given to them was up, and they were forced to go back to their special “homes” until they could meet up again.

 

Mark liked days like this, because it was usually when Rex smiled the most. He always has something to say about anything, typically a smart remark or a genuine, curious display of interest. The paler boy was more used to this kind of stuff, even after he'd been living in the GDA for nearly two years. The other boy, however, was less exposed to this side of the world, or more so less familiar with this type of stuff than his shorter friend.

 

“Let's go in here.” Mark grabs his friend's wrist and drags him into some old-timey bookstore. He hears an agitated grunt from the teen but chooses to ignore him, his eyes scanning the area around them as he takes in the store they were in. He lets go of Rex and walks to a random shelf, looking at the title names on the side of the hardcovers.

 

Some of them were fiction, made-up scenarios of haunted stories or random alien attacks that didn't sound all too convincing to read. Others were non-fiction, true stories on surviving shipwrecks or traveling through the Amazon rainforest, but still not enough to catch his attention. He wanders around to find any sort of comic book section, but nothing pops out to the curious boy.

 

Until he accidentally bumped shoulders with some really pale kid in a random book aisle.

 

“Watch it, prune!” The scrawny voice pushes Mark back, an angry look decorating his face. It falters slightly when his dark eyes look down at the shorter kid. “Oh, some kid. Carry along, then.”

 

Mark blinks. “Um, you're kind of in the way.”

 

The taller teen– definitely a year or two older than Rex– scowls at Mark, dramatically closing the book in one, boney hand. “Then go around.”

 

Mark pouts, his brows knitting as he looks between the small spaces of the book aisle. “Uh, sorry. Can I just–”

 

The paler teen mumbled something under his breath and opened the book once more, turning his back on Mark. The black-haired boy was about to go back the way he came and just ignore whatever interaction this was until he peeked at the cover of the book and sparked his burying curiosity.

 

“What are you reading?” He asks, looking at the figure on the front. “Is it about people?”

 

“What else?” The mysterious stranger is facing Mark again, the book more clear to look at. “Studying the human body and its flaws is the only way to find the right engineering to fix it.”

 

Mark blinks, cringing again. “Uh, I'm sure the human body is just fine.”

 

“Nonsense!” He exclaims, opening up to a random page and presenting it to Mark, pointing at a random set of words. “The human body is designed for many wonders, and yet we are so weak, we fall ill to the simplest of bacteria and die within days!”

 

“I'm… positive there's more–”

 

The creepy teen leans down slightly, his face inches from Mark's. “What do you think the human body could do if we let it all out? Obstacles of weakness finally resolved to break that barrier and finally revel in the rawest of strength!”

 

Okay. This was enough. Mark turns around and begins to walk the other way, wondering what the heck he just witnessed. He goes to another aisle and looks through the colorful section of books, finding a lot more than he genuinely expected. He looks at the section, Sci-Fi, and chuckles. He grabs a blue book and opens it; nothing interesting. He grabs another, and it's the same.

 

Growing bored, he grabs one last book that could hopefully convince him this section didn't entirely suck. He flips it around to look at the cover, and–

The Man with the Invincible Gun

 

By ■■■■■ Grayson

Mark freezes. His eyes scan over the name again to be certain he read it correctly. Then again. And again.

 

How? How is this here? His books weren't always the best sellers unless they were specifically novels or something else entirely. This wasn't supposed to be here, right?

 

He read the name again, and it only filled him with anger and grief like before. He thought he'd gotten better at seeing anything related to Him, and yet–

 

Mark gritted his teeth, gripping the object in his hand as hard as he could. Instantly, he chucked that damn book like he was playing baseball; the flash of the object raced across the store and crashed right through the window and landed on the hard pavement outside with a loud thunk. The piercing sound of glass shattering fell throughout the once quiet store, a crowd of gasps filling up the small space right after. The pale preteen takes several deep breaths, his brown eyes looking around the store and spotting many people ducked behind bookshelves or shielding themselves on the ground.

 

The older teen from earlier was lying on the ground with his elbows propping him up, his dark eyes staring at the boy in shock. Mark takes a step back, processing what he had just done. Something had happened; he caused havoc, he didn't mean to do it– it was completely impulsive and entirely reckless of him.

 

“You…” the teen mumbled. “You…”

 

Mark felt a strong hand grab his own and pull him away from the scene, hauling him towards the exit of the store as Mark's mind fogged. He was out of the store, running across the plaza, and forced to sit down on some dirty alleyway floor all in a span of a minute, or at least what felt like a minute. The younger boy looks up at Rex, who was breathing hard from all the running as he frantically looked over his shoulder to check if they were being followed.

 

“Dude, what was that?!” Rex coughed, wiping spit from his mouth. “What the hell did that creep say to you?!”

 

But Mark couldn't speak; it was as if something tied around his neck and pulled, forcing him to stay silent and let his words be buried in the deep. He stared up at Rex, tears pricking his eyes, and that's when the other teen crouched down and held up his hands.

 

“Okay, okay, okay, uh…” Rex looks around, his own worry catching up to him. “Hey, dude, just look at me, okay? It's fine, everything is fine! We didn't get caught or anything–”

 

“It’s not fine! They still have His books in stock!” Mark chokes, his voice trembling. “I didn't think they would still be around. I thought since He's declared dead, they would just–”

 

He didn't know what he hoped for.

 

Mark's hands found his hair and grabbed harshly, his eyes growing wet with tears, threatening to fall down his red face. “Of all times, why now? Why did we go in that stupid store? It was just a bunch of books and– and–”

 

“Mark–”

 

“That was stupid. It was a dumb idea. This was a mistake. I should have–”

 

“Mark!”

 

Why bother when it's already too late? She's gone. Her body was fragile. There's nothing left. Yet, all He does is remain.

 

“Can I hug you?”

 

Mark pauses, slowly looking up at the taller teen, who worryingly stared down at Mark.

 

“What?”

 

“Uh, it's fine if you don't want to,” Rex nervously looked around, “but y– you look like you need one, and I just thought–”

 

Mark nods. Does he need a hug? He's not sure. But he doesn't know what he really needs right now to calm down, and they're in the middle of a plaza with strangers walking around them. He needs to be on high alert, no matter the reason.

 

Mark takes a deep breath when arms wrap around his neck and pull his face close to the ugly green fabric he's been forced to look at all day. His breathing catches in his throat, eyes wide as suddenly the world grows warm again. Hesitantly, his own arms reach up, and his hands grab the other teen's shoulders, his nose buried in his hoodie. Mark wanted to cry but couldn't. He didn't want the wet tears to escape this time. He didn't want to think about this. In a way, it was embarrassing; he was ashamed, yet his friend's hold on him never faltered.

 

They stay like that for a while until Mark is able to breathe properly again. Rex gradually pulls away, keeping his steady hands on Mark's arms as he studies his face. Mark swallows, blinking away the tears.

 

“Sorry.” He chalks, clearing his throat. “I thought… um, I'm not sure. I guess I had an unrealistic expectation, or something.”

 

“Bro, bro.” Rex waves his hand, keeping his toothy grin. “You're fine. Was it something with the book?”

 

“It was… my dad's.” Mark shrinks at the mention. “I thought since He's declared dead, His stuff would… I don't know, disappear, I guess?”

 

Rex moves and sits beside the shorter boy, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Mark sinks into it, pulling his legs against his chest and resting his chin on top of his knees.

 

“I should have expected they would still be around.” Mark shrugs. “But I hate seeing anything that's His, you know? It's… it's weird. I don't know why I thought it’ll all just be gone just because I hoped for it.”

 

Rex nods, nudging Mark closer. “I'm sorry, man. Wanna go back in there and burn every copy of that book?”

 

That did get a laugh out of Mark. “Nah, I’d rather just continue– oh crap, how much time do we have left?”

 

Mark checks the watch Cecil had given him and groans when he sees they only have twenty minutes left. “I took up most of our time. I'm sor–”

 

Rex pinches the side of his face, earning a small whine from Mark. “Ow! Rex!” Mark frowns, holding his cheek.

 

“Stop apologizing for bullshit.” Rex matches the frown. “You were upset, it's fine. Not like this will be the last time we hang out, anyway. Plus, I'd rather…”

 

He looks away from Mark, his dark red hair taking up all the corners of Mark's vision. “I’d rather check you're okay first than focus on some hour-long hangout.”

 

Mark sniffles a little, wiping his nose, unaware of his pink-tinted face. “Are you sure? I know you hate going back to Radcliffe.”

 

“Meh, I'll live.”

 

The taller boy stands and holds out his hand, smiling down at his best friend. “Come on. We can try out those chili dogs we saw earlier. You're still paying, though.”

 

Mark flashes a smile and grabs the teen's hand, feeling a jolt of electricity run through him. “Is that your way of saying cheer up?”

 

“Is it working?”

 

“Yeah, whatever works with you.”

 

____

 

Mark moans when he hears his bedroom door creak open and two sets of footsteps make their way into his room. A small noise comes from his lips as his eyes force their way open, meeting the grey ceiling above at first sight. Then, his head moves to the left side of his bed and meets the scarred, judgmental face of Cecil and a curious yet muddled Donald standing behind him. The younger of the three raises a brow, readying to sit up and ask them what's up when a heavy weight stops him. The gears in his brain begin to move as he finally looks down and sees the wool of dark red hair covering the entirety of his chest.

 

He wakes up instantly with that; his face drops as his eyes slowly scan back to the older duo, who still stared at Mark with bored, unamused looks.

 

“He was hurt.” Mark whispers, immediately covering his defense. “And you know how he is.”

 

Cecil stares.

 

“It was late, and he had already pissed off half of the medical staff.”

 

Cecil keeps staring.

 

Mark doesn't even keep trying; gently, he moves his sleeping friend off and places him on the mattress. Rex caught one of Mark's pillows and stuffed his face into it, still snoring. The younger man stands up from his bed and adjusts himself, nervously smiling.

 

Cecil smacks his lips together. “We have a report for you.”

 

“Oh, cool!” Mark chuckles, fixing his hair. “I'm always down for a report! What is it?”

 

Mark notices Donald looking between him and Rex, his expression slowly shifting to concern. The younger agent clears his throat and places his hands on his hips, waiting. Cecil sighs, deciding whatever this was will be brought up another time.

 

“Follow me… after you get the suit on.”

 

Cecil walks out without another word, Donald following closely behind. Once the latter closes the door behind him, Mark lifts his feet off the floor and glides over to his desk, where his suit and (new) headgear await. He spends the next few minutes getting his materials in check while occasionally glancing over at the sleeping Rex in his bed, face still deeply stuffed in the blue pillows. Just as he was about to put on his helmet and get it all set up, he heard shifting behind him and a loud, recognizable yawn echoing around the room.

 

“Hey hey, already leaving me high and dry?” Rex rubs his eye as he sits up. “No breakfast in bed, or anything?”

 

“Good morning, Rex.” Mark smiles, polishing the glass of his headgear with his wrist. “Cecil said he has a report for me, so I'm just getting ready to go out and handle it.”

 

Rex cocks his head to the side as Mark makes his way over to the door. “And I'm supposed to…?”

 

Mark's hand grabs the handle as his head peeks over at the redhead. “Go get that bruise checked out.”

 

Immediate frown. “Aw come on–”

 

“You'll thank me later.”

 

Mark doesn't stay around for arguments; he opens the door and steps out without another word. On the other side, the two men that taught him everything stood closely together, holding a quiet conversation before they noticed the young man making his way over.

 

“Follow me.” Cecil turns and starts walking, his steps echoing in the large hallway. Mark follows after him, adjusting the gadgets on his shoulders. “We got reports of suspicious activity near the city bank.”

 

Ah. Another easy mission. Great.

 

“How so…?”

 

Donald appears beside Mark and hands him an iPad, showing surveillance from the city area. He sees two familiar individuals talking quietly in a shady alleyway, one of them moving side to side with some pink-looking tape sticking out from his stomach area.

 

“Tether Tyrant and Magmaniac, huh?” Mark scoffs as he presses on the screen, zooming in on the two criminals. “They usually work for Machine Head, right? Wow, I didn't realize how many guys he has under his thumb.”

 

“Indeed.” Cecil says, adjusting his tie. “They seem to be only plotting for now, but I convinced Darkwing to let you take this one and keep an eye on them yourself in case they do the usual.”

 

Mark shrugs, handing the device back to Donald. “Sounds good. I'll go over immed–”

 

“Wait up!”

 

Rex turned the corner and caught the trio just in time, still holding his face as he walked up to them, huffing. Mark sees him in his hero suit and immediately falls into the same stance as Cecil when he's ordering a command.

 

“No.” Mark steps past Donald, pointing a finger against Rex's chest. “You're staying here. I can go alone.”

 

“Let me come with you!” Rex smiles, holding his hands out in front of Mark. “We haven't gone on an actual mission together yet! Two versus two!”

 

“Rex, your injuries.”

 

“I've dealt with worse.”

 

The two friends bumped heads and glared, their own spat about to break out if it weren't for the oldest man in the room stepping in, pushing them away from each other.

 

“Alright, enough you two.” Cecil demands, particularly looking at Rex. “We don't have time for arguments; if we give you some of those painkillers, will you shut up and assist Mark?”

 

Mark was… not expecting that. He looks at Cecil with surprise while Rex only grins, mostly at Mark, indicating that he won this battle flawlessly. With a sigh, Mark crosses his arms and turns away, taking a few steps forward.

 

“You're definitely going to have a broken rib after we're done.”

 

He only hears a satisfied chuckle behind him. There is never a boring day as long as Rex Splode is around.

Notes:

When you're trying to have a rough guy personality but your homie looking a little too kawaii today (I heard this somewhere and it's been looping in my brain please don't kill me)

Also!! I want to point out Rex is a year older than Mark, in case there was some confusion! So, if I write that Mark is 14, then Rex is 15. If I say Rex is 17, Mark is 16 :) nothing too major, but in my head Rex definitely used to tease a lot that he was older than Mark and could do whatever he wanted (then Mark grew an inch taller than him and he stopped)

Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

Summary:

“I know that, I'm not stupid.” Mark pouts, knowing a part of him did want to talk about the superhero aspect of his life. “Is there alcohol?”

 

“Why do you think I'm here?” Rex peeks over his shoulder, grinning. Mark scoffs but says nothing.

Notes:

Another midnight, another chapter upload... Pass the whiskey Allen 😔🍷

In all seriousness, we hit another chapter!! Kinda proud of myself for already coming this far, as I hadn't written in a while before this story, but it's been fun! I used this chapter to actually describe clothing and characteristics... I'm never doing that shit again /hj. Anyway! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter because imo, it's a little juicy 😆

“So, like, what's your type in guys?”

 

Mark pauses and slowly turns his head. “Excuse me?”

 

“Focus on the mission.” Cecil's voice buzzed through the earpiece. Mark snapped out of the temporary trance and whipped his head back in front of him just in time to dodge the boiling lava that came flying his way. A few feet in the air, he glances down at Magmaniac, pressing the side of his helmet and observing the scans that run over the criminal's entire body.

 

“You know,” Rex is looking at Mark, barely paying attention to the tape villain that was currently dodging all of Rex's explosives, “what you like in guys! Like how I like girls with green eyes. Preferences and all that.”

 

Mark presses his palms and disappears. Magmaniac frantically looks around, glowing eyes wide as he tries to spot the hero. He didn't have enough time to register the swishing noise behind him before a hard blow hit the back of his skull and he crashed down, the pavement below cracking slightly as his body morphed back to normal. The other criminal yells out for him, then growls at Rex and sends the strings of pink after him.

 

“This is ridiculous, I don't have preferences.” Mark appeared in the sky again, his shadow overcasting the fighting duo. He crosses his arms as Rex dodges all attempted attacks from the villain and grabs several capsules from his belt, hurling them after the older criminal.

 

He shrugs, whistling as four big booms went off in the other man's face. Tether Tyrant steps back and yells, covering his now burned face. The orange and yellow hero looks back at Mark, giving a one-shoulder shrug.

 

“Just wanted to know.” Rex cheekily glistens, ignoring the fast approach of Tether Tyrant behind him. “So, not picky?”

 

“Nope.” Mark says, popping the P. Rex finally whips around and lights his wrist ablaze, knocking his glowing hand into the criminal's face, a dust of explosions going off. The hero catches himself on his feet while Tyrant falls to his side, seemingly knocked out like his partner in crime behind them.

 

Mark floats down and lands next to Rex, patting his shoulder. “Good work. Director, mission complete.”

 

Rex quietly giggles. “Calling him director now, huh?”

 

Mark turns his attention back to his friend.

 

“Why are you even asking me about my type, anyway?” Mark asks, his voice quaking slightly. “Did you even question my preferences for girls before I told you I'm not into them?”

 

“Well, no, but I did try and make a few guesses.” Rex smirks, a small glint in his eyes. “But you were too busy jerking it to Seance Dog for me to actually think of any.”

 

“Dude!”

 

“Be honest, was Seance Dog your first crush?”

 

Mark's eye twitches from under the helmet. “No, he wasn't. And it's a superhero comic, not… that.”

 

“Hey, some people are freaks, alright?”

 

Mark decides he's had enough and turns away from the other man for his own sake. Just as the agent tunes into his mini intercom to report extended information on the new recruitments for the federal prison, he feels his phone vibrate from his lower back, signaling something else has come his way. He reaches around and digs out the cellular device, checking it and seeing a text message from Eve.

 

“Wait, you actually carry your phone around?” Rex blinks, peeking over Mark's back and looking at the pocket piece patched around his hip area. “Oh shit, I never noticed that.”

 

“Mhm.” Mark nods, typing away. “Eve just invited me to her graduation party.”

 

Rex’s eyes slightly widened, now watching over Mark's shoulder.

 

Eve⚛️: Hey you wanna come over next Saturday for my graduation party? Decided to throw it with friends as a quick celebration thing before we get super busy. You down?

 

Mark: Yeah of course. Is it at the new location?

 

Eve⚛️: Yep!

 

“Oh, sick, a party!” Rex grinned. “Ask her if I'm invited; I don't have my phone.”

 

Mark: Is Rex invited? He forgot his phone at the base.

 

Eve⚛️: No

 

“What the fuck?!” Rex gasped, brows furrowing viciously, then another text from Eve comes through and drowns away the semi-angry look on the man's face.

 

Eve⚛️: Jk lol. Yeah he's invited

 

Mark chuckles as Rex continues to frown, bumping away from Mark as GDA officers finally show up to apprehend the two villains. He follows the colorful hero out of the way, still looking at his phone.

 

“Just so you're aware, I don't know where her treehouse is.” Mark points out, stuffing his device back where it was, slightly floating above Rex. “Someone needs to be my guide.”

 

“Just fly and find it.” Rex shrugs, hiding away his smirk. “Kidding. I'll be your personal Uber.”

 

Mark rolls his eyes. “You can still give me directions in the air, dude. It's a treehouse, not a bush house.”

 

Rex copies Mark, rolling his eyes too. “Whatever.”

 

“You're planning to do what next Saturday?” The old man's voice came through again. Mark perks up, turning his attention to the piece in his ear.

 

“Uh, Eve’s holding a graduation party next Saturday.” He says, a little slowly. “And I was hoping I could go.”

 

“Yeah, sure. You deserve the break.”

 

Oh. Oh wow.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, kid. You've done well; now focus on the rest of the day and get back here before seven pm.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The earpiece clicked off. Mark looks down at Rex, who was looking back at him with a bored expression.

 

“You're an adult now, dude.” Rex mumbles. “You don't need his constant permission.”

 

“Well, I'm a hero that's actually trying to be responsible.”

 

“Shut up. Wanna get burgers and fries?”

 

Mark nods, grabbing the hero by his armpits and lifting him in the air, abandoning the scene entirely as they disappeared into the clear blue sky.

 

____

 

It was a lot nicer than Mark expected.

 

Not that Mark thought it would be ugly or Eve wouldn't know how to design something, but it was genuinely a pretty nice treehouse that someone wouldn't really see out in the market or in the middle of a busy forest. The black-haired man whistles, adjusting his hold on Rex as they neared the secret area.

 

“Pretty nice, huh?” Rex grins, hooking his arm over his friend's shoulders. “Came here a couple of times. It’s practically paradise.”

 

“Seems so.” Mark chuckles. He was holding Rex bridal style so it would be more comfortable for them both for the somewhat long trip. Mark almost objected to the idea because he thought he would easily give himself away while he carried the dark redhead, but Rex didn't want to be held like an idiot the entire time. Plus, they brought gifts, and someone definitely needed to hold them and keep them secure. On the brighter side, Rex was too busy looking at what's in front of them to actually focus on his paler friend.

 

Mark slowly descends down and lands on the grassy green below. Gently, he places Rex on his feet and stands straight, brushing himself off with a nice crack of his neck. The other man adjusts his footing, a soft sigh leaving his lips, then happily presents Mark's gift up to his face. Mark does take it, giving Rex a look, but the other doesn't reciprocate as he makes his way towards the wooden stairs that climb up the tall tree.

 

Mark wasn't exactly the most presentable for a party like this; he wore his dark blue sweater that had two light blue lines crossed around his chest and shoulders as well as rounding itself to the back of the sweater. Under it was a G-style yellow shirt Donald got for him last Christmas, as well as typical khakis and paige-colored shoes completing the outfit he wore. It was the best he had, as showing up in a suit to a typical party for young adults didn't feel fitting.

 

Rex wasn't as different, but at least he attempted to put more thought into his clothing for the night. He was wearing his old blue-grey plaid shirt he's had since they were teenagers, a white t-shirt visible underneath when he adjusted the top and bottom parts of the clothing. He wore black jeans that were slightly ripped, as well as black shoes with dark orange shoelaces. Why Mark kept note of that– only the belly of his subconsciousness knew the answer to that. Overall, Rex looked good; the outfit brought out his arms and back muscles perfectly well, and Mark caught himself staring a couple of times.

 

“So, Eve’s normal friends are here?” Mark asks as they ascend up the planks. “And they know she's a hero?”

 

The dark redhead nods. “Yeah. I dunno them, but that's basically the gist of it. I don't recommend telling them you're Agent Invincible, though.”

 

“I know that, I'm not stupid.” Mark pouts, knowing a part of him did want to talk about the superhero aspect of his life. “Is there alcohol?”

 

“Why do you think I'm here?” Rex peeks over his shoulder, grinning. Mark scoffs but says nothing.

 

When they finally reach the top, they're greeted with the sight of the sun in the distance and Eve standing in the middle of the room. The ginger ahead was wearing a long-sleeved striped linen shirt with pink stripes. Her blue shorts were decorated with silver dots around the edges, with her belt being as decorated as the blue fabric. Her hair was held up in a loose ponytail, something you don't really see on her these days. Her emerald green eyes spot the duo, and her face lights up.

 

“I was wondering when you two were going to show up.” Eve bounces her way over, immediately wrapping her arms around Mark when he approaches her.

 

“Wouldn't miss it for the world, babe.” Rex teases, looking around as his gift dangles in his hands. “Uhh, where do we put these?”

 

“Hold on, I'll show you.” Eve pulls away and motions for Rex to follow. Unexpectedly, Rex grabbed Mark's gift and followed after his friend, immediately picking up conversation with the atom-shifting hero. Confused and even a little bewildered, Mark groaned and was going to follow when a voice from behind caught his attention first.

 

“Mark? Oh shit, hey man.”

 

The black-haired hero turns and meets eyes with none other than Rae herself. She was dressed pretty nicely compared to Mark; she wore a light blue turtleneck sweater that rested on her body nicely. Over it was a dark blue jacket, hanging off their arms as the sides of it abandoned their shoulders and loosely hung on the sides a little. Her pants were white with a black belt hugging her hips decently, and they wore white heels that completed the rest of the outfit. Her curly brunette hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, a pink bow holding the brown mane up instead of a hair tie.

 

“Rae!” Mark's eyes lit up, opening his arms and allowing the shorter woman to embrace him. “Hey, I haven't seen you since that incident with Bi Plane. How are you?”

 

“Eh, I guess neutral, I suppose.” Rae jokes, patting Mark's back. “How about you? Fought any Kaijus yet?”

 

“I'm good, and unfortunately no.” He replies, pulling away and smiling at the other hero. “Been busy with other stuff, I guess.”

 

“‘I guess?’” Rae jokingly says, tilting her head. “Hero work is always busy, no matter what. Come on, let me introduce you to Eve's friend.”

 

“Wait, they're already here?” Mark stumbled in his steps as Rae pulled him along.

 

“Uhh, as far as I'm aware, there are two more on the way.” Rae shrugs. She drags Mark along the side of the treehouse, where Eve and Rex stood in front of a table with the gifts already on it; while on the couch, a woman sat there on her phone, tuning out the other two in the room.

 

Mark blinks once, twice, even going as far as to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things before it clicked in his head who the woman he was staring at was. He turns around and nearly chokes on his own spit, hand smacking his chest. Rae, confused by the sudden burst, leans over and pats their friend’s back, raising a brow.

 

“You okay there?” They asked, looking behind them as Mark tried to regather his thoughts. “Did a fly get in your throat?”

 

“Uh, no, it's uh…” Mark looks back at the stranger, who was now being introduced to Rex by Eve. “Um, my first ever mission with the Flaxans–”

 

“You fought the Flaxans?”

 

“Yeah. That woman over there, she was trapped under the rubble, and I saved her. I haven't seen her since, and I thought… I don't know! I'm glad she's okay, but wow. Small world.”

 

“Does she know you're Agent Invincible?” Rae’s voice drops lower, her eyes darting between Mark and the stranger. Mark shakes his head.

 

“If she doesn't know you're Shrinking Rae, then she doesn't know I'm Agent Invincible.” Mark comments, standing straight and clearing his throat. “It's fine. It's fine. Just didn't… woah.”

 

Rae nods and takes his hand, going back to leading him towards the well-dressed lady. She was nice-looking, Mark thought. A nice loose purple and orange slouchy shoulder shirt, her black top slightly exposed above as the straps held nicely against her skin. Her twist-out curls sprawled out over her face, neck, and partly her shoulders, part of the curly brown hair tied back while the rest held as bangs in front of her forehead. Besides the noticeable blue jeans and a red sandal on one foot, her right leg propped itself on Eve’s table, a large cast covering it from the bottom of her foot to slightly over her knee. Mark remembers how badly it was damaged that time, but at least they didn't have to amputate it.

 

Rae happily brought Mark over and presented him to the woman on the couch, who took her attention off the other two individuals and met eyes with the taller man she hadn't met yet.

 

“Oh, and who's this kind face?” She cracks a smile, leaning her cheek on her hand. Mark awkwardly smiles and waves, acting like he would give himself away if he slipped up just once.

 

“Amber, this is Mark.” Eve comes over to Mark's side, rubbing his shoulder. “Mark, this is Amber, my best friend since middle school.”

 

“Hi.” Mark cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, uh, Amber.”

 

Amber smiles, putting her phone down. “Nice to meet you too, uh, Mark.”

 

“She has humor, I like it.” Rex smirks, already holding a beer in his hand.

 

Mark gradually takes a seat on the other couch, slightly away from Amber. He doesn't know why he feels so nervous around her; she doesn't know who he is, and he technically doesn't know who she is either. It's weird, but Mark is trying his best to keep his cool about it. Rae takes a seat to his right, bumping his shoulder, while Eve and Rex take a seat across from them. Three couches; Eve probably made it that way for everyone that was able to come.

 

“So,” Amber smacked her lips together, eyes scanning around the three new people she had met, “Eve’s told me a lot about you guys, but I don't actually know you, or really recognize any of you. Are any of you guys going to school?”

 

Mark feels his heart stop. “Well–”

 

“Nah.” Rex butts in quickly, taking a quick swig of his drink. “Doing my own thing. I never went to highschool or any school, really, so I'm doing my job by being super awesome.”

 

Eve elbows him, unamused. “She was talking to the other two, Rex. You know, people who can start a conversation without being a weirdo.”

 

“I'm perfectly normal!” Rex defends himself, pointing a finger at Eve. “And it's true, anyway!”

 

Amber chuckles, resting her elbow on the back of the couch. “Amusing. So, you two?”

 

“Started working.” Rae cuts in, pressing her back against the soft surface. “Don't really plan on going to college right now.”

 

Mark holds his tongue, feeling Amber's eyes on him. “Um… I am working with… someone I'm close with at a government agency.”

 

Eve tilts her head, Rex shakes his, and Rae just slightly scoots away.

 

“Government agency?” Amber perks up at that. “Really? That's pretty impressive.”

 

“It was, uh, assigned by a family friend.” His smile falters; Mark was never good at lying, and Cecil made sure of it. He heard Rae trying to hide her laughter. “It's a bit of a long story.”

 

“I do love stories.” She smirks, eyes slightly tired. “But you don't have to tell it. I'll believe you for now.”

 

Okay. Mark actually does kind of like her. “Huh, you're pretty cool, Amber.”

 

She smirks. “That's good to hear. You're pretty cool too.”

 

“Look at us!” Rex raised his drink in the air, his face already flushing. “Getting along, becoming friends, Mark actually socializing.”

 

“Hey–”

 

Eve whistles, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand. “He's right. This was a perfect little hangout spot to actually meet each other. I was nervous, but so far everything is going well.”

 

“Despite Rex.” Rae chuckles.

 

“Despite Rex.” Eve repeats. Rex doesn't take offense, only a sip of his beer. Mark opened his mouth to continue when a deep voice came from behind them.

 

“We're here!”

 

“Just in time.” Amber turns her attention away from Mark, looking past him at the new guests that had arrived. Eve stands and saunters over to the new faces. Rex, unbothered, continues to drink while Rae turns in her seat. Mark doesn't look, not at first, as for some reason it kind of felt awkward. He hasn't actually met anyone outside of “the hero circle” since Rex’s first girlfriend a couple of years back, and now he's meeting Eve's new friends, with one of them being a girl he saved from an alien invasion.

 

Slowly, he lifts his head and turns in his seat, finding the two new guests that had made their way into the treehouse. One of them was tall and built, with blonde hair combed nicely on the side, wearing decent clothing for the occasion. Eve greets him with a small hug, then moves to the shorter man behind him. The black-haired man shifts a little to get a better look, Eve’s long hair in the way of the other man she was embracing until they pulled away and–

 

Mark’s heart stops. He slowly stands, eyes widening. The man that had just pulled away from Eve held a toothy smile that Mark hadn't seen since he was ten years old. His eyes were still the same blue, and his hair had lightened over the years. But there was no doubt Mark knew who this was.

 

Mark takes a step away from the furniture. “William?”

 

All three heads turn to Mark. William, his childhood best friend, stares at him for a moment that only held confusion, looking him up and down before the realization of whose ghost he was staring back at washed over him and a small gasp escaped from his smooth lips.

 

“Wait,” the shorter man holds up one finger and points it at Mark, “wait wait wait wait… Mark?”

 

Mark nods.

 

“Mark as in Mark Grayson?!”

 

Mark nods again. William gasps, his eyes exploding in colors.

 

“No fucking way!” William pushes past Eve and rushes over to Mark, his tooth gap visible for him to see through the man's beaming smile. The taller of the two men slowly opens his arms and feels his old friend’s body collide with his, wrapping his skinny arms around Mark's upper torso in a tight hug. Leisurely, Mark did the same, wrapping his own covered arms around William, buried feelings suddenly resurfacing.

 

William, his first friend he had growing up, was a boy of many wonders. They met in kindergarten when Mark was sitting alone away from the other kids, and William joined him because he looked like he could “use a friend.” They were inseparable, always seen together and always doing something with the other. They went over to each other's houses a lot, to the point William stopped referring to Mark's mom as “Mrs. Grayson” and started calling her “Debbie” only after a year since they met. They were simpler times; Mark was happy to be around William, but tragedy struck, and Mark couldn't see him anymore.

 

Until now. Until today.

 

“Holy shit, you got tall.” William stepped away, looking up at his old friend. “And you grew into your face. I remember when your cheeks were super puffy.”

 

Mark chuckles, tilting his head as William reaches up and pats Mark on the side of his face. “And I remember when you were taller. Guess things have changed.”

 

“Wait, you two know each other?” The blonde man walked over to the duo, looking between him and Mark. William nods, standing to the side and introducing Mark like they were never separated in the first place.

 

“Rick, Mark. Mark, Rick.” William’s eyes were glittering. “This is my old friend I told you about!”

 

Rick processed the information, looking at Mark with hesitancy before his own smile crept on his strong face, and he held out his hand. “It's nice to meet you, Mark.”

 

Mark takes it and gives it a nice shake. “It's nice to meet you too, Rick.”

 

“What are you doing back down here?” William questions as soon as the men break apart. “I was told you moved upstate to live with some relatives.”

 

“I, uh…” Mark trails, thinking of a lie to match with his earlier ones. “I came back down with a family friend for a job opportunity.”

 

William gasps, both hands touching the sides of his face. “No way! Oh you have to tell me all about it–”

 

“Okay,” Amber calls, waving her hand in the air, “it's great to see you two reunited, but this is for Eve, remember?”

 

“Oh, it's fine.” Eve giggles, walking back over to the couches. “It's nice to see two friends coming together, actually.”

 

“Oh, we definitely have a lot to talk about.” William grins, turning his attention to the mini audience within the treehouse. “And I see two new faces here, too! Eve, I didn't know you were so popular.”

 

Mark gently laughs, turning around and… being surprised by what he sees.

 

Rex wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Mark, Rae, or Eve. His narrowed eyes were turned away entirely, keeping his eyes on the kitchen area and not acknowledging anyone else that followed in the room. The only time he did bring his attention back to reality was when Eve introduced William to him, which he did greet, but he was holding a very forced half smile as he loosely shook William's hand. At least the paler man didn't notice, but Mark caught on pretty quickly.

 

Still, he took a seat and watched as William and Rick sat on the couch with Amber. The two of them embraced, William asking Amber about her leg, her asking about his outfit, the typical casual conversation between friends. Rick and Rae appeared to click instantly; Rae asking Rick about his major in college and Rick answering like it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

 

Even with the happy atmosphere surrounding them, Mark couldn't shake Rex’s quiet demeanor off of him. Rex was never quiet; he was always the loudest mouth in the room. Eve kept hitting his arm to say something, for once in his life, and he'd say a thing or two but only leave it at that.

 

“Mark!” William's voice caught his attention. “Let's catch up over pool.”

 

“Wha–” Mark blinks, watching as one of the tables in the back glows a bright pink and turns into a pool table with the long sticks already ready. He grins and stands, following his old friend over to the activity. He takes a quick glance at Rex, who still has the same scowl as earlier. A part of him wanted to ask him what was wrong and comfort him, but William's colder hand took hold of his wrist and dragged him over to the mini game.

 

“Sooooo,” William grabs hold of one of the sticks, “tell me everything.”

 

“Everything as in?” Mark snickers, picking up the other one.

 

“You know, from when you moved away to being here now! Also, I call going first.” William grabs the rack and starts collecting the colorful balls on the pool table.

 

Mark clicks his teeth together. “It's complicated and a little rough.”

 

He wasn't lying, not this time. Everything just kind of went downhill after the incident. He's grateful for Cecil and what the GDA has done for him, but it's hard to explain that to someone who wouldn't understand it, nor should they know about it in the first place.

 

So, Mark made up an entire life story that he has zero idea if he'll remember later on; he moved into an older relative’s house in New York and grew up there. He did school and sports (technically not a lie) until eventually he moved back to his childhood city to land a job with a close family friend, something along those lines at least. How did he get the job at eighteen? Mark didn't answer that part; he continued talking like it was normal for that sort of thing to happen, since it was the best he could do so William would believe his story and call it a night from there.

 

“Wow, you're still the fast talker that I knew all those years ago.” William chuckles, already taking his next turn in the new round. So far, Mark was winning by a long shot.

 

Mark shrugs, leaning on the stick. “And you're still the judgmental type.”

 

“Guilty.” William wiggled his hips, bumping the white ball towards three others. “Seriously, though. It's great to see you again, Mark. After you left, life got kind of boring.”

 

Mark raises a brow. “How so?”

 

“I don't know.” William stands straight, thinking. “Just… after you left, I kind of had to start over with friends, you know? You were my best friend, and then, poof! Just gone. I understand it, though. My mom eventually told me what happened after a year or two.”

 

Mark’s chest tightens. “Yeah… yeah. I'm sorry we lost contact.”

 

“Dude, we were kids. Besides, we finally got a chance to start over after like, what, eight years?” William grins, watching as he got nothing in any of the holes. “Let's exchange numbers and catch up, huh? We got way more time to be best buds.”

 

Words caught in Mark's throat. In all honesty, reuniting with William was the last thing on his checklist, despite how harsh it was. There was a time he did greatly miss William, and a part of him still did and always will, even now. But everything else in his life was so… different. So dangerous. So unexplainable. Mark could never live a normal life like he used to, and unfortunately, a part of that related to William. He let go of that blurry past and moved on long ago, or so he thought. But now that William is here, being friends with one of his own was a cluster of emotions he didn't know how to exactly explain or comprehend it without looking like a total weirdo.

 

The taller man breathes in and nervously licks his lips. “Yeah, uh, William, you know Re–”

 

“Yeah I'm already his best bud, soooooo.”

 

Rex appears out of nowhere, slinging an arm around Mark's shoulders as his eyes glare at William from across the pool table. “I know this fucker like the back of my hand; better than anyone he's ever known.”

 

William blinks, tapping his finger on the long stick in his hand. Mark, completely and utterly shocked, snaps his head towards Rex, and Jesus he is definitely drunk. Mark didn't realize how much time had passed until the glimpse of the stars outside caught his dark eyes.

 

“Uhhh,” William nervously chuckles, looking unsure of himself, “Rex, right? Eve mentioned you and Mark were close. Good to know someone kept our favorite idiot at bay.”

 

It was a joke, and Mark did find it funny. Rex, however, remained unamused. He grabs the long stick from Mark and removes himself from the secret hero, taking his turn by leaning down and getting ready to strike.

 

“Yeah, yeah, and I did a pretty good fucking job at it.” Rex prides himself on hitting the target and watching it fly across the table. “Best bud, been through everything together, you know the good stuff.”

 

“Okay, Rex.” Mark grabs hold of his shoulder, forcing the other man back. “You're drunk–”

 

Rex shoves him off. “I'm perfectly fine! Never better! I’m going through the best feelings in the world.”

 

William leans back, brow raised. “Huh… feels like I'm missing something here.”

 

There it was; that sly smirk William has when he thinks he's onto something. It's been years, but Mark still recognizes it like it's only been yesterday since their departure. Rex, on the other hand, was completely unbothered, his elbow resting on Mark's shoulder like it was his typical everyday armrest.

 

“You're missing nothing.” Mark tries his best to defend his position. Rex whips his head to the side to look at the other in bewilderment, much to Mark's shock.

 

“Uh, hello?! Best friend in the whole wide world standing right here!” Rex points at the ground towards his feet, baring his teeth. “I've seen your dirty socks more than I could count at this point.”

 

“Rex!” He whispers-yells, the tip of his ears turning pink. “What’s up with you?!”

 

“You.”

 

Mark's entire face goes completely pink as the other man picks up a ball and tosses it in the air, completely dazed. William shrugs and turns away, walking back over to where Rick was.

 

“I'll give you my number later. Have a talk with your… friend there.”

 

That damn smirk. Mark glares at Rex, brows furrowed, as the drunken hero keeps tossing the ball.

 

“I thought William would be taller.” The dark redhead comments, unfazed by his friend's glare. “Eh, turns out he's not that much.”

 

“Rex.”

 

Mark turns the other man around to face him, nose wrinkled. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

 

“What?” Rex defensively holds up his hands. “All I did was come over and start a conversation! We're fineeee, stop trying to bicker about it.”

 

“You made a fool of yourself.” Mark hits his chest gently, face wrinkled with anger. “You just said a bunch of nonsense to someone I was trying to catch up with! I haven't seen William since I was ten years old; at least let me get his number first.”

 

Maybe a part of Mark did want that piece of his past back. He hasn't made up his mind yet.

 

Rex crosses his arms, looking away. “And do what? That Rick guy is his boyfriend anyway, you can't do anything even if you wanted to.”

 

Mark freezes on the spot, eyes widening and mouth agape. He blinks at Rex a couple of times, trying to find the pleasantry hidden in his face, but he basically finds nothing. Nothing but… bitterness? The half-human looks around them, like he was expecting an imaginary audience to be as shocked as he was.

 

“Excuse me?” Mark stared in disbelief. “You think… I was trying something with William?”

 

Rex pouts. “Beats me.”

 

“I'm trying to reconcile with a friend I haven't seen in nearly a decade, actually.” Mark grits his teeth. He is in genuine shock– he never expected something like this from Rex. Sure, he's had his moments, but this? And the way he's acting? Even drunkenness can't excuse that. “What is this? Jealousy?”

 

Rex's brows furrowed at that. “I'm not jealous! I don't get jealous. Why would I get jealous when I can do this and he can't?”

 

Rex holds up the ball and lights it ablaze. Mark's eyes widened, looking between the now charged-up bomb and Rex, who was staring at the glowing material in his hand.

 

“… I didn't necessarily mean to do that.” Rex hiccups, wiping his mouth. “Hold on, stand aside.”

 

Rex pushes Mark out of the way and tosses the glowing ball into the forest. Within seconds, it goes off with a high shriek, causing the place to shake a little. The half-human man stares at Rex with a mixture of shock and anger, while the drunk man scratches the back of his head and awkwardly looks around with his eyes.

 

“Uh,” a small tint of guilt finally crept on his stupid, handsome face, “okay, really, I didn't mean to–”

 

Eve appears behind him with a very serious expression, grabbing the back of his shirt collar like an owner grabbing their dog. “You and me. Alone. Now.”

 

Eve lifts up in the air and takes off, taking her ex with her. Mark stood there, stunned, as he watched them disappear into the night sky. He looked back at everyone else, meeting the shocked looks on their faces.

 

“Okay, soooooo…” William crooks in the silence. “Did your friend just make a bomb, or are we about to be attacked by wild bears?”

 

Mark hates when he's the one left to explain things. Fortunately, all the worry for that vanished as soon as the watch on his wrist buzzed for his attention.

 

____

 

“What the hell are you doing?!”

 

Eve shoves Rex onto his feet when she finds the proper clearing, landing on her own as she crosses her arms and nearly bumped heads with the taller man. Rex stumbled back a little, rubbing his face as an embarrassing flush formed on his cheeks. He was avoiding eye contact, letting Eve know he was in fact aware of his dumbassery.

 

“What?” Rex forced himself to stand straight, biting his lip. “It was an accident; I'm not lying.”

 

“You don't make accidents like that.” Eve pointed her finger against his chest, challenging him. “Are you seriously having fun being a jerk right now? Of all times?”

 

“Look,” Rex gently grabs her hand and moves her finger away, “I'm sorry for the commotion and what not, I swear! I'm just tipsy–”

 

“You're drunk, actually.”

 

“Can you blame me?! That William guy was getting way too friendly.”

 

Eve’s look falters, dismissing herself as her eyes search the hero’s face, raising a brow. Even behind his drunken state, his face was as easy to decipher as ever, as he always had the same three looks on him at all times. She's silent for a moment or two before it finally pops in her head why the hero suddenly got so upset. Her expression shifts from anger to amusement, a small chuckle leaving her lips, catching Rex’s attention in his drunken tantrum.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

Rex blinks. “No! Why does everyone think that?!”

 

“Because you are jealous.”

 

Eve knows Rex better than anybody else, the only other person taking her place being Mark. She remembers the times men would come up to her and flirt, unaware of the moody hero standing not too far from her and immediately bringing hell if they didn't instantly back off. Sometimes it was cute, but other times he'd go too far or be extra clingy around Eve, which other times could be annoying. Even talking about another guy made Rex pout and start acting like a jerk, whether it was directed towards the guy mentioned or sometimes Eve; however, he always apologized quickly and dropped the topic if she got too upset over it.

 

So, how he acted now told Eve everything she needed to know.

 

Rex pretends to not physically acknowledge her, still huffing and puffing. “Okay, I might have said some shit back there–”

 

“Yeah, and just made it weird for everyone.” Eve rolls her eyes, scoffing. “Mark was just happy to see William again, Rex. From what I gathered, they got separated; let them catch up for a bit.”

 

“It's just, well, I mean…” Rex's hands started fidgeting, “I got a little worried he was gonna ditch me, you know? I'm his best bud and all, but he used to talk about William all the time and… fuck, I don't know.”

 

Yep, that basically confirmed everything she held suspicion of. “Oh, so you're worried?”

 

“No.” He lies, terribly, forgetting he admitted that just only a second ago. “Okay, well, the way William was talking I was just–”

 

“Enough.” She smacks his arm, glaring. “Whatever you're thinking isn't going to happen. Mark cares about you and everyone already established you're the “bestest friends” around, so don't think a reunion is going to destroy anything or whatever it is that you're thinking in that empty skull of yours. It’s a bad look on you.”

 

The taller man continued to pout, but he seemed to sober up just a little. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't apologize to me.” The redhead crosses her arms once more. “Apologize to Mark and William. Especially William. He's my friend that you left a bad first impression on, Rex.”

 

“How'd you two even meet?”

 

“We go to the same highschool.”

 

“Uh huh. You know who never went to highschool?” Rex points at himself. “This guy right here.”

 

Eve blinks. “Whatever, just say sorry to him and stop being a jackass. You're making me look bad in front of Rae.”

 

It was Rex's turn to question the shorter woman. “What does that mean? She's seen you get your ass beat before, you do that enough– ow!”

 

Rex covers his side when Eve harshly smacks him, glaring. “I'm serious, Rex! It was already a relief she was able to come in the first place.”

 

Rex slowly blinks. “Wow, you really wanted them to come, huh? I thought that Amber chick was your best friend.”

 

“When we head back, you’re only allowed to drink water. Alcohol gives you a loud mouth.”

 

“You loved my loud mouth– ow stop! Okay! Jesus!”

 

Just as Eve was about to grab him and head back to the treehouse, her phone lightly dings in her pocket. She steps away and takes out the cellular device, and her face softens into a small pout.

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“Well, looks like Mark had to leave early.”

 

“… Fuck.”

Notes:

Be honest, how many of y'all thought the "possessive behavior" tag was for Mark

Okay BUUUT hear me out... Rex got super jealous of Mark and Eve just because they slightly breathed near each other, that boy gets JEALOUS !! Tbh I like jealous Mark too, but jealous Rex is so funny because he's 10x extra and literally didn't have to do all that but he did because he's Rex ☠️ dw everything will be totally fine!!

Anyway, we're on our last filler chapter before the real chaos begins! But don't worry, it won't be too long, our next filler chapter will be *flips page* wait *flips page* wait no *flips page flips page flips page* oh no no no...

Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

Summary:

“I can't keep up with your silly human times.” The Guardian waves him off, swimming closer to his castle. “Come in, come in! We have much to discuss!”

 

“Like, your city's impending doom?”

Notes:

Heh... I'm a fast writer am I right... (Says the author who gave herself their deadlines)

In all seriousness, this is just fun lmao. Getting my kick back is great and it's all because of Invincible <3 not much to say for this chapter other than it's a little juicy, and maybe fun, and perhaps silly. Silly little lore perhaps

Hope you enjoy!

“What did you want to be when you grew up?”

 

It was a simple question. It was typical in the eyes of others, but for Mark, it was the most normal way to start a conversation around a place like this. Could he have asked a different question? Perhaps. But it was an honest and curious one, and it wasn't like he hadn't thought about it before. It used to make him smile when she asked him during a rainy day.

 

The blonde man pauses, the stack of papers stilling in his hands as he glances over at the young boy beside him. Mark stared up at him with curiosity, brown eyes observing back at blue ones. His face was as still as ever, waiting for a response. Even if it wasn't one he wanted, he'll take it over the overbearing silence he's sat in for the past hour or so inside the director's office.

 

“Well,” the man, Cecil he calls himself, licked the tips of his fingers and flipped the report paper he had been reading over, “it’s a bit foggy in my mind. I haven't been young in a while.”

 

Mark could tell he was trying to make a joke, but he wasn't necessarily good at those. His face didn't shift when he tried to tell it, nor did his tone when the words left his scarred mouth. Even so, Mark smiled. Was it enough? No. It wouldn't be enough. But Mark found comfort in it anyway. He could tell the conversation would die soon again if he didn't come up with anything else to say.

 

“Did you want to be a firefighter?” He questions once again, shifting in the seat next to Cecil so he is now sitting on his knees. “Or maybe a lawyer? You look like you'd want to be a lawyer.”

 

That got some glee out of the older man, trying to keep his lips still, but there was a noticeable quick twitch in the corner of them. The young kid grinned to himself, knowing how sometimes he's completely irresistible to ignore.

 

“No, I wasn't that type of kid.” Cecil puts the rack of papers down and looks over at the child in his office. “I wasn't sure what I wanted to be, if I'm being honest.”

 

Mark tilts his head. “Like, you couldn't think of what you wanted to be? Not even a little bit?”

 

“Not even a little bit.” Cecil mutters, settling his elbow on the armrest of his chair. “I was too focused on other things– things like kids like you shouldn't worry about.”

 

The black-haired boy arches a brow, lifting his head up slightly. “I'm old enough to worry about them.”

 

Cecil was trying really hard to keep his face neutral. “You're only ten years old, kid. Worry about that spelling test next week.”

 

Mark frowns. Despite spending months in a literal government agency and not having much time to do anything else, Cecil still made sure he received some sort of educational benefits. He still didn't like the assignments, tests, and homework he was forced to do, but he wasn't allowed to say no. Cecil or Donald would come in every night and make sure he completed everything he needed to do, or else they wouldn't get him the latest Seance Dog issue that was released around that time frame.

 

“I wanna know more about you.”

 

“You know enough already.”

 

“Not really.”

 

Mark was always taught to respect his elders, but sometimes the elders around him annoyed him to the point he couldn't bother to play nice. He's had a hard time being nice the entire time. The only time he feels nice is when he's reading or watching Seance Dog or when Rex is allowed to come over and hang out with him. Knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere, Mark turns in his seat and stares out the window. He thinks it's noon, the way the sky is colored. He remembers flying through the calm sky at one point, feeling nothing but joy and peace. He was finally able to fly with the birds, but there wasn't the joy that came with it like it used to.

 

“I knew I wanted to help people.”

 

Mark perks up, turning his head back to the older director, curiosity sparked. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Cecil nods, his face slightly softer than before. “Jobs were… not always on my mind, but I knew I wanted to save lives, help the hurt, you know all of that– well, maybe you do.”

 

Sometimes, Cecil forgets he's talking to a ten year old boy. Mark shrugs, moving his arms a little.

 

“Me too.” He says quietly. “I want to help people. I want to help a lot of people.”

 

It was quiet for a moment. Mark thought back to when he was at home, how he'd stare out the window and wait for Him to come home and hear what He did that day to save the city. Was it the same for everyone? Even othere with or without a superhero parent?

 

“Are you a superhero?”

 

Cecil blinks, and he looks away, scratching the side of his face. “I wouldn't call myself that.”

 

“You help people. So, that makes you one, right?”

 

There was a small noise– a chuckle. The older man's shoulders moved slightly, and the noise got louder. Mark didn't know why he was laughing, but soon he was laughing too. It wasn't enough; maybe it'd never be enough, but Mark liked it for now. He laughed louder than Cecil, unsure why he was laughing with him.

 

But it did remind him of a simpler time. A time he nearly had forgotten. For a moment, he thought things could go back to how they used to be.

 

But that was all but a silly dream.

 

____

 

Unfortunately for Mark, his time with his old and new friends ran short when he received an emergency call from Cecil.

 

The half-human couldn't afford to minimize any time or come up with an explanation; he urgently hurried out of the comfortable home, saying something about needing to check on his schedule and he'll be right back– a crappy lie he couldn't bother to convince as true. But what he was told was too exciting to ignore– Cecil informed him that Aquarus himself asked for his assistance in recapturing an ocean-deep threat that could possibly endanger both ocean life and life on land. Mark wasted no time in getting into his suit and flying to the area that the old director pinpointed just for him. He shot Eve a quick apology text before his focus went straight into the mission alone.

 

The ocean was quiet this time of night, but Mark's signals in his headgear were warning him of a giant lifeform not too far from the ocean’s surface. He's been circling around above for a good few minutes, his anxiousness growing intently but not daring to tear his eyes away from the blue waves beneath.

 

He was told to wait here until a shuttle arrived. He's unsure why Aquarus specifically needed his help when he could have asked War Woman, or Immortal, or anyone else really. Not that he was complaining; he was down for whatever the king had in store for him, but it still left an unknown feeling swimming in his guts.

 

“Are the other Guardians busy?” The young hero questions still, even if he was secretly glad that they couldn't take this job from him. “Let me guess; is it another alien invasion on Immortal’s side of town?”

 

“Stay on topic.” Cecil demands. Mark took that as a yes and hovered closer by the shore, watching as the water and sand met and dusted together. He looked around for a moment, making sure he didn't spot anyone near him, before he settled on the sand and sighs, kicking the coarse material around. He was hoping he'd be fighting the “strongest sea beast ever recorded” by now, but it either disappeared, Aquarus already caught it, or it was a false alarm.

 

Mark stretches and reaches around to his back pocket, unhooking the fabric that kept his phone (mostly) safe during missions and taking out the small device. To his surprise, he sees he got a few text messages from an unknown number.

 

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Heeeeeeeeey Mark! Its William Dafoe texting you btw :p

 

Mark feels a smile pull at his lips. He quickly adds William's contact to his phone and changes the settings around it before he replies.

 

Mark: Hi William! It's good to hear from you.

 

Mark: I'm sorry I had to leave the party early. Working in a government agency kind of sucks.

 

William☀️: No prob man! I basically stole your number so we're all chill now

 

William☀️: Eve says you work a lot so I'm not mad or anything lol :p

 

Mark: Yeah haha. I promise we'll catch up next time.

 

William☀️: For sure! Btw your bestie apologized lol

 

Mark blinks.

 

Mark: Rex apologized?

 

William☀️: Yah lmfao. We're all chill in the house now

 

That was unexpected, but Mark was relieved nonetheless. Still didn't change anything, unfortunately, especially when Rex almost ruined Eve’s celebration party for something incredibly stupid . Just as Mark was about to reply with something else– probably a thumbs-up emoji or whatever– the waves at the edge of the shore shook, catching the young hero's attention. Instinctively, Mark tucked his phone back into his pocket and jumped in the air, fist clenched as his scanner beamed on and observed the depths beyond his vision. In a flash, a shuttle emerges from the blue, the lights blinding him for a second, making the young man look away. Even with the helmet, it didn't stop him from getting blinded by the bright lights.

 

He floats backwards, letting the shuttle adjust on the coarse sand and open up for Mark to enter through. Oddly enough, Mark hesitates.

 

“Getting cold feet?” He asks through the chipped piece. Mark shakes his head, like Cecil can even see him. “You're quiet; what's wrong?”

 

“I just… this doesn't feel like I'm about to fight a Kaiju.”

 

“Well, I was told it's a Kaiju, but it's an easy one.”

 

“Did Aquarus tell you that?”

 

Silence. Mark figured much. He presses one of the buttons on the side of his head and feels the helmet shift slightly. Within seconds, his entire neck was covered, an oxygen level appearing in the corner of his vision within the headgear. It wouldn't necessarily matter to Mark when he does eventually run out of oxygen, as he can hold his breath for an extremely long time, but it's better to talk to multiple people, or fish for better words, just fine without worrying about holding his breath for a long period of time. He takes one step on the metal platform, then another, and then gradually makes his way inside. The Atlanteans don't look at the half-human hero, too busy getting ready to take off than greet him with a simple “hello.” The taller man looks around and takes a seat in an empty chair, crossing a leg over the other as the ship begins to move.

 

“Your heartbeat is picking up.” Cecil cuts in. “You've been underwater before.”

 

“Yeah,” Mark whispers, turning his head away from the fish people, “but I never been to Atlantis or been around so many of Aquarus’ people. It feels weird; I'd rather just swim there myself.”

 

“It's in a secret location, Aquarus prefers if you’re escorted down there by his citizens.” Cecil comments. “Just go down there, take care of the problem, and come right back.”

 

That’s been the plan. Mark thinks to himself, slouching over. He looks towards the Atlanteans again and groans.

 

The ride didn't take long, at least not for Mark. His oxygen level was only at ninety-nine percent by the time they arrived in the beautiful city. He had to admit, it was pretty nice down there. He understood why Aquarus never let anyone, besides the Guardians, visit this place. That makes this whole thing kind of ironic, especially given the situation at hand. Secret location with a dangerous monster on the loose, and a newer hero had to be the one to arrive and save the day. He's definitely going to ask Aquarus about that.

 

Finally, they made it to the flashy castle, citizens and guards coming together to watch the submarine sink into the ocean floor at the expense of their arrival. Mark feels the halt of the machine and stands, watching as the two escorts stand from their own seats and eye Mark, making their way to the entrance. Mark bows his head, following behind them as the side door slowly opens and reveals the blue world hidden away from the moon’s eyes.

 

Mark’s body lightens as water comes through inside, settling in on the fact he was out of his own territory. With a hard swallow, the young agent follows the escorts into the courtyard, completely presenting him to all who look. He saw many different fish types staring down at him, eyes caught with curiosity and weariness. He didn't know if it was rude or awkward to wave or ignore, and he decided he'll find that out another time if he ever comes back here. His gaze lifts at the decorative underwater castle, the bright lights coloring his vision, and for a second, he forgot why he was there in the first place until the two small figures ahead came from the castle and floated right above the newcomer and the guards.

 

Aquarus looked the same as ever; the only difference was the small bits of aging around his eyes. Mark shifts his body a little, tilting his head, waiting. Aquarus and his wife (Mark recognizes her from the small parties she attends from time to time) glare at the half-human, silence quite literally floating around them with not a single movement made in sight.

 

Then, a high, bubbly laugh escapes from the fishman as he finally swims down after Mark.

 

“Mark-boy! It's been so long!”

 

The guides step aside as the Guardian reaches the black and green hero, instantly throwing his integumentary arms around Mark's torso. A small chuckle escapes Mark's lips as he steadily returns the embrace, patting the shorter king’s back gently.

 

“Nice to see you too, Aquarus.” Mark says, moving his arms so the fishman can move away.

 

“Have you grown at all?” Aquarus asks as he swims up, motioning for Mark to follow. “You look taller than the last time I saw you.”

 

“We saw each other at the New Year's party, remember?” Mark mutters, following after him. “That was just over a month ago.”

 

“I can't keep up with your silly human times.” The Guardian waves him off, swimming closer to his castle. “Come in, come in! We have much to discuss!”

 

“Like, your city's impending doom?”

 

No answer. Mark sighs and swims after Aquarus. He nods to his wife, who just nonchalantly stares, before he quickly paddles away and into the dimly lit castle. It was a nice place; Mark’s body turns around every once in a while to let himself float in a small horizontal circle and look at the paintings hung on the walls. Who knew underwater painting exists? Either way, they were nice, and Mark liked them a lot.

 

Aquarus brought him into a bigger room, waiting as Mark calmly went inside, then he shut the door and nodded to the guards around them. Immediately, two royal servants made their way to the table and placed a large piece of paper (at least it looked like paper) down and unfolded it. Mark stops mid-swim, pushing his body up and looking down at the material presented to him.

 

“Woah,” Mark cocks his head as the familiar Guardian floats to his side, “what is that thing?”

 

“That,” Aquarus points at the creature drawn, “is who we call Depth Dweller. My wife has kept her since my arrival on land as a form of high punishment for those who dare defy us.”

 

This thing looked massive. By appearance alone, it was definitely some sort of colossal sea Kaiju. Large forearms with giant pincers covered the upper part of her body. Mark could see why Aquarus’ wife had kept this thing as a punisher pet for their enemies. He was lucky the headgear covered his face, because the look he was making would make anyone believe he was going to back out and find someone else to do it, but the young man kept his cool and nodded, humming in response.

 

“How'd she escape?” Mark questions, tapping his finger on the table. “This looks like something that wouldn't be able to escape so easily.”

 

“From what we could find, she chewed her way through.” Aquarus replies, placing a webbed hand on his chin and strokes it. “Well, more like beating the chain until it broke. Her kind doesn't travel far from their territory, so I believe she's still in the area.”

 

Mark nods, clicking his tongue. “I see. Is there anything specific I have to know? You know, about her and everything? Is she going to try and eat me?”

 

Aquarus claps his hands together. “She may look threatening, but she's not so tough once you give her a wrestle or two! She was captured when she was young, but like all things, she grew and learned!”

 

Mark continues nodding. “Okay, okay. Sounds good. So, do I recapture her, or do I just…?”

 

Mark brings up both hands and presses his palms together, curling his fingers inwards. He looks at Aquarus, waiting for an answer, while still holding his hands in that position.

 

“Hm… well, I prefer if she's simply recaptured,” the aquatic Guardian says, “but you have heard of us fighting Kaijus before. If it's necessary, just knock her skull in. She's not the only one of her kind.”

 

“Oh.” Well, easy enough. “Okay, cool. One last thing.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Why am I doing this and not you?” Mark finally asks. He would never complain about a potential mission, even one such as this. But Aquarus was the king for a reason– surely he could handle this just fine on his own. And even if he couldn't, he can always wait for the Guardians to be– wait, no, monsters don't wait for people to stop being busy. Huh.

 

“Easy, Mark-boy!” Aquarus holds up both arms, showcasing to Mark and Mark alone. “Cecil said you have been trying to get jobs since you started! I thought I'd give you mine to kickstart the life of a hero!”

 

Mark opens his mouth to reply; say something like ‘but I’ve already been doing that’, but Aquarus’ smile, as well as his generosity, shuts him up immediately, and instead he holds out his hand for Aquarus to shake.

 

“Thank you. It's kind of you.” He says gently. Aquarus takes his hand, giving it a good shake as his hauntingly flat fish teeth pearled at the younger hero.

 

“Of course! From hero to hero, yeah?”

 

Mark quietly nods.

 

____

 

He's been sitting in the quiet for an hour. His scanner hasn't picked up anything, nor has he felt anything abnormal around him besides an ugly fish or two.

 

Mark picks up another shell and tosses it up in the water, watching as it slowly waves back and forth in the non-existent underwater waves before perfectly landing right in the oceanic sand. He stares at the clam, then groans and leans back, his hands finding the rock behind him and holding himself upward as his gaze reels above towards the watery barrier.

 

“Having fun down there?” Cecil finally returns, his voice slightly groggy. “You haven't moved in an hour.”

 

“I'm good.” Mark replies, feeling his eyes grow slightly heavy. “Just uh… waiting, I guess. My oxygen is at sixty-seven percent, I'm fine.”

 

“I can tell.”

 

Silence.

 

“You want us to send–”

 

“No.” Mark replied quickly, knowing what Cecil was going to ask. “I got this. I'm sure she's sleeping, and when she wakes up, she'll come out and start eating everyone.”

 

Well, he didn't want that. But it was kind of ridiculous he hadn't gotten anything in an hour, and it was likely almost morning. Did Aquarus say anything about Kaijus sleeping all night? Or if she's really good at stalking her prey?

 

Cecil's voice muffled inside his ear, but Mark’s mind slowly pushed it away when he saw movement up ahead. Between the rocks, something crawled in the seaweed, a noticeable clicking coming from that direction. The young man carefully swims up, the ocean pushing him over as he does so. Gradually, he paddles over to the sound, his heartbeat rising. He hears Cecil’s voice pierce through the mini intercom again, but his words are muffled in Mark's ears.

 

Slowly, surely, Mark brushes his hands through the sea grass, and instantly–

 

Comes across a small, blue creature looking up at him. He frowns for a second, then it makes a small squeak sound, and he finds himself giggling.

 

“You're not what I was expecting.” Mark quietly jokes, reaching over and petting its head. “What are you? You look like something Eve would like–”

 

Suddenly, the ground beneath Mark cracked and crumbled, deserts of sand flying around him as something crawled out of the ground below. His instincts kicked in; Mark pushed backwards and above the chaos beneath, the inner side of his helmet picking up a giant lifeform with a very big heart breaching the space he was once sitting in.

 

“Cecil, something's here!” Was all Mark could report before a large blue pincer burst in the watery abyss and a loud, ear-piercing shriek formed all around the strong hero. Mark's eyes shoot open, and he tries to cover his ears, forgetting about the protective gear covering his head, as a shocking sound wave hits him from all sides, his skull rattling from inside his head. He flies back as a razor-sharp claw extends after him, then crashes down on the ocean floor, the animalistic weapons digging into the crunchy sand and taking everything with it as the beast hauls itself from the depths of the deep.

 

Mark's eyes widened when he took a good look at the monster in front of him. This thing was way more enormous than in the drawing, at least eighty or more feet tall, from what Mark could make out. A powerful build on the crab-like body, the Kaiju was something out of a movie. Her body looked like armor, something Mark doesn't know if he could easily pierce through if he didn't hit the right angle. Her mouth hung open, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth stuck deeply into her pink gums, and if they weren't underwater, Mark would have been sure this thing was drooling just by the sight of him.

 

The Kaiju spots Mark above in an instant, her pincers shooting after him again and attempting to wrap her disgusting claws around the hero, aiming for his torso. Mark luckily dodged just in time, twisting his body away before the hard material could snap onto him. The Kaiju, however, didn't like that response, as she pushed herself up on her back legs to appear taller, and swung both claws towards her targeted prey, rough grunts and screams rolling off the tip of her tongue. Mark felt his skull shake again, backing away higher in the clearing as he stared at the beast below. His ears began to ring. When did his ears ever ring?

 

With a tired grunt, Mark clenched his right hand and dove after the Kaiju, vanishing into the abyss, cocking the same arm back and swinging down, hitting the side of the monster's belly. However, to his shock, the thing barely moves or even seems fazed at all. The beast whips her head around and swings her main assault weapon at nothingness, trying to find the attacker. The hero was quicker; flying under the lower part of the body, Mark whips his body around and throws his fist up, striking his knuckles into the lighter underside. The creature knocks sideways, staggering on all eight legs, then collapsing back into the heavy waves. As Mark begins to paddle up, a giant, muscular tail blocks his vision and collides with his body, sending him flying back and hitting into the ocean rocks below, tumbling for a second or two before he catches himself on his hands and knees.

 

“What the hell is going on down there?!” Cecil yells through the earpiece. Mark gasps, feeling the back of his throat dry. He feels his headpiece for a second, making sure no cracks or dents have been made on this one.

 

“I found her!” Mark coughs, his head whipping up at the big crab-like Kaiju. “She's bigger than I thought.”

 

There was a quick pause on the other end. “Fucking hell, she's huge.”

 

“I know! She's almost as big as Hail Mary.” His head was still shaking from the sound waves hitting his eardrums.

 

“This wasn't the deal.” The director's voice was thick with irritation and almost uncertainty. Looks like Mark wasn't the only one misinformed. “She's way too big for you, kid. I'm pulling you out; backup's on the way.”

 

Mark blinks once, twice, as he wobbly stands up on the sand, rolling his stinging shoulders. He feels the invisibility wear off, now his entire body visible to the creature in front of him. Despite her size, she easily rolled back on her spiky feet, back hunched as the direction of her head steered towards the spot where Mark stood, a low yet vibrating growl escaping from her ragged throat. Mark clenched and unclenched his hands, repeating this process several times, before he yelled out and kick-started after her, speeding towards the beast at high speed. The Kaiju’s claws moved the water around them as she whirled the left one in front of her, aiming for her opponent, quiet threats from the unspoken monster. The young hero darts past the attempted attack and knocks his fist into the front of her nose, or where a nose would be. The creature stumbles, then lunges forward and opens her mouth. Mark prepares for the worst, ready to feel sharp teeth attempt to break his skin.

 

Only to be met with a louder, more painful shockwave than earlier. His entire skeleton shook from the power of the creature, his eardrums nearly exploding inside his head. His heartbeat begins to pick up as everything starts to shake.

 

“Mark!” Cecil's voice, despite how it can bring comfort at times, wasn't really helping with Mark's sudden crash out. “Talk to me, kid!”

 

“That… sound!” Was all Mark could moan out, only now just getting his eyes to stop shaking as he took in multiple deep breaths. Fifty-nine percent oxygen left; how did it go down so fast?

 

The beast creeps over to the hero, a low, threatening growl ringing from her mouth once again. Mark manages to get himself together, shaking his head and pushing down the ringing leftover in his ears. Even so, he was almost at a dead end here; he had zero idea what he was going to do, but the beast was too close to the city, and he couldn't afford letting it loose or losing track of it while he was in a tight range. Mark thinks of all the lives there, families built in a steady place where only peace should be known.

 

His gut turns.

 

Mark looks between the blue void and the Kaiju. He was fast in water, but only at the right distance. The creature didn't look as fast as him, especially given her size, but she was just as observant as any living creature.

 

The young hero looks straight up. He looks at the Kaiju again.

 

Screw it, it's gotta be something.

 

In a quick sudden flash, Mark boosts up.

 

In blurry movements, the Kaiju clumsily tries to trail after him, her pincers snapping in the water, her throat wrenching for yet another shriek.

 

The agent stops just below the surface, the moon's light shining around him. He takes a deep breath, feeling his body tense. The shock of the noise still rattled in his skeleton, but that didn't matter. He looks in the direction of Atlantis, feeling a heavy weight drop on him like dumbbells, and sighs.

 

Without warning, Mark dives down, his speed increasing as he gets deeper. He spots the beast below; she sees him too. Her mouth opens, her teeth shining in the sea’s light, ready to scream. Mark feels his stomach flip as suddenly his legs pull back, a double knee-drop dispensed in the creature's visions as both joints strike into the upper part of the crab-like skull. Mark nearly felt his entire body shake from the sudden and fast impact, his body trailing in chills from the new move he had thought about for only a second. The Kaiju was stronger than it looked; the skin was tougher than it seemed, but the impact from the half-human was made as clear as day on who took victory in this battle. Her head knocked into the rocks under her, a sickening crack spreading across the blue abyssal sea.

 

She screamed again, head bouncing slightly from the hard material and sudden assault, before the screams rang quiet, and the hardshell body fell limp.

 

Mark didn't even realize the ground had cracked until he began to push himself up in the water. His knees wobbled as he briefly floated in the water, his scanner picking up the amount of red liquid blending in the ocean and small chunks of teeth and shell that had broken out during the collision. He looked at it up and down, making sure the thing wasn't moving. The liquid– the blood– swam around and turned purple in the small bits of waves, pieces covering the sand and shells, her sharp teeth adding to the decoration made by Mark. His vision switched in his headgear, and he saw the inside of the monster's body. The overgrown heart had stopped moving, one final beat to set it off until it no longer pulsed, and luckily it remained that way.

 

With a huff, Mark brings his fingers to the side of his protective gear and presses down.

 

“Threat neutralized.”

 

For once, Mark felt hurt. He looks down at his knees and sees the area on his suit had been ripped from his tricky attack. He reaches down and presses both palms on one of the stinging limbs, giving it a good crack until Cecil's voice returns through the earpiece.

 

“Nice work, kid. Had me at my ropes there for a second.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Mark starts to glide away from the scene, “first Kaiju fights are always something, huh? Glad to be of service.”

 

He hears the sound of flippers approaching, and leisurely turns to see Aquarus (as well as a few bodyguards) making their way over, the king of the underwater city looking at the new corpse of the Kaiju.

 

“Oh, she must have gotten bigger.” Aquarus says as he stops mid-swim in front of the younger man. “She wasn't that big the last time I saw her.”

 

Mark's shoulders drop, a tired groan surpassing his lips as his knees finally feel normal again. “Sorry I couldn't chain her back up. She was, um, a handful to deal with.”

 

“It's all good, my boy; there's more out there.” Aquarus beams. Mark felt irked, but he only nodded as his breathing returned to normal.

 

“Thank you again.” Mark mumbles, starting to push himself towards the surface. “Now I can say I fought a Kaiju.”

 

The king of Atlantis waves, his guards beginning to sail down towards the deceased beast. “I can put in a good word for you when another city needs help saving from another one of these!”

 

Aquarus lightly punches Mark's arm before swimming down after his guards.

 

“I'm going to get a report from him later.” Cecil says with some bitterness.

 

Mark chuckles, swimming away from the beautiful city and the dead creature that was probably already being eaten by fish and crabs. “Give him a break, Cecil. He's still learning how to talk to people.”

 

Mark was just glad he defeated it in time before it could attack the city. It felt reckless of Aquarus, but Mark appreciates the opportunity given to him anyway. His ears still rang, however, and as soon as he breached the surface, he removed his helmet and stuck a pinkie in his ear, tiredly grunting.

 

“Jesus…” Mark didn't like how his ears felt full despite his head being covered the entire time. His body felt normal at least, but the soundwave really caught him off guard. He’ll have to ask Cecil for a copy of his fight later and check it out himself.

 

As soon as he puts the headgear back on, he's met with a muffled, urgent voice from Cecil on the other end and another voice bickering back at him (possibly Donald). His heart rate picks up again, wondering what it could be now.

 

“Cecil!” Mark calls in. Nothing. “Cecil! Damn it…”

 

“Mark,” the familiarity of Donald perks through, “we have another situation.”

 

Mark stiffens in the air. “Send me the coordinates.”

 

“It's coming from space.”

 

The black and green hero pauses. He looks towards the stars, the sky now turning a light shade of purple as daybreak begins to breach through. He swallows, already flying towards the sky.

 

“I got this.” Mark reassures. “Where is it?”

 

He hears struggling on the other end. “Mark, you just fought a damn Kaiju, whatever this is–”

 

“I can handle it.” Mark bites quickly. “Heroes don't rest until everyone is safe. Let me do this.”

 

“You're going to give me another scar.”

 

Nonetheless, the location was sent Mark's way, and he flew at max speed in the direction of the approaching lifeform entering Earth's atmosphere. In milliseconds, he was waiting in the dark void around Earth, fist ready, eyes narrowed as his scanner picked up something approaching ahead. His tired mind fuzzed, his blood pressure picking up when a gust of a nothing wind stopped in front of him and a familiar voice echoed in his head.

 

“Invincible!”

 

Mark slowly lowered his fist, feeling somewhat grateful that it wasn't an actual threat this time. “Oh, it's just you, Allen.” Thankfully, Allen was wearing a blue jacket instead of a red one.

 

“Oh thank Heavens! I thought I was going to get lost again.” Allen says in a panicked tone, cracking his back. “Oh boy, I have not flown that fast since my youngling days.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Mark questions, floating slightly higher than Allen. The other alien wasn't a threat, but that doesn't mean Mark trusted him completely. “Did you find any more information about Viltrumites?”

 

“What? Oh, no.” Allen wiped his wrist on his mouth. “Wow, Earth can be really far when you don't know where you're going.”

 

Mark frowns under the helmet. “Allen, if you don't have the necessary information we need, then what's the point of you coming back here?”

 

“I have a reason!” Allen defensively holds up his hands. “Okay, look. After I told the Coalition of Planets about you and your little Earth dome, they were shocked! Surprised even! Our leader, Thaedus, went into deep diving for information about Nolan because, you know, Viltrumites don't leave their assigned posts, so it gets really–”

 

“Allen.”

 

“Right. Weeeeeelllll, and don't take this as a guaranteed thing, but we found a possible trace of a Viltrumite seeking refuge on a planet called Thraxa.”

 

Even in space, the void turns cold. Mark's body feels cold. The half-human stares at Allen in silence, his eyes widening as the information kicks around in his brain.

 

“Do you know anything about them?” Mark hovers closer, sudden hope creeping in. Allen shakes his head.

 

“Once we find out a Viltrumite is on a planet,” Allen looks towards Earth, “it's off limits, and we're forbidden to seek any more information about it. Thraxa is no different, but the weird thing is… it doesn't classify itself with any relation to Viltrumites. We didn't even know until, well, we went searching! We're always reporting on Viltrumites activity, yet this went right under our noses.”

 

The black-haired man was quiet for a moment. “You don’t even know for sure if this is the right person. You could have just wasted your time without realizing it; why?”

 

“Well,” the orange alien scratches the back of his neck, “you said you had beef with this guy, and I thought, well, if he really wants to find him, then maybe I can help a little bit. Also, you're a Viltrumite who didn't join the empire and instead wants to fight against them too, so… you know?”

 

Mark thinks for a second. Technically, it could be any Viltrumite on that planet, but what other Viltrumite stays on another planet and doesn't report it to the empire or the galaxy? Mark isn't sure how that works, but by Allen's information alone, that's a strange possibility that Mark can perhaps trust. On a planet called Thraxa, with no given information on possible conquering or invading from a terrible world-ending empire.

 

Mark turns to Earth, then back at Allen. “Do you have the coordinates?”

 

“Oh, yeah! Hold on, let me just–”

 

He takes out the miniature knockoff iPad and presses a few buttons, then hands the device over to his newfound friend. “Tada! It's a long-distance planet, but it's not impossible to make it with a couple of stops here and there– hey whatcha doing?”

 

Mark presses two buttons on the side of his helmet, letting the scanners and recorders pick up the information presented to him. He hears a small ding ring inside. Soon, a flash of numbers appears on the glass in front of him, analyzing the last bit of information before it finally permanently downloads in the system.

 

“Thank you, Allen.” Mark hands back the device. “I'll check it out for you, alright?”

 

“Are you sure?” Allen tilts his head. “By your voice, you sound pretty young, and most Viltrumites aren't really on the young side.”

 

“He– Nolan wasn't that old the last time I saw Him. I'll be fine.”

 

The bigger alien slowly blinks, his ears pointing up. “Wait, do you not know?”

 

Mark freezes. “Know what?”

 

“Dude, Viltrumite aging is no joke.” Allen points at his own face. “See me? I'm only, like, two thousand years old, a normal thing for me. But Viltrumites? Man, there are some out there that are older than me! You guys are basically immortal!”

 

Mark stares in silence. He tries to say words, tries to ask questions, but all that comes out are choked sounds that leave the desert in his throat. Viltrumites? Immortal? Was Mark immortal? He didn't think…

 

“I really don't know anything.” Mark mumbles, his hand dragging itself down his helmet. “I don't know a damn thing.”

 

“Oh, shit. Was that too much?”

 

“No! No, it's… it's good to know, actually. Again, thank you, Allen.”

 

They shake hands and part ways. Mark feels his mind spinning as he enters Earth's atmosphere, thinking of the information given to him.

 

A lone Viltrumite on the planet Thraxa. Viltrumites are immortal and live longer than two thousand years. How old was He? How old am I going to get? Why didn’t He tell me? Was I just going to find out when everyone around me died?

 

We live that long, and yet even after all that time with mom, knowing she wouldn't be around that long…

 

Mark's grief had never been greater.

Notes:

Okay soooooooooo

I was actually going to wait until Saturday to upload this chapter for a few reasons; the main being I was going to be busy for the rest of the week + Saturday as well so I was saving it for that day, but... I'm impatient lol. But because of that, no chapter on Saturday! The next one will be longer anyway, and it kind of helps that I'll have more time to prepare and write it before publication (because GOD I can't catch grammar mistakes + repeated words for the life of me, guys I swear I'm not dumb /j) (I also say this when I already said I would only push out 1-2 chapters a week if I'm able to... But again I'm impatient).

But I hope this chapter was still fun regardless :) I honestly enjoy writing about the guardians and their relationship with Mark here. I wouldn't say they're necessarily close, but they like Mark, he's funky to them. Idk too much about their personalities bc I only watch the show and have limited knowledge on the comics, but I hope I still do them justice! Especially War Woman 🙏❤️ wife, wait for me, Washington isn't that far...

Okay now back to writing away other gay stuff before I can't 🫡

Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

Summary:

“Hug? I know we don't know each other that well, but you seem the type to need one constantly.”

 

“Wow, thanks.”

Notes:

Wow... longest chapter yet, gotta give myself a pat on the back for this one 😆 this was definitely fun to write but Jesus lord what have I done to myself /silly

I apologize if there's a couple of grammar/spelling errors, again this is the longest chapter and I tried my hardest to catch everything, especially Mark's gay thoughts- okay anyway

Hope you enjoy!!

“I said no, Mark!”

 

“You won't even let me finish!”

 

“I don't need to hear the rest of it to know it's complete and utter bullshit!”

 

Donald watches with worry, clipboard held closely to his chest as the two most important figures of the GDA clash heads. Mark was hovering in the air, right above Cecil, with a vexed scowl overlaying his usual neutral face. Cecil, hands firmly placed on his hips, stared back at the younger man with a distasteful scowl written on his own. They've been arguing over this for the past few minutes, ever since Mark came back and finished the report with Aquarus. Cecil didn't even need to hear the rest of it to know where it was going, and it was pissing both of them off.

 

“It's not even that far of a trip!” Mark tries to defend, even though they already knew it was a lie. Just by looking at the coordinates alone, and by what Allen said, it was definitely a long, long trip that would take Mark days to make. He knew Cecil well; they already tracked the planet down themselves before Mark returned. “If I'm wrong, I'll just come right back!”

 

“It doesn't matter if you're wrong or not!” Cecil points a wrinkled finger at the floating man. “You're not running off to travel into space for something that we can't guarantee is true for! That trip takes six days! Six days, Mark!”

 

Mark scowls, baring his teeth. Sometimes, it's a curse that Cecil can run the data he collected quicker than he can process. “I just fought a Kaiju!”

 

“For the first time, remember?!”

 

“You let me! I can–”

 

“The final answer is no, kid.”

 

The black-haired boy takes several deep pants, his breathing hissing between his clenched teeth. His nostrils flared, brows furrowed, as his eyes darkened at the older man in front of him. He matched the scowl of the old director, not breaking eye contact as the two stubborn men held the silent standoff. Cecil, despite technically being the weaker of the two, stood his ground, face scrunched back at the stronger boy in front of him. Donald takes a step forward, nervously moving his head between the two figures, internally praying no one would lash out.

 

“Um,” Donald holds up a finger, “we should look into the database at this time; we're already behind schedule.”

 

Cecil narrows his clear eyes, never tearing them away from the opposing boy. “Then let's go. Mark, remember what I said. Don't make me catch you leaving the Earth like some runaway.”

 

Mark bares his clear teeth, anger ensuing, and Donald worried for a moment he was going to continue the argument before he dramatically turned and glided towards the door, fists balled at his sides to the point his nails were threatening to breach through the gloves.

 

“And no flying inside!”

 

Mark inhaled sharply, loud enough for both of the men to hear, then his feet planted on the grey tile floor with a loud thump. He doesn't even look back as he stomps through the automatic door and disappears around the corner.

 

“Well… at least you kept your cool.” Donald dryly humors, looking down at the charts in his hands. “Sir, don't you think–”

 

“I'm not sending him into space, Donald.”

 

“I wasn't going to say that.”

 

“I'm aware.”

 

Cecil adjusts his tie and takes a deep breath, his lips pressed into a firm line. “He’s desperate, but he's not ready for that. If Nolan is there, then let Him sit there until He's rotted away completely or decides to pay Earth a visit.”

 

The droid slowly looks away, clearing his throat. “You know he isn't going to let this go.”

 

“I know how Mark thinks, Donald.” Cecil faces him, glowering at the man he trusts most. “Don't give me that shit. I'll keep him under wraps until he's brave enough to disobey me. Until then, find shit for him to do.”

 

Donald nods. “Yes, sir.”

 

Meanwhile, a fuming Mark was making his way through the hallways, his eyes sticking to the clear tiles. He heard concerned voices– some familiar, some new– asking him if he's alright as he passed by, but he didn't mutter a thing to any of them. He only huffs and grunts as he picks up his pace before he finally reaches the one place where no one can bother him. With a loud grunt, Mark flings open the door and steps inside his bedroom. He runs a hand through his black mane, trying to calm down and maybe think of a more rational approach he could take to Cecil later.

 

“Woah, dude, are you okay?”

 

For once in his life, Mark really wishes he wasn't here right now.

 

“God, why are you here, Rex?” Mark questions as he walks past the man resting in his desk chair and inside his walk-in closet. “To gloat in basic decent behavior and apologize to someone for being a jerk?”

 

Rex was quiet for a moment. “Who the hell shat in your cereal this morning?”

 

Mark doesn't answer; he tugs off the slightly damaged suit and lets it fall on the floor, reaching for black pajamas and just wanting more than anything to just rest and only rest. He hears his chair wheel from behind, and he looks over his shoulder to find Rex peeking in the closet, then quickly ducking away once Mark spots him.

 

“Okay, listen,” Rex continues, “I was a total dick, like a MAJOR fucking dick, okay? Eve already let me have it. I went back and apologized, okay? William and I are a-okay.”

 

“Still doesn't take away the fact you nearly ruined an entire hangout.” Mark reminds him– already dressed due to his speed– walking out of the closet, still not looking at his friend. “You’ve got to lay off the alcohol, dude.”

 

Mark can feel Rex staring at him in surprise, acting as if he wasn’t expecting Mark's attitude in the slightest. “...Are you mad at me?”

 

“I’M NOT MAD!”

 

That came out way louder than Mark intended. He was facing Rex now, who blinked at his friend with wide eyes. The paler man chews his lip, backing away. He sits on the bed, now mildly embarrassed.

 

“Okay, seriously, is that the only reason you're here?” Mark questions, one hand rubbing the side of his face. “‘Cause I'm not in the mood to praise you for the bare minimum, or get you anything.”

 

“I'm not–! Jesus.” Rex sighs, steadily standing up. “No, I'm not here to actually talk about what happened at the treehouse, or ask you to get me something, or make fun of you, or whatever it is you think I'm doing.”

 

Rex stands over the sulking man now, crossing his arms. Mark looks up at him, his face slowly softening.

 

“I came to check on you, man.” Rex mumbles, his nose slightly crinkling. “‘Cause I know I was a jackass, and I know how you get. You weren't answering any of my texts or calls, so…”

 

Mark slightly drops his head, now feeling shame wash over him. Even if his phone wasn't broken, he probably would have been too busy or too angry to look at it anyway. Which was a crappy move on his end, since there were probably a few messages from different people heading his way right now, worried for the young man. And Rex being one of them just made him feel worse. It's not often that the guy admits he was out of line, especially so quickly.

 

“Sorry.” Mark looks away, his thumbs kicking at each other. “Uh, it was a stressful night, so.”

 

He feels the bed shift as Rex takes a seat next to him on the mattress. “Wanna talk about it?”

 

Mark practically spills out everything that happened within the span of five hours; from the trip to Atlantis to his argument with Cecil, Mark didn't miss any details as the story went along. As he crept closer to the details of the fight with the GDA director, his tone grew with agitation, his fingers curling into the yellow blanket. Even so, Rex listened, doing that one weird sitting position he does where his knee is pulled close to his chest and he lays his cheek on the top of it. The black-haired hero went on and on until he reached the end, eyes staring across at the grey-green wall. He waits for an answer or two, or maybe just a laugh from Rex. Anything kind of works, actually.

 

“Wow.” Rex finally opened his mouth. “That's pretty fucked up.”

 

Mark slowly turned his head. “Uh huh. It is.”

 

“It is.” Rex nods, smacking his lips together. “Very much is. I'm at a loss for words.”

 

Brown eyes twitch. “If you don't have anything useful to say, then just head back to the–”

 

Rex suddenly stands again, moving to the front of Mark's view. The slightly younger man leans back as the darker redhead unexpectedly opens his arms, looking down at Mark with a gentle expression. The younger man stares back, his eyes moving up and down, studying the other hero. So, this was the easiest way for him to apologize.

 

Rex raises a brow, and Mark responds with an exhale before he scoots closer and leans forward. He feels Rex wrap his arms around him and place his chin on Mark's head, stilling as they adjust in their spots. The half-human man closes his eyes and lets himself bask in the gesture for a moment, letting his own ignorance flood away inside the darkest corner of his thoughts just this once.

 

“Hero work just hates you, man.” Rex mumbles, moving his head a little. “It's only been a month, and you’ve already aged twenty years.”

 

“Yeah.” Mark didn't argue with that, his body slightly tensing. “My life was never easy; I don't know why I thought a hero's life would be any different.”

 

“It's never easy; you only learn to know when to kick its ass.”

 

Mark quietly snorts. “Wise words from a wise man.”

 

“Totally.” Rex chuckles, pulling away. “Better?”

 

The other man shrugs, trying to fight his smile. “Better than before.”

 

“Good! Now, can I put in my two cents on the whole…” he does a few finger gestures, “‘traveling to a different planet’ thing?”

 

Mark hesitantly nods, scooting back a bit as Rex flops next to him again.

 

“Well, while I think you're completely capable of going out there and beating that piece of shit into a bloody pulp,” Rex starts off, patting Mark's knee, “I think, and just hear me out, Cecil might actually have a point this time.”

 

Mark frowns but lets his friend continue.

 

“I mean, think about it, Mark. You haven't seen the guy in eight years; he could be anywhere and have gotten a total upgrade from the last time we saw him or whatever. Hell, you even said so yourself that Allen guy wasn't completely sure it was him in the first place. And with the distance and all that bullshit, maybe it's better to just… wait?”

 

The black-haired man opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, then opens it again. Words never left his mouth, never letting him fight against Rex's words and come up with an excuse on why he needs to leave Earth this instance. Instead, his eyes drift away, and he stares at the floor. His body felt light, different than it used to be, and he wasn't sure what that meant. This could be his one chance to find Nolan and avenge his mother, but could there be other Viltrumites there? What if it is a trap?

 

Rex gently places his hand on Mark's shoulder, giving him a tender squeeze. Mark groans and brushes his hand through his hair, suddenly feeling so, so tired.

 

“That Kaiju really got to me today.” Mark comments, eyes drifting to Rex's hand. “Can't seem to think straight all of a sudden.”

 

“Yeah, well, I heard those things suck to fight.” He grins, leaning in. “That's why my feet stay on the ground.”

 

“Please, if you could fly, we'd never see you on the ground again.” Mark chuckles, lying down, the other man's fingers parting from his shirt. “My knees are killing me.”

 

Rex lies beside him. “Yeah, knee-kicking a giant crab would probably do that. Not that I would know.”

 

Mark moves on his side so he is now facing Rex, meeting the leafy green eyes he's known for so long. “Hopefully you never do.”

 

Something in Rex's face changes, and he turns away, his sight meeting the ceiling. “S– So, no space trip, right?”

 

Mark is slow to answer. “No space trip. At least, not for now.”

 

“Thank God, ‘cause I thought I'd have to turn into your therapist and hold you down.”

 

“You can't hold me down.”

 

“I can try. It’d be easier than getting through that thick skull of yours.”

 

“I mean, if you agree with Cecil, it's got to be common sense, right?”

 

“Okay, fuck you.”

 

Mark chuckles, but the dreadful feeling never lingered away.

 

____

 

A week later, Mark was already back in the skies without a thought of the previous encounters. He soared through the clouds as he enjoyed the little free time he had away from villain fights and Cecil. Mostly Cecil. It eased his mind for a while and took some stress off his shoulders while he flew away his thoughts.

 

He hears the roar of a plane and flies higher, humming along as the giant object peeks into view. Mark pilots closer to the windows, glancing in them and seeing a young girl pressed against the glass, eyes struck with amazement. Smirking underneath, he salutes her, and she fundamentally beams and jumps in her seat. He chuckles before he drifts overhead and disappears into the purple sky once more.

 

He looks down at the beautiful city, streetlights appearing on as the sun sets on the horizon. On days like this, it was a guaranteed good sign of no problems or tragedies whatsoever. Mark really did feel the stress begin to drift away, and he debated whether or not to call Rex, Eve, or anyone really and see if they're available to hang out for an hour or two. He was still upset at Cecil and didn't want to head back yet. Just a little longer and he'll be fulfilled in a cozy, comfortable day.

 

That is, until something catches his eye.

 

NVNCBL

 

… Strange. Mark’s scanner picks up the words, and there was no doubt it was a message for him. Green paint, attempted wording, and in a spot someone knew where he would see it. The hero sighs and dives down, twirling in the air until his feet hover slightly above the concrete roof, pausing once he sees the stranger in grey.

 

“You missed a few letters.” Mark humors, crossing his arms.

 

The figure doesn't inch from his spot, keeping his hands tucked in his pocket hoodie as his dark eyes meet the glassy shield. “Paint costs money, and you got a long-ass name.”

 

His voice was gruff but not too intimidating. Mark didn't sense anything malicious from this guy, but he wasn't about to let his guard down just because he looked as vulnerable as any other powerless citizen in the area. The hero lowers closer and tilts his head.

 

“Oh, wait…” A soft chuckle breaches through his facade, “you're that guy Atom Eve stopped from robbing a bank a few months ago.”

 

The stranger stands and removes his hoodie, revealing his true self to the younger man. “My name’s Titan.”

 

Mark uncrosses his arms and finally plants on the roof, small dust scattering under his boots. “Oh, you're out for revenge, then? I can see if I can find Atom Eve for a rematch if you'd like.”

 

“I didn't call you here to start a fight.”

 

Mark perks up, a little sound going off in his headgear. “Oh?”

 

Titan grunts, dipping his head. “I called you here ‘cause I need your help.”

 

Mark’s shoulders rise from shock, an unknowing smirk pulling his lips back. “Why would I help you? You're a criminal.”

 

Titan smirks, his head picking up as if he could hear the slyness in Mark's voice. “You don't even know what that word means.”

 

“Uh… pretty sure I do.” Mark said, a little irritated.

 

“No, you don't.” Titan challenges slightly, his brows furrowing. “I'm not a criminal. I just owed one money, and now I can't get out.”

 

“Can't get out?”

 

“That's what I said. Aren't you a hero? Helping people and taking down bad guys?”

 

“Of course I am.” It was Mark's turn to slightly raise his voice, stance straightening.

 

“Then help me take down my boss.” The older man says, a hidden plea cooled in his voice. “They don't get any worse than him.”

 

“Who's your boss, anyway?” The hero steps forward. This felt odd; criminals don't come to heroes to stop other criminals. Was this Titan guy really telling the truth, or was Mark's own foolishness about to get him into something he can't back out of?

 

“Machine Head.”

 

That. That did it for Mark. His body tenses as the words leave Titan’s mouth. Machine Head– one of the biggest bads in the city, yet somehow almost as untouchable as Mark. He's heard from Red Rush’s complaints that the infamous crime lord was as smart as they come out to be, as he constantly sends Kursk out to cause havoc instead of doing his own shady business, as well as whatever other criminal he can get his rich hands on, to avoid the consequences. He was partnered with an organization that also had Kate's brother wrapped around their finger, and she's been trying to get him out for years, but Mark is secretly convinced he's there of his own free will.

 

“You work for Machine Head?” Mark steps forward as Titan walks towards the edge of the building.

 

“I'm surprised you've heard of him, given you're a rich kid from the suburbs.”

 

“I work at the Global Defense Agency.”

 

“Government department, suburbs– what's the difference?”

 

Titan places his hands on the stone wall, glaring at the tall building across. Is that his hideout? Not very secret. “Machine Head runs this city. If it's illegal and it makes money, it's his. And when people need to die to keep it that way, he's got muscle like me to take care of it.”

 

Mark was a big picture hero, at least for the most part. He's supposed to save the planet and defend each and every lifeform on it. He doesn't deal with behind-the-scenes stuff, even if Machine Head is a problem. Cecil has told him before; if they're not destroying a street, it's not his problem.

 

“Why me?” Mark questions, ambling up beside him. “Why not Fight Force? … Well, that one is self-explanatory.”

 

The bigger man sighs and turns to Mark, his eyes narrowed but holding no venom in them. “Let me show you what you don't see from up there.”

 

“How do I know you're telling the truth?”

 

Titan raises a brow. Mark stares in silence, then his shoulders fall as a sigh escapes his lips.

 

Minutes later, the wind whistles past as Mark flies through the old block, clutching the bigger man in his arms. Titan, arms crossed and mildly embarrassed, glares ahead, not bothering to make any eye contact with the hero.

 

“This some bullshit.” He says, nose wrinkled.

 

“It's not a party for me either.” Mark scoffs, frowning.

 

The unexpected duo settle on top of a roof, peering down at the trashmen gathering the dirty bins below. Mark settles Titan down and follows him as they watch the sketchy workers.

 

Titan points directly at the bin. “Machine Head owns the trash company– uses it to ferry drugs to stash houses all over the city.”

 

Mark watched as the shady men exchanged a few words with each other before they abandoned the bin in their hands. The other shady men slightly opened the lid, peeked in, and dug inside. Mark feels his face shift into disgust but doesn't interrupt Titan’s monologue.

 

Titan turns to face Mark. “Machine Head owns this whole block. He lays off inspectors so he doesn't have to fix shit, then burns them for insurance money.”

 

His gaze drops, his attention brought to the streets below. “If anyone's inside at the time, too bad.”

 

He nods his head to a flashy building. The younger man looks ahead and sees a green-haired man in a purple suit walk out with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking behind him as another man in a white suit walks after him, glowy eyes looking down at the phone in his hands. Mark knew instantly who that could be by just the appearance alone. The man in white snaps his fingers, and the other reaches over and grabs his shoulder. They disappear in a flash of light, no evidence of them left behind.

 

“Can he teleport?” Mark questions. He's not too sure which criminal has what power, but a physical teleportation power does sound handy.

 

“His pet can.” Titan grits his teeth. “Let's go; you've seen it all.”

 

They had one more stop to make, according to Titan. Mark brings him into a smaller neighborhood, dropping him off and hovering in the air as his eyes stay locked on the other man.

 

“You help me take down Machine Head,” Titan’s facial expression was slightly rougher, “you help real people with real lives. Think about that next time you're fighting some stupid Elephant Man or whatever.”

 

Titan steps aside and walks past Mark. The hero quietly turns his head around with curiosity, watching over his shoulder to observe the man leaving.

 

“Why did you borrow money from Machine Head, anyway?”

 

His heart drops when he sees Titan looking ahead at a woman and a little girl. Even from a distance, the girl almost looks like a younger and softer version of Titan.

 

“It wasn't for me.”

 

Titan stalks off across the street, meeting the woman and the girl halfway. The girl brightens when she sees Titan, letting go of her mother's hand and skipping towards her father.

 

“Daddy!” Her face changes as she steps down, suddenly faltering and nearly falling on herself if it weren't for the family man catching her and cradling her close in his arms. Mark feels his heartstrings tug, watching as he carefully raises her against him and walks with his wife down the sidewalk. He’s there for a long time, the voice of the girl echoing in his head until the family was gone and completely out of sight.

 

Mark swallows and lifts off in the air, his brain tickling with uncertain thoughts.

 

____

 

When Mark returns to the base, he's surprised to find a visitor there waiting for him.

 

“The new episode of Seance Dog came out,” Rae lightly swung the black bag in her hand as she and Mark traveled through the long hallway, “and I was thinking it'd be cool if I actually had someone to watch it with.”

 

Mark removed his helmet, looking at the shorter woman and smiling. “Yeah, that'd be nice. Sometimes I'd have Rex watch them with me, but he'd either go through my old books instead or sleep halfway through the episode.”

 

Rae gently bumps his shoulder with theirs. “He just doesn't get it. Also, I didn't imagine the hallways of the GDA would be so…”

 

“Long? Endless? You memorize where everything is after a while.” Mark shrugs, seeing his door ahead. “We're here.”

 

The duo let themselves in, Rae already taking a look around the out-of-place bedroom built into the steel walls outside. It was partially empty with only the posters, collectibles, and the big shelf of books didn't take up the majority of the room.

 

“Wow, it's way different than out there.” The brunette mentions, peeking at the taller man as Mark closes the door. “How long have you been living here?”

 

“Um, eight years.” He chuckles nervously. “Almost. Next month I will be.”

 

“Cool.” They whistle. “Do you go into the secret rooms?”

 

“Some of them; Cecil limits where I can go.” Mark shrugs, placing his helmet down. “Uh, I gotta…”

 

“Oh.” Rae turns, back facing Mark. “Right, sorry. I'm used to dudes changing in front of me.”

 

“What does that mean?” Mark snickers, reaching up and tugging at the top of his suit. She shrugs, placing the bag down on the bed as Mark changes. Soon enough, he was in a light blue hoodie and grey sweatpants that had been lying in his closet for a while. He settles down on his bed, as does Rae, then switches the TV on and goes through his recordings.

 

“I heard this episode was directly taken from the comics.” Rae reaches over and picks up the bag. “I think BeWilder is finally making an appearance.”

 

“That'd be shocking. I wonder who's going to voice him.”

 

“I heard it's that one guy that plays as the, uh, bat-wielding freak from that zombie show.”

 

Rae takes out a bag of popcorn and plops backward, resting on her elbows as Mark starts the latest episode. In a way, it was weird but kind of nice to have someone other than Rex stay in his room. Eve did a few times, but only in the company of Rex. So, Rae being here proves he can handle more people lounging in his room.

 

Usually, that’d be his thought for the night, then he would focus on the show at hand, but he couldn't shake off his earlier conversation with Titan. Going against Machine Head, the biggest crime lord around the block, would certainly get him some enemies. But Titan's family pulled at his heart, and even with the new episode, he couldn't focus on anything that was happening. It kept shooting back to Titan and his family for a long time until Rae finally hit the side of his heel.

 

“Mark? You listening?”

 

“What? Oh, um…” Mark rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, something's on my mind.”

 

“Not Seance Dog, I can tell.” The brunette pushes herself up in a sitting position, hands pressed firmly on the mattress. “You good? Was it a bad day?”

 

“No, it's, erm…” Mark slouched against the pillows. “Ugh. I met a guy who wants me to take down his boss. The problem is, his boss is Machine Head.”

 

“Oh shit.” She adjusts her glasses as Mark continues.

 

“And at first, I was thinking, well, this could be a trap. But he has a family, and now I really want to help them, but he only really wants my help, and it's… I keep trailing off.”

 

“You're fine.” Rae changes position so they are facing Mark and scoots closer, gently smiling at Mark. “Can't make up your mind? Or is there a weird sense going on in that head of yours?”

 

“Well, I don't know how to approach Cecil about it.” Mark grumbles at the mention of his name. “I know I can take Machine Head. He's just a criminal with a special head and a few special guys. Well, his right-hand man can teleport him away if I'm not careful.”

 

“Wow, Cecil would be jealous.” They snicker, but their tone remains neutral. “Do you want to help this Titan guy?”

 

Mark shrugs, face dropping.

 

“Okay, let's put it this way; do you want to help this Titan guy's family?”

 

He does pause at that. “I do, but he could be trying to use me.”

 

“He could be,” the pale woman sighs, looking away, “or he's just trying to protect the last good thing he has. When you've been in this kind of thing for a while, you notice the line between lying and telling the truth pretty well.”

 

“Funny, because I don't think he's lying.” The black-haired hero sits up, his back now pressing against the headboard of the bed. “I don't think Titan wanted to be a criminal in the first place.”

 

Rae nods. “That does happen a lot more than you think, to be honest. A lot of criminals were forced into that position, just like how a lot of people were forced into hero work.”

 

Mark raises a brow. “Why do you say that?”

 

She quietly chuckles. “Trust me, I just know. Some families see the big bucks when they find out you have powers, and… well, never happily ever after.”

 

Mark's situation was different, so different, but those words stuck to him. In a way, he didn't get a choice either, and it only left him feeling sympathetic towards Titan. Any suspicion he had for Titan instantly melted away.

 

“I think his daughter's sick.” His voice softens.

 

They're quiet for a moment, the only sound being the latest Seance Dog episode playing on the TV. Then, Rae straightens up and leans forward. “What have you done?”

 

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

 

“How many lives have you saved?” She continues. “You've stopped bank robberies and asteroid hits. Eve told me you fought a Kaiju last week. Like, I mean, c'mon. You just help people, Mark. Helping people is never beneath you, so don't act like it is now because the guy has a history he never wanted in the first place.”

 

Mark smiles, feeling his eyes prick a little with tears. “Thanks, Rae. You really do think about this stuff.”

 

“Yeah? Well,” she looks away, her expression dropping a little, “like I said, I'm familiar with this scenario. Have been for a really long time.”

 

They open up their arms, their green eyes focused back on Mark again. “Hug? I know we don't know each other that well, but you seem the type to need one constantly.”

 

“Wow, thanks.”

 

But Mark didn't hesitate to sit up and hug her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

 

“Sorry, this was supposed to be a Seance Dog night.”

 

“Nah, I snuck up on you. It's okay–”

 

The door creaks open, and Donald unexpectedly steps inside. He caught a glimpse of the duo’s position and pauses. They both stared at him in silence, making things slightly awkward.

 

“Um, dinner is ready if you… want to invite your friend.” Donald slowly backs away and closes the door.

 

“... Does he think?” Rae looks at Mark.

 

“Nah, he's just awkward. He's walked on me and Rex before and does the same thing.”

 

“Huh, guess I accidentally confused him.”

 

“What?”

 

“What?”

 

____

 

The penthouse was in the stages of emptying out for the night. The sky was a beautiful orange by the time Mark arrived, spotting Titan already waiting for him. He presses the side of his helmet and scans the inside of the building. Most of the guards were on the floor where Machine Head was located, protecting the entrance with their lives. Fortunately, there’s still not enough to stop them, at least. He descends down and looks at Titan, nodding.

 

“Thank you again.” Titan mutters, removing his hoodie. Mark makes a face under the headgear, backing away slightly before the man's muscles tensed and bolded rock formed on his once smooth skin. He stretched his arms as the last of the hard surface covered his head, revealing the side of him Mark wasn't as familiar with. He watches as Titan takes a few steps back, then charges and leaps off the high building.

 

Honestly, Mark was impressed by the skills of Titan. He watches as the man curls into a ball and crashes right through the large window, alerting everyone inside. Mark dashes after him, immediately body-slamming into a man that narrowly dodged Titan. The duo look at the other guards in front of them, eyeing them as they back up and drop their weapons, hands in the air. Mark couldn't help but smirk a little in pride. Then, he swings around and punches the door down in one fell swoop. Inside was a giant office, and on the other side was the crime lord himself. His head was more detailed up close, his pink eyes blinking as he scribbled down on a piece of paper.

 

“Machine Head!” Titan's growled voice broke through the stone-like face.

 

“Get up. We're taking you in.” Mark cuts in, clenching his fist. Machine Head, however, seemed unbothered by the entire confrontation. Mark scowls and zooms over, slamming his knuckles on the polished desk. “Hey! It's over. The Global Defense Agency is on their way.”

 

They weren't, but he was trying to sound threatening.

 

“Carry the two– oh hello Invincible.” Machine Head finally looked up, bright eyes reflecting off the shiny glass. Mark grits his teeth, already feeling his patience growing thin. “Titan.”

 

“Boss.” Titan appears at Mark's side.

 

“You were right.” The crime lord’s voice sparked. “You're so strong, tough, and you! You!” His voice wobbled and staggered as he talked. “You fly all over the Goddamn place! It's amazing!”

 

Mark continues to stare, uttering nothing.

 

“Don't worry, I already know about you!” He waves his pen in front of the agent's face. “I also knew exactly when you and this giant pile of shit would walk in and ruin my doors– ALSO ITALIAN MAPLE, BY THE WAY!”

 

Mark slightly flinches at the sudden raised tone.

 

“No way you saw this coming.” Titan accuses.

 

“Ooooh, is that what you think?” The autotune voice suddenly jaggers into a happy, teasing tone with a spill of poison mixed in. “See, this is what happens when your head’s a fucking rock.”

 

Sparks of green suddenly flash behind Machine Head, then the figure of Isotope– that's what Titan called him– takes shape in front of the other two men. Mark’s body jolts, taking a step back.

 

“You said you took care of him!”

 

“I know what I said.”

 

Mark looks at Titan, only meeting the emotionless, stoned face of the bigger man.

 

“This little upgrade,” Machine Head points at the side of his head, “shows me all kinds of possibilities! Which is how I know it's not worth explaining to you two morons what quantum probabilities are.”

 

He shrugs, still waving the pen between his fingers. “But it doesn't matter. In a way, Invincible is a step ahead. Unfortunately, I am out of my league… except I got MOOOONNNNEEEYYYYY.”

 

Isotope holds up both of his hands; soon, flashes of green appear all around Mark and Titan. The GDA agent scans all over the room and sees intrusive faces surrounding the two intruders.

 

“I thought you guys were in jail.”

 

“I have my waaaaaays.” Machine Head wiggles his fingers.

 

Mark pants, looking among the group of villains. Tether Tyrant, Magmaniac, Kursk, Furnace, and… What the hell is that?

 

A giant, white lion stood among the old opponents Mark had faced before. He was bigger than Titan, muscles obvious from the fluffy coat that covered his body from head to toe. In his left claw was a giant mace, the structure of it reminding him of War Woman’s. His outfit was of red, black, and gold. White and red. Red and white. Two colors too close together. Mark felt his heart speed up and his fist ball, already in a fighting stance.

 

“Give me a show, prison escapees!” Machine Head throws his hands up, his autotune bouncing off the walls.

 

Mark launches forward and instantly clocks Kursk in the jaw, sending the lightning criminal straight into a wall, cracking the surface. The criminal yells out and shoots blue lightning after him, holding his jaw as he struggles to stand from his spot. He misses when Mark turns his body and punches him again, quickly grabbing him by the throat and throwing him hard onto the shiny ground. He hears Titan cry out behind him, a loud crash breaking the floor beneath him as he wrestles the giant feline onto the floor. The lion dangerously growls, the sound almost mimicking maniacal laughter from being thrown around by the rock giant.

 

The hero could barely comprehend the situation burying him as the villains circled the younger man. Kursk continued to shoot bolts of electricity after Mark, Magmaniac followed behind as he attempted to shoot lava at the younger man, and Furnace was blocking any attempts to get to Machine Head with his boulder-like body. He gasps when pink tape wraps around his torso and pulls him back, slamming him against the wall and letting the hero fall flatly on his feet. The inside of his headgear beeps rapidly; Mark doesn't even look as he ducks, the giant mace barely missing his head. His fingers grab the pink ties and tears them off, hearing Tether Tyrant cry out as chunks of wrappy pink fall around his feet.

 

However, the small victory doesn't last long as a giant claw-like hand grabs the back of Mark's head and slams him down on the wooden floors, feeling it crack from the impact. Mark reaches up in an attempt to grab him, but the beast already caught what the hero was trying to do. He hauls him up and slams his giant knee into the middle of Mark's spine. The young man silently screams, mouth hung open as pain shot throughout his back. Then, the beast holds him up and presents him like a trophy to the crime lord watching. He sees Titan crumble on the ground, a clear show-window for Machine Head to observe and jolt over in excitement at the man's vulnerability.

 

“I’m gonna grind you up and use you to pave my driveway!” He taunts the strong man, folding his hands together.

 

Magmaniac lifts his arm and blasts a river of lava right onto Titan. The man cries out from the assault, his body barely shielding him from the hot magma. Mark's eyes widened, the sound of painful cries entering his ears and twisting the inside of his head.

 

The sound of painful cries as no one comes to help. Helpless in a situation that Mark could have stopped. Yet, all he does is stare in fear as the cries grow louder until they fall silent.

 

Mark’s heart bursts in speed; he throws his hands over his head, his gloved limbs finding the strong arm and tightly curling his fingers around it without warning. At once, Mark threw the burly beast over him and slammed him directly into the ground below, more cracks forming in the once nice office. His hand catches Tyrant’s dumb little pet again, who had just attempted to grab him again, and throws him in the air and across the room, colliding him into his bright, lava-based partner. The two criminals fly back, nearly toppling out of the window if the heating man didn't change back and grab onto a broken piece of the ceiling, preventing their possible demise.

 

Kursk backs away as Furnace steps in front of him. Mark’s hand twitches as he flies forward, discarding the raised cannon as his knuckles clash into the stony side and send him barreling right into his shorter companion. They crashed through the already broken wall of the room, chunks of the ceiling falling with the barrier and on top of the two opponents.

 

The rapid hero turns his attention to Machine Head, who still sat in silence and watched Mark tear the place apart. He lunges forward, fist raised in the hot air, before a large object unexpectedly hits into his side. Mark nearly falls on himself, stumbling in his steps. He hears the laughter of the giant lion near him, a low growl colored into the mix.

 

“A worthy opponent.” The thing says, licking his lips. “I was afraid it'd get boring here.”

 

The beast swings his club at Mark, and the younger hero barely looks as he barely catches it in both hands. Gripping his fingers on the shiny object, Mark yanks it back and throws it in the direction of Kursk and Furnace, not caring enough to see if it hits them before he flies ahead and right-hooks the feline in the jaw. There was a loud crack that followed after, but the big animal only smiled, sharp teeth presented in a bloody smile. Mark hits him again, catching his nose, then feels the opponent’s own fist slam into his abdomen. The taste of iron was starting to fill his mouth, yet Mark couldn't feel himself stopping.

 

The young hero grabs both sides of the villain's face and slams his helmet right onto the center of his head. The impact caused glass to shatter in Mark's face, his left eye now exposed, the bloodshot muscle filled with fury. The white feline stumbled back, that creepy smile never faltering.

 

“Honestly, I'm impressed, kid!” Machine Head claps. “If you weren't a stuck-up, douche-ridden hero, I'd offer you a job and pay you handsomely!”

 

Mark ignores him, his mind too focused on the white and red beast. The other colors didn't matter to the stubborn man; the two ruined ones were all that he needed to rip and tear apart through the county of villains.

 

“Wait!” Machine Head reaches up to his cyber-like skull. “Wait, I'm getting something–”

 

The wall to the room suddenly burst open, clouds of debris and dust exploding in the office as a group of heroes made their way inside. Mark's heart drops. Oh no.

 

In the group were none other than his own friends; Rae, Kate, Robot, Amanda, Rex, and a very familiar man who appeared from the dusty mess. He curses, quickly bringing his attention back to the giant cat, mumbling under his breath, then he boosts over to the mini group in the blink of an eye.

 

“What are you doing here?!” Mark nearly yells, exposed eye scanning over the unexpected suicide squad.

 

“I couldn't let you come here alone, Mark.” Rae answers, landing on the ruined ground. “If it's with Machine Head, then it was bound to be a fucked-up, unfair fight.”

 

“Ha! Smart girl!” Machine Head cheers. “I like you!”

 

She cringes at that.

 

The iron in his mouth begins to sweeten, and he doesn't know whether that's a good or bad thing. He watches as Amanda shifts into the ogre-like form he saw at the party along with multiple Kates appearing rapidly throughout the room, ready for battle. The stranger hovers in the air with Mark, smirking as they meet eyes.

 

“You’ve grown, little man.” He says. Mark blinks, finally comprehending who he was looking at. Zandale?

 

Rex says nothing as he grabs a nearby piece of merchandise that used to belong to Machine Head, lighting it up and hurling it after Tether Tyrant, who was attempting to strangle Titan if it weren't for the shocking explosive that went off in his tired face. Magmaniac growls and morphs into the lava-like form everyone knew him as, nearly charging into the orange and yellow hero if it weren't for the metallic body of Robot blocking the assault and blasting his own miniature cannon into the criminal's body, almost cutting him in half. The lion was cackling at this point, running at Amanda and raising his club towards the torn sky.

 

Mark tackled him away in an instant, grabbing the top of his head and chucking him right through the ceiling, more chunks falling and breaking the floor beneath. Kursk rushes at Mark, hands outstretched, but a tiny figure unexpectedly jumps on the back of his neck and wraps their arms around the criminal’s airway, squeezing. The yellow criminal spits and cries and claws at his neck, orange eye-like bolts widening as the color in his face begins to drain.

 

The agent turns his attention back onto Machine Head, who was now standing and gesturing to all corners of the office.

 

“MURDER. THESE. ASSHOLES.”

 

All at once, Furnace and the lion rush forward, crying out at the bundle of heroes. Zandale cracks his neck and boosts towards Furnace, slamming his forearms into the stone-like body and shattering the entire thing into the floor. Amanda, up on her feet again, catches the lion by his weapon and pushes him back, then lifts her balled hand and slams it against the beast's skull, blood flying out of his black nose.

 

As the lion was readying to strike the big hero, three Kates unexpectedly jumped on the fur-coated criminal, all of them holding Rex’s explosives in their hands. Amanda manages to step back in time before they went off, all three Kates exploding in the process, but the bombs being enough to slightly daze the furry beast, who was wiping his bloodshot, yellow eyes with his big arm. Taking the opening, Mark dashes through the messy crowd and slams both elbows onto the beast’s chest, feeling blood splatter on his headgear and the broken hole, droplets spilling on his exposed skin.

 

Then, Mark feels something wrap grab his ankle and yank him back, swishing him away from the violent battle. The agitated hero whips around in a fit of rage and lifts his fist, ready to strike, when a face he knew all too well blocks his sight, and he freezes mid-air.

 

Tether Tyrant had two sets of colorful rope tied painfully onto Mark's ankle, holding him in place, while the other sets wrapped tightly across the torso of Rex, holding the hero in front of him like he was a personal shield. Rex, blood running down his nose, stared at Mark with wide eyes. Mark couldn't bring himself to move, pupils gaping down at Rex with hesitancy. The tyrant smirks, tightening the hold on Mark, but the half-human doesn't seem to acknowledge his own position in the situation.

 

Then, a pained cry echoes swarm the room as the sound of bone breaking swims in Mark's eardrums. Rex’s expression shifts to fear, staring behind Mark, yet the GDA hero couldn't turn around, not while Rex was threatened like this.

 

He growls and yanks his leg back, pulling the criminal forward. Mark grabs him by the jaw and slams his head down, his blood splatting the broken floor again. He grabs the weird tape ropes and rips them off, pulling Rex against him and kickstarting backwards, putting distance between him and the other criminals. His attention reels in when Robot cries out, a large beam of light flashing and shaking the room. Instinctively, Mark shields Rex with his own body, feeling the room about to collapse from the tension of the fight while the building threatens to crumble.

 

Soon, silence fell. Mark turns his head over his shoulder and sees the dominant fighter holding up both Amanda’s and Rae’s bodies like trophies, yet he doesn't look satisfied with the prizes he had claimed.

 

“This battle is beneath me.” He growls, then drops the two unconscious women. “There is no honor in killing instincts. I will be back for one of you.”

 

A yellow portal opens up, and he steps inside, disappearing from the fight altogether. Mark feels himself gasp, as if he was finally given permission to breathe.

 

Amanda’s body shifts, and she's back into her normal form. Blood ran down her pale, unconscious face, unknown if she was even breathing or not. Robot crawled over to her, shaky arms extending and gently grabbing her body, cradling her against his cold figure as desperate pleas escaped his voice box. Mark feels Rex wiggle out of his grasp and rush over to Rae, Kate following after him and falling to their knees beside the unconscious hero. Kate presses her hands against the other woman’s chest and starts compressing, while Rex is yelling words that Mark can't hear, trying to get them to wake up.

 

Mark looks over at the crime lord, his rage returning. He stands slowly, bloodshot eye twitching.

 

“This was an unexpected possibility.” He chuckles, unfazed by everything around him. “Isotope, let's go–”

 

When he looks, his pet is no longer there guarding him.

 

“Isotope?!”

 

Mark appears behind him and slams his fist into the back of his head. The criminal is out cold in an instant, a few murmurs autotuning their way through his fake lips before his head falls and bangs on the desk, unmoving. Mark collapses on his knees, staring up at the broken ceiling, breathing heavily. He rolls his head to the side and observes the condition of the room; Titan is nowhere in sight. All that's left is the hero group that came to his rescue.

 

I didn't need it. Now you're all hurt.

 

The man he had fought years ago walked up to the black and green hero and extended his bloody hand, the other one holding and pressing his injured side. Mark gradually takes it and stands, coughing.

 

“You're a real piece of work.” He jokes. “Bulletproof on missions, by the way.”

 

Mark nods. “Agent Invincible.”

 

Flashes began to take up the room, which made Mark groan, looking away while shielding the side of his face. He should've known Rae would also inform Cecil on the dangerous mission he took up behind his back, yet he couldn't find himself to be angry. She was hurt, Amanda was hurt, and everyone here could have died. He swallows when familiar footsteps approach him and Bulletproof.

 

“Jesus, kid.” Cecil stands beside Mark, looking him up and down. “Who the hell did this to you?”

 

“Didn't get his name.” Mark mumbles, his exposed eye never meeting the director's. “He's gone now, though. We just have the typical, as well as Machine Head.”

 

Cecil’s face slightly scrunches, but he doesn't say much else. He looks at the condition the young man is in and sighs, gesturing for medics to come his way.

 

“We’ll talk later when you're all better.” Cecil promised, turning his back to him and walking towards the other injured heroes. The paler man couldn't help but feel somewhat glad that Titan wasn't here to see this.

 

It did leave him wondering, though. Did Titan know this was going to happen?

 

”I thought you said you took care of him.”

 

“I know what I said.”

 

Damn it.

 

____

 

Mark waited until the next day to check on his new and improved suit. He knew Cecil would make extras in case Mark ever ripped it during missions, and sure enough, he was right. New sets of headgear and suits filled the entire room, and he wasted no time in getting a new one and putting it on. He's only been in the infirmary for twenty-four hours, but his body was already healed completely; one good thing about being half human was that he healed quicker than others. Soon enough, Mark was dressed in full gear and pressed the side of his helmet, watching the data he'd collected appear in front of him. He waits, and waits, and soon…

 

Thraxa Planet Located

 

Mark leaves the room in silence, his mouth pressed in a flat line as he walks through the building until he arrives at the welcoming center. He doesn't acknowledge the woman at the front as he walks past, nor the workers and visitors as he steps foot outside and looks towards the sky. He begins to float up when a voice from behind stops him.

 

“Where are you going?” Rex rushed after him, his bruised face looking at Mark with concern. They haven't seen each other since yesterday, as Mark felt too guilty to look at him or the others after what happened with Amanda and Rae. With a small sigh, the newer hero turns and settles on the ground.

 

“I'm leaving.” Mark’s voice shakes. “I'm going to Thraxa.”

 

Rex blinks in disbelief. “What? Now? A– Are you serious?! We just got our asses kicked yesterday, and two of our friends are in critical condition!”

 

“I know.” Mark's hands clenched. “But I trust Cecil and the GDA to take care of them. I have to go.”

 

“Are you even able to go anywhere?”

 

“I'm standing here, aren't I?”

 

Rex’s nose wrinkles, his eyes filling with fury. “You can't just go, man! You don't even know if you'll make it there or if it's even–”

 

“I'm aware of the risks.” Mark spits, stepping forward. “That’s not going to stop me. The fight yesterday made me realize things about myself and the conditions of other people.”

 

The paler man removes his helmet so he and Rex are seeing eye to eye.

 

“Machine Head hurt a lot of people. They were in danger everyday of their lives, with no one bothering to help them. Criminals were hired to hurt them, and I… I did stop him, but that came with the cost of you guys getting hurt.”

 

“We chose to come.”

 

“It still happened.” Mark thinks back to the limp bodies of Rae and Amanda and shudders. “You were hurt, all of you. And it made me realize… even if it's not Him, it's still a Viltrumite on that planet. The people there are probably hurting, too. No one wants to enter a planet where a Viltrumite resides, and the only living things affected by it are the ones who live there. So… I'm going. Tell Cecil I'll be back within two weeks.”

 

The dark redhead looks away. “You don't know if it'll be two weeks.”

 

Mark’s face withers, unable to keep a steady face. “He killed my mom, Rex.”

 

Rex’s expression falls, exhibiting the rare sight of his hidden empathy that he hides too well behind his jerk facade, though he chooses to stay silent this time. The half-human could almost hear the other man's heartbeat rapidly speed up in his own chest, but decides to ignore it just this once. Mark hurriedly steps away and places the protective gear back on.

 

“Everyone is going to be pissed about this.” Rex says, crossing his arms. “Me included.”

 

“I know. Uh, if you see William, just tell him I went on a really long business trip.” Mark hovers above the other hero. “And tell Eve I'm sorry I can't make that movie trip.”

 

Rex silently looks away. With a deep breath, Mark turns and crashes into the sky, disappearing into the atmosphere in seconds and finally meeting the starry void that held the Earth.

 

Rex only looks up when his friend is gone. He sighs, squeezing his arms tighter in the hold, his eyes suddenly glossy with tears.

 

“Fuck.”

 

____

 

“Sir… Mark has departed from Earth.”

 

Cecil doesn't turn when Donald’s voice informs him of the now missing hero. He blankly stares at the piece of paperwork in his hands, his grip slightly tightening.

 

“That means he left for Thraxa.” The old director sighs, resting his elbow on the chair rest as his shaky hand pinches the bridge of his nose. “How long ago did he leave?”

 

“Just now.” Donald creaks, his voice just as shaky. “It's undetermined when he'll return, but we estimated it's a six-day trip from and to Thraxa based on the coordinates collected by Mark.”

 

Cecil curses under his breath. “I see.”

 

He thinks for a moment. Cecil wasn't stupid; he knew eventually Mark would run off on his own and either disappoint himself or find out how difficult and stupid it is to charge headfirst into something with no plan whatsoever. He thought he'd learn by now, but he was as stubborn as ever.

 

“Keep an eye out for him in the meantime.” Cecil orders, staring ahead. “Unfortunately, there's not much we can do at this point. With his insignificant speed, there's no doubt he's passed Mars by now.”

 

Donald was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”

 

“Well,” He finally spins his chair around, facing Donald, “we'll treat this like any other training assignment.”

 

The younger agent seemed a little surprised by that. “A training assignment?”

 

“Remember what I told you all those years ago, Donald?” The old director clears his throat, looking away. “Our main goal is to be sure the kid has his heart in the right place.”

 

“Sir–”

 

“Donald.” Cecil's voice is sharp, determined, yet it wavered with a silk of uncertainty. “The kid will prove himself to us when he returns. I trust Mark, but he doesn't trust himself. The only way we'll know for sure where he lies in his faiths is if he faces his biggest challenge yet.”

 

Donald drops his head, not daring to question the old man's logic. “I see. Then, we will keep you updated on the matter.”

 

“Thank you. Now, check up on the team.” Cecil waves him off, watching as the agent leaves in silence.

 

Once the door is closed, Cecil balls his fist and harshly slams it on the well-timed desk.

 

“Damn it, Mark.” He hisses, eye twitching.

Notes:

Aaaaaannnndddddd the plot thickens, way to go Mark

Few things I wanna say rq:
~Sorry if the fight scene seemed weird and/or rushed, turns out writing fight scenes back to back wack your brain around a little especially when you have to turn up the creativity that is not using the same fighting moves as the last one 😆
~Ngl it kinda amazes me Titan isn't in a lot of fics tbh (that I know of). Lowkey, even if he's not in the show as much, he's one of my favorite supporting antagonist and definitely deserves more screentime! Ngl, I think he definitely kick-started Mark's need and want to help more people in a bit more unfamiliar territory, and I wished people talked about it more! He's such a cool character
~With that being said, Machine Head is also fucking hilarious. I hated him at first... But his autotune voice won me over. He's also surprisingly really fun to write (ex. Gestures, words, etc), even if he's only in this chapter for... Five seconds lol
~I know Mark is being stubborn here, yes I'm frustrated, yes we're all frustrated /silly. But he's always been a bit of a hard head in every universe, this one is unfortunately not any different 😆 writing Rex as the voice of reason is funny as hell, buuuuuutttttt I promise we'll explore that eventually! He's still Rex, but assholes have feelings too ❤️
~Ngl Teen Team/"partnering heroes" is fun to write, and I like writing them in different chapters where they come in and help Mark like in the og timeline, which makes me sad we don't see them interact as much. That includes Black Samson tbh, I think he was a good mentor figure for some of them in the first season, but I don't know how to include him in this fic 💔 still brainstorming I swear. But we got Rae, Amanda, and now Zandale's back! So many dynamics to explore... Once Mark is out of his own ass

Sorry for the long end note! Sometimes I like to explain my thoughts on long detail for no reason <3 also to the person who draws fanart of my fic on TikTok, yes your ballz was correct, an update has arrived. I enjoy your videos, please keep making them 💋

Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen

Summary:

Ten years later, Cecil was almost proven right. Almost.

Notes:

🍷 we back at it again readers, except this time... We get an inside look at our favorite bald man of the year! Fun fact: earlier Cecil was trending on Twitter (at least for me) and I found it ironic that the next chapter was for him and I saw it lmfao, he works his way through everything lol

Anyway, please enjoy the chapter! :)

A day. It only took a day for Cecil to face a potential threat that could demolish Earth if he didn't choose his next actions carefully.

 

The new director steps off the helicopter and lands his new, polished shoes on the coarse, empty beach. Well, as empty as it could get with the new giant corpse lying on the sand. The Kaiju was a new thing in the area, apparently, and it's been chasing off boats and people for the past couple of days. Immortal was supposed to take care of it, or War Woman, or even Aquarus, but more important matters kept popping into the mix. At least the new guy on Earth took care of it as soon as he entered the atmosphere.

 

And what else does a government director do better than welcoming the new man on the job?

 

The man in white turns when the younger man starts heading towards him, pockets stuffed with his aging hands. “Who are you?” The stranger in the Kaiju's blood questions, a spill of bitterness and demands swimming in his grouchy voice.

 

“Cecil Stedman.” He answers, unfazed as he continues through the dead creature's split corpse. “Director of the Global Defense Agency.”

 

Cecil takes a look at the beaten body; the new guy really did a number on this thing. “We run a team of superheroes to protect our planet from whatever dangers might arise. You don't look like you're from around here.”

 

The stranger's face is unmoved, but he quietly holds a glare at the younger man, a sense of suspicion that Cecil nearly wanted to humor if it weren't for the fact this guy could probably snap him in half if he said the wrong thing.

 

“I’m from the planet Viltrum. My government sent me here to help protect the people of your world.” He says with confidence, his eyes darkening. Cecil licks his lips, stopping directly in front of the strange man that came from the orange skies.

 

“Huh? They did, didn't they?” Cecil lightly scoffs, extending out his right hand. “What's your name?”

 

The man’s touch twitches, leering at the limb outstretched to him. He looks back at the younger man in front of him.

 

“Nolan.”

 

Nolan. What an interesting name.

 

Back at the base, Cecil watches the footage of his previous meetup with Nolan. His new partner beside him explained the data of the strange man, his brows in a slight worried frow.

 

“Pupils dilated, heart rate elevated, he's an alien, so we don't know his norms.” The calm voice of Donald ran around the room, the only person worth his time and management. “But if he were a human, he'd be lying.”

 

“Yeah, no shit.” Cecil scoffs, thinking. A strange man on a foreign planet, unknown norms that could affect the world’s future. “All that crap he said about the world betterment committee– talk about a fairy tale– you don't get something for nothing in this universe.”

 

“What do we do, sir?” Donald’s brows knit, worry plastered on his smooth face. Cecil rubs his chin, his scar moving with the rough skin that stuck to him.

 

“He says he wants to help,” the new director comments, “so, we'll let him help for now.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Barely. “You saw how strong he is.” He gestures towards the footage. “As long as he saves lives, I don't give a damn about his motivations, but track his movements, sort a file, and get the eggheads working on countermeasures.”

 

Cecil turns and begins to walk away, barely hiding away his own doubt. “We'll figure out why he's really here.”

 

As soon as Cecil walks out, his facade falls. His pale hand facepalms the middle of his forehead as a tired, annoyed hiss trails out between his teeth. First day in the business, and everything was already going to shit. Radcliffe trusted him of all people to lead an organization that needed the proper leadership to keep the world safe, but he knew the ropes even before the torch was passed to him. In a way, it was hilarious, horrible irony.

 

The new director strolls back to his office and sits down, harshly placing his elbows on the hard surface of the desk and doubling over, his eyes tightly shut. He'll be fine; he'll stay in contact with the Guardians and keep this guy in their grasp. At least, the best way they could. The strange man– Nolan– was no doubt the most interesting part of this whole ordeal.

 

____

 

It's been three years since Nolan's arrival on Earth. So far, he's as good as the Guardians of the Globes combined. He's saved more lives than they can keep track of, which even Cecil was impressed by. Even so, his norms were still questionable among the race he was still entirely unfamiliar with.

 

Cecil quietly sits and observes from the corner of the room, taking a small sip of his wine as Nolan and Immortal engage in conversation across from where he resides. Nolan, still getting used to the norms on Earth, kept his hard gaze focused on the other man, while the well-known Guardian smoothly spoke to his so-called friend; Cecil wasn't at all convinced if the bond between them was genuine or another lie the Earth hero had managed to cover up with. At least they kept things smooth in the noisy, decorative room.

 

A holiday party Cecil was forced to hold every year. Apparently, it was a known tradition from Radcliffe and the directors before him to throw one annually so everyone that worked with them still liked their job and didn't think about putting in their two-week notice. He found it pointless, as he never attended any even before he became a director, but Donald was the one who encouraged it, so it's the best he can do for now to keep things steady.

 

“Cecil, are you sure you don't want to engage with anyone?” Donald questions, leaning down slightly at the man in the chair. “I think some socializing could–”

 

“You're not my fucking mother, Donald. Enjoy the party; I'll be here if I’m needed.”

 

Donald obeys, walking away from the grouchy director. Cecil isn't the type for parties, preferring to do anything else to spend his “days off.” It was something he had grown used to since he was thirty years old; he had no more family, his only source of comfort being liquor in a cabinet and old seventies music filling up whatever room he was in. He thought about sneaking away for some time and doing just that, but then it'd just be awkward and rude, and he would rather deal with the questionings over that another time.

 

A soft moan of pain from the right of him punctured his thoughts. Cecil looks up to see a familiar woman coming his way, holding her round stomach with one hand while the other reaches out for the chair not too far from Cecil. He stays silent, cautiously reaching over and pulling out the seat for her. She smiles and sits, sighing tiredly as her hands gently place themselves over the pregnant belly. He doesn't look at her for some time, mostly trying to keep to himself rather than start a conversation this time around. Unfortunately, she had different ideas on how she was going to spend the evening.

 

“Shying away again, Cecil?” She smirks, arching a brow. The director sighs in his cup, eyes narrowed but not unkind as he turns his attention to the woman he's known for quite some time.

 

“Long day, that's all.” Cecil shrugs. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, Debbie.”

 

Debbie copies his shrug, her little smirk never wavering. “I was, but this little kicker inside me didn't like the conversation I was having with Olga, apparently.”

 

Cecil gradually looks down at the round belly, seeing Debbie’s hands protectively over the bump of her green shirt. He heard about the pregnancy a while ago, a passing note from War Woman when she mentioned Nolan during a meeting. He was a little surprised when he heard the news, as he didn't think Nolan would be the type to start a family given his tough-guy personality. He's saved kids before, but he thought it would be the same scenario for most heroes around– too busy saving the world to think about having a family to take care of. At least Green Ghost erased that theory for a little while.

 

“Maybe it wants to go home.” Cecil guesses, leaning back. Debbie looks at him, almost offended, but at least it was a little playful.

 

“My baby isn't an it, Cecil.” The black-haired woman pouts. “We have come to find out we are having a boy.”

 

“Oh.” He says nonchalantly. “A boy, huh? What are you naming it?”

 

“Cecil!”

 

“Naming him.”

 

In all honesty, it was a mistake on his part. He's just used to saying “it” about certain things, and apparently, an alien baby is one of them.

 

Debbie presses her lips together, leaning her cheek on the palm of her hand. “We haven't really decided; we're still picking and choosing.”

 

“Parenthood sounds great.” Cecil says, a bit sarcastically. “Especially with an alien baby.”

 

“Nolan hardly looks like an alien.” She scoffs, a little amused. “And my baby boy is perfectly fine, thank you.”

 

Cecil opens and closes his mouth. He definitely had a few questions circling in his head, but he didn't know exactly how to phrase them without seeming weird or making a scene. It's not everyday an extraterrestrial being has a kid with a human woman and doesn't expect any casualties to come with it. He clears his throat instead and nods, disappointed to see he had dried up his entire drink already.

 

“I'm happy for you two.” Cecil dryly says. He meant it, but he wasn't sure how to express it to Debbie when he didn't know her that well. “You two are a lucky bunch.”

 

“You’re being weirdly kind.” Debbie jokes. “Had too much to drink?”

 

“You know it.”

 

At least she was a fun person to talk to.

 

“Debbie?” Nolan walks over a moment later, gently smiling at the shorter woman. “Is our little conqueror giving you trouble?”

 

Debbie giggles. “He's doing just fine, and why do you keep calling him that? Afraid he's going to conquer your side of the bed?”

 

Nolan scoffs playfully, helping his wife stand. Cecil narrows his eyes at the taller being, furrowing his whitening brows a little. The foreign hero looks at Cecil and does the same, sensing something from the director.

 

“Having a good time?” Cecil questions with a bitter tone wrapped in the middle.

 

Nolan carefully nods. “Indeed. It's nice having conversations with familiar faces.”

 

“I see that.”

 

Nolan didn't say anything else as he wrapped a muscular arm across Debbie's shoulders and hurried off, heading in the direction of War Woman and Connie, her new “work buddy.” His lips arch in a frown, thinking for a second, then he stands and makes his way over to Donald. When the agent’s gaze lands on his boss, Cecil gestures for him to follow, and Donald obeys without question. He gives Darkwing a quick apology, then he hurries after Cecil, head held high as they exit the crowded room.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Wait until we're completely out of earshot.”

 

They walked for some time until they were on the other side of the building. The GDA director presses the elevator button and watches as it closes swiftly, descending down into the deeper parts of the agency that most heroes didn't even know existed.

 

“Donald, how risky would you say we are?” He questions his right-hand man, looking down at the high-tech material that hid away from the rest of the world. Donald gives him a look, questioning his authority for a moment, then clears his throat and corrects his face.

 

“We always approach with caution.” Donald answers smoothly, adjusting the sunglasses he always wore on his face. “We only take risks if absolutely necessary. Too many can cause too many lives to be lost.”

 

Cecil nods as the elevator opens, stepping out. “Well, good thing what we're doing is more than necessary.”

 

The younger agent whips his head to stare at his boss in shock, mouth slightly agape. “Sir? What are you–”

 

“A gut feeling.” He answers with little patience. “We've known from the beginning that Omni-Man has been lying about his so-called hero complex mission, but shit hasn't felt right in months, and the people he saved aren't becoming enough to turn a blind eye to it anymore.”

 

They walk into another room full of gadgets and materials that were left untouched for the big boys to handle, but Cecil could care less about the importance of that at the moment. All the workers inside froze when they saw the director standing in the doorway, hands on his hips as blue eyes glared down at the material they kept away.

 

“Suit up the Grayson house.” Cecil demands, scar moving with his mouth. “We're keeping them under surveillance until further notice.”

 

No warning, too much planning. Cecil knew the consequences of being caught eyeing a small family by the world's strongest hero, especially if that family was his, but something felt wrong, and he couldn't ignore it anymore. He signals with his hands for everyone to get up and start moving, wasting no more time lingering in thoughts and only doing the action at hand.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Donald,” Cecil turns to the agent, “it's only temporary until Omni-Man proves himself as trustworthy, which he hasn't. If I'm proven wrong, everything we put in that house will be removed, and I'll retire.”

 

“Seems a bit extreme.”

 

“Yeah, well, I'm trying to make sure we protect the damn planet like we're supposed to, Donald.”

 

The blonde man turns away, keeping his eyes away from everyone else.

 

Even if it means risking my own life.

 

____

 

Ten years later, Cecil was almost proven right. Almost.

 

Cecil reads another news article of an aggressive battle between Omni-Man and Master Liu, one of the crime lords that haunted the streets of anything he touched. Apparently, according to witnesses, Omni-Man has been far more aggressive in his fights than he ever has before. He's even snapped at bystanders that watch the scene and flies off without any further comments. It wasn't the first time he's flown off without talking to the press, but he's made it abundantly clear he doesn't want to be bothered after an unexpected fight. Normally, anyone would expect that, but not from the friendly neighborhood hero that’s protected the Earth for over thirteen years.

 

“His anger charts have gone through the roof.” Cecil throws the piece of paper down on the silver table and sighs, crossing his arms. “People are starting to notice his behavior.”

 

“He’s always been a mean fighter, anyway.” Brit picks up the newspaper and opens it, whistling at the long paragraphs describing the attack from earlier that morning. “Damn, it says here he broke the fucker’s jaw and caused, and I quote, a waterfall of blood that filled the streets for up to an hour.”

 

“Might be a load of crap.” Cecil shakes his head. “He's not that messy when he's fighting in a city.”

 

“You read it yourself.” Brit lightly hits the paper, tired eyes scanning through the words. “He seemed like a mean motherfucker through it all.”

 

Cecil scoffs, picking up his coffee mug. “He’s never been an easy fighter; people are only now realizing that because he's been hostile for the past two days.”

 

“Wonder why.” Brit bites into his sandwich. “If anything, I’d say he was better at keeping his temperament under control than Immortal was.”

 

“Now that's just–”

 

The door to the break room swings open, and in comes Donald, breathing heavily as the reflection of his glasses falls on Cecil. The director stands immediately, hands flat on the table as his heart suddenly picks up speed.

 

“Sir, we have a commotion.” Donald heaves, sweat dripping down his face. “It's the Grayson house.”

 

Cecil and Brit exchange quick glances before they abandon everything in the old break room and follow Donald into the security base. The young agent was mumbling words and phrases that Cecil couldn't understand or pick up, while Brit was asking questions from behind the director, trying to get a clear answer out of Cecil's right-hand man.

 

They enter the large computer-based room, panicked murmurs filling up the usually quiet room as footage from the Grayson household is shown on the wide screen. In the footage stood Omni-Man, Debbie, and their ten year old son hiding behind his horrified mother, eyes wide as he stared up at the suddenly angry man. Cecil walks to the front, cursing under his breath as he watches everything unfold on the screen.

 

“Give it to me, Donald.” Cecil commands, still watching.

 

“We had just come to find out their son, Markus Grayson, had inherited his father's powers.” Donald says with a shaky breath.

 

“What?!” Cecil's head snaps to Donald. “How long ago did we come across this information?!”

 

“Two days ago, but we were only made aware of it now.”

 

“God fucking damn it.” Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, if that's the case, why isn't the perfect little getaway family happy about it?”

 

Donald clenches his fists. “There seemed to be some… intensity involving Omni-Man and his wife, sir. Omni-Man has some ideologies that don't seem to coexist with Debbie’s. It's only gotten bad today.”

 

“I can fucking see that.” Cecil hisses. “How long have they been arguing?”

 

“About ten minutes. It was starting to escalate; that's when I came to you and–”

 

Cecil watches in horror as the red and white hero lifts his balled fist in the air and strikes down, bashing Debbie in the shoulder. Everyone in the room freezes as Debbie's scream breaks through the footage, falling to her knees as Mark backed away against the walls, his terrified eyes piercing his mother's now broken shoulder. Debbie cries out something to Omni-Man, only to be hit again, this time blood forming around the woman's legs as the assault continues.

 

Cecil finally snapped out of it when the scarlet color began to cover the once shiny floor. “Damn it– send a team in there immediately!”

 

The director's mind flashed between seconds; he was rushing down the hallway, joining the soldiers, and teleporting right outside the Grayson home. From the outside, it was a regular home with regular people inside, not a care or worry for the outside world. But on the inside was a gruesome scene that even Cecil doesn't know how they'll cover up once the leftover damage is stained in the quiet home.

 

He watches as soldiers wait at the door, silently giving orders among themselves, then one of them kicks the door down and yells out a demand to the attacker inside.

 

Something in Cecil's gut told him to go inside, frozen as he observed the agents troop in the home like they were going into battle they knew they wouldn’t win. He mutters something, perhaps a curse, maybe a prayer, then pushes past the remainder of the soldiers and steps inside, hands gripping the doorframe and finally taking in the reality of the situation.

 

Debbie's body lay on the wet, red floor, her limbs nearly broken off from the number of times Omni-Man had hit her with the sheer force of a madman. Her arms and spine were bending in impossible positions, making her newly fleshed corpse look like some fucked-up doll that had been tossed, turned, and left to break in a fit of rage. Her outstretched hand, now still on the floor, barely grazed the tip of her son's foot, a last attempt at trying to protect him from the beast from the stars. And the kid. The kid was screaming, tiny hands gripping his dark hair as wet tears streamed down his face, staring at the corpse of his mother.

 

Cecil moved fast; he ducked past the soldier at the front and grabbed the young boy from the scene. Honestly, he doesn't know why he reacted so quickly to getting the boy out of there, let alone in front of the man who had just murdered his own wife. Omni-Man could have easily grabbed him by the throat and crushed it in his grips without warning or care. Cecil could have ended up dead with the poor woman on the floor before the former hero went after everyone else and slaughtered them all like animals.

 

Yet, when Cecil caught a quick glimpse of the man's face, he only stared at the body of Debbie with wide, horrified eyes, his bloody hands shaking at his sides. The director didn't focus on it for too long, instantly bringing the panicked boy close to his chest and hauling out of there, trying to cover his line of sight as much as possible. He pushes past multiple agents heading inside, never bothering to look behind him as the gunfire begins ringing all around him. Droplets of rain fell on him for a brief time, until his finger finally found the device on his wrist and pressed down.

 

In a blue flash, he was back at the base, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. Donald and Brit, as well as a few other workers, stared at the director in shock as he collapsed to his knees, still holding the boy in his arms. Slowly, he pulls the young kid away and looks down, seeing the marks of blood painted on his small, chubby face. His bloodshot eyes stared past Cecil, unaware of the new place he found himself in. His fingers curled into the older man's suit, wrinkling the blue fabric.

 

“I got you.” Cecil says carefully, not even knowing if the boy could hear him. Donald rushes over, unsure what to do with the situation at hand. Cecil looks up at him, face wrinkled in urgency. “Take him, Donald. Get him cleaned up and notify the Guardians what happened.”

 

Donald looks between Cecil and the boy, shaky hands extending and picking up the frightened child. “Right away, sir.”

 

Cecil stands, Brit rushing to his side. “And… and keep him out of harm's way. Take him to the bunker until we get the situation under control.”

 

The director looks at the boy again– Debbie’s son, Mark– and sees he is staring at him. Cecil didn't realize how similar his eyes were to Debbie's until now. There was a silent plea, something hidden in those petrified eyes of his, but no words left his mouth. Instead, his bloody hands gripped Donald's shoulders, and he stuffed his tear-stained face into the crook of Donald's neck, audible muffled whimpers escaping him. A natural instinct for a child when they're scared, horrified, and all they want is comfort. Cecil takes a step back; soon he turns and begins walking down the hallway, gripping his own bloody wrist. He reaches up and feels his face, the wet liquid left over from the boy he had just rescued already drying on his wrinkling skin.

 

Brit rushes after him, marching by his side in an instant. “What the hell happened in there?”

 

“The boy’s mother, Debbie, is dead.” Cecil answers, eyes cold. “We couldn't get to her in time. I grabbed Mark before Omni-Man could.”

 

“He's going to come for him.”

 

“I know.” Cecil's hands shook. His body never shakes. “I'm getting our best heroes on the job. We hold him off for as long as we can.”

 

Cecil expected the worst to happen; Omni-Man strikes the Pentagon, the majority of the agents are left deceased, and the former hero takes his son and flies off somewhere to never be seen again. Or destroy the world with it; he's unsure what the guy's end goal was, and they couldn't even figure it out before it came to his attention that Omni-Man had left Earth.

 

“What do you mean he's just gone?” Cecil grits his teeth, locking eyes with Immortal. “No trip to the Guardian Base? No quick stop to the Pentagon? He's just…”

 

“Gone.” Immortal looks behind Cecil, eyes locked on the remaining soldiers in the back. Most were injured; others were frozen in place. The rest were abandoned to be identified at a later time. “War Woman, Martian Man, and I saw him leave ourselves. We tried to follow after, but it seems he was already out of our universe by the time we could have caught up.”

 

Cecil hisses, crossing his arms. He looked cleaner now, having washed away the blood a while ago, yet still feeling the sticky slime cling to his flesh like it was still there. If Omni-Man had left, then that couldn't be good news. He thinks back to what Nolan told him all those years ago and feels himself shudder.

 

“Keep on high alert for the next few months.” Cecil demands, looking at the floor. “He didn't leave out of regret. He'll be back, and if we're unlucky enough, he's bringing his friends with him.”

 

Cecil walks away from the older hero, feeling his own blood boil. He's happy enough there wasn't a worldwide massacre happening at the moment, but Omni-Man leaving after what he just did to his own spouse didn't sit right with him. He's analyzed his every move for the past thirteen years, keeping a close eye on him, expecting anything at any time. And when it finally happened, he ran off after the crime had been committed.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Sir?”

 

Cecil looks over his shoulder to see Donald, now in a different suit, much cleaner. “I came to find you after I was informed of Omni-Man’s departure.”

 

“...How’s the kid?” Cecil asks, turning his entire body around. “Where is he?”

 

“I took him to the lower bunkers. He's safe.” Donald swallows. “He, uh, hasn't spoken since his rescue, I'm afraid.”

 

The blonde man slowly nods. “Alright. Take me to him.”

 

Donald did as he was told, taking Cecil to the exact location they hid the child away. The entire time, Cecil was thinking of the consequences that would follow after this, the amount of damage that would paint the world when all of this is released to the public. They couldn't exactly hide the fact one of the world's greatest superheroes had just mysteriously disappeared with no trace of him left besides maybe a bloody handprint or two.

 

The older director licks his lips, trying to concentrate. “Have you run a background check on him? Any family that we need to inform?”

 

Donald looks at Cecil. “We did, for safety precautions. It seemed his only remaining family was Oliver Grayson, his maternal grandfather, but he passed away just only a year ago.”

 

Shit. “That's it?”

 

He nods. “It was just him and… his mother.”

 

They pause mid-walk when Cecil spots Mark ahead. He had stopped crying, and the blood was wiped clean off his face with new clothes as a proper starter pack, but he still had the same dull look in his eyes when Cecil took him from that wretched house. The scarred man sighs, turning his attention to the younger agent.

 

“We can't send him anywhere like this.” He says, voice stuck in a whisper. “If he has Omni-Man’s powers, then he's too dangerous to be let out in the world without our supervision.”

 

“We… We already established he cannot leave here.” Donald whispers, brows slightly knitted. “Brit already informed many doctors and scientists of the boy’s existence and his current situation. He will remain here until further notice.”

 

Cecil lifts his head higher, taking a quick glance at the boy. “So, we're his final hope?”

 

“...Seems so.”

 

Great. Cecil knew the moment Mark was orphaned that his life would only get rougher from here on out. A half-alien kid that just lost both of his parents on the same day, different circumstances. Now he's stuck in an unfamiliar area with people he's never even met, new to the world of abilities he probably never got to understand before Dad left. Even so, Cecil's gut twisted, and he took another glance at the lonely boy sitting in the chair. With a heavy groan, he turns his step around and makes his way over to the last remainder of the woman he once knew.

 

“Assign me as his primary caretaker.” Cecil gives the order without explanation. “I'll take it from here.”

 

Honestly, Cecil doesn't know why he immediately jumped the gun as Mark's guardian. He never imagined himself having kids or having to take care of someone in such a dire situation. Maybe it was pity, maybe he wanted something else from the kid, or maybe he wanted to see for himself if he was worth the trouble. He's unsure how different or the same he is compared to regular human children, and the only way to find out is to be the one who takes the risk.

 

He stops in front of the small child and speaks.

 

“Mark?”

 

____

 

“How’s the kid?”

 

“Better.”

 

Better than what he could have been. Cecil watches as Mark paces around in the security footage, kicking at the floor a few times as a familiar dark redhead spray paints the used-to-be freshly clean wall of the government base. Mark, as usual, tried to stop him but gave up as soon as the slightly older boy began to cover the wall in red, green, and yellow. He wasn’t exactly sure of the end goal, as most of the painting was out of sight, but he already knew it was something ridiculous and uncalled for.

 

“I have to hand it to you, Cecil.” Radcliffe lightly spins his glass in his hand. “Keeping a kid like him under control is mighty impressive, especially after such a traumatic event at a young age.”

 

“He’s only twelve.” Cecil scoffs, crossing his arms. “And I don’t keep him under control; he’s just aware of who’s in charge around here.”

 

It sounded harsher than he intended, but he wasn’t about to let Radcliffe get the upper hand. “Plus, he gets good benefits. Training, education, and free food. Every preteen’s Candyland dream.”

 

“Some have more extreme expectations than others.” The retired director takes a swig of his cold drink. “At least he seems to obey better. Rex is a good listener, and he’s loyal, but he has his moments.”

 

“I can tell.” The slightly younger man replies, watching as Rex motions for Mark to come look at his unwanted masterpiece. “He does things that amuse him, that’s all that it is.”

 

Silence, then–

 

“You know,” Radcliffe peeks at the live footage, catching a grin from Rex as he looks at the other boy there with him, “I notice the boy–”

 

“Mark.”

 

“… Mark, latches onto other people quickly.”

 

Cecil slightly turns his head over his shoulder, wearily peeking at the rough-looking man. “What does that mean?”

 

“How sure are you that he’s loyal to Earth?”

 

Cecil’s teeth grind against each other for a moment, knowing what kind of tactic Radcliffe was trying to force onto him. “He grew up here–”

 

“Well, yes, he was born here because of his human mother.”

 

“Of course he’s loyal to Earth–”

 

“So was his father for a time.”

 

The blonde man feels his eyes twitch. “I’ve been monitoring him for two years, Radcliffe. As of right now, he is loyal to Earth.”

 

Radcliffe pops his lips, face unmoved. “All right, then let me rephrase the question; is he loyal to Earth or to you?”

 

For once, Cecil is taken aback. Radcliffe takes another sip, looking past Cecil and at the footage in front of him.

 

“I know Rex is loyal.” He almost sings, a little too prideful. “Taking him from a poor home, giving him a life he never could imagine, but I am no fool, Cecil. He's loyal to the benefits I give him, what he can do, and most of all…”

 

He gestures back to the actions of the boys. Rex was saying to Mark while handing him the spray paint. Mark takes it with a questioning look, saying something else, while Rex seems rather dismissive of it.

 

“Young boys like them turn into men like us.” The scarred man warns. “You either become the good guy or the guy who saves the world. In their shoes, it's no different, but your boy isn't like the rest of them.”

 

“I'm aware.” The paler man turns away from his former boss. “I always thought ahead when it came to Nolan; Mark isn't any different.”

 

It was true, Cecil always needed to be a step ahead, but sometimes he felt sour when he had to do the same for Mark. Two years isn't anything to him, but to the boy, it was something he has yet to adjust to.

 

“Good.” Radcliffe stands. “We should put a stop to the mess outside. Rex’s rebellious stage can get out of control.”

 

“I noticed it since the first day he met Mark.” Cecil scoffs, turning the live footage off.

 

Today, Cecil learned a lesson when it came to Radcliffe; never let the man have the last laugh.

 

____

 

“I was only going there to check it out.”

 

“I can tell when you're lying, kid.”

 

Mark sulks in his seat, turning his head away from the older man in front of him. Cecil didn't budge at the bitter feeling; he's grown used to teenage mood swings over the last year or so.

 

“I heard it was a smaller Kaiju,” Mark says, elbow resting on the table while his knuckles held up his head from under his chin, keeping his eyes away from Cecil, “so I was going there to… see it myself.”

 

“Mhm, and what were you planning to do once you got there?” Cecil questions, crossing his arms. The teenager looks at him for a second, then away again.

 

“Watch War Woman defeat it.”

 

“You didn't even know War Woman would be there until we found you first and brought you back here.”

 

The younger boy sulked in the seat even more, his chest touching the table. “...Lucky guess.”

 

“Mark.” Cecil's tone shifted abruptly. “We don't have time for your run-offs. I told you time and time again I will send you on your own mission once you're actually ready.”

 

“I am ready!” Mark argues, whipping his head at the man who raised him. It was always the quickest way to get the half-human riled up. “I have been ready since last year!”

 

“You're fifteen, yet act like you're twelve.” Cecil frowns, brows furrowed. “Jesus, kid. At least wait until you can hold your breath for two days straight.”

 

“I probably can, anyway.” Mark grouches, his gaze sharpening. “I can do a lot more than you discovered.”

 

“Oh? Enlighten me, then.” Cecil challenges, leaning down slightly. “What else can you do?”

 

“More than you.”

 

Hormones were going to be the death of him. “Kid–”

 

“I could do stuff if you actually let me!” Mark suddenly stands, brown eyes glaring at Cecil. “I could go out right now and stop an asteroid! Or– or– or– fight the lizard league and actually put a stop to their dumb organization! But all I do is catch boulders and do a weekly science quiz that I don't even need!”

 

“Catching boulders is different than going out there and fighting a criminal or two.” Cecil reminds him, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, kid, just give yourself more time–”

 

“I don't have time!” Mark yells, slamming his palms on the table. “I need every single thing thrown at me! I need more resistance! I need–”

 

“Mark, just– Jesus Christ.”

 

Cecil doesn't flinch when the young teen rounds the table and stands face-to-face with Cecil. “I can handle it. I've almost surpassed Immortal in strength, so I know damn well what I'm capable of.”

 

“I don't have time for this.” Cecil growls. “Go clean up and get ready for dinner; you're done training for today.”

 

Mark’s glare deepens, something else dark behind his eyes.

 

“Make me.”

 

Cecil is surprised by that. He's grown used to Mark's tantrums when he's unhappy about being told what to and not to do, but he's never crossed a line where it could count as a threat. Normally, they end the night with some resentment from Mark's end, then he'd go back to his usual self the next day and everything would be fine.

 

Cecil wouldn't let tonight change anything.

 

“Does that make you feel strong?” The older man questions, crossing his arms. “Knowing you can do whatever you want and no one here can stop you?”

 

The teenager's sharp look finally falls, and he's back to his softer, kinder expression that Cecil was more familiar with. He gazes down in shame, his face stuck in a regretful manner. The balding man shakes his head and sighs.

 

“Remember when you used to come into my office and talk to me all night long? Despite all the boring paperwork I was doing?”

 

Mark slowly looks up with his eyes, his face unmoved.

 

“Yeah.” He replies.

 

“Well,” Cecil continues, “I enjoyed those talks. I enjoyed our conversations during those times. But I can't do that if you're going to keep being stubborn and running off when you're not supposed to.”

 

The young boy grabs his own arm, now standing straight so he and Cecil almost meet eyes. He wasn't taller than Cecil, not yet at least.

 

“But even then, you come to me when you need someone to talk to,” even with his rough, edgy voice, Cecil feels himself getting emotional, “and it'd just be you and I for hours. You'd come in and tell me about your day, or how well you did during a test, or just… anything really. Nowadays you don't do that, and I'm not saying you're obligated to, but you know I'm always here for you, kid, right? You don't have to pretend to be invincible all the time. It's okay to have bad days.”

 

Something shifts in Mark’s eyes, but he doesn't say much about that. He only sighs, reaching up and wiping away a tear that was forming in his eye. “I know, I'm sorry. It's just… I really do feel like I'm Earth's last hope if He ever came back and brought His dumb cult-leading Empire with Him.”

 

Cecil reaches out and gently pats the side of Mark's shoulder. “I get it, kid. He didn't leave you a lot of options, but that doesn't mean you have to face it alone.”

 

Cecil knew this wasn't going to be the last time he had this conversation with Mark. The kid was constantly on edge and felt the need to be the people’s savior without actually considering his own safety. Cecil has worked with these people plenty of times; hell, he used to be the exact same way. That's why he knew this journey was going to be nowhere easier than what everyone had hoped for.

 

Mark nods. “You're right. Sorry for the… argument.”

 

The older man chuckles. “Kid, I've been told worse. Let's just chalk this up to a bad day, and you got a little hasty, alright?”

 

Mark nods again.

 

“Now, this time, go clean up. It's taco night, remember?”

 

Mark perks up with that, and he speeds off, disappearing out of the office. The white-haired man leisurely leans back, covering his mouth with his hand as he thinks. He knew he couldn't keep Mark on the ground forever, but he didn't need him speeding off into danger everytime he heard about a potential threat. The old man sighs and leans back in his chair, rubbing his face lightly.

 

“Rough day on the job?” He hears Donald joke, stepping into the office. “I heard Mark made a show for himself.”

 

“Sure did.” Cecil doesn't move from his position. “Ran off in an attempt to fight a Kaiju without actually knowing where it was. Had to send out the air squad to retrieve him.”

 

“He sounds like you sometimes.” Donald comments, his voice catching on his throat once he realizes what he said. “Uh, the old you, of course.”

 

“I get it.” He finally looks at his work partner. “I thought about that too. Still waiting for him to get over it so I can take him more seriously.”

 

“He most likely thinks acting out is going to get him that accomplishment one way or another.” Donald chuckles. Cecil half-shrugs, resting his arms on the desk.

 

“Enough of that. What's today's report, Donald?”

 

“Right. There was an incident in Midnight City that Darkwing and–”

 

Cecil listened, but his thoughts only lingered around Mark and his hero complex. He knows it's only going to get worse from here, and only God knows how he'll be once Cecil actually sends him out to fight crime like the hero he wants to be. He won't disappoint Mark like that; once the kid is ready, the director will see where his heart lies, and he'll know for sure if the kid is their last hope or their greatest enemy. He can’t find himself believing the latter will ever happen, fortunately. Because he knows Mark too well, and that was nearly enough to wash away the worries he used to burden himself with every single night since that tragic day.

 

Yet, he only allows himself to be disappointed when he refuses to scratch that possibility off his list.

 

____

 

“The boy should have stayed on Earth! He's grown too stubborn to think logically, like a child!”

 

“He's like us, Immortal! A young man with powers and will is bound to break the ice on his own!”

 

Cecil sits silently as the Guardians argue around the wide table. Immortal and War Woman have been clawing at each other's throats for several minutes, with Martian Man and Green Ghost being the main pacifiers in the room, attempting to break the tension between the two ancient heroes.

 

“It's a complicated situation.” Darkwing clicks in, his head low and arms crossed over his chest. “But it's something that doesn't surprise me. You've seen the reports; Invincible has outdone himself the last month and a half. No surprise the hero complex went into his head.”

 

“I can attest!” Aquarus lifts his head, proudly presenting himself to the table. “The boy took down our Depth Dweller with no problem! War Woman said he made her bleed! He's thinking like a hero, not a boy!”

 

“It's dangerous.” Immortal growls, clenching his fists. “We could be attacked tomorrow, and he goes and plays hero on some alien planet–”

 

“His mother was killed.” Red Rush grits his teeth, copying Immortal's stance. “Debbie was a good friend of Olga and me; please, Mark has been through so much–”

 

“That's the problem.” Darkwing interrupts. “He’s thinking with his feelings, not with his head.”

 

“W– We’ve been through this before, guys.” Green Ghost mentions, stressfully hunched over the table. “It’s not like there's nothing we can't do because he's not here. You guys have been protecting the planet longer than I’ve been alive… for, uh, some of you.”

 

“This is true,” Martian Man cuts in, “but we were always supposed to monitor the boy because he is unique, more than I. His abilities have increased, and now that he's gone, who knows what else he can accomplish or demolish without our guide?”

 

“The last thing I want to hear right now is criticism.”

 

All seven Guardians fall silent when Cecil finally speaks. His gaze is hardened, a mixture of anger and wanting acceptance. He groans, clenching his fists as his eyes look past everyone else in the room and towards the darkening sky.

 

“We’re all upset.” He huffs, his tone plagued with worry. “Hell, I've been upset ever since he brought up that damn planet. But I knew eventually he would go and run off.”

 

He's known Mark for years, watched him grow from a boy to an avenger. No matter what he's told him, Mark's head would be filled with one thing and one thing only: finding Omni-Man.

 

“My request wasn’t to start a damn argument,” he glares at everyone across, especially the space between Immortal and War Woman, “it was to keep doing your jobs and watch out for any signs of Mark.”

 

Even with the coordinates, he couldn't risk sending one of the Guardians out into space for a long period of time. Mark was no doubt in another galaxy at this point, and Immortal wasn't exactly the space type if he could help it. Same with War Woman, too familiar with the ground than the stars above.

 

“So, we wait for the baby bird to return to the nest.” Darkwing leans back in his seat, glancing over at Immortal. “You would be familiar with that, given the time you came from.”

 

Immortal grimaces but ignores the remark from his teammate. “I trust your judgment, Cecil, but the boy keeps getting off the rails. We’ve seen this since his teen years–”

 

“I know.” Cecil interrupts. “But just like any person in this world, he’s going to learn and grow on his own terms. All we can do is steer him in the right path.”

 

“Once he’s back, that is.” Green Ghost mumbles.

 

All seven Guardians look at each other in silence. War Woman and Immortal still gave each other the stink eye, but didn’t bother to continue the fight. Aquarus, Martian Man, and Green Ghost sat in silence, while Darkwing and Red Rush were surprisingly whispering among themselves, both taking glances at the old director at the front of the table.

 

With a final swallow, Cecil gives his last word.

 

“Whatever happens is going to take a toll on him, no matter what. I have a feeling he won't be the same after he returns to Earth.”

Notes:

A single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops 💔💔

Anywho!! Thoughts on the chapter;
~Tbh I have zero idea if Cecil and Debbie knew each other before Nolan killed the Guardians in the show, but here I just made it that they did for dramatic purposes sooooooo
~Also another tbh moment, I didn't know too much about Radcliffe until a little while ago (like, around chapter two release lol), I managed to get my hands on Rex's little backstory in full detail and I never actually realized how much of a bastard he was 😭 soooooooo that was fun to toss around in the story, your writer is a dumbass /j
~NOW TO THE IMPORTANT PART... Cecil was lowkey hard to write in this chapter because I was trying to find a balance between "Mark grew on him that's his son" and "it's Cecil at the end of the day and he'll always save the world" but ngl I think I'm pretty happy with the outcome: a dude who does love his adopted son but knows he always has to keep an eye out for anything and everything. It's his job and his legacy, and he trusts Mark, but he has a backup for everything. It was fun to dive into his mind a little bit and see his thoughts on everything from before Mark was born to now. Also, my explanation for his dramatic measures is that he locked in. That's it. That's the plot good night everyone /j

Next chapter... Oh boy, pray for me y'all. Pray for me...

Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen

Summary:

“But that doesn't make anything better. I don't feel better. He was here, and now He's not, and I traveled all the way here for basically nothing.”

Notes:

OOOOHHHHH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDSN I did it but it cost me my sanity I'm not even joking

Despite the thousand of words I had thrown into this chapter, I'm actually quite proud of it, but I'll explain more in the end notes :) enjoy!

Mark lost count days ago. The only thing left on his mind was the leftover mush that were his thoughts.

 

He feels himself grow hungry, yet he passed all planets he came across to travel to the one he was desperate for. He was tired, his body screaming for rest, yet he pushed those needs down and forced himself more into the collection of dots around him. His eyes have seen wonders, more than humankind will ever see. A part of him wishes he could share these beautiful discoveries, but describing them felt impossible; how does one describe something like this? The half-human couldn't do anything even if he wanted to.

 

All but float in space and hope he would find the planet one way or another.

 

His eyes grow heavier everyday. How much time had passed? Have six days passed? Was he going the right way? So many questions he barbed himself in, but his mind couldn't find the decency to care enough. He trusted the information given to him, but lately it didn't feel like enough. Traveling for so long in the dark void of nothing has shifted his reality, and he begins to wonder about everything from back on Earth to here. Planets he's never seen before reminded him of the infinite discoveries humans could find, yet will never come close to, just as Mark has today.

 

Today. Today. Today.

 

He's arriving in Thraxa today.

 

Mark forces himself to keep his eyes open and see the bright planet ahead. His headgear beeped something at him, maybe notifying him he finally arrived at his destination, but he couldn't bring himself to hear it. He couldn't hear anything. Space was empty in many ways.

 

Everything else became a blur. His body enters the atmosphere at grossing speed, his body screaming for him to stop and turn back, or at least slow down. He feels his body descend towards a city of rings and hoops. His eye focuses on a castle– he thinks it's a castle– and slowly floats towards it. Many figures, all shades of blue, approach Mark when he grows closer to the ground. Words attempt to leave his dry lips, but nothing ever comes.

 

When the young man finally lands, his feet are sore, despite having flown in space for days. Bug-like citizens cautiously approached him, whispering among themselves as they looked at the black and green figure.

 

“Whe…” Mark wheezes, his chest suddenly tight. “I nee… where… Omn…”

 

Mark takes a step forward, seeing someone exit from the palace and make their way towards the tired man.

 

“Nol–”

 

Mark falls, and everything washes in black.

 

____

 

A sunny day in the middle of winter. Something no one hears of often. He hears a groggy voice complain behind him about the absurd weather change, saying something along the lines of, this isn’t Florida, why are we getting Florida weather? Then, a gentle voice reassured that the state will be covered in snow soon, and everything will be fine. Mark likes the snow, but sunny days are okay too.

 

He reaches up and covers the sun with his tiny hand, his eyes squinting at the giant beam of light above. He hears a chuckle, a familiar presence comforting him in small silence as she crouches down beside the small boy and copies his movement. An act of playfulness, something Mark recognizes. He smiles, a soft giggle escaping his lips. He bounces on his feet a little, and she copies him again.

 

How young is he here? He's gotten better at differentiating between reality and dreams, and this was no reality. No, not anymore. Even so, he allows himself to drown in the warm feeling for a while, even if he regrets it when he eventually wakes up. The gentle laugh arose from beside him, and slowly, he turned and looked at the woman he had lost long ago.

 

She's laughing, all of her teeth showing in one singular smile. He takes a deep breath, the warm feeling on his face gone and replaced with regret. He reaches forward and attempts to touch her, but suddenly she is further back. She's still laughing.

 

Why are my eyes and heart and soul so heavy?

 

He tries again, and she stands. Her smile was still bright, yet her eyes were filled with hurt. Did he do something wrong? He feels his legs wobbling.

 

I keep trying to embrace you; why won't you let me?

 

She's further. Why is she running away from him?

 

So much has changed, but I'm the same. Please, I'm the same.

 

He wasn't the same, but he wanted to convince himself he was. The same little boy whose only worry was not getting the latest Seance Dog collectible they released in stores. The same little boy who still had his mom, and everything was okay in the world.

 

Yesterday's lie.

 

A lie. He was back in the house. He was back at the scene. Blood was everywhere.

 

Yesterday was a lie.

 

Even the good memories are starting to become the bad ones.

 

____

 

Mark’s consciousness is finally lifting him back to the present when, even in his fragile state, he feels something gentle lift his head and liquid pour down his dry throat. It's different, not the same as the drinks from Earth, but it’s sweet, warm, and flavorful. He coughs when it trickles down his throat, almost regretting the drink, but whoever was holding him helped him swallow, and the air in his throat returned.

 

Hesitantly, his eyes fight to unbar from his sickening state, a blinding light being the first thing his sensitive eyes see. He groans, moving his head, and he hears a murmur beside him. Another set of hands grabs him from below and carefully moves him, his body settled in a more comfortable position on a soft surface he didn't recognize. His eyes felt even heavier, but Mark forced himself to finally open them, properly this time. In front of him are bug-like people, the ones he saw before he fell unconscious. They were close, too close, and he opened his mouth to question or perhaps tell them to back away, but only a pathetic, dry squeak rumbled from his dry windpipe.

 

They're talking now. Mark takes this opportunity to look around and sees they're not the only ones neighboring this place. There are multiple of these unknown creatures, all inside one room. For a moment, when his eyes land on one of them, he doesn't see the blue hardshells of an alien, but instead the figure of Cecil. The old director was standing off to the side, reading from a report, his eyes focused entirely on what was given to him. He wasn’t looking at Mark, but he was there for him, a familiar stance he carries out when Mark is injured or needs assurance over something. When Mark blinks, he's gone, replaced by an older-looking bug.

 

The man in a strange place moves to the other side and this time sees Rex standing not too far from him, as well as Eve, Robot, Rae, and a few other blurry faces surrounding them. Mark reaches his hand out in an attempt to feel them, a sudden hope that they’re real and here with him, but he knows that’s impossible. Instead, a hand tenderly grabs his, and when Mark looks at the source, he sees his mother.

 

Mark chokes as he finally speaks through his strained voice. “Mom?” Tears prick his eyes, blinking them away. She was still there, lovingly smiling at him. He wished he could smile back.

 

A soft chuckle honies his ears, and when Mark blinks again, his mother isn't there anymore. Instead, another one of those aliens is clouding his vision, but the way she smiled reminded him of a mother.

 

“No, no, I’m not her. I'm sorry.” She says, ever so kindly, caressing his bare hand. “I only care for you like a mother would.”

 

He tries to sit, but his body screams from the days of traveling, and he only falls back, brows furrowing. She reaches over and gently pets his hair, giving an order to one of the workers nearby. The pale man keeps moving his head away from the light, still trying to get used to the beam, his eyes trying to take a shard of everything else surrounding him. In the corner of his vision, a set of colors catches his eye. A figure is approaching him, tall and fierce and bigger than everyone else that resided in the room. His brown eyes fall over darkness for a second, only reopening when someone grabs his arm.

 

Baby blue eyes stare down at him, a familiar structure of a man that Mark only sees in his dreams full of blood. The red glove lifts Mark's head, close enough to where he can make out the whiteness of the suit, patches of it still battered in the dark red liquid. Mark's eyes shot open, and his vision blurred for a second– time too fast to tell. He was standing now, his body kicked into fight or flight, hand clenched harshly around the skinny neck in his grasp.

 

… Skinny.

 

His vision slowly swirls; slowly, Mark realizes he is staring at another caretaker, who was gasping for air as his red, round eyes worryingly locked onto the half-human. Mark quickly lets go and backs away, grabbing the side of his pounding head.

 

“Sor… sorry.” He mutters, nearly in pain. “I thought you were… someone else.”

 

The citizen coughs, now doubled over on their bendy knees. Mark takes a step back and looks left and right, finally taking in the space where he rested.

 

It seemed to be a bedroom of sorts. Comfortable, swirling colors, soft furniture, and seemingly multiple medical supplies lying around the bed where Mark had been assigned. Many of the bug-like folks stared at the paranoid man in surprise, stilling in their spots. Only one of them– the one who spoke to him– stepped forward, her demeanor kind as her head lightly bowed to Mark.

 

“It's okay, you are safe.”

 

They all looked similar from what Mark's foggy mind could grasp, but among them, she stuck out the most. The insectoid was blue and short, Mark at least a foot taller than her. Long, spine-like spikes stick out from her arms to her shoulders. Her eyes, like the rest, were round and red. She wore a purple, black, and golden outfit that reminded Mark of royalty. A noticeable characteristic for Mark, however, was the small pincers resting from the side of her mouth. She looked almost like a mantis back home, but she probably didn't even know what that was.

 

She hums quietly, reaching out a two-fingered hand. Mark stares at it, his bloodshot eyes darting between her and the exit. He feels the inside of him scream that he wasn't in danger, he's fine, yet it felt like a lie hidden as the truth. Despite his feelings, he reluctantly extends his arm out and slowly takes her hand. She smiles, the antenna on her head bouncing with her movements.

 

“I'm… who are you?” Mark asks, his voice raspy. A servant, as that's what Mark is assuming they are, creeps forward and holds up a cup of green juice. He tries not to make a face, as he's unsure what he's looking at, but the shorter bug woman smiles and takes the drink from the other one, holding it up to the paler man.

 

“You may call me Andressa. I am the Empress of Thraxa.” The alien says as Mark takes the cup, staring down at his ragged reflection in the liquid. He looked more exhausted than he’s ever been in his life, but overall still the same.

 

“How long was I out?”

 

“Only a day, dear.”

 

The way she spoke stirred something in the man's head. “Agent Invincible. You can call me that.”

 

She hesitates, Mark notes. Andressa peeks behind her and nods to the others in the room, then the black-haired stranger watches as they all collect their things and begin to exit the room, not taking another glance at the stand-out foreigner. Mark waits until they're all gone before he attempts to speak again, but Andressa is fast enough to beat him to it.

 

“I know who you are, Mark.”

 

He freezes, his blood running cold. “What? You do?”

 

“Please, drink. I will explain everything.”

 

The insectoid takes Mark's hand and guides him over to the bed, tenderly pushing him down so he is now sitting on the warm mattress. He couldn’t help but note it was softer than his bed back home. The pale man drinks from the cup, noting the odd taste, but doesn't say much about it. With a heavy sigh, Andressa sits beside him, rough hands folded in her lap.

 

“I know you have a lot of questions, Mark.” The bug– Andressa– says so gently. Mark feels his heart pull, a noticeable twitch appearing on his face for a moment. Only for a moment. No matter the situation, he couldn’t show any vulnerability.

 

“A few.” He mutters. “Start off by telling me how you know my name.”

 

“I only know who you are,” Andressa begins, keeping her round eyes on Mark, “because Nolan used to mention you before He–”

 

Nolan.

 

Mark instantly stands, his mind quick on high alert. “Nolan. Where is he? I was told he'd be–”

 

“He is gone.”

 

Her voice cracked slightly, looking away as her antenna fell over her gaze, head hung low. “He’s been gone for some time. I'm sorry.”

 

Mark runs a hand through his black mane, suddenly feeling so many emotions wash over him at waterfall speed. “Gone. He's just gone. I came here for nothing.”

 

Six days with no sleep. Six days with no food. Six days of traveling through the empty ocean of planets and stars only to make it to his destination with little to no problems and come to find his primary target isn’t even here. Instead, he's surrounded by bugs, one of them knowing who he is, and it's a wave of emotions that he didn't realize he was experiencing until his fears were confirmed true.

 

This was nothing but a waste of time.

 

“Please,” Andressa quickly reaches over and calmly touches Mark's arm, “let me explain everything. You deserve that much.”

 

In a sense, Mark wanted to argue and head back to Earth without a second thought. Cecil was right; he would find nothing here. Even if it wasn't Nolan, another Viltrumite could have been something to prove that he wasn’t crazy for wanting to come here. Maybe more answers, maybe nothing but a violent fight, but it would have been something. Anything. He should have known he could have been disappointed, and yet–

 

Yet his legs felt tired. He was tired. Slowly, he sits back down, his expression softer but still unconvinced by the insectoid. Andressa clears her throat and continues.

 

“Nolan saved my people and I from death.” She starts, voice quiet. “It was very close, and when we all lost hope, He… He saved us. My people made Him Emperor, and things were okay.”

 

Lies.

 

“He and I fell in love and got married. Or, so I thought. He eventually told me about you and your mother. At first, He said it was an accident… but I soon found that to be a lie. Then He began to act differently; He wasn't the Nolan I knew.”

 

“Whatever man you thought you knew,” Mark's hand gripped the cup harder, “was exactly the same lie I faced. He’s known to do that, and it seems like you found out the hard way, just like I did.”

 

He was angry, bitter, tired, too many things to set down and count at a time. That man moved on, pretending he and his mother never existed on a planet full of insects. It hurts; Mark is angry. He grips his thigh; he is hurt. He looks at Andressa; he feels hurt. Why is he feeling hurt?

 

Her face remains unmoved. “Indeed I did. He left about, in your Earth time, three months ago.”

 

He blinks, only now feeling his face bare in the cold air around him. He gazes down and sees he's still in his suit, but his headgear and shoulder gadgets are gone. His surroundings are becoming more clear.

 

“He said you would come for Him.” She comments. “He never specified when He thought you would, but He always expected you to come looking for Him eventually.”

 

Mark feels the anger rise up again, fighting the urge to crush the hard cup in his threatening grip. “Sounds like He wanted me to find Him. Play these mind tricks on me–”

 

Her hand is on his knee now. “I didn't tell you any of this to anger you–”

 

“I know.” His own tone felt like venom. “But that doesn't make anything better. I don't feel better. He was here, and now He's not, and I traveled all the way here for basically nothing.”

 

He stands, placing the cup down, and speed-walking towards the colorful door on the other side of the room. “We were both tricked, great for us. I'll be taking my things and leaving.”

 

“Wait, Mark!”

 

The door opens, and Mark is met with a wide, open space of shiny walls and plants decorated all over the palace-like paradise. He saw multiple insectoids walking around, chatting among themselves, unaware of the up-and-about man that wanted nothing more than to return to Earth and forget about his stupidity for the next year and a half. With a grunt, Mark makes his way down the hall, Andressa rushing after him from behind.

 

“Mark, please–”

 

“Thank you for taking care of me, but I need to go.”

 

“You were traveling for six days; we calculated it from your world to ours. Please, just rest–”

 

“I don't need rest. There's no point in staying if that monster isn't here.”

 

His voice was rising, catching all of the other citizens’ attention.

 

“Mark, there's much more you don't know–”

 

“What else should I possibly–”

 

The sound of an infant’s cry catches his train of thought. He freezes in his steps, his head whipped in the direction of the loud sound coming from one of the rooms. Andressa shakingly inhales and pulls the taller man's arm, trying to get him to follow her.

 

“Come. Please.”

 

Mark doesn't know why he had a change of mind at that moment, but he allows Andressa to pull him along and lead him down another hallway, silent as a mouse as they walk their way towards another colorful door with unique patterns decorated outside. He feels her scaly hands let go and step forward, pressing the middle of the door and watching as it slides open swiftly, almost like the doors back at home. Mark follows her inside and watches as she walks up to a crib in a corner and–

 

“No.”

 

No. No no no no no no. Mark’s face pales as she reaches down and cradles something in her skinny arms.

 

“Mark,” Andressa slowly turns, “this is your little brother.”

 

Mark could almost feel himself faint from the reality that settled in. In her arms was a blue bundle of spines and teeth. Tiny, red irises stared back at Mark with curiosity, long yet tiny antennae twitching at the bigger man. Unlike Andressa, he had five fingers and five toes, from what he could see, and small spikes lining his arms and legs much like Andressa’s. Small pincers moved at the top of his mouth, another noticeable characteristic he shared with his mother. He looked more like Mark in appearance, a blue variant that Mark never imagined possible. His hair was the same shade of black as his, and it only left more conflicted feelings swimming away in the hero. The realization was quick to tackle him, his mind not needing to process the spoken reality.

 

“No.” Mark starts shaking his head. “No.”

 

Her head lowers, protectively holding the baby close to her. “Nolan left before he was born. I haven't… I wasn't sure how to introduce you two.”

 

“This can't be real.” Mark's hands tangle into his dark mane. “That can't– no. I don't even know what to say.”

 

Hesitantly, Andressa takes a step forward. “I know, Mark, but I promise it is–”

 

“He really just replaced us!” The tall hero turns away, looking up at the ceiling as his hands clasp around the back of his neck. “Left for eight years, no sign of Him, and then here I come to find out He has a new wife and a new kid!”

 

“We are estranged.” The Thraxan says calmly. “I fell out of love with Nolan once He left our son and I.”

 

“He doesn't see him as a son!” The man's tone is bitter, built with resentment. “He would have seen him as a tool for the Empire.”

 

The baby coos, and Andressa brings her attention to the baby's needs. Mark couldn't help but scowl at the sight.

 

“You said Nolan left three months ago, but he looks older than that.”

 

“Our biology is different.” Andressa comments, brushing her two-fingered hand through the baby's black hair. “We age faster compared to you and Nolan.”

 

This is insane. This is beyond insane.

 

“I can't believe He'd just…” Mark's clenched hand knocks into the center of his forehead, eyes watering with tears. “It’s something I didn't think He'd do again after what He did to…”

 

Andressa looks back at Mark. “What did He do?”

 

…

 

He married someone else. He had a child with someone else. Yet He couldn't even bother to tell her the entire truth about why He left in the first place. His heart begins to pound, his vision tinted red. Andressa takes a step back, protectively covering the infant in her arms.

 

“He ruined my life!” Mark shouts, teeth bared. “He killed my mom and left Earth! I grew up in a lab because of Him! He got to live a happy life while I can't sleep at night without dreaming of the moment He…!”

 

Suddenly, Mark's vision begins to lighten, and the room spins. He stammers back with a groan, his eyes growing heavy again. He hears murmurs approaching him, other bodies supporting him as his mind slips into the subconscious of his mind. He hears Andressa’s cry, saying something about food, then he's met with the land of dreams again.

 

____

 

When Mark awakes, he's back in the room where they treated him. Slowly, he sits up, feeling his muscles tense again. The room feels colder than earlier, almost reminding him of the snow at home. He shivers and looks around, hugging himself. On the desk beside him is what he assumes to be a plate of food; purple and green muck that didn't seem edible to eat, but his stomach growled, and he felt desperate.

 

Slowly, Mark unfolded everything that's happened the last couple of hours. The hero finally got confirmation that He was indeed alive and apparently had a lovely vacation here with a random bug woman until He got the maid pregnant and bolted the first chance He got. He was expecting Mark to find Him eventually, and the young hero is unsure how to feel about that. Does He think He can convince Mark to join his side? Does He want to see what Mark is capable of now?

 

He finished eating the muck eventually, which surprisingly wasn't that bad, before he settled the material down and forced himself out of bed. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his back, and makes his way over to the door. He was unsure where he was going, as now he was unsure to leave during a time like this. The sky outside was darker, indicating nighttime, and even though it'd never match the stars at home, the sky was beautiful. He hums, scratching his neck. He really did want to go home and curl into his own bed and lie there for a while, thinking about everything that had happened and how Cecil is always right about him running off without a precise plan and being disappointed with the results.

 

Then echoing coos greeted his thoughts, and his demeanor changed. Mark walks down the quiet hallway, passing many old paintings of other Thraxans that must have lived here at one point. The half-human man stops directly at the door, listening to the soft sounds a little longer, then slowly reaches up and presses his hand against the center.

 

As soon as he's greeted with the sight of the crib, his mind races. He steps inside, looking around the colorful room that twisted and turned his insides. He took another step, leaning forward so he had a better look at the infant resting inside. He was awake, grabbing his feet like any normal infant does, until his red eyes found Mark staring above, and he let out a small squeal. Mark felt his face shift but couldn't determine what expression was present to the child. His fists clench, his breathing picking up the longer he observed the chubby baby– his brother.

 

He is gone.

 

Andressa's voice echoed in his head, reminding him of the loss he had suffered. He ran away again, like a coward.

 

We are estranged.

 

Mark reaches into the crib. He finds himself picking up the baby.

 

He just replaced us!

 

Words circled in Mark's head, unable to focus on the reality around him. He was angry, hurt, ashamed, and tired. Constant emotions circling back within him. The little him inside craved vengeance, and another part craved closure. He didn't even realize this until he was holding the infant close to his chest, cradling him. His rough skin wasn't so bad on Mark, and he seemed to be enjoying being held by the technical stranger, reading up and brushing his tiny fingers on the paler man’s chin.

 

“... I am glad you hold no resentment.”

 

Andressa calmly walks into the room, head held high as she appears beside the taller man. “I was afraid I had poured too much information on you at once.”

 

“It's okay.” Mark mutters, looking down at the baby in his arms, who stared up at Mark with curiosity and playfulness. His eyes looked so human, despite everything. “I didn't mean to snap at you earlier.”

 

“You had a long trip, I understand.”

 

“I had a long everything.” The hero brushes a thumb over his brother's cheek, earning another squeal. “Did He ever tell you what He did? Before He left?”

 

Andressa shakes her head. The two sat down on the small bed next to the crib, and Mark told her everything from beginning to end. His discovery of his powers, his own mother, what He did, leaving Earth, and Mark's journey to look for Him since. He's told this story many times in the past, from when he was a kid to now, but there was always a blurry line between that and his consciousness. Sometimes, it still didn't feel real. A part of him wished the last eight years were a dream, and he'd wake up any day now and find his mother in the kitchen, cooking her fluffy pancakes with a brighter smile than the sun.

 

Andressa listened, and once Mark was done, she let a few tears fall. “I'm so sorry, Mark. He left out pieces of your mother. I thought maybe she was…”

 

“I know.” He had put the baby down at this point, letting him crawl on the floor. “Sometimes I wish it was like that.”

 

The empress ducks her head. “Nolan was a liar to us both, but He has hurt you longer than I've been alive.”

 

His head turns down at the bug-like baby, who was chewing on a purple-swirled block. “I'm sorry He lied to you too. I don't hold anything against you, honestly.”

 

Mark was tired. He was so tired, and yet the hatred for Him never failed to keep him awake. A part of him did feel some resentment towards Andressa, but she was nearly in the same boat as Mark. He came here, ruined everything, and left. It was just a specialty of His; only Mark couldn't help but still hate it. He wishes He was here, just for answers, just for violence, and maybe then he could finally get a good night's rest.

 

“I know.” She smiles, then turns to her baby. “I was… more worried for my son, to be honest. Nolan said when you eventually come looking for Him, you will kill him too.”

 

“No!” Mark's head shot up, eyes wide. “No, no, I– I feel a lot of things, but I wouldn't kill him. He's…”

 

They were in the same boat now. One way or another.

 

“He's innocent in all of this. You and him.”

 

It only occurred to Mark that he doesn't even know his own brother's name.

 

“I, um… you never told me what his name is.” Mark comments, noticing the way the infant was looking back at him again.

 

Andressa perks up when his curiosity flows between them. “We allow children to choose their own name once they come of age. Thraxan lifespans aren't like humans.”

 

Mark tilts his head, brows raised as his baby brother starts crawling towards his feet.

 

“Only one of your years.” The empress admits, her voice slightly faltering.

 

“One year?” The foreigner sits straight, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

 

She nods, her antenna twitching. “It never seemed short to me. From what… Nolan says, we do certain things quicker than your kind. Growing, learning, loving… it seems Nolan's genes have slowed our son’s aging.”

 

Mark feels a small, sharp tug at the edge of his foot. He peeks down and sees the tiny insectoid hybrid curiously exploring Mark's anatomy with his scratchy hands, bright eyes observing him. It seems he isn't used to someone being similarly built like him, which Mark kind of found endearing.

 

“Still,” Andressa smiles, watching the small baby, “I expect his first words any day now.”

 

The pale man reaches down and pokes at the baby's antenna. He looks up at Mark with a smile, his pincers sticking out of his mouth. In a way, Mark was reminded of himself when he looked at the baby.

 

“Love is blind.” Andressa soothes, reaching down and picking the baby up in her unique hands. “By the time I knew anything about Nolan, I was already… what’s the human phrase? Head over feet?”

 

Mark feels himself smile, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “Heels. Head over heels.”

 

Once more, guilt and shame swim over the young hero. “None of this is your fault, but it still hurts.”

 

Why was Mark different? Why was his mom different? What made everything so dark and cold that it turned Him against them and left Mark in a world of pain and anger? For the past eight years, he's rarely felt a pinch of joy unless he was allowed to do certain things or let out some steam that could be the closest thing to happiness. That type of stuff for him was hard, unless…

 

Unless he and Mark were together. Mark only felt true joy when the two of them were in the same room; no matter if something blew up or it started to rain at the fair, it was always a bright day with him. The taller man laughs softly, barely noticing the small blush spreading on his face.

 

The mantis-like woman perks her head, noticing the forming colors. “What? What is it?”

 

“Nothing, nothing, it's just…” Mark sucks in a breath, “the way you talked about Him, before the whole, you know? It just reminds me of someone back home that I'm also… head over heels for, I guess.”

 

She smiles. He's smiling back. The baby reaches for Mark, small bubbles of squeals rattling the other man's attention. Just as Mark reaches over to brighten the child's needs, the castle suddenly shakes as a major force of sound echoes around the entire palace. Mark grabs and pulls Andressa close to him, looking towards the small window in the room and seeing a flashing figure zoom past, and then another set of explosions went off by the area and shook the palace again. He curses, picking the insectoid up and speeding out of the room and to the outside world.

 

“Can you get somewhere safe from here?” Mark questions, wincing at the loud sounds coming from behind him. Andressa nods, holding the baby close. “Then go! Where's the rest of my stuff?”

 

“I– In the common area, by the statues.” She says in a panicked tone. “Mark, please– !”

 

“I'll be fine! Go and get out of here!”

 

In a flash, Mark dashes through the now broken halls and finds what he assumes is the common area. His head whips around in each corner, looking for the familiar pieces. There is screaming outside, and his panic rises. Finally, his eyes landed on the black, shiny glass of his headgear and the gadgets that belonged on his shoulders. Time moves fast as Mark finally fits them on, his helmet coming to life as soon as the door bursts open and a heavy set of footsteps make their way inside.

 

Mark spins on his heels and sees a big man barge through the broken door. Dark, predatory eyes fall on the shorter hero in front of him. His outfit was of white and grey, too close to His when He first came to Earth. Mark's eyes widened, dread creepily washing over him as things in his head started to click.

 

“So, it's true.” The mustached man smirked, pokey fangs sticking out between his lips. “The great Nolan fathered a child with an Earth woman.”

 

“What do you want?” Mark bites, getting into a fighting stance.

 

“You.” He chuckles. “If you fight well, we may allow you to join the Empire.”

 

His smirk falls as he begins taking steps towards Mark. “If not, you die.”

 

“How do you know Nolan?” Mark growls, feeling his blood starting to boil from the inside.

 

He cocks another smirk. “Who do you think sent us? Keeping tabs on a waste of a planet like this isn't much of our specialty, but Nolan was sure His little offspring would find it eventually.”

 

Mark's eyes widened.

 

Allen and the Coalition of Planets only found this place because He wanted them to. He was waiting for Mark, and now that he’s here…

 

“Stay back. I'm warning you.”

 

The man– the Viltrumite– scoffed, amused and unamused by the half-human. He lifts his hand too fast; Mark didn't comprehend the movement before the strong hand struck against the shorter man's protective gear and sent him flying into the broken wall. Mark gasps at the force, feeling the impact strike into his back, but ignores the painful feeling and jumps up, boosting right at the strange man and socking him in the nose.

 

The Viltrumite, while unmoving, did tenderly brush his finger just over his nostril and laughs, cracking his neck.

 

Instantly, the man in white and grey attempts to hit Mark again. The hero dodges this time and takes the first opening he sees to right-hook the soldier again. The man takes a step back, grinning, before he grabs Mark by the throat and slams him down hard on the concrete ground below. Mark’s own nostrils begin to smell of iron, the wet liquid running down his face from the harsh hit he had endured by the man above. He's bleeding; he never bleeds.

 

“Are you sure you're Nolan's son?” The man taunts, glaring down at Mark. “And not an insect like these creatures?”

 

The man's finger pushes the back of Mark's head, and the hero feels his body pressing into the ground at an alarming rate. His eyes shoot open, trying to force himself up, but the Viltrumite wouldn't let him go. The atmosphere around him became insufferable; his lungs started to scream for air. His mind flashes to Andressa and the baby, and suddenly, Mark cries out and throws his head up. His hand finds the Viltrumite's neck and squeezes, lifting him in the air and throwing him into one of the still-standing walls. With a sharp gasp, Mark flies after, fists ready.

 

“Get off this planet!” Mark and the Viltrumite meet again, interlocked in a struggling strength match as the Viltrumite holds tightly onto Mark's arms, trying to push him back.

 

“You knew the consequences when you came here!” He spits, his rugged face dangerously close to Mark, his dagger-like teeth inches from his face. His scanner was already analyzing everything the paler man was seeing and feeling, yet he couldn't be bothered to focus on that right now.

 

Mark pulls back and cocks his arm backwards, using his other hand to hold the strange being in place before he punches him again, this time a bit more blood flying out of his mouth.

 

“Your father nearly dishonored His people!” He yells, under-hooking right into Mark's abdomen. “At least He has the decency to attempt redemption!”

 

Mark's eyes narrowed. “Pathetic.”

 

Pathetic. Nolan was pathetic. Mark would have just been as pathetic as Him if he followed in His footsteps. Mark dodges the Viltrumite and pauses, looking around and seeing one of the fallen statues with a giant spike at the end of it sticking from the ground. Instantaneously, Mark kick-starts right over to it and takes hold of the stone surface. When he turns, the Viltrumite is over him, arms held up in the air, ready to crush Mark like he truly was an insect.

 

The half-human yells as he thrusts the spike into the Viltrumite's belly, staring as blood and guts squirt out the instant his insides meet the cold air. In a fit of shock, the warrior takes a couple of steps back, wide eyes staring at the new wound. Mark yells out and pushes forward, thrusting the piece inside deeper as he mounts the Viltrumite on the wall, pushing in one more time. The white and grey warrior coughs out blood, mouth moving for only a moment more until his eyes fall and his body goes limp. Mark lets go and takes a step back, about to read lifeform scans on the Viltrumite's body, until a loud boom reminds him this one didn't come alone.

 

Mark flies out and hovers in the air in still silence. Gradually, he looks at the ground below and sees the massacre and bloodshed that had followed through while he was inside. His chest swells at the sight of multiple Thraxan bodies scattering around like they were broken toys the attackers lost interest in and left to rot in the dusk. He grinds his teeth, feeling familiar emotions rise in him.

 

They didn't do anything wrong. They were trying to live their lives, yet they must be punished because I am here. This planet was monitored until I was here. This is all His doing. I'm sorry.

 

A small swoosh hovered ahead. Mark slowly glances up and sees two other Viltrumites in white and grey staring down at him. One was another man with blonde hair and a mustache, two screw bolts drilled into his head with weird orange glasses placed on his face. The other was a woman with long grey hair, a blade braided at the very end of the silver silk. Despite her hair color, she only appeared to be middle-aged in human terms. Her actual age could be older than Mark can even guess.

 

“There's the Great Nolan's boy.” The blonde one speaks with poison in his words. “Seems Lucan found you first, I see. Glad you aren't too soft.”

 

Mark’s hidden face scowls, feeling the years of hatred and anger piling into one. “Your friend is dead.”

 

Unfazed, the Viltrumite with the silver hair speaks. “Then he deserved his fate.”

 

“Like these insects.” The blonde one crosses his arms. “You barely touch them, and they die.”

 

Mark almost loses his cool. Almost. “Who are you?”

 

“I figured as much you haven't heard of us.” The blonde continues. “I am Vidor, and this is Thula. Consider this your assessment; prove to us you're strong enough, and you'll have a place in our Empire.”

 

Please. Like that would ever be something he considers. “Vidor and Thula, huh?”

 

The Viltrumites continue to stare, waiting to see anything from the younger man.

 

“I'll kill you for what you did to these people.” Mark growls, slowly seizing closer.

 

Vidor’s face wrinkles, uncrossing his arms with balled fists.

 

“Then do it.”

 

Mark takes a deep breath, slowly pressing his fingers into his right palm. In a way, he was left satisfied when he saw the expressed bewilderment of the Viltrumite when Mark supposedly vanished into thin air. Then, the younger of the three practically breaks the air around them as he speeds right into Vidor and tackles him into the structure behind him. The pair goes through the rough patch, right into the purple-pink sky. Mark didn't even realize this was the first time he actually got a glance at the cloudless sky.

 

The older Viltrumite reels his fist back and clocks Mark in the chest, quickly figuring out the hero's invisibility and the ranges he carries. Mark, unfazed, grabs the other warrior's arm and yanks him towards his own body, raising his knee and knocking it right into his abdomen. Vidor reaches for nothing, attempting to grab Mark again, but the latter is quick. He knocks the older man towards the sky and flies after him, punch after punch coming down on the blonde alien. Vidor’s golden mustache was already painted red, his own blood dripping out of his nose and mouth. Red fangs bared at the invisible man, scowling at the air.

 

“Coward!” Vidor yells, knocking his hard knuckles into the face of the headgear. “Show your face in battle! Show us who this son of Nolan is!”

 

I’m no son of His! Mark internally screams, clashing his body into the other alien’s, his own hands finding his throat and squeezing hard enough to cut off air. The blonde raises his leg and knocks a hard knee into the half-human’s stomach. Mark holds his breath, biting his tongue, trying to dig his fingers into the man's skin enough to make it bleed and wither.

 

All of a sudden, Mark feels a gust of wind hit his back, then a strong force strikes his side and sends him coursing off the mighty Viltrumite. Mark's vision blurs as he spins in the air for a second or two until he finds a steady pace. However, the approaching figure was faster, already caught up to Mark's speed, and instinctively, Mark covered his face with his hands, feeling a sharp slash across his palms all at once. His back hits the hard ground, knocking the air from his lungs. When he looks at his hands, there's a long, deep line running across both of them. His vision glitches, and soon enough, he's visible again. The young man curses just as the silver-haired woman descends, holding her long braid in her hands, the blade at the tip dripping with blood.

 

“Because you're Nolan's son,” she smiles, a wicked, fangy smile, “I'll make this quick.”

 

She boosts right at Mark. Ignoring the pain in his upper body, Mark pushes him up and jumps back in time before her sharp boots could crush his ribs. Unfortunately, the blonde Viltrumite was already quick on Mark's heel, colliding his muscular body into the young hero’s and grabbing his green-covered neck, spinning them and chucking the injured hybrid over to Thula. Mark feels something tight wrap around his throat, and he's suddenly in the air again, his airway forcefully closed as the grey braids lock onto him, squeezing him.

 

“There.” He hears the venomous voice purr next to his ear. “I promised it would be quick.”

 

Vidor was flying after them, eyes locked on her and Mark. The young man thinks for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as ruined ideas scatter in his head. He thinks and thinks and thinks, and quickly he stops thinking as his hand reaches to his helmet and forcefully removes it from his head, face-to-face with the colorful sky. Without warning, Mark throws his arm back and slams the hard piece into the older woman's face. Glass and metal explode everywhere, including in her cold eyes. In a fit of shock, she lets go of her grip, and the braid aimlessly falls. Mark dashes down and once again grabs Vidor and hurls them towards the ground, landing in the desert-like paradise.

 

Vidor smirks, immediately reaching up and forcefully grabbing Mark by the upper part of his chin. With a sharpened glare, Mark suddenly pulls his head back and, in an instant, bites down on the bigger hand, his teeth smudged in red. Blood that wasn't his exploded into his mouth, his tongue tasting the bitter iron. Vidor doesn't flinch, but his face remains amusingly angry. Mark grabs the Viltrumite's wrist and yanks it off, taking some skin with him.

 

“Stubborn little thing, and for what?” He hears Vidor grumble, knocking the side of his hand against Mark's temple, more blood flying. “If you die, you never deserved to live.”

 

“Talking won't keep you alive.” Mark replies, his own blood smearing the other man's face as he harshly takes hold of the golden hair and turns, using the man as a shield as Thula collides into them both. The black-haired man tumbles in the rough sand, grabbing a nearby rock and stopping mid-roll to gather his breath. He slowly looks up at the duo, who were already up and running again.

 

Mark knew he had to do something. If he doesn't finish this soon, he'll die, as well as his brother, Andressa, and every other innocent Thraxan that resides on this planet. He thinks back to Rex, Cecil, Eve– everyone he’s ever cared about. He's fighting like he's on Earth, more used to heroes who have a sense of dignity in their morals. This was different, too different. With a grunt, he stands, dark eyes narrowed at the space conquerors. Vidor leered when he saw the real face of the son of Nolan.

 

“Impressive, but not enough.” He snickers. “You are no Viltrumite.”

 

No. No, he wasn't. And he'll never be. Mark never kills people, but neither did He at some point. Mark cracks his hands, inhaling his own blood.

 

This time, Thula reacts first. She dashes in front of Mark in a second, twirling her body around and letting her blade fly. Mark jumps back but still feels the cold blade cut his skin as he attempts to dodge. She snickers, and before Mark knows it, she ducks under and thrusts the blade into his side. The younger hero forces his screams down, stepping back as his exposed muscles twitch in the cold atmosphere. She licks her teeth in delight, tossing the dagger in her hands.

 

Thula is quick and clever, yet Mark wasn't afraid. In the second that it took her blade to cut Mark's left cheek, his bloodshot eyes caught the corpses of the Thraxans behind the fighting duo. Many bodies, children included, lay still in the rubble, blue blood dripping across the sand and the leftover chunks of what used to be homes.

 

His brows furrow, and when her braid comes again for Mark, he swiftly dodges and ducks down, his left fist flying up and uppercutting the older woman's jaw. She stammers back, grunting, and lifts her leg to hit Mark, but he only catches it before his elbow knocks her hard in the nose, her scarlet blood raining on his suit from the collision. He whips his other body around and hits against her jaw. Her body flails back, but Mark is quicker this time. He grabs the would-be handle of her blade and turns just in time to see Vidor soaring right at him, eyes wide with rage.

 

Mark rushes to the side, pulling Thula along and finding an opening on Vidor. Just as the blonde man begins to move, Mark hurls the blade right into his side, watching the violent Viltrumite’s side split open in an instant. Mark doesn't give him time to process; his other hand reaches and grabs the golden strands, yanking him back and penetrating the dagger into the taller man's throat. Vidor coughs, something else speaking through his eyes, but Mark ignores it as he plunges the blade into his neck again, then his cheek, and soon he's stabbing repeatedly into the blonde’s face, crying out as he does so.

 

Vidor's body soon falls, a waterfall of blood raining down all sides of his body from the repeated assault. The younger half-human feels Thula attempting to pull away, one clawed hand digging into the exposed ripped fabric of Mark's arm. The hero pulls her braid forward and, without warning, jerks his elbow back and feels the force of it go through the silver-haired woman's jaw, the disgusting sound of skin ripping and bone breaking quenching its way through Mark's eardrums. Thula’s icy gaze widened, her jaw practically hanging on by a thread as she backed away from the hero, her wrinkled hands desperately trying to reach and hold the dislocated, bloody mess, but the shock took over instead. She stares at Mark with a mixture of surprise, anger, and confusion. He stares back at her, expression cold.

 

She gags and falls over, landing on her back with desperate gasps. He sighs, looking at the bloody mess on his elbow, then down at his hands. There was more blood on him, a mixture of his and theirs. He steps forward, carefully observing, the sky now empty.

 

“Thank God.” He heaves, his body now reacting to the hits from earlier. “Andressa, I need to–”

 

He only took two steps before a loud whistling sound ambushed him from behind. Mark feels the painful kick of a giant pair of feet collide into his lower back. Pain shoots up the young man's spine, and he screams. The feeling shoots through his body as he falls to the ground, tears naturally coming from his eyes. Slowly, he turns his head over his shoulder and sees the man from earlier, coughing up blood, using his cloth as a holder for his organs.

 

“Next time you kill somebody,” the Viltrumite, Lucan, spits, “make sure they're dead.”

 

He brings his wrist close to his mouth, a small beeping sound coming from a small device that Mark hadn't noticed. “It's done.”

 

The man falls back soon after, more of his blood and organs spilling out on the rocks. Mark chokes, trying to push himself up, but his body only shoots with pain. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, and he's overcome with a shadow loading over his vision.

 

____

 

“... You're alive. Good.”

 

Mark feels his consciousness crawl back to the reality around him. He chokes as he forces himself to wake up, his eyes fighting open as he meets the grey boots facing him. The young man tries to move, but a rough hand presses against his back, keeping him in place.

 

“Who are–”

 

“Don't speak.”

 

Mark’s senses snap on alert. He tries to move again, his mouth wetting with blood, and the hand doesn't even move an inch. No, no, this can't be happening. Not today of all days.

 

There's a strong sigh, the hand moving to Mark's blood, shoulder, and hoists him up. The young half-human tries to protest, but his body refuses to move, and his throat is too flooded with blood. He's sitting now, back pressed against a sharp rock. He hisses, eyes shutting tightly for a moment. The man who moved him waits patiently, or maybe it's a taunt. Mark doesn't know, and he doesn't care.

 

“You–” Mark coughs, opening his tired eyes and seeing the familiar face he tried so hard to forget. His hand twitches, but his body refuses to move.

 

“You… you've grown, Mark.” He sighs, running a bare hand through His greying hair. “I saw you out there, you know? Whoever taught you to fight back on Earth did a good job.”

 

“I'll ki…”

 

He ignores the young hero. “You survived your first true battle and proven yourself worthy of your Viltrumite heritage. That's good, Mark. Very good.”

 

The tears were hurting his eyes. “You mons–”

 

A harsh hit to his face was enough to leave him silent. The old beast sighs again, nose wrinkling.

 

“Listen to me, Mark.” He pleads. “If I was able to prove back my loyalty and place in the Empire, then you can earn yours alongside me. It's not too late; you just need to listen and follow my instructions.”

 

He spits in His eye. The man wipes away the blood with His thumb, unmoved.

 

“You will return to Earth, assume my mission, and prepare the planet for our rule.” He says ever so calmly. “I know this may not appeal to you, given your… sympathies.”

 

“I'll kill you.”

 

He says nothing to that. “I will give you a warning, Mark, just this once; you can kill a few humans to convince them to capitulate,” he leans down, his voice rough and harsh, just as he remembers, “or we will kill millions if we arrive to find you or your planet still defiant against us.”

 

“I'll fucking kill you.” Mark nearly cries, finally finding the strength to reach up and attempt to grab the unwanted man's neck. He grabs it with ease and twists. Mark cries out, but he never takes his angry gaze off of Him.

 

“Don't make this harder than it has to be.” It sounds like a beg, but there's no warmth in His tone. “I will check on your progress soon. I… we have a lot to catch up on, Mark.”

 

“Nolan,” Mark grittee his bloody teeth, tears streaming down his face, “stay away from my planet. Don’t you ever–”

 

Nolan stands, coldly staring down at Mark. “It's ours, son–”

 

“Don't call me that.”

 

Nolan looks away with a huff, brows slightly furrowed. “Good luck on your mission.”

 

With that, Nolan hovers and flies off, not glaring back at Mark. The young man feels himself call out to Him, a grunted growl ringing from his mouth, almost like an angry plea to come back. Face him, hurt him, kill him like He did with her, yet it all becomes inaudible as Mark's mind slips. By the time he blinks again, He's gone, as well as the ship that He arrived in.

 

Mark is there for a while, unable to move for some time. He sits and only thinks of Him. More than anything, he wanted to crawl back to the base and find Cecil, beg for forgiveness or make up another excuse for his recklessness, and just hope Cecil would allow it again. Or even Donald, find him and just hear his voice so his anger doesn't take over again and he can find some closure in the harsh night. Or maybe find Eve and patrol with her, talk about their goals and achievements, their dreams that they share, and how sometimes they wish things were different. Even Rae would be nice right now; they could talk about the show they love so much and find comfort in their post-childhood memories together without worry.

 

Just anything. Anyone.

 

Just Rex.

 

Mark's mind wandered back to his childhood, the years that led to this. The loss of his mother, the loss of William, the new life he was forced to live with– the anger and resentment that still followed him years later. Yet, even with his hidden rage, his mind can only flash to Rex. The boy, the man, the hero that made life worth living. After everything that happened, Mark lost hope in happiness, but he brought it back and made him remember the rare emotion so many times so effortlessly, and Mark could never tell him enough how grateful he is for him, how lucky he was that he got to meet and know him.

 

You saved my life.

 

Mark was desperately crawling towards the burning palace, blood trailing behind.

 

There's so much I want to tell you, but I can't.

 

By the time he pulled himself over the horizon, the pain had turned numb.

 

I always wondered, was there any chance you felt the same?

 

He was crying again. His mind swirled with the memories of everyone he's ever known.

 

Cecil is showing him around the base for the first time.

 

Donald was teaching him basic algebra because he couldn't figure it out for the life of him.

 

Flying through the night sky with Eve for the first time.

 

He and Rae chatting about Seance Dog and sharing snacks.

 

Hell, even memories of Robot, Kate, and Amanda had begun to flood his mind.

 

Then, he thinks back to the night on the roof, sitting side-by-side with the boy of his dreams, and realizing then and there, he was hopelessly and deeply in love with Rex Splode.

 

“God…” Mark moans in pain, feeling his body fall again. His eyes close, and, for once in his life, he hopes he will dream this time.

 

____

 

Two voices speak over the injured man, and his body jolts awake. Above him are two Thraxans, discussing the man's condition.

 

“Is the city…? Andressa…?” Mark coughs, ignoring the other words they may have been saying before.

 

“We can take you there.” Says one, while the other helps Mark stand. He slips in and out of consciousness as they cautiously walk through the ruined city. The black-haired man can't focus, can't think, and can barely feel the open cuts on his body. He feels inhuman, as the pain only seemed like a pinch in his own skin now.

 

Finally, they reach the survivors and what remained of their home. Mark didn't even realize the two insectoids that found him had bandaged him to the best of their ability. He didn't realize the fire was further from the palace than he thought. He was in a world of confusion but couldn't bring himself to question anything.

 

The Thraxan that carried him to the safe haven slowed their steps, then settled the paler man down before quickly hurrying off to find someone to take a better look at him. The half-human sighs and leans back, holding his stomach, face wrinkled in pain. His mouth feels weird; he reaches up and lets his jaw fall, bloody fingers finding his teeth and–

 

Mark flinches his hand back when he feels the tip of his fingers meet the sharpness of his teeth. He felt the dentins again, and there was no doubt his canine teeth had suddenly become true fangs. They must have changed while he was unconscious. How did this happen? Why did it never happen before?

 

“Mark!”

 

But the questions disappeared from his thoughts in an instant.

 

Relief washes over him as the calm voice comes rushing over, the gold-wearing empress appearing in his vision with the small, blue baby held tenderly in her arms.

 

“Nolan? Where's Nolan? Was He here?”

 

Mark slowly nods. “He was, but only for me. He’s gone now, I promise.”

 

Her breathing evens, and she takes a step forward. Mark feels shame drag through him, and he fights back tears as he forces himself to keep talking.

 

“The city, these people– it's all my fault.”

 

“Mark,” Andressa extends her hand out and gently brushes Mark's arm, “you saved my life and your brother's.”

 

The mantis-like woman places the baby down, and immediately he takes steps over to Mark. He reaches out and leans on the man's legs, staring up at him with red eyes. Mark's lip begins to tremble.

 

“If I hadn't been here, none of this would have happened.”

 

When she stands, there's a visible tension in her body. “Nolan is the one who caused this, but if it weren't for Him, I wouldn't have been the happiest mother in all of Thraxa, and I wouldn't have met the bravest and kindest hero that has ever walked our planet.”

 

He couldn't hold them back anymore; wet tears began to run down with the blood on his face. Two Thraxans rushed over and started to attend to the hero’s wounds.

 

“Thraxan lives are short compared to yours.” Her voice trembles. “Our culture doesn't assign blame; we only look forward. Despite everything, I do not hate… Him, and I could never hate you, Mark.”

 

He sniffs as the infant wobbles back over to Andressa, happily collapsing in her arms. She lifts him up and gazes over at the damage done to her home.

 

“We will rebuild, Mark. Count on that.”

 

Mark sits up, wiping away his tears. “Let me help.”

 

All three Thraxans look at him.

 

“I don't mind.” He swallows, droopy eyes glaring to the side. “It's the least I can do. Please, Andressa.”

 

Even with her bug-like features, a warm, tender smile brightens up her face.

 

“How can I say no to you?”

 

She steps closer, slinging an arm around Mark and pulling him near, bringing their foreheads together.

 

“As of now, you are considered one of us.”

Notes:

Did anyone notice the Epic the musical lyrics I used did you guys see it did you did y

Anyway! On to my thoughts for this chapter!
~Originally I was going to post this on Saturday... But I got impatient again lmao, but also I never written 10k words on a fanfic before, those are for essays for me but I locked in just for Mark and I may be a little proud of myself lol
~Honestly, I was kind of scared to write the battle between Mark and the Viltrumites because while this Mark doesn't hold back on danger, these are Viltrumites... He's never fought another Viltrumite, but then rewatching the fight made me realize I can make Mark use the environment around him while also using his head for some logical stuff to battle them, as Cecil made sure to always use his head in a fight 😆 maybe not when he left, but he's using it now!
~I know Viltrumite DNA is very dominate over every other genes in the Invincible universe, but I always liked the idea of Oliver looking a lot like his mom, then looks more like Mark as he gets older and changing colors. He reminds me of a bug already, he will be a bug here 😆 until he gets older, of course... 😞
~Speaking of Oliver... I know Angstrom said Oliver only exists in Main Mark's universe... But have you considered I can do what I want /j. In seriousness, I don't believe Angstrom's claims in the show, as he is already unstable and is very clearly bias. So, I'm using my own logic to have Oliver in this story because I love him
~Yes, Nolan was planet hopping before he went to Thraxa. Originally I was going to have him there for a long time... But his relationship with Andressa is already a little weird in the show (I think?) and I rather just have it be where he was basically on his own depression journey for 8 years until he found Thraxa and boom boom Oliver baby, keep it semi the same but he's a deadbeat dad to Oliver too 😭 I love throwing Nolan deeper into the asshole bin when he's literally one of my favorite characters to watch and analyze LMFAO
~Ngl, the part where Mark remembers Rex and his found family was going to be shorter... I got carried away and think everyone should know that <3

Anywho, that's the end of the notes for this chapter! Hope you enjoyed :) next chapter is one of my favs lowkeeeyyyyy saying that beforehand

Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen

Summary:

“Goddamn it.” He peeks over his shoulder to where the fight was held previously. The darker redhead knows he would be criticized for this later, either because of his powers fucking up mid-battle or him running off again to grim in silence.

 

Get it fucking together.

Notes:

GUYS!!! I'M ON THE GRIND!! I am dying though

I finished college work and have my wonderful three days of work off so I decided to write the next chapter even after the last one took away my entire soul... Ended up breaking my fingers /j. I managed to finish it on Saturday though!! Yay!! (Knowing AO3, it'll probably show it was posted on Sunday but it's fine... Bleh)

But overall I got this chapter done on Saturday >:D it's still Saturday for me!! Buuuuuut with that being said there's definitely no update on Wednesday, have to focus on other stuff (like Deltarune ... I love Deltarune) as well as properly write out notes for the next chapter cause I've been slacking on that 😆 overall, the college student life is calling to me (and Deltarune again)

Enjoy!! :)

“Can't sleep?”

 

“How obvious is that?”

 

Rex leans against the rail on top of the Teen Team’s base, elbows resting on the cold bars as the familiar pink light closes in on him. He never takes his eyes off the stars when the redhead lands beside him, looking up at the dark sky with him. The girl he's known for so long leans close and rests her head on his shoulder, crossing her arms and legs. Rex returns the gesture, leaning his head on the top of hers. They've done it so many times, Rex had lost count of it a long time ago.

 

“It's been two months.” Rex mutters, a bit of worry and resentment mixed into one. “And we still haven't heard from shit.”

 

Eve frowns, turning away towards the city below. “Yeah, it… it really sucks, but that doesn't mean anything bad has happened.”

 

“It's space, Eve.” The darker redhead bites his lower lip. “Anything could have happened, and we would never know.”

 

They were quiet for a second, then a brisk sigh escaped from the taller hero.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I'll let that one slide.”

 

Rex grins at the humor, but it doesn't lighten his mood.

 

For nearly two months, there has been no sign of Mark coming from anywhere or anything. The closest they got was a random alien coming by Earth a few times but not doing much with the planet itself. He thought it was that Allen freak his friend told him about, but it's always a bunch of randos that stop by like they're house hunting or something. But so far, there's been no trace of his friend. He doesn't like to worry; worrying is one of the worst emotions to have, and he refuses to express that openly with anyone that wasn't Mark or Eve. Unfortunately for him, Eve has been witnessing more than she ever has with her ex.

 

“He said two weeks,” he sighs, “and I know it's ridiculous to think it would actually be two weeks, but it still sucks, you know?”

 

“I know.” She mumbles, gazing at the taller hero. “I'm worried, too. I keep flying up to the edge of the atmosphere in hopes I catch him or if there's any sign of him anywhere. I don't think I've been this worried for a while.”

 

He frowns, moving his sight away from the sky for a brief time. “I hope that dumbass is okay. Just to leave like that–”

 

Eve moves her head. “Rex–”

 

“No, I mean, come on.” He grunts, head leaning on his hands, pulling away from Eve. “That sucked, it really did. I was there; it sucked then, and it sucks now. I kind of wish I did more to convince him, but Rae and Amanda were in comas, and I couldn't just… fuck.”

 

He doesn't mean to get upset, but even he has his limits to certain things. Like running off to an alien planet to fight his Earth-conquering dad with absolutely zero backup and no guaranteed safe trip to said alien planet. At least Rex can count on GPS to get him anywhere he wants with zero problems. Mark was better at coordinates and locations than he used to be, but he still sucked a lot of ass at finding certain places, which led to the other hero being the pinpointer to find anything.

 

“Rex? Earth to Rex?”

 

“Wha?” The man blinks, turning his head over to the redhead. “Did you say something?”

 

“I was, and I'm guessing you didn't hear me?”

 

“Nah.”

 

The redhead presses her lips together. “I said don't beat yourself up over Mark leaving. It was bound to happen eventually; we know that much from him.”

 

“Yeah, I knew I was going to have an excuse to kick his ass soon, anyway.” He jokes, but he's a little serious. He knows Mark well enough to figure out he wasn't going to stay on Earth forever once he got that information, but the darker redhead had hoped his speech would push it away further and delay the inevitable. “I thought I was the hardass around here.”

 

“You still are, and the only one you listen to is Mark.”

 

“I don't listen to anybody.”

 

“But Mark.”

 

Rex huffs. “Sometimes I hate it when you're playful.” The smirk on his lips told otherwise. Eve giggles, stepping back and turning towards the entrance of the base.

 

“And off she goes.” He teases, watching her as she leaves.

 

“I’m going to go check on Rae.” She mentions. “And Amanda. Amanda, too.”

 

Rex glances at her over his shoulder. “Amanda has already recovered… you've been seeing Rae a lot more.”

 

“They got hurt, Rex.”

 

“Uh huh, just like how I used to get hurt during missions?”

 

He fully expected her to throw something at him, or tell him to shut up, or make an excuse for the newfound behavior. But she only giggles before she heads over to the door, wrapping her arms around herself.

 

“We both have that guilty sense.”

 

Rex raises a brow and opens his mouth to say something, but she's already inside by the time he could think of what words to say. With a grumble, he glances back at the stars, brows knitting in worry.

 

Where are you, man?

 

____

 

Things have been getting harder. For starters, his abilities were starting to get out of control.

 

“Rex!” He hears Kate call out to him. “We need more bombs thrown at the enemy, not blowing up cars in the middle of the street!”

 

“I hear you!” Rex calls back, harshly gripping his wrist. “Just, shit! Give me a minute over here!”

 

Unfortunately, they didn't have a minute. Another bomb was thrown their way, hurtling right at Rex at high speed. The hero gasps, boosting himself away from the weapon and feeling the wrath of the explosion going off behind him. Rex curses, grabbing something to his right– felt like a book or close to it– and chucks it at the enemies ahead. He hears the sound rattle the street around them, but no source of any opponents being hit catches his attention. Rex springs to his feet when he hears someone rile behind him, and, instinctively, he turns and swings immediately, hitting someone hard in their temple.

 

“Ow! That was my organ breather!”

 

Rex frowns. “It's called a nose, Shapesmith!”

 

Ah, yes, Shapesmith. The Martian from Mars or wherever that snuck onto Earth a while back and was caught because a banished Martian knows a banished Martian when he sees one. Martian Man, however, took pity on him and took him in as an “apprentice” for his own sake. He's been on Earth for a while; Rex isn't sure how long, but the alien Guardian thought him finally joining a team and fighting crime would defrost his personality a bit and open him up to other things. So, he came to Teen Team, proposed this to Rudy, and he accepted without actually telling the others. Now Rex is stuck with someone who doesn't know the difference between a treadmill and a moving truck that's coming at him at seventy-six miles per hour.

 

Shapesmith shrugs, smiling nervously, unbothered by the blood twinkling down his structured face. Rex motions to get back in line, his hand suddenly sparking with miniature explosive pops. The redhead curses, thinking, Damn it, not now!, as the enemies draw near. Shapesmith smoothes past and stretches his body over the criminals, a long arm scooping up at least two and hanging them high in the air. The experienced jerk frowns but brings his attention to his hands; he stretches his fingers, and more pops and sparks dance across his palms, but not enough to really fire up any power like he usually does.

 

His hands sting. His wrists sting. His arms are starting to feel the burn of it too. It was growing uncomfortable; he could feel the muscles under his skin start to twitch and pulse. He's recently gone too far with his powers as of late, pushing past his limits and breaking boundaries that he's been told to not step over if he wanted to keep his body stable. Rex groans, unaware of the loud commotion behind him, as suddenly a large figure shadows over him and a hard hit is knocked into his side. Rex feels his body slam into a car, his head hitting the upper part of a car door, then his ass hitting the hard ground below.

 

“Guh, I'm not in the mood.” Rex spits, looking up at the bigger figure, who easily towered over the hero. The darker redhead quickly grabs multiple capsules from his gadgets and lights them up, gritting his teeth. Instead of making him look cool like they usually do, his fist starts twitching, the popping sound increasing in his palm alone. In a panic last-minute decision, Rex chucks the pieces towards the man's chest, increasing the assault larger than necessary and causing the attack to expand around the area. Rex flew back again, this time being caught by a large hand before his body could go further than it needed to be.

 

“Be careful, explosive boy!” The green ogre growls, setting him down like he was a wet cat. “You're going to break a finger again.”

 

“That happened… two times!” Rex holds up two fingers. “I got caught off guard–”

 

They didn't have time to argue; the bigger bully of the group was swiftly grabbed by a large, orange arm and dragged off to be tied up with the rest. Monster Girl lifts her head, seeing her teammates surround the team they were just battling. She looks back to the front of her, only to see an empty space where her friend used to stand.

 

Rex meets the dark side of an alleyway, removing his gloves and rubbing his hands together to calm the friction. He knew he was fine before– completely fine and dandy with nothing wrong in the world. Except when he thinks back to the fight with Machine Head and his goons, then he’s pushing himself over the edge in both battles and with his explosives; unfortunately, his body is really starting to feel the effects of it. Rex has only ever felt this way once, and he almost bedridden himself with how much power he was producing at a time.

 

“Goddamn it.” He peeks over his shoulder to where the fight was held previously. The darker redhead knows he would be criticized for this later, either because of his powers fucking up mid-battle or him running off again to grim in silence.

 

Get it fucking together.

 

Rex decides to deal with this later. Right now, it was still bright, and he needed to go and check on something. If he does that, his mind will be occupied with another worry that involves his body less. With a quick crack of his knuckles, Rex makes his way down the other side of the alleyway, and on his way to a familiar place he almost hated with every fiber of his being.

 

____

 

“Hey, hey! Back again! Any updates?”

 

Rex doesn't even acknowledge the woman at the front desk as he walks over to the oblivious agent that is known as Donald. The older man isn't surprised to see Rex wander into the GDA these days, whether it's to see Mark or get something from here despite Cecil's protests. However, the last couple of weeks have been for a different reason, and it's been nearly everyday that Rex comes strutting in and asking the same question as before.

 

“Unfortunately, no.” Donald sighs, crossing his arms. “Still no update or signs of Mark.”

 

“Ah, not even a little bit?” Rex chuckles, his voice strained. “Not even a flash of black and green swinging by? Or doing dumb tricks in space…? Anything? Still nothing?”

 

“Still, uh, nothing.” Donald softly repeats, adjusting the sunglasses on him. “We've been keeping tabs everyday, but there's been nothing to report.”

 

“Why not let me in?” Rex offers, still trying to keep his shiny-man attitude. “Trust me, I can basically pick up anything Mark does from five miles away.”

 

“Rex–”

 

“Like, surely you picked up sounds from space that could probably be someone flying by. I've seen that loser fly around so much, I basically know it by heart.”

 

“Rex, I–”

 

“It’s not that hard once you put your mind to it–”

 

“Rex.”

 

The hero finally shut up when a thick, groggy voice interrupted the one-sided conversation. Cecil comes around the corner, adjusting his tie as his eyes lock onto the younger man. Rex doesn't say much to him, putting his hands on his hips, waiting for the older man to join them.

 

“We're doing everything we can,” Cecil moves his eyes over to Donald, “but we're just as limited as you are.”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Rex rolls his eyes, his smirk replaced with a deep frown. “The most advanced agency in the entire world doesn't even have a lick of information about a planet that my best friend traveled to despite having every single thing saved in their little database! And don't tell me you don't do that! Mark already told me that bullshit.”

 

Cecil’s nostrils flare, but he keeps his face neutral as best he can. “It's a planet six days away and in an entirely different galaxy.”

 

“Then send Immortal after him! He can breathe in space! Or Martian Man! Or even that new team freak that Martian Man forced us to take in!”

 

“We can't risk limiting Earth's defenders!” Cecil slightly snaps, brows furrowing. “Look, I understand the frustration–”

 

Rex scoffs, crossing his arms. “It's more than frustration, Cecil. I'm… worried, I guess! I don't like being worried. It sucks balls.”

 

“I can tell.” The older man had more to say, but Rex could tell he was purposely keeping his mouth shut. “Check back in next week; barging in here everyday isn't going to change anything.”

 

He turns, back facing Rex. “You'll be the first person we contact as soon as Mark returns.”

 

Rex does the same, already marching towards the front door. “I better be.”

 

He knows he can be a handful, but the possibility of Mark never returning kept stirring in his head day by day. He tries to stay nonchalant, focusing on anything else, like annoying the ever-loving fuck out of his group, but even he's starting to notice how distant he's become with them. When Mark left, things got quieter and denser, and he wasn't exactly the biggest fan of it. It reminded him of the old days, which he already hated.

 

For half an hour, Rex wandered around the streets of the city with no plan whatsoever. He goes back to the GDA for a progress report, gets nothing out of it, walks through the streets to pretend everything is fine, and then he either has to fight an unexpected villain that tries to blow up the city at least twice a year, or he goes back to the base and watches those dumb reality shows he and Eve used to binge-watch together, or the stupid animated TV show about a dog with powers Mark likes so much. Anything to keep his mind busy for a while longer. Away from the troubled thoughts of his friend being gone and even further away from his body becoming a complete fuck-up.

 

Unfortunately, today wasn't his lucky day; he expected to be back at the base by now and drown in his own sorrows and entirely go through every home decoration magazine he has under his stashes. But instead, he was hanging upside down by the ankle as Elephant Man presented him to the citizens of Chicago, yelling something about needing to change everyone's diets and stop eating animals, or something. Rex stopped paying attention a while ago, his mind wandering elsewhere. It was only when a figure bigger than the mammal-based criminal socked him hard in the face that Rex felt himself fall, then caught just as quickly by a pair of skinny arms. Well, two sets of skinny arms catching him, that is.

 

“Hey, Kate.”

 

“Hey, Rex.”

 

The two Kates placed the mopping man down, unfazed by the green monster behind her wailing down on Elephant Man. “You left the fight early. Special occasion, or?”

 

He shrugs, brushing himself down. “You know, going to strip clubs and watching girls dance is my specialty.”

 

“Right, the one from all the way across town.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

By the time Monster Girl was done with the daily villain, Rex and Kate were by the local cafe, sitting in the outside chairs as they waited for her to finally come over and join the conversation, which wasn't all that much to begin with.

 

“I would have done something eventually!” Rex defends, pointing a finger at Kate. “He’s the lowest F-tier villain around here. I was letting him get his fame on.”

 

“Right.” Kate leans back in her seat, taking a sip of her coffee. “You would have eventually. Not at the moment? Not while he's throwing a table or two?”

 

“Fuck you.” He glares as Amanda takes a seat, back in her normal form.

 

“Can you guys argue later?” Amanda sighs, leaning slightly on the table. “My body is already convulsing from the arguing you two are doing.”

 

Rex almost responded with a childish comeback, something along the lines of ‘she started it,’ but quickly found himself not in the mood to start or continue an argument that was going to go on the petty list anyway. With a grunt, he crosses his arms and turns his gaze away, brows twitching. Kate glares at him, waiting. Amanda looks between them, silently expecting one of them to talk soon or maybe start fighting. Either one would be fine.

 

“Okay,” Kate mumbles, unaware of a shorter person walking up behind her, “what's wrong? Am I going to have to comfort you again?”

 

“No.” He grits his teeth, then nearly rolls his eyes when a fourth and final person joins them. “Hey, Rob– Rudy.”

 

Rudy Connors, that's what his name is. A simple guy he's known for years helped form the Teen Team and build a characteristic relationship between him, Eve, and Kate. Nothing too bad, overall a great guy. Except recently, probably a month ago at this point, he shows up to the Teen Team Base with Rex's teen face, hair, and body. Not the most ideal way to start a morning, and he lost it a little. By a little, it was actually a lot. Rex went off for an entire hour, with Eve or Kate having to be the one to calm him down or send him on a walk so he wouldn't completely lose it on Rudy. He's still not over it; DNA being stolen without his permission and making a younger clone of him to use as a new body left a really weird nerve.

 

“Hello, Rex. Kate, Amanda.” Rudy lists everyone by name, specifically smiling at Amanda, who smiles back. The darker redhead groans, leaning away as much as possible.

 

“Alright, enough bullshit.” Kate waves her hand in front of Rex. “What's with you? I can tell when you're having a bad day, you know?”

 

“Oh, you know,” he mocks, barely taking her seriously, “thinking back to the times I had scraps for dinner as a kid before I was sold and trained by the government.”

 

Rudy and Amanda exchanged worried glances, while Kate quietly scowled at him. She roughly smacks him against his shoulder, brows furrowed in anger.

 

“I'm serious, Rex. I'm trying to be helpful here.”

 

Rex's leg begins to bounce, quiet for only a moment longer until he eventually breaks.

 

“Went back to the Pentagon. Still nothing.”

 

He refuses to tell anyone about the inner pain in his arms as of late.

 

“Ah.” The brunette across the table slightly chuckled, tapping her pale fingers on the dark surface of the table. “Wonder Boy is still missing?”

 

“He's not missing.”

 

“Not being on Earth with no sign of him is kind of missing.”

 

The hero slouches in his chair, basically pouting at this point. Rudy clears his throat, nervously looking between the three individuals.

 

“It would be a rough journey to go on without the proper materials for travel.” He attempts to comfort, very limited on what he should say. “Mark might have stopped by other planets on the way there.”

 

With how hardheaded he could be, Rex doubts that entirely. He knows all too well that's a blissful lie.

 

“Or gotten lost and is dead out in space, and we'll never know because Cecil won't– ow!”

 

Rex jolts when Kate hits him again, this time harder than last time.

 

“The attitude you have isn't going to speed up the process.” She reminds him, placing her drink down. “You're obviously allowed to be worried and angry, but the constant striving to go out of your way and check every single minute if he's back is only going to stress you out even more than you already are.”

 

Kate reaches over and tugs at the strand of hair that always hung in front of his forehead. “You're going to give yourself grey hairs before you know it.”

 

He hisses, smacking her hand away. “Okay, okay! Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get caught up in my own shit.”

 

“Already do that.” Amanda chuckles. “But yeah, I get it, man. Really. But seeing you so stressed makes me sad. Which is why I think…”

 

Rex raises a brow as the paler girl leans in, grinning, with Rudy carefully watching her movements.

 

“Let's have a hangout night.” She chimes, pushing herself back. “Like, seriously. We haven't actually gotten to hang out since that little run-in at Machine Head’s penthouse. I can still barely feel my face, but that happens sometimes, you know?”

 

Rex isn't the type to turn down a party, no matter how big or small, and this wasn't going to be any different. Even if he's worried about Mark, he'll focus on the more positive stuff until he wakes up tomorrow and goes straight back to the Pentagon like usual.

 

“Alright! I'm in!” He snickers, his face now lighter than before. “As long as we’ve got booze, you know I'll be there anytime… are we going to invite the newbie along, or can Martians not have alcohol?”

 

“We shouldn't isolate him from events.” Rudy speaks up, fidgeting with his hands. “He’s still new to this world, Rex. We were assigned as his team.”

 

“For some fucking reason.” Rex frowns. “Why pick us, anyway?”

 

“Probably because Martian Man knows us.” Amanda mentions, shrugging. “Or, well, you at least. I kind of like him, though; Shapesmith is pretty cool.”

 

“Whatever, just be sure to call Zandale, too. By the way, where is that frozen-pizza-loving freak?” Rex questions. They assigned days to each person on who would be teaching Shapesmith “the ropes” on hero work. Luckily for Rex, today wasn't his day.

 

“We left him to stop a bank robbery a block down.” Amanda stands, looking at Rudy. “We should probably go check on him and see if he's got everything under control.”

 

The mini group gathered their things and began to head off, but Kate grabbed Rex's arm and pulled him back, hanging a little behind the shorter duo in front of them. Neither of them seemed to notice: Amanda was too busy showing Rudy something on her phone to pay attention to the other heroes behind them.

 

“Listen,” Kate leans in, her voice barely above a whisper, “I understand how you feel, alright? It's not easy to think about someone you care about being in possible danger and never even knowing where they are.”

 

Rex sheepishly glances at her, his face falling. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not trying to give everyone shit this time.”

 

“Neither am I.” She slings an arm across Rex’s shoulders and shakes him a bit. “But remember, we've known each other for a while, Rex. Back then, I used to be taller than you.”

 

“Christmas days.” Rex teases, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

 

Everything will be fine. He’ll be back any day now.

 

____

 

Eve takes a deep breath and quietly knocks on the wooden door of the blue house. She takes a step back, peeking around the old neighborhood she knew all too well, seeing not much has changed besides maybe a new neighbor or two. She looks behind her at one of the familiar houses and pouts. It's been years, but a part of her still misses Val.

 

The other side of the door clicks, and the one who opens it brightens when she sees the redhead in front of her with a weary smile.

 

“Samantha!”

 

“Hey, Mom.”

 

The older woman steps forward and quickly pulls the redhead into a hug. Eve does the same, smiling softly at the tender embrace of her mother. Even when things weren't in her best interests, she could always count on her mother's hugs to make her feel slightly better.

 

“Come in! Come in!” Betsy steps away, gently taking her daughter's hands and pulling her inside. Eve happily follows, glancing at the empty driveway of the home. Hopefully, she'll have enough time to chat with her mother without her father intruding and ruining her afternoon like he somehow always managed to do.

 

“Sorry for the unexpected visit,” Eve chuckles as Betsy closes the front door, “I just wanted to check on you.”

 

“I've been okay!” She beams, her tired eyes shining when she looks at Eve again. “You can always come over, sweetie. You know you're always welcome to come back.”

 

A tight, forced smile naturally formed on her lips, the younger man chuckling nervously as she followed her mom towards the dining room area. “Yeah, I know. I've just been so busy lately, you know–”

 

“Oh, yes.” Betsy pulls a seat out for herself as Eve rounds to the other side. “I've heard a lot of criminal activity has picked up in a few places.”

 

Eve silently nods, sitting down and meeting eyes with Betsy from across the table. “Yeah, but it's not just that. I've been dealing with a lot of natural disasters and rescues out in the wilderness, too.”

 

She was hoping her mother would remember that about her; breaking off from Teen Team wasn't easy, but it felt necessary. Being out of the city and helping others that truly needed it is what made her feel good. Ever since she went to the helping center with Amber, it really showed her the true world of what's happening around her, in and out of hero work. It was already hard enough she had to break the news to Teen Team, then her parents. A sudden shift in routine, yet an absolutely necessary one.

 

“Oh! Oh, yes.” Betsy giggles, brushing her hand through her short hair. “I know, I remember. How is that going? How is the new place?”

 

The younger woman’s mouth twitches in a small smile. “It’s good! I love being out there and meeting other people with different experiences–”

 

The redhead pauses when she notices a shift in her mother's demeanor, who moved her worn-out eyes on the shiny surface of her table. Their relationship was rough at times, but Eve knew her better than anyone else, even her dad. She sighs and reaches across the table, gently grabbing the older woman’s hand. Betsy’s head snaps up, slightly surprised.

 

“I'm okay, sweetie.” Betsy lightly waves, her smile faltering. Immediate reassurance already told Eve enough that she wasn't okay.

 

“Mom, it's me.” Eve soothes, brows lowered in a sympathetic expression. “You can talk to me; it's okay.”

 

Her mother sighs, her lower lip slightly trembling. “We just miss you, Samantha. The house feels so empty without you here.”

 

Shit. “I know, Mom. But it was for the better. You know Dad and I can never just… see eye to eye, you know? I'll always come and see you, but things just need to stay this way.”

 

She wanted to say “for everyone's sake,” but really, it was for hers. Eve loves her parents; she loves her mom more than anything. But the constant fights, arguments, and wanting to be anywhere else but here were taking a toll on her. It's been a constant fight since she was a kid, ever since she got her powers and her parents– her own dad– thought of her as abnormal compared to other children. And when she finally broke the news of officially departing from Teen Team, it only got worse from there.

 

“He misses you, too.” Betsy’s hand tightens around Eve's. “I know he can be… a lot, but you're still his daughter, and he loves you.”

 

Her eyes move away from her Mom. “I know. I still love him too, but it's easier if we live separate lives.”

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say. Eve wishes things didn't turn out this way; even so, Eve’s family was the most important thing to her. The younger woman clears her throat and returns her warm smile.

 

“Let me put on some tea.” She stands, slowly pulling away from the familiar hand. “Then we can talk about whatever we want, okay?”

 

“I didn't mean to ruin the mood.” Betsy silently comments as Eve walks her way over to the kitchen. “I just miss seeing you everyday.”

 

She quietly swallows, taking out the materials that she needed. “I do too. I promise I'll try texting and calling you more.”

 

Betsy nods, steadily watching Eve. “You're too good for me.”

 

Eve spends the next couple of minutes preparing nice, warm tea for the two of them. It was nice– days like this where she didn't feel like she needed to worry. Yet, besides the worried glances out the window, something else entirely lingered on Eve’s mind. As much as she tried to push it down, it was obvious on her face something else was bothering her as well.

 

“Samantha?” Betsy reaches out to Eve, gently taking her chin in her hand. “Are you okay, dear?”

 

The younger woman blinks. “Well, Mom, something did–”

 

The front door clicks open, and heavy, familiar footsteps approach the inside of the kitchen. Eve can already feel the angry pulse pounding against her skull as the man she didn't want to see comes inside, his dark eyes widening when he sees the redhead at the table.

 

“Oh, look who decided to come back.” Adam crosses his arms, scowling at his daughter. Eve angrily frowns and stands, abandoning her cup on the table. “Nature wasn't good enough for you?”

 

“I was only checking on Mom.” Eve doesn't look at him, already heading for the door. “I'll be leaving.”

 

“Oh, there she goes again!” Adam dramatically announces, his body turning as Eve walks past him. “Leaving her family to tend to some hero work that doesn't get her anywhere in life!”

 

Eve tries– wants– to ignore him. He's always been like this; controlling, demanding, and always needing the last word.

“Not even a hi?!”

 

But he makes it hard to push away that loud, rough voice. Eve turns and faces the older man.

 

“The first thing you say when you come in is to sprout some witty comment that isn't even true!” Eve points out, pointing a finger at his face. “And you want me to say hi? I'm not in the mood for this.”

 

He must have gotten off work early or came over during his lunch break. Either way, it was unfortunate timing on both of their parts, and Eve wasn't ready to face him again after her departure, yet here they are in a wretched circumstance. Just as the redhead turns to head towards the door, the man verbally comes after her, determined to stop her from leaving.

 

“Oh no, you don't!” Adam growls, hands clenched. “You want to run away again?!”

 

“I didn't run away!” Eve’s fingers curled to the center of her palm, trying to keep her cool. “I told you where I was going and why! Why is that so difficult for you to understand?!”

 

“Adam!” Betsy appears behind her husband, trying to get him to stop, but Adam ignores her.

 

“Alone doing some bullshit hero work.” The gruff man places his hands on his hips. “Anything could happen to you! But you're so determined to be proven right–”

 

“That's not it!”

 

“–that you go on ahead and disband from a team, which I only agreed to because you had Rex to take care of you, and make some off-brand name for yourself that no one is even going to see!”

 

Oh, here they go. “You’re still hung up on the whole Teen Team thing?!”

 

“Like I said, we only agreed to it because of–”

 

“I can take care of myself.” Eve grits her teeth, inhaling deeply. “And do I have to remind you Rex and I broke up over a year ago?! We’ve been living separate lives for a while–”

 

“Take him back.”

 

“What?!”

 

This was getting ridiculous. Eve never gets anywhere with her old man, even if she comes up with the most logical answer she could give him.

 

“His job was supposed to protect you!” Adam exclaims, his voice raising. Betsy gently pulls at his shirt sleeve, but he ignores her. The redhead shakes her head, fists balling.

 

“I have more things to worry about.”

 

“Like what? You never faced a day of hardship in your life!”

 

Eve straightens in her stance, blinking away tears. She would never say too much of everything they never need to know, but it still hurts whenever he doubts her independence or all the bad things she’s been through. From the moment she was born to the night of discovering her biological family, Eve has been in her own whirlwind of heartbreak and worry.

 

And that day, two months ago, wasn’t any different.

 

“My friends got hurt.” Eve sniffs. “One of them is currently missing! I’m trying to keep it together, and you’re not helping!”

 

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off!” Adam bites, unaffected by his daughter’s feelings. Eve takes a deep breath and turns around, making her way over to the front door. She didn’t bother to mutter another word; the young woman flung open the door, a pink flare glowing at the bottom of her palms and shoes, then she was off in the sky, a small trail of tears following behind her until she finally reached the small space she called home.

 

Eve lands on the wood boards of her home and sighs, scratching the side of her neck as she takes a decent look at the comfortable place. Still clean, still sturdy, still the same as before. The hero gradually walks over to her bed and flops down, sitting with her elbows on her knees and palms resting on her pale cheeks. She knew going to her childhood home could be a certified death trap, but she misses her mom and, unfortunately, misses her dad sometimes.

 

“Why do you always have to make it so hard?” She mumbles to herself, her hands traveling to her eyes. She almost wanted to cry again, but a familiar voice brought her out of her trance with a high, happy yell from the ground below.

 

“Eve! You in there?”

 

The redhead sits straight, surprised to hear the soft voice here of all places. She quickly stands and walks over to the edge of her treehouse, glancing down and seeing a pale brunette looking up at her from the grassy greens.

 

“You know,” she laughs, blocking the sun out of her eyes with her hand, “it's pretty hard to find your place if you're really not paying attention.”

 

“Rae!” Eve smiles, lifting her hand and immediately forming a staircase in front of the other woman. “What are you doing here? Thought you'd be at the base for a couple more days.”

 

“My legs already feel as good as new.” They joke, tapping their shoe against the new wooden stairs, then start to ascend up. “Can't say much for the arm.”

 

Unfortunately, that was true. Rae’s right arm was still tucked into a cast, as the bone had been snapped two months ago, and despite the GDA’s technology, they could only do so much before they had to let the bone heal on its own. On the brighter side, she's been making amazing improvement; everyone expects her to be completely healed any day now.

 

“At least your sling is cute.” Eve half-shrugs, looking at the pink arm sling around Rae's upper torso. “Why are you all the way out here?”

 

When Rae reaches the top, she taps her chin and thinks. “Well, you always come and see me. I thought it'd be a nice change to come and see you.”

 

“I'm flattered.” She chuckles, leading the other woman over to her mini living room area. “But you better be telling the truth when you say your leg is completely healed.”

 

“Hey, I said it feels as good as new,” Rae holds up their good hand, smirking, “you chose to believe the other thing.”

 

The women laugh and soon take a seat on the soft purple cushions. Eve’s hand sparks and two drinks appear in front of them. Rae gladly takes out and sits back, letting her back rest against the back of the couch, while Eve stays as she is, sitting up straight with one leg crossed over the other.

 

“So,” Rae brings the drink to her lips, “how’s it going for you?”

 

Eve nervously chuckles, holding the drink with two hands. “Nothing much. I didn't really– oh, wait! I went by the old construction site and helped a few workers move things around.”

 

Some were less happy than others, but she decided to keep that part out.

 

“Oh, nice!” Rae beams, tilting her head. “Let me guess; uhh, that old building by the market in Chicago?”

 

The redhead nods. “It's been out of disbursement for a while until recently, but unfortunately, I don't think the person who bought it had a good idea of what they were trying to replicate when giving the employees the blueprint.”

 

The brunette snickers, her knee slightly close to Eve’s. “I heard they do that sometimes. Like, ‘Oh I'm gonna buy this place! Oh wait, I'm not sure what to do with it.’ Is that a Chicago thing, or do all investors just suck at their job?”

 

“Maybe a bit of both.”

 

Eve feels her chest lighten, the sorrow from earlier driftingly disappearing into a sightless mist the more she and Rae talked. They clicked at the party where they first met, more like the after-party after Rex got his ass kicked. Turns out, Rae was an easy person to talk to and get along with, even if they seemed a bit shut-off at times. But things never felt tense when she was with her, and Eve couldn't help but helplessly want to be around that more.

 

“Normally I'd be worried about your arm or leg,” Eve was slouching now, hair brushed against the wall of the couch, “but honestly, I have to thank you for coming over, Rae.”

 

The other woman’s eyes slightly widened, and she looked away, a shy smile plastered on her face. “Thanks. Like I said, I thought it'd be a nice change to come and see you for once. Plus, as much as I love your little base and all, the crew can get really rowdy.”

 

“Let me guess; Rex?”

 

“Him, Shapesmith, and sometimes Amanda.”

 

“I sometimes forget about Shapesmith.” Eve admits, twirling her drink in her hand. “He seems nice, though.”

 

“Rex thinks the opposite.”

 

“That's totally like him.”

 

Then again, thinking deeply on it, it makes sense Rex was less inclined to include a new member of the team after what happened two months ago. When Amanda and Rae started to be included in their line of work more, Rex said they were, in his words, “unofficially officially on the team.” It was during a better and brighter time; now it's…

 

“He'll warm up to him.” She wearily smiles. “Eventually. When, uh, Mark… comes back.”

 

She didn't know how else to word it, but it was true. Rex will loosen up when Mark is home and there's no more worrying.

 

That's easier said than done.

 

“Eve?”

 

“Oh?” Eve’s head snaps up. “Sorry, did you say something?”

 

“I asked if you were alright.” Rae's face was decorated in worry now, slowly sitting up. “You okay? You seem, um, a bit upset when you brought up Mark.”

 

She opens her mouth, trying to think of what words to say, make up an excuse, or say it was something else that caught her mind. But instead, her voice was nothing but a blur line that was easy to miss. The redhead turns her head, a little embarrassed at how quickly she changed the mood.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Rae shakes their head. “Nah, it's okay. If it makes you feel better, I miss him too. My dear Seance Dog buddy.”

 

She snorts at that. “I've known him for a long time because of Rex; I wish I wasn't surprised about him just… going off, but he was pretty upset over it for a while.”

 

She didn't know too much about Thraxa or whatever Mark had called it, but he mentioned it once or twice before the Machine Head incident. He did seem pretty determined to go, bringing it up a couple of times when they went out patrolling. Eve tried telling him it'll be okay and everything will be fine, but even she was unaware of the lengths Mark will go to get what he wants; as it was the first time he's ever disobeyed Cecil.

 

“I can see that.” The brunette frowns, putting their drink down and sighing. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I did kind of catch that detail about him a while ago. You know, new hero and all that?”

 

“Really?”

 

Rae nods. “It's, uh, a complicated process. You remember that, right? Becoming a hero for the first time?”

 

“Well,” Eve slightly blushes, rubbing her arm, “I guess I was actually pretty excited when I found out I had powers and could do all that stuff. It was more of a private moment for me, if anything.”

 

Rae snaps their fingers and points at Eve. “Exactly. And, well, he was waaaaaay more determined to prove himself than I thought. Which reminds me, do you know why that government agency didn't send him out into the real world sooner? They seem the type to do that.”

 

Eve narrowly looks at the floor. “It's a long story, not really mine to tell.”

 

“Oh, shit.” Rae awkwardly tangles a finger in her curly hair. “Sorry about that. Normally, people and the government are so quick to send out super-people into the field without a cup of Joe. Guess Mark needed more observing.”

 

It was more complicated than that. Even to this day, Eve didn't have the full picture, and she never wanted to ask because she knows what it's like to feel the pain of something so deep and confusing and unable to tell anyone without getting emotional. The redhead shifts in her seat and faces Rae, gentle eyes resting on the other woman.

 

“Yeah, but you've heard it before; he's been wanting to do this stuff since he was a kid.”

 

“And now he freeballs like one.”

 

The pink hero smiles. “I guess we all just… get excited when we discover what we can do, especially with stuff such as this.” She mentions, snapping her fingers, and a pink spark flicks in their vision for a second. She thinks back to the day she turned her science book into a structural glass design, how innocent and naive she was back then.

 

Rae shrugs. “More or… less. Everyone is different. Suddenly you're less focused on school–”

 

“And the gravity of the situation–”

 

“And what else can your body do–”

 

“And the point where you think you're just going through really weird puberty.”

 

The two women laugh. Eve tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks heat up.

 

“You really seem to know your stuff.” Eve jokes, resting her arm on the back of the couch, almost an attempt to hide her cherry-red face. Rae shrugs, obviously flattered.

 

“Guess you could say it's from my own experience with dealing with shitty powers.”

 

Eve’s expression falters. Rae quickly sits straight, eyes wide.

 

“Oh wait, I didn't mean it like that. I swear I got off lightly compared to–”

 

Eve giggles. “Rae, Rae, it's okay. You can be honest with me.”

 

Rae’s lip twitches, brushing her curly hair back. “Uh, yeah, I know. You've seen my leg cut open; that's worth as much honesty as I can give out.”

 

The redhead laughs, leaning her head on her arm. “Your sense of humor never ceases to amaze me.”

 

“I try to do that.” Rae humors. “Growing up as the oldest kind does that.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I don't know, actually.”

 

Another laugh. “Okay, fair enough.”

 

The brunette snickers. “So, on a lighter note, wanna hear about how I caught my sister trying to take my dresses in the middle of the night?”

 

Just as Eve was about to reply, her phone buzzed to life, alerting her of a message. She digs into her pocket, and her brow arches. Rae notices her change of expression and leans in, curiosity sparking her.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Hm… You up for a party tonight?”

 

____

 

“There she is! Star of the show!”

 

Rex is quick to abandon his ping pong with Amanda, tossing the red racket and making his way over to the redhead and the brunette beside her. Rae gives a little wave before walking past to greet the others inside the base. The pink hero perks up and takes a step forward, instantly embracing the taller man once he closes in on her.

 

“Star of the show? Is this for me?” She playfully questions, looking behind Rex. Kate and her clones were just leaving the ping pong table and being replaced by Amanda and Rudy; the clone looked a little unsure of the material at hand, but Amanda seemed to be explaining everything already. Rae was already holding a conversation with Zandale, who wore casual attire and sunglasses inside for some odd reason. Shapesmith, the new guy, was eating a frozen pizza when the duplicated hero went over to him and seemingly asked him something, which he only responded to with a tilt of his head.

 

“It's for all of us,” Rex pats her shoulder as he pulls away, “but you get special privileges because you're the coolest one here.”

 

Eve smirks and follows him over to one of the couches. “Thanks, but I don't think I am. Rae is right there.”

 

“Rae is right there.” He sheepishly repeats. “Rae was at your treehouse?”

 

She nods. He smirks.

 

“Nice.”

 

“You're making a face.”

 

“I always make a face.”

 

The duo sit as the miniature party goes on. The music was decent, definitely not hand-picked by Rex, and someone (most likely Kate or Rudy) actually got some snacks lying around the tables. Rex crosses one leg over the other and rests his arms on the back of the furniture. Eve crisscrosses and leans back, still looking over at Rex.

 

“I have a feeling you went back to the Pentagon.”

 

“Something tells me you went to go visit your mom.”

 

Touché.

 

“You know it.” Eve grims, brushing her red hair back. “Only for Mom, as usual, but Dad came home early.”

 

The darker redhead smacks his lips together. “Want me to blow up his car?”

 

“Rex!”

 

“You know I'll do it.”

 

She couldn't help but giggle. “I appreciate it, but no, don't do that. I can handle myself.”

 

“I know too well you can.” He chuckles, rolling his shoulders. “Sorry about that, though.”

 

She quietly nods. “Still no update?”

 

He shakes his head. “As usual. Starting to think they're only using their super technology to monitor the Earth's core.”

 

The redhead frowns. “They're doing the best they can, Rex.”

 

He doesn't reply to that. “Shit, uh, no depressed stuff. Can I say your top makes you look great?”

 

“My very basic tank top?” Eve arches a brow, taking a glance at her shirt. “I just put on a quick outfit for this occasion.”

 

“And it looks great.”

 

They talk for some time, mostly Rex complaining about Elephant Man from earlier that day and Eve mentioning Kill Cannon’s temper tantrum the other day. They were lost in their own conversation for a while until Amanda caught their attention, who was waving them over.

 

“Is this some sort of announcement?” Rex asks when the two of them are by the others, who were all holding a cup of the wine Kate bought before the party.

 

“Sort of?” The shorter woman shrugs a little, chuckling. “I was gonna do a little celebration thing where I'm like, ‘to everyone's fourth favorite team in the whole world’ and then we all cheer and drink. You know, as a token of gratitude for letting us join and everything.”

 

Eve gently smiles, taking a cup in hand. “That's sweet, Amanda. You didn't have to organize that.”

 

“Felt like I should.” She smiles back. “You guys took care of me when I… you know, had that really bad concussion and couldn't see out of my eye for two weeks.”

 

Rudy takes a step forward and gently places a hand on her upper arm. “It was a rough time, but you pulled through amazingly.”

 

They smile at each other. Rex looks away to roll his eyes, unamused. He's never forgiving that prick for taking his DNA without his permission.

 

“Recovered like a champ.” Zandale holds up his drink, smirking. “Your face was torn open and everything.”

 

“That white lion was brutal.” Rae nods. “Honestly, I'm surprised my spine kept intact.”

 

“Some of these villains sound threatening.” Shapesmith finally butted in. “Throwing them into a trash can always works!”

 

“He was bigger than a trash can, but okay.” Rex mumbles, holding his glass close to his lips. Eve elbows him, brows knitted.

 

“Anywho,” Amanda holds up her drink, “to honor the cheesiness of our entire friend group, I say we cheer for the name… to Teen Team!”

 

“To Teen Team!”

 

Once everyone gets a swing in, Zandale cautiously gazes around the group of heroes and starts to speak.

 

“So, no offense,” he starts off, shaking his drink a little, “but are we still going with Teen Team? I'm a grown ass man, as well as everyone here being grown ass adults. A change would give people a better idea of who we are.”

 

“He's right.” Rae agrees, looking at the others. “We definitely need a new name.”

 

Rex grins and holds out his hands. “Rex and Explosions! Rex and his exes! Rex Splode and a bunch of other people whose names you don't really need to know!”

 

“This is why we never let you name anything.” Eve rolls her eyes, unamused.

 

“What? I'm just giving the people what they–”

 

The lighthearted joke died down when a loud crash came from within one of the rooms. Everyone freezes, shooting their wide gazes at the dull door on the other side of the room. Eve wastes no time; she immediately flies over to the door and stands on the other side, palms glowing pink, stance ready. She hears the others behind her, ready at her wake. She listens for a moment longer, hearing a muffled voice inside followed by something else she couldn't make out.

 

With a scowl, the door glows pink and shatters into nothingness. Eve rushes inside, ready to take care of the matter at hand.

Notes:

Me projecting my head canons onto the characters in this au because I'm bored

Also, before the notes rant, please check out zhinchino's fanart of the fic!!

https://www.instagram.com/p/DK4PiasT5pk/?img_index=1&igsh=eGRtY3Q4bmY4bnA2

Genuinely made my day when they notified me of this! It's so cute! And I absolutely love the doodle of the difference between the GDA Mark variants 😆

Reminds me, also check out @agentinvincible / Ruby on TikTok!! They have all kinds of fanart of my fic too!! Please guys these make me cry ty ty ty <333

Anywho!!
~Lowkey I hate Eve's dad I wanted to say that first
~Ngl I don't like Kate. Like, at all. Both show and comic series (ESPECIALLY comic series Kate like omg girl I'll fucking get you) BUT I genuinely feel like her writing was wasted material, especially with her backstory, her brother, and her relationships with the team she's known since she was a teenager :/ they just kinda threw her in to ruin a relationship (technically Rex's fault first tbh) and then pair her up with Immortal and then build up drama with her team that she's known longer. Her character could have been waaaaaay more impactful if the writers actually focused on her better and fixed her like they did with majority of the characters already.... Yes I'm ranting sorry sorry I just hate that I hate her character that could have been interesting (also no I'm not pairing her with Immortal Nuh uh not in this universe)
~Speaking of Kate, I also feel the same towards Bulletproof. Bro had potential, then he got weird in the comics, and now he's like... Barely there in the show. He has a cool ass power, he should be included more. Like, he's definitely not a main character here obviously, but I also think he has potential. All the characters have potential... Except Adam, I hate Adam
~I love Shapesmith, and at first I had a hard time including him in this story, but then Martian Man is still alive, and they're both Martians, and Rex is like... 1% in involved with him so... New buddy addition!! He can shape shift!! I love my alien dude (this is also for my friend lol)
~EveRae wlw content... Guys please follow in my agenda there's so much potential for them please please I love them please
~For the last part, I combined this chapter for both Eve and Rex because ngl their stories, while not entirely the same, are decently similar and I still want to include Eve and Mark's relationship more into this au, even if they're not romantic at all. And for Rex, well... I got plans for that guy! I've already written some of it in the past but now we're approaching more territory that I can't wait to write... *Suspiciously rubs hands together*

That's all for today! Thank you all again for reading, your comments last chapter were so tasty to read I was lowkey kicking my feet in joy

Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen

Summary:

“Babies do that.” He shrugs. “Now do you like him?”

 

“Maybe a little.” His nonchalant face returns, already rejecting the joyful look he had a second ago. “He's not bad for being your brother.”

 

“My poor feelings.”

Notes:

I'm back... On with the yaoi

Jk... No I'm not, but this chapter was fun to write :) not much to say at this part, hope you enjoy the chapter!

One step. Two steps. Three steps. One more, and the block was placed down.

 

The black-haired man stands and places his pale hand on the hard, purple material. It was smoother than it looked and wasn't exactly the warmest feeling in the world, but he could always see why the Thraxans preferred these pieces for their artifacts. He looks around the quiet area, seeing everything has finally looked more in place than ever. It took a while for everything to get in order, but now the results are coming in, and they aren't half bad.

 

Mark takes a step back and smiles, placing his knuckles on his hips to admire his work. He never imagined doing construction, but he could definitely do some heavy work and be real damn good at it.

 

“Mark Grayson!”

 

The familiar voice of Nuolzot echoed from behind him. The taller foreigner turns and looks down at the old blue bug, whose lighter red eyes beamed at the sight of the younger man. He was older than he was when Mark first met him, and he couldn't help but feel a little sorrowful that soon, he would no longer be among the rest of the Thraxans.

 

“Oh, hey! Nuolzot!” Mark waves. He jumps up and flies down to the Thraxan, swiftly landing in front of him.

 

“I have good news!” Nuolzot chatters, smiling brightly. “We completed a ship to take you home! You can return to your planet and your center for learning and drink.”

 

Mark awkwardly scratches the back of his head, his expression changing. “Um, thanks, but I can't go yet. There's still so much to do.”

 

The insectoid shook his head. “Oh, the city will be whole again soon. Your people must need your strength.”

 

“Eh,” Mark snickers, “there's tons of heroes on Earth. I'm sure they’ve got it covered.”

 

He wasn't wrong. There were plenty of great heroes on Earth that knew when to get the job done. He trusted Cecil and the Guardians to cover everything until he got back.

 

Nuolzot shrugs. “I'm sure you know your planet best.”

 

Just as Mark was about to reply, a shade of yellow catches his eye. Andressa makes her way over to the two men, her old shoulders slouched slightly and her hands held together. She kept her usual smile as she walked up to Mark, head held high.

 

The other mantis-like being bows his head. “Empress.”

 

She turns her gaze to him. “Nuolzot, did you give Mark the news?”

 

“I thought he'd be more pleased; humans are very confusing.”

 

The taller man quickly holds up his hands. “I am pleased! Yeah, really, I want to see Cecil and my friends,” his smile drops, “but there's more to do here and I–”

 

“You've helped enough.”

 

Andressa cuts in, her antenna twitching. “It's time you return home, but there is something else I must ask of you.”

 

She inhales sharply, her quivering voice after.

 

“Take your brother with you– home to Earth.”

 

Mark's eyebrows rise as he gasps, turning and seeing another Thraxan holding the blue insect-humanoid infant in their arms.

 

Mark turns back, shock held high on his face. “What? What are you talking about? You're his mom.”

 

“Mark,” her head lowers, “look at me. Look how much older I am than when you first arrived.”

 

It was true, Mark couldn't deny that; she looked older than Cecil the more Mark looked at her. The baby aged slower compared to them. By now, if he were a full Thraxan, he'd probably be an adult and only be considered a couple of months older than Mark in human years.

 

Andressa walks over to the servant and gently takes him in her arms. He opens his eyes and yawns, looking up at the older insectoid. He coos and reaches up to touch her chin.

 

“Your brother ages quicker than you, but far slower than my people.” She comments, holding him close to her chest as if she didn't want to let him go. “I'll be gone before he can form a sentence.”

 

“When Nolan was here, that was fine. He could be raised by his father…” Andressa was barely keeping it together, her lips beginning to tremble. “Then He left before he was even born. Now, everyone he knows here will soon be dead. Generations will pass before he's even an adult.”

 

The pale man looks down at his brother and sighs. The baby smiles up at him, happy to see his older sibling. It struck something in Mark– the need to take him and keep him safe. Away from Him, away from the Empire.

 

“What mother would abandon him to a life like that?”

 

For a moment, Mark could see the warm and tender hug of his own mother behind him, telling him he's doing great, he's a hero, and she'll always be proud of him. His eyes water, his new fangs chunking down on the lower part of his teeth.

 

“My… Cecil was worried about that for me, too.” He says quietly. In a way, he wasn't wrong. Cecil always loomed over the worst for Mark in case something ever happened to him. Even if everyone else was there, he would be gone, leaving Mark alone again. It reminded him how long he'll actually live, with the fact he hasn't told anyone yet, and it scared him even more.

 

“You changed me, Mark.” Andressa finally looks at him with wet, red eyes. “I see life now on a longer scale than most Thraxans… but to me, your centuries are still just a concept.”

 

She brushes a two-fingered hand over the baby's black hair. “To you and your brother, it's the life you must live.”

 

“I just keep hoping everything is going to be okay.” He finally admits. Mark hasn't felt good in a long time, not since the brutal battle with Lucan, Vidor, and Thula. Then meeting Him again only left his old wounds to bleed once more.

 

“I hope that too.”

 

The empress frowns. “That's another reason why you must go home. He'll come searching for you.”

 

Mark feels his body tense.

 

“My time with Nolan was special before He left. But He will know my life has run its course. If you are not there by the time He arrives, He may… you already know.”

 

She leans down and presses her lips on the side of her son's head. The baby coos again, his own antenna drappling against her face in a fun, happy manner.

 

“Remember me, child.” Andressa whispers. “Someday, I hope you'll understand why I had to let you go.”

 

Mark’s arms shakily extend out as Andressa holds out his brother to him.

 

“Please, soon, you'll be all he has… and he will need someone.”

 

Mark thinks back to Cecil again, to the first day that they met. He had no one else to look for during a time of burden and darkness. Then, he was there, and everything was semi-okay. His eyes water as he finally takes his brother in his hands and holds him close, running a pale thumb over his rough cheek.

 

“I'll be sure to do my best.” Mark promises.

 

Never will come close to her embrace again.

 

____

 

“This is a good stop. Thank you.”

 

Mark watches as the door to the shuttle slowly opens and reveals the dark sky of the world he was more familiar with. He turns and waves to the two Thraxans that flew him home, then stands at the edge of the opening and looks down at the blue baby in his arms.

 

“Ready, buddy?”

 

A trail of blabbering followed after the question. The bigger man hums and nods with the infant.

 

Mark hops down and floats just right above the cool sea below. He looks back and watches as the ship zooms up and disappears into the night sky. The black-haired man presses the baby close to his chest and immediately soars up in the dark sky and towards the red bridge that he knew all too well. He stops at the side of the base and looks around, not seeing anything in sight. By the quiet buzzing of the cars below, it may have been empty, as sometimes none of his friends would be here during this hour, usually because of a late-night battle with some mediocre villain, or they're out getting drinks at the local bar. The bartender really needs to start checking their IDs.

 

He tries the door; locked. Great. Most of the time, they always leave the front entrance unlocked for whatever reason, but it is always convenient for Mark if he has to sneak in for something important (either Rex needing him to get something quickly or Kate asking him to check on something she left unattended). It appears like the new members of the team have been breaking that habit. Mark flies up to one of the windows and tests it. Unlocked. Good. The half-human gently slides the window open and floats inside the small room. Luckily for him, it was just the storage room, so he didn't have to worry about accidentally going into one of their bedrooms and catching something inside that he wasn't supposed to see. That happened once, a long time ago, and he refuses to let it happen again.

 

Gently, he places his brother down on one of the drawers and looks around. It's been a while since he's been in this room specifically; he walks over to another drawer and opens it, revealing pictures inside that have been taken over the years. Mark picks up a couple and starts going through them.

 

A lot of them were Teen Team’s winning photos from when they defeated an enemy. An enormous amount contained all four of them together, but some were just three, two, or one of them. Robot didn't exactly have singular photos of himself like the others, as he was less worried about that type of stuff. There are a few of Kate at the fair or a casual hangout with someone else, specifically Eve or sometimes Rex. Eve was stunning in a lot of her photos, always getting a good angle to show off the outlets of her outfits in a playful manner. But as soon as Mark got to Rex's pictures, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He wasn't surprised the majority of them were out-of-suit for the well-known hero, trying to get on his good side on everything. It was cute in a way. Mark liked looking at Rex like this when the guy was simply being a doofus.

 

“Always with the bun.” He quietly chuckles to himself. He's had that look for as long as he can remember, but at least it looked good on him.

 

The last photo nearly made him drop each and every picture, however. At the very bottom was a picture of him and Rex together. They were a bit younger in this one, possibly from when Mark was sixteen, but it was definitely them. They were at the local theater– the night they went to go watch Slasher Five– with Rex and Mark wearing matching outfits to blend in with the mood of the slasher movie. He remembers they asked some random old couple to take the photo for them and scrambled to get into position between the theater and the entrance of the place. It was a fun night; the movie was terrible, and they got to joke about it afterwards.

 

He didn't know Rex still had this.

 

Mark's thoughts were cut short when a loud bang echoed from behind him. He jumps, dropping the photos back in the cabinet, and whips around to see the now broken gadgets lying on the floor in pieces as the baby looks down from on top of the furniture. Mark curses and speeds over, looking down at the baby with furrowed brows, unamused.

 

“Seriously?” He whispers, moving him away from the edge. “You are just like any other baby I've met.”

 

The insectoid hybrids respond with a little giggle. Mark couldn't help but smile.

 

“Don't worry, I'll take the fall for–”

 

The loud crumbling of the evaporating door makes him jump, and his body immediately flares into fight or flight. Instinctively, Mark shields the baby from view as he turns around with his fists held up, baring his teeth at the source of the noise.

 

A familiar redhead with pink sparks dancing at her palms stands at the entrance of the room, eyes wide as she takes in the sight before her. Mark does the same, standing straight when his eyes set on the woman he's known for so long.

 

“Mark?” Eve's powers disappear as Mark awkwardly smiles and waves.

 

“What?!” Another voice comes in from behind her. Mark holds his breath as Rex peeks inside, then pushes past Eve and inside the room when he sees who it is.

 

“Hey,” Mark holds up both hands, “pretty nice to see you both–”

 

Mark's words are caught in his throat when he's immediately squeezed into a hug by the other man. He already knows his cheeks are a different color, but that doesn't bother him in the slightest when the other man's tight grip captivates his body. Rex was hugging him tightly, his face buried into the crook of the other hero's neck. He didn't seem to register the outfit Mark was wearing or the blabbering baby behind him, which he was definitely grateful for. Slowly, Mark's hands found Rex's back and did the same, feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions wash over him as the man's warmth found the familiarity of Mark's body. In a way, this felt like a dream, like he was still back at Thraxa and he would wake up any moment. If that was true, he hopes he never wakes up.

 

“Holy shit, Mark?” He hears Kate say. “You're back– what are you wearing?”

 

“And what's that behind you?” Rae's voice cuts in.

 

Rex pulls away, his hands squeezing the paler arms like he would slip through his grasp once again. His eyes look down at the outfit, then his arms, staring intently for a moment or two before his green eyes finally settle on the blue bundle of joy behind the paler man. Mark nervously smiles when Rex glances back at Mark, a mixture of emotions plastered on his strong face.

 

“Mark?”

 

“It's good to see you.”

 

“What is that?”

 

“Um.”

 

Mark reaches over and gently picks up the soon-to-be toddler and cradles him in his arms. Rex blinks, taking a step back as his eyes dance around the unexpected new face that Mark had unexpectedly brought home.

 

“So,” Mark walks past Rex and over to the door, “it's a long story, like, extremely long. These past couple of months have been–”

 

As soon as he reaches the outside of the storage room, he's immediately greeted with the sight of a younger Rex staring at him in surprise. His eyes widen, jaw slack, as he stares back at the young version of his friend. He blinks once, twice, then looks back to see Rex, his Rex, walk out of the room with a look he couldn't exactly name or call out, but it definitely wasn't positive.

 

“Oh, yeah.” He scoffs. “That's Rudy, aka Robot. The guy stole my DNA and made a younger version of me while you were gone for two months, by the way.”

 

Rudy slightly cringes. “I already said I was–”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Rex pushes past him, grabbing Mark's wrist and pulling him along. The paler man took another glance at Robot, Rudy, then brought his attention back to the front of him, bouncing the baby in one arm. Everyone else followed to the large table in the kitchen area, all taking seats as Mark sat at the very front of the metal furniture. The baby calls for his attention again, reaching up, and Mark responds with a nose boop and a smile. Unnoticed by him, Rex frowns, brows heavily furrowed, arms tightly crossed over his chest.

 

“So,” okay, this was harder than he expected, “first of all, this is… my baby brother.”

 

Gasps bounced all over the table. Yeah, that was expected.

 

“Wait!” Rex leaned over, brows arched in a confused expression. “Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Your brother? An entire brother? As in–?”

 

Mark swallows. “As in… my father's son.” That felt weird to say.

 

“Wait, so your dad is…?” Eve’s eyes darted between Mark and his brother. “Alive?”

 

“His dad?” Rae turns over to Amanda, who shrugs. Rudy clears his throat.

 

“Omni-Man.”

 

“What the fuck?” Zandale looks over at Rudy.

 

“Yes, He was my dad, but I don't consider Him that anymore after He murdered my mother.”

 

Shocked gasps all around the table. Only Rex, Eve, Kate, and Rudy seemed unfazed.

 

Mark carries on. “Enough of that, please. Apparently, He was a refugee at Thraxa, but He supposedly left before I got there. Then, uh…”

 

Mark explained everything from beginning to end. From the entirety of the trip to Thraxa to rebuilding the kingdom that he accidentally broke apart during his fight with the three invading Viltrumites. His voice cracks when he mentions seeing Nolan again, even if it was for a brief time. He knew he was being more open than he would have been with some of the people he wasn't exactly close with, but when he's reminded not everyone knows the true Omni-Man, it strikes a chord in his body that he can't pull out.

 

“Holy shit.” Amanda murmurs, leaning on the table with her pale hand stretched into her brown hair. “So, Omni-Man, your dad, left Earth, got with an alien bug, and then just waited for you to go out there and find him? Holy shit. Holy shit.”

 

“Yeah.” Mark grimaces. He doesn't like to be reminded that Nolan is his father, even if it's true. “And now I have… him to look after.”

 

He looks down at the bug-like baby again. He was chewing on his hand now, taking his attention around the table, looking at everyone that surrounded them.

 

“So, that's it?” Rex tilts his head. “Now we basically have to wait for Omni-Psycho to visit Earth for Thanksgiving dinner?”

 

“I'm hoping it doesn't come to that.” Mark sighs, turning in his seat and gently placing the little guy down. “But, uh, yeah. Kind of.”

 

“My brain is going to explode.” Rae rubs the side of their head. “Viltrumites? Omni-Man? What the hell did I get myself into?”

 

“Yeah, sorry about–”

 

“Where I'm from, we're taught about planet intruders at the very age of two!”

 

A twisted head suddenly pops in front of Mark, wide brown eyes staring back into his. Mark jumps back, his hand over his chest, as he looks the new face up and down. His neck was stretched across the steady surface, two V-shaped hairs standing at the very edge of his hairline. The black-haired man wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at, but he didn't like it. Rex growls and pushes the stranger's neck away, earning a small cry of pain from the stretchy man.

 

“Knock it off, Shapesmith.” He bites, glaring at the other hero. “Some people aren't actually used to your neck stretching like it's a fucking slinky.”

 

“Sorry!” He explains, shrinking his neck back to normal. “I’m just not used to a friendly intruder! Almost unheard of in my world!”

 

“He's not an intruder!” Amanda calls over.

 

“Shapesmith?” Mark chuckles. “How much did I miss while I was gone?”

 

“A couple of things.” Eve snickers. “We got a new teammate, Amanda and Rae are doing better–”

 

Shit, that's right. A lot of things were left unsaid when Mark took off for Thraxa. He opens his mouth to ask them how they were, but a loud squeal catches him first. Shapesmith was now at full attention with the baby, poking at the little guy with much curiosity. Kate, or at least one of her duplicates, was with them as well, keeping him busy with a small baseball glove they kept in the storage room. Mark doesn't remember who that belongs to, but thankfully they had it if his brother was entertained by the thing.

 

“Uh huh, yeah, everything is slightly different.” Rex dramatically rolls his eyes. “Okay, the important part is that you're back, and now we don't need to worry about whether or not you're dead! Win-win for everyone!”

 

Mark blinks. “Were you… worried?”

 

“Wow! My best friend goes off to an alien planet and doesn't come back for over two months! No shit, Sherlock.”

 

Everyone else looks at each other in silence. Eve kicks Rex from under the table, but he ignores her.

 

“I'm going to go get a beer and pretend this was a dream.” Zandale stands, not even daring to look back at the others. Amanda, Kate, and Rudy follow after, Rudy glancing over his shoulder and settling his eyes on the blue baby in the room. Mark doesn't think he's going to get used to Rex's face on someone else.

 

“I'm just gonna… make sure everyone is alright. I'll be back. Promise.” Rae stands, giving a small wave, then disappears with everyone else.

 

“Rex.” Mark glares at his best friend.

 

“Mark.” Rex grits his teeth. Eve's nose scrunches, and she opens her mouth to scold Rex when Mark reaches over and puts his hand on her shoulder.

 

“Actually, let us talk.” Mark says, standing. “Can we talk, Rex?”

 

“Sure, just don't fly off in the middle of it.”

 

Mark frowns but can't bring himself to argue with him. He's silent as he starts to trail after the darker redhead towards the stairs, hoping this doesn't go very poorly. He looks over at the mini group around his brother, seeing how they all already warmed up to the small child with mini pinchers sticking out of his teethless mouth.

 

They make their way outside, into the cool night air. Unfortunately, the clouds were covering the stars, so it wasn't as beautiful as it normally is. Mark rubs the back of his neck, watching as Rex stands by the rails with his arms crossed. He takes a quick measure of Rex's toned arms, then sighs and slowly walks over to the other man.

 

“So, uh,” Mark bites the inner side of his cheek, “on a scale from one to ten, how mad are you?”

 

“Guess.”

 

“Rex.”

 

“Nine.”

 

Okay, it could have been worse. He's standing next to Rex now, looking out into the city. He's nearly forgotten how beautiful the structure of it all can be at the dead of night.

 

“Why not a ten?” He asks with a nervous smile. Rex side-eyes him, trying to look serious, but Mark saw the quick twitch of his lips. Okay, he's not completely pissed.

 

“‘Cause maybe I was a little worried about you.” He half-shrugs, looking at the city. “That's why it's not a ten.”

 

“Lucky me, then.”

 

“Lucky you, yeah. Bringing your brother home with you must be so great. Adding another one to the tree.”

 

Now it was Mark's turn to side-eye Rex. “Obviously I didn't know I had a brother until I got there.”

 

“Crazy how things work.”

 

“Rex, come on.”

 

“…”

 

Mark frowns and elbows him. He elbows back, harder than Mark, which only left the half-human even more bewildered and even a little upset.

 

“Look, I'm sorry I got caught up on Thraxa.” Mark says, taking a step closer to his friend. “But I already told you, I couldn't leave them while their city was basically in shambles. I… caused the mess, so I wanted to fix it.”

 

“It's not that.” The darker redhead looks away. “Not really. Maybe. I don't know; it's just– I thought you were dead, man.”

 

Mark rubs the back of his neck. “You know better than anyone I'm pretty hard to kill.”

 

Rex scoffs. “Yeah, but it's not impossible. You know I don't like to think about that stuff, but going to a different planet with another Viltrumite on it and no chance to communicate back with me? That's bound to give anyone bad thoughts, not just me, and I am basically immune to everything bad these days.”

 

Communicate back with me. That rang a bell in the paler man's head. He couldn't fight back a smile stretching his lips, his newfound fangs poking out. Rex glances at him, arching a brow.

 

“Are you smiling?” He questions, his eye twitching. Mark shakes his head, unable to hide the clear expression.

 

“Sorry, it's just,” he takes a deep breath, “I didn't realize how hung up you were over me. It's kind of funny.”

 

“Funny?” He pouts, unsatisfied. “Yeah, sure, funny– what's up with your teeth?”

 

Oh, he didn't seem to mention that from earlier. “Uh, that's a good question, actually. They appeared after I fought those Viltrumites on Thraxa. Not sure where they came from.”

 

His friend blinks at the new feature, eyes filled with curiosity as they scan over the sharp teeth. He turned his face so he was chest to chest with Mark, taking a step forward. The black-haired man’s smile falters, confused by the man's sudden weird demeanor. He opens his mouth to question when suddenly rough hands grab his jaw and thumbs press against his lips, prying his mouth open and looking closer at the sharper pearls inside. Mark’s brain fries right then and there, his heart rate picking up between his lungs and thumping harshly deep inside him. He feels Rex’s thumb poke at the bottom right fang, and he quickly pulls away, covering his mouth.

 

“Dude?!” Mark feels his heart heat up, beaming pink as he comprehends what just happened.

 

Rex stares for a second, looking at him like he was crazy. Then, his eyes shifted over to Mark's lips, and his eyes widened.

 

“Oh, uh, shit.” Rex coughs into his fist, his eyes finding anything else but Mark to look at. “Sorry, I never expected you with– I mean I just got curious– fuck you this is about you!”

 

“You were the one talking about your feelings.” Mark rolls his eyes, still covering his mouth. “And then started touching my teeth.”

 

The other man turns away, back facing Mark. Even though it was dark, the paler man swore he saw Rex's neck turn a different color. He blinks, then shakes his head. He was tired, definitely imagining things. Definitely.

 

“… Sorry.” Rex sulks. “For the teeth thing. I'm not sorry for being pissed off.”

 

“Yeah… I get it.” Mark bites his lower lip. “I, uh, promise I won't do it next time.”

 

“You also said that about cheating at Uno.”

 

“We were teens!”

 

Rex’s shoulders shifted. Oh, he was laughing. Of course he was laughing.

 

“Okay,” Mark steps forward, removing his hand, “how about this? We can go to the arcade…”

 

Rex slightly turned his head over his shoulder, the small corner of his eye peeking at Mark. “Go on.”

 

“And I pay for everything? Even the claw machines?”

 

“Deal!”

 

Rex spins around with a grin, gently looking at Mark. “And to show my gratitude, I won't get on your ass today for nearly getting yourself killed. Capiche?”

 

Well, it was something. Both of them were head clashers at times, and he knew Rex wasn't going to let this go for a while. But Mark was an expert at cheering the guy up and temporarily getting him off his high horse for some time or so. He knew they'd have to properly talk about it eventually, and Mark needed time to prepare. At least with Rex, he agrees in his own way, and they call it a day from there.

 

Mark was exhausted. Rex must have been exhausted. Mark was stabbed. He almost forgot about that.

 

“So, when are you heading over to the GDA?” Rex questions, scratching the back of his head. “You know, for Cecil? Donald? Maybe even The Guardians?”

 

The hero thinks, rubbing his chin. “Uh, yeah. I should do that… and I will. Tomorrow. I prefer going to sleep right now, to be honest.”

 

“… You're not the real Mark. What did you do to him?”

 

Mark chuckles, rubbing his eye. “I promise it's me.”

 

“I don't believe you.”

 

“When we were kids, you snuck into Donald's office to try and get ahold of his files so you could look up your own information and accidentally blew up his computer when you couldn't figure it out and blamed it on a mishap in the computer's wiring.”

 

“… You know, I still think he suspects it was me.”

 

Donald definitely knew, but he let Rex have a bone that time.

 

“I'll go and see them in the morning.” Mark grims a little, glancing up at the sky. The darker redhead tilts his head, tiredly sighing.

 

“You don't want to face him right now, do you?”

 

“How obvious is that?”

 

Unfortunately, anyone who knows Mark is aware of how he is when facing a man such as Cecil. Mark, despite having gotten into plenty of fights with the older director, was feeling unassertive on seeing the white-haired man tonight. Seeing everyone else was already rough as it was; recognizing how the later conversation will go is enough for his mind to spin, and the lack of water from the last few hours isn't exactly helping with the possible outcomes.

 

“So… my room?”

 

“Whose else?”

 

“Shapesmith’s.”

 

“What?”

 

Rex bursts out in laughter from his friend's reaction. Meanwhile, Mark stared at him in disbelief, flabbergasted by the joke. He nearly didn't comprehend Shapesmith in his head because he just met the guy.

 

“Did you seriously use the new guy for your childish joke?”

 

“Did it work?”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes it did.”

 

He thought the joke was dumb, he really did, but even someone like him couldn't hide the amusement on his face. Rex snickers, patting Mark's shoulder as he walks past.

 

“You fucking love me.”

 

“Swearing doesn't make you cool.”

 

“You fudging love me.”

 

Yeah. He really did.

 

____

 

Rex was kind enough to let a baby crib (specially made by Eve) stay in his room for the night. Well, he wasn't happy about it, but he was pretending to be nice for Mark.

 

“I promise he doesn't really cry.” Mark reassures as he adjusts the waistband around his hips. Rex doesn't say anything, only stares at the blue baby peeking out of the piece, red eyes staring directly at the hero. Mark looks back and smiles. “He's pretty quiet until he's excited.”

 

“He's a baby; I don't trust him.” Rex scoffs, curling his lip upward. “And why can't he sleep in someone else's room?”

 

“He doesn't know anyone else.” Mark reminds his friend, walking over to the bed. He was wearing Rex's pajamas for the night, a typical tank top with plaid blue pajama pants that felt a little too tight on him. “And no one else knows how to care for a baby here.”

 

“No, we don't.” Rex shrugs. He lays back in his bed, arms tucked behind his head, green eyes moving to scan over to his paler friend. “You see the life we live in? Who here has time to look up how to care for an infant that is probably going to start flying at any minute?”

 

Mark shrugs, sitting on the bed, feeling the mattress shift. His fingers curled into the fabric of Rex's pants, pulling the pajamas slightly and exposing the upper part of his ankle. The black-haired man didn't realize how much he missed physical contact with someone he was comfortable with until he was actually closer to the dark redhead. The Thraxans, while helpful and good citizens, weren't really the best when it came to physical touch, especially since their skin was rough and patchy, and Mark wanted something smoother. Even when his friend hugged him earlier, he didn't exactly comprehend the action at the time, too busy adjusting back into a world he left behind.

 

“You good, man?” Rex questions, rolling on his side. “You look like you don't know where you are.”

 

Was Mark okay? He wasn't exactly sure. Some days were easier than others– hiding away his true feelings for Rex with a simple joke, action, or starting a conversation and hoping it was enough. But the last two months really pulled at his head, enough to crumble his facade and nearly expose himself to the other man. And looking back to when he was at death's door, wishing he had told Rex everything he's been wanting to since they were teens, really didn't help with his racing, unfortunate thoughts. He was here now, alive and breathing, and he could say everything he's been wanting to blurt out for years at this very moment.

 

Too bad he would rather go back to the fight with the Viltrumites than do that now.

 

Damn it.

 

“Just tired.” Mark smiles, feeling his stomach turn.

 

“Just tired.” Rex repeats, snickering. “New teeth bothering you, or something?”

 

Mark shakes his head. “I don't really notice them now. Maybe when they first appeared, but now it's meh.”

 

Rex sits up, scooting closer. “They're pretty cool, if I'm being honest.”

 

Do Not Blush Mark. “Are they? I think he's cooler.”

 

He gestures his head towards the baby, who was… still standing in the crib and staring at the duo with his big red eyes. Rex makes a face, eyeing the baby suspiciously. The paler man frowns, unsatisfied with his friend’s reaction towards the little bug-like hybrid he held so dear.

 

“What's with you and the baby?” Mark questions fully, suddenly getting on his feet. “You're acting like he's the worst thing ever.”

 

“You said it, not me.”

 

He ignores him. Mark smiles and reaches down, picking the noisy infant up. He was bigger than he was when Mark first met him; his spike slowly grew shorter, but everything else was still relatively the same. The black-haired man turns and walks over to the bed, earning an even wrinkler face from the darker redhead.

 

“Stop looking at him like he has two heads.”

 

“He's blue, Mark.”

 

“And Aquarus is a fish.”

 

He holds the insectoid out to him. Rex hesitates, unamused and looking between Mark and his brother. Then, slowly, he extends his hands and awkwardly takes the big baby in his hands. He's not very good at it; he continues to leave his arms outstretched, holding his brother by his armpits, staring at him with a neutral expression. Mark frowns and smacks the hero's shoulder.

 

“I don't know how to hold a baby.” Rex complains.

 

“Cradle him against your chest.”

 

“He's going to puke on me.”

 

“Stop being dramatic.”

 

Rex huffs and quietly does what he's told. He brings the baby close to his chest, still having a hard time holding him without nearly dropping him on the mattress below, and looks at Mark with a raised brow. The paler man was trying to stop an obvious smile from forming on his lips, finding the scene in front of him a little funny. Rex looks back down at the baby, who was already reaching up for him with curious eyes.

 

“What?” Rex says, still unamused. “What do you want, little shit?”

 

Mark gasps from the insult, glaring at Rex like he committed a petty crime. The younger of the three, however, giggles and grabs Rex's jaw with both hands, his little antennae poking at the bigger man's smooth skin. It was the redhead's turn to force himself not to smile, as Mark could already see the internal fight he was having with himself to not give him the satisfaction.

 

“Don't call my brother that.” Mark sits down, ruffling the small set of hair on the insectoid’s head. “That's not a nice name.”

 

“He seemed to like it.” He argues, his hand finding the little guy's back and adjusting him in his hold. “Right, little shit?”

 

He giggles again, kicking his legs against Rex's arm. He couldn't hide it this time; the hero’s lips widened into a smile, his eyes shining as the bundle of joy observed every little detail on the man's face.

 

“Okay, he's kind of cute.” Rex's index finger hovered over the baby's hands, letting the tiny fingers curl around it and slightly pull at the limb. “And really likes to grab things.”

 

“Babies do that.” He shrugs. “Now do you like him?”

 

“Maybe a little.” His nonchalant face returns, already rejecting the joyful look he had a second ago. “He's not bad for being your brother.”

 

“My poor feelings.”

 

Mark eventually put his brother back in the crib once the infant had started to grow tired and was making a fuss in Rex's arms. The other man watched quietly as Mark soothed the bug-like boy before he finally let him rest in his temporary bed space.

 

“Say, weird change of topic.” Rex comments, glancing away from Mark as he gets back into bed for the third time. “But remember earlier you told us about you getting stabbed and slashed?”

 

Mark blinks. “Yeah?”

 

Rex’s face twists; Mark instantly recognizes it as him trying to find the right words to say without sounding weird or offending anybody. In this case, he was trying not to offend Mark.

 

“Do you perchance… I don't know; you never have scars, but was that blade anti-alien?”

 

Honestly, not the weirdest thing he's been asked by the other hero. He blinks at him a few times, then quietly chuckles, his fangs poking out at the lighthearted demeanor.

 

“I swear your brain runs on two things at once, dude.” He humors, earning a fake-shocked expression on Rex.

 

“How dare you! It's three things, actually!” He smiles, leaning forward. “So…?”

 

“Anti-alien is one way to put it.” Mark shrugs, his hand grabbing the hem of his shirt and dragging the fabric up. “The other cuts weren't really deep enough to leave anything behind, but this one breached through, so guess why skin couldn't handle it.”

 

Right across the side of his torso is a decently long scar, cut just below his ribs. Rex whistles, cocking his head to the side as he gets a better look at the healed wound.

 

“Shit, never thought I'd see the day.” Rex jokes. “The blade really got you.”

 

“Yeah.” Mark chuckles, looking down at it. “Surprisingly, I'm not really bothered by it.”

 

“You get used to them.” His friend humors him, then raises a brow. “Hey, did you get… beefier?”

 

I’m living a nightmare.

 

“I did carry a bunch of stone.”

 

“In that dumb little skirt? Wish I–”

 

Rex’s jaw snaps closed immediately. Mark swears he's in a dream most of the time.

 

The darker redhead is quick to change the topic back to its original roots. “All that time, I was worried about you and your precious fingers–”

 

“My fingers?”

 

“And you only return with a scar. That could have killed you. Actually, I'm still pretty much in the right for that.”

 

The black-haired man rolls his eyes and lies down, finally feeling comfortable enough to adjust himself on the soft mattress. Rex followed, taking the spot next to him, tucking his arms under the pillow. Mark is staring at Rex; Rex is staring at Mark.

 

“You were really panicking back here, huh?”

 

“Enough to be pissed off.”

 

“Yeah, I got that part, but I want to hear more about it.”

 

“Freak.” He looks away. “Remember that one movie we watched where the cheesy love interest’s only personality was being the love interest?”

 

Mark wrinkles his nose, his lips spreading in a smile. “Are you seriously comparing yourself to that?”

 

Rex nods, grinning. “Ever since you left, you were the only thing on my mind; that and why I accidentally blew up the coffee pot the next morning.”

 

That explains the scorch marks.

 

“Most days I was thinking, when is he coming back? Or is he coming back? And if he met some hot alien dude up there and forgot about me?”

 

The words were short, but there was a lot to take in at a time. Mark’s words catch in his throat, completely off guard. What were any of those words supposed to mean? He doesn't know if it's the lack of sleep he's had the past couple of months or his mind becoming too hopeful about a reality he was unsure would ever come true. But he only simply smiles and reaches over, giving Rex a totally normal pat on the shoulder.

 

“If it makes you feel better,” Mark pulls away,” I was kind of the same way.”

 

“Oh, really? How so?”

 

“I was thinking about if you ever got to go to that concert you were talking about.”

 

“Very funny. And yes, I did. With Eve and Amanda too. And we had a wonderful time.”

 

“And if I’d…” No, too much. “I’d get to beat you at ping pong again.”

 

“Maybe don't break the machine next time, and we'll see.”

 

Mark's eyes suddenly felt heavy. He shifts in the bed, pressing his face against Rex's pillows and letting his mind drift away into blissfulness. He feels the other man shift closer, pausing for a second in front of the tiring man.

 

“Yeah?” Mark asks, not bothering to open his eyes.

 

“Before you question, I'm doing this for you.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“But do you mind if we… you know? Do the thing?”

 

He opens one eye. “The thing?”

 

“… Well, you know?”

 

Mark frowns. Rex sighs and scoots closer, his cheeks seemingly a darker color.

 

“Just… I want to be close to you tonight. You know, make sure you're breathing and that stab wound didn't give you an infection inside your body or anything.”

 

Oh. Oh. It was Mark's turn for an obvious color change. “How close?”

 

“Dude.”

 

“As in… cuddling?”

 

“Don't say it out loud.”

 

But he still nods. Mark scoots closer and drapes his exposed arm over Rex’s, bringing him closer. Instantly, the darker redhead stuffs his face into the crook of Mark's neck, groaning tiredly, while his own arm finds the hero's side. The half-human feels his friend’s limb rest over his scar, and he sighs warmly.

 

“I remember when you used to make a fuss over this.” Mark comments, closing his eyes again.

 

“Because I was too long for you.” Rex playfully argues. “Now you're taller than me, it's different.”

 

“By an inch.” Mark chuckles. “Whatever. I'll see you in the morning.”

 

“I better not feel you in the morning.”

 

He hits the back of his friend's head. Deserved.

Notes:

You don't realize you miss writing MarkRex until you don't write them interacting for three chapters

Okay buuutttt quick thing... I have a tumblr! I can't say I just made it because I've had it for over two years, but now decided to actually do something with it lol. There, I'll post updates, postpones or early chapters (may be rare lowkey), or answer questions! Fair warning; I suck at using Tumblr lmfao

https://www.tumblr.com/spicefright?source=share

I don't have much notes for this chapter, other than writing Mark and Rex was fun again, as well as little baby Oliver... I gotta give him the name soon though, writing "the baby" just makes me think of Grogu from the Mandalorian 😆 but overall hope this was a fun chapter! Mark coming back in a miniskirt wasn't on Rex's 2025 bingo list /j

Chapter 17: Chapter Seventeen

Summary:

Donald was quick to catch on, a small gasp easily slipping between his lips as the younger man approached the biggest surprise of them all.

 

“Nolan fathered another child.”

Notes:

It's time to go home Mark...

Somehow, this chapter was the hardest to write?? Okay maybe not hardest, but I had to keep deleting and renewing dialogue 😭 I was almost not satisfied but I ended up finding a common ground that I liked :D papa Cecil is my favorite ever. Hope you enjoy!

“Are we sure this is edible for him?”

 

“He's eaten worse.”

 

Mark settles the blue infant down in the high chair, adjusting everything for him while his red eyes trail over the new material, blabbering baby noises over Mark's arm. Kate’s face scrunches at the tiny jars of baby food, reading each label with a sour look.

 

“Thanks again for the early run, Zandale.” Mark peeks over his shoulder at the taller man standing in the back, who lazily waves him off as he chugs down a cup of coffee.

 

“Perks of waking up early and having the ability to fly.” He half-shrugs, brushing his dreads back. “I don't know what he likes, so… I grabbed whatever.”

 

“We'll find something he likes.” Mark ruffles the short black hair on top of the hybrid’s head. “Shouldn't be too different from the food back at Thraxa.”

 

“You said it looked like goo; guess this isn't too far from it.” Kate mentions, taking out more jars. “Zandale, how many of these did you get?”

 

Zandale stiffens. “Mark said get whatever, so I got whatever they had.”

 

The first morning and afternoon back on Earth were going surprisingly well, for the most part. Mark knows he's been procrastinating on seeing Cecil all day like he had since last night. He's built up half-ass excuses, saying his body needs time to readjust to Earth's gravity, or his brother was feeling warm and he was worried he was sick from the sudden change of planets and needed to stay longer to be sure it wasn't something serious. Eve was kind enough to make a few things for the insectoid baby before running off for some unfinished business she didn't specify. Mark may or may not have been begging everyone else to get certain stuff so they had a more stable place for his brother to stay at for the meantime.

 

“It's fine, really.” Mark waves her off, nervously chuckling. “Just, uh, pretend it smells bad, and he’ll instantly like it.”

 

“… Sure.” Kate scoffs. “When did they make banana apple flavors?”

 

The front door of the base swings open, and in comes Rex, Amanda, and Rudy, all three of them carrying a box in their arms. Rex huffs dramatically as he stops at the very top of the stairs, shuffling the cardboard right on the metal rails of the stairs.

 

“You owe us,” Rex points a finger at the paler man, “big time for this surprise baby trapping.”

 

“That's one way to put it.” Amanda rolls her eyes as Mark hovers in the air towards them. “Do we really need this much?”

 

“Eve said they all come in good donations.” Mark picks up the box filled with toys and lifts it against his chest. “Plus, do you know how many diapers I went through on the trip here? Turns out Thraxan babies just really like going every hour.”

 

He hears the happy coo of his brother from behind. He turns and sees Kate, or what seems to be a duplicate of Kate, attempting to feed the growing infant the mush of food Zandale had stashed, but he was more interested in watching Mark flying than try the newly found substance that would soon become part of his routine diet.

 

“Why move everything here, anyway?” Amanda was at the bottom of the steps with Rudy, scratching her head. “Isn't he just going to go back to the GDA with you? You know, Cecil having another super baby to take care of and all that?”

 

Mark feels his heart jump, and suddenly, the room grows smaller. He floats down, silent as he settles the box down. He should say something, make everything clear to avoid confusion, but he didn't exactly know what or how to say it. It was less about Mark being unsure of what Cecil will think when he does meet his new brother that he brought back from an alien planet and more about him not being entirely sure if he wanted his brother to be raised in the same place as he was.

 

“Are we sure that's a good idea?”

 

Kate's voice broke the growing tension. All eyes turned on her, the actual her by the table. Her face was neutral and calm, but Mark could tell she had an entire novel written up in that head of hers. The half-human crosses his arms as Rex finally reaches the bottom of the steps, darting his eyes over to Mark, watching his reaction.

 

“I mean, it worked out for Mark, no?” Zandale cuts in, tossing his empty cup in the trash behind him. “Having the GDA fund everything for you is basically every hero's wet dream. I at least got some cut in it.”

 

So, that's what the training was for.

 

“Plus, if anyone knows anything about caring for a unique being, it's Cecil.” Rudy folds his arms over his chest, too-similar eyes taking a glance at the insectoid at the highchair. Mark snaps over at Rudy, brows knitted.

 

“He's not just a unique being, Rob–” he's never getting used to that– “Rudy, he's my brother who had to come here for his own good.”

 

“Plus, he's half-bug. That's a little more complicated.” Rex points out, seemingly less in tune than everyone else. “And governments aren't exactly the best place for a kid, face-stealer. Some of us didn't get it easy.”

 

The baby looks at Mark, as if sensing his distress. He sighs and crouches down to the box, digging through the materials the others had picked up.

 

“Honestly, I'm not sure where to put him.” He admits, taking out a mini War Woman action figure. He forgets merchandise is a thing, made in honor of the heroes of the world sometimes. “I'm grateful for Cecil and everything, and I got off… decent, I guess. But my situation was different; Cecil didn't exactly have a choice in letting me live there and grow up in a world of heroes instead of playgrounds and zoo trips.”

 

Technically, nearly everyone in the base didn't have a choice in how their lives turned out. Rex was sold by his parents to a man who just wanted his greed to expand, and he didn't know the full extent on why Kate became part of the GDA, but he was aware she was also trained to become a super soldier since her childhood. Even then, Mark was the same way. Cecil took the responsibility of caring for Mark, and he'll always hold him to high standards, but imagining his own brother in a facility such as that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

“Governments aren't exactly fun, either way.” Kate holds her hips, looking at her clone who was struggling to feed the insectoid hybrid. “They only just… most of them are only interested in what you can do and accomplish for them.”

 

Rex perks up with that, and suddenly he's worryingly looking over at the blue baby. “Hey, uh, Mark, I think Kate may be on to something.”

 

“I can hear you all.” Mark groans, standing up, holding a soft, lobster-like toy in his hand. “Listen, I just… can't he just stay here with you guys while I go and see Cecil and Donald?”

 

“Oh, great. This place is a daycare now.” Zandale sighs, shaking his head.

 

“What's becoming a daycare?” Rae walks out from the bathroom, drying her hair with one hand with a towel. By her loose clothing and damp hair, she must have just gotten out of the shower.

 

“Just… please?” Mark trots over and places the little plush toy in his baby brother's lap. The baby claps and picks up the toy with glee. The Kate clone grunts, practically stopping her attempt to feed the tiny hybrid at this point. “I promise I'll be right back… when things are settled. I just don't want him meeting too many new people at once.”

 

“There are already seven people here.” Rae gives a look, dropping the wet towel on their shoulder. “It's okay to say you don't want Cecil to meet him yet.”

 

Yeah. Yeah, that was the bigger reason.

 

“I, for one, see it as a good streak!” Shapesmith’s voice boosts in, his neck stretching over to hover over the new, chubby face. “He can stay here with us, and I can bond with him!”

 

“A baby isn't good for learning new human behavior, Shapesmith.” Rudy chuckles. “Technically, babies observe adults’ behaviors to learn from them, too. Plus, he's not a–”

 

“We get it.” Rex flicks Rudy's nose, ignoring Amanda's glare. “We'll keep him here while you go and apologize to your old man. Capiche?”

 

Mark smiles. “I owe you guys big time.”

 

“You do.” Kate jokes as her duplicate fuses back into her. “I call not changing the first diaper.”

 

“Just don't let him do it.” Rex whispers, pointing at Shapesmith with his thumb.

 

Mark nods, then floats in the air and lands on top of the staircase. “I'll be back. Just, uh, keep trying to feed him. You'll get there eventually.”

 

The half-human steps outside the door and into the open blue sky that rested above the entirety of the world. He walks to the edge of the balcony, patting down Rex's clothes he borrowed for this occasion, and heavily sighs. He wasn't scared; hell he wasn't even terrified. But it didn't make anything easier. He was unsure if Cecil was furious with him or disappointed, but those emotions were basically the same when it came to the old director. He looks out into the city, clenching his fists, and readies to face his biggest challenge yet.

 

Then the sound of the door swinging open temporarily halted the half-human's despair.

 

“Wait wait wait! Hold on!” Rex quickly beats himself to the entrance, inhaling sharply as he pushes his hair back. “Hold on, hold on. Wait right there.”

 

Mark smirks. “Okay, I'm right here. Waiting right here.”

 

“Thanks.” Rex walks up the steps with ease, propping himself next to the other man. “Okay, I caught you this time.”

 

“I'm just catching air.” Mark rolls his shoulders, smiling. “What's up?”

 

“Well,” Rex copies his stance, his clear eyes scanning to the clear sky above, “… Beautiful day, isn't it?”

 

“Rex.”

 

“You want me to come with you?” Rex blurts out. “You know, the best emotional support around and such?” He flashes his stupid grin, the one he knows always gets Mark to laugh.

 

Mark cocks his brow. “As much as I would love to armpit you all the way to the GDA–”

 

“Dude.”

 

“–I think it's better if I face Cecil on my own.”

 

Mark knew he couldn't stay away forever. It's not like he wanted to, but it was dragging him how long he was taking to actually go and see the old director. It was a quick action thought that blindsided him for a while, leaving him gone for two months because of it. Now, he has to inform him of everything, while also attempting to beg him for forgiveness and just hope Cecil shows him mercy again and doesn't force him to sit around and do nothing for a month or two. If there's something Mark can't stand, it's staying in one spot and not moving until given the commands. He's really got to work on that.

 

“Alright, big boy.” Rex smirks, holding up his hands. “You go ahead and be the bravest guy of your dreams.”

 

“I feel so loved.” Mark pouts, unsatisfied with the humor. “I'll be back some time today. Please, do not hurt my brother while I'm gone.”

 

“I wouldn't!” Now it was Rex's turn to be offended. “I'm not even going to hold that little guy, not even once. Nope. Last night was enough.”

 

Mark blinks at him. “You're so persistent.”

 

The other man shrugs. Mark rolls his eyes and leaps in the air. In a split second, he was gone, leaving the base behind for the long hours that awaited him ahead.

 

____

 

Everything was still relatively the same.

 

Mark wasn't gone for too long, so he didn't really expect major changes, but it was nice to see the familiar place after being away for some time. The half-human groans and steps inside the building, greeted with the bright lights above and the workers that traveled along the facility. With a quick cough and adjusting his black mane, Mark quietly strode in the crowd and towards the hallways he knew all too well. He keeps his gaze down, avoiding as much eye contact as possible, but still keeping his sights open for a face he's known for a long time. He knew older workers would recognize him as soon as he walked by, so he had to make this quick.

 

The pale man looks around, turns the corner, spots someone ahead, and perks up when he sees who it is. Just the guy he was looking for.

 

“Donald!”

 

Donald turns when he hears the voice call out for him. His brows shoot up when he sees the younger man approaching him. “Mark?”

 

In a flash, Mark is quick to wrap his arms around the agent, nearly knocking him over with the sudden force. But Donald is just as quick to do the same back, gently chuckling as his glasses reflect on the younger man he was holding.

 

“Good to see you're in good shape.” Donald comments, removing his arms so Mark can step back.

 

“How else would I be?” Mark jokes, adjusting his shirt. “It's really good to see you. How's, uh, everything since I've been gone?”

 

“It's been…” Donald scratches his chin, thinking carefully of his next words. “We've been all right. Testing out new assignments, keeping an eye on what we can reach, basically the same thing we've always done.”

 

“That's good.” Mark nods.

 

“… What's with your teeth?”

 

“Long story. Hey, uh, speaking of that, about two months ago when I–”

 

A blur of light flashes behind Mark. His eyes widened, his words caught in his throat. Donald's expression shifted from happy to surprised, then a mix of worry spread into the mix as he glanced over Mark's shoulder. The black-haired man hisses between his teeth and takes his time in turning in his steps as he faces the old man he knows all too well.

 

The first thing he sees is a differing look on the scarred face; arms crossed, shoulders high, and brow raised, Mark was familiar with what emotion he was looking at. With a final swallow, Mark straightens his stance and locks direct eye contact with cold, water-colored eyes.

 

“And,” Cecil starts off, “when exactly were you planning on telling me you're back?”

 

The young hero holds his gaze, trying to keep a strong look. “I was going to report as soon as I covered other endeavors.”

 

“I ordered you not to go.” Cecil's calm demeanor was gone as quickly as it came. “You were gone two months, now you don't even check in?”

 

Mark knew Cecil knew he was back since last night. He was no fool; even if Cecil didn't have eyes everywhere in the city, he would definitely notice an entire ship entering Earth's atmosphere and traveling to a base where Mark would be most comfortable to stay in. Plus, Rudy was deeply loyal to Cecil. Who knows if he did or didn't send a message to the guy overnight while Mark slept?

 

“I know.” Mark sighs, finally turning away. “I reacted impulsively again and traveled to a foreign planet, ignoring the orders you gave me. I'm… sorry, but I don't regret it.”

 

Cecil is staring at him for a moment. He hears Donald shuffle behind him, growing anxious by the duo’s growing tension. Mark waits for Cecil to do something– anything really– like a scold, a demand, or forcing him on an actual team so he's less inclined to do things behind the director’s back.

 

Instead, Cecil steps forward, brings a wrinkled hand to Mark's shoulder, and pulls him close into an embrace. The muscular hero would be lying if he said he was expecting this, because he certainly wasn't. But it didn't stop him from hesitantly doing the same, resting his chin on the white-haired man's shoulder and exhaling. This wasn't foreign to him, but it wasn't common either. He fully expected Cecil to tear him a new one and then send him off for brutal training or handle F-tier criminals like he did the first couple of weeks of Mark's new life. So, this was actually quite nice.

 

“You’re balding me, kid.” Cecil leers, patting his back. “But I'm glad you're safe and sound.”

 

Mark smiles, blinking away a few small tears. “I missed you too.”

 

Cecil pulls away and immediately scowls when he sees the fond look on Donald's face. “Wipe that off. We're doing the interrogation now.”

 

Another day, another explanation of what happened on Thraxa. “It's a long story, one where I kind of lost my suit… sorry.”

 

“Which is why my office is the perfect place to hold that conversation.” Cecil looks back at the younger man. “You can explain everything there.”

 

“Right.” Mark nods, awkwardly coughing into his fist. He was still unsure what Cecil's true emotions were, but at least he wasn't pulling at his ear and yelling inside. “Okay, so, where do I start?”

 

“Start off by telling us what happened when you got there.” The older man says, adjusting the teleporter on his wrist. “And explain everything in exact detail.”

 

Yeah, he figured as much. Mark waits until all three of them are teleported inside the director's office, then silently takes a seat alongside Donald and across from Cecil.

 

“Well,” Mark fiddled with his hands, staring down at the black pants he was wearing, “I traveled six days straight without stopping.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” Cecil rubs the side of his head. Great start.

 

“When I got there, I immediately called out for Nolan, I'm pretty sure. My memory of that is kind of fuzzy.” Mark continues. “But He was… gone already, or so I thought. The people of Thraxa, the Thraxans, took care of me after I collapsed. I didn't really get to know them at first, except for Andressa.”

 

Cecil and Donald exchange looks.

 

“She was Nolan's wife before He left. Apparently, He talked about me, said stuff about me, then left the planet and waited for me in the exosphere with, um, the other Viltrumites.”

 

The room suddenly turns cold. He hears Donald jolt in his seat by the information. He doesn't have to look at Cecil to know what face he was making.

 

“When I recovered, they invaded the planet and slaughtered hundreds of Thraxans.” His fingers curled into the wrinkled fabric; he didn't even realize he was gripping it so hard. “I couldn't leave them like that, so I–”

 

“You fought other Viltrumites?” Donald's voice rose. It was not of anger or disappointment, but worry and uneasiness. Mark nods, taking the time to glance at the older agent's face and seeing the wobbly look of the bald man.

 

“All three of them.”

 

He didn't dare to take a look at Cecil, but the director's silence was crumbling him with anxiety.

 

“The first one was Lucan; he was bigger than the other two and way stronger than I thought he'd be. Then there were Vidor and Thula. I wasn't expecting it to be so… complicated, honestly. I knew Nolan was strong, but I think these guys were at the same level of strength as He was, or maybe even…”

 

No, no, they weren't stronger. Definitely not stronger. Somehow, that idea was a lot more horrifying than he realized.

 

“How'd you do it?”

 

Cecil finally broke through his silent barrier. Mark does look at him this time; his eyes weren't cold or uninviting this time, but a rare sight of hesitancy.

 

Mark rubs the back of his neck, the scar on his side feeling like it's been cut open again. “I impaled Lucan with one of their great statues in the fortress. It took them half a month to rebuild it.”

 

“We aren't here to talk about broken statues, kid.”

 

“Right. Vidor and Thula were rougher, meaner– it took me a while to settle them down in a place where I could finally take care of them. Thula had a blade at the end of her braid, which reminds me–”

 

Mark takes the lower part of the shirt he borrowed from Rex and lifts it up to reveal the scarred skin to both men. Donald's brows rise; Cecil straightens in his chair, eyes widening to the point all corners of his eyes seem visible.

 

“Her blade was strong enough to pierce my skin.” His mouth twists. “Like, really get in there. I got a few cuts here and there, but this was the only one that never went away.”

 

“Because it pierced you entirely.” Cecil huffs. “I've seen you get hit plenty of times, but even this is… beyond what we originally thought.”

 

Mark will ask about that another time. He brings his shirt down.

 

“So, uh, anyway, I used the same blade to stab Vidor. Multiple times. In the face and neck until he stopped moving.”

 

Silence again. Same reaction as yesterday.

 

“I then broke Thula's jaw; she might be dead, I didn't get a good look before Lucan soccer kicked me in the back.”

 

“Jesus Christ.”

 

Mark swallows. “Finally, uh, He showed up.”

 

Cecil lifts his head. “He? As in?”

 

“Nolan.” Mark's nose wrinkles, eyes narrowed. “He waited until I got to the planet to talk to me. He made things clear; either I surrender and hand Earth over to the Empire, or I die with everyone else here.”

 

Nolan didn't outright say it, but Mark knew what his words meant when he thought back on them. He was a Viltrumite until the end; Mark's own mother wasn't enough; why would he be? His strength was the only thing that saved him that day, but he's unsure how long that can hold off before the wasps from the nest are soaring through the skies and taking over the Earth while Mark is powerless to stop them. What kind of hero would he be, then?

 

“We wouldn't let that happen.” Cecil grunts, crossing his arms. “We’ve been preparing for the worst ever since Nolan left the planet eight years ago.”

 

It's different. “It's complicated. Even with my suit, I had a rough time fighting them. I had an easier time fighting War Woman.”

 

The older director cocks a brow. “Well, there's only one War Woman.”

 

“Still, we need to–” He didn't realize how firm he was getting until the words slipped out of his mouth, “Sorry, it's just… it's been a long two months.”

 

So much has happened, yet there was never enough time to process any of it. There was still a lot to tell Cecil; the Viltrumites, the Thraxans, battle strategies, everything that loomed after him as soon as he stepped foot off the foreign planet.

 

Then, another thing dwells on him.

 

“While Nolan was there,” Mark grips his shirt, “after He wedded Andressa…” Mark hesitated for a moment. “There was something else.”

 

Donald was quick to catch on, a small gasp easily slipping between his lips as the younger man approached the biggest surprise of them all.

 

“Nolan fathered another child.”

 

He has accepted his brother already, but it still felt odd muttering out those words, as if the reality of it finally came true. He felt fine telling everyone else back at the Teen Team base, but now telling Cecil? The director of the Global Defense Agency and the man who took him under his wing? It finally settled onto Mark that he had someone to call ‘family’ again. Not just a smile and a point at Cecil, but a living being that was directly and undoubtedly related to him. Something he thought would never happen again. And it only now washed over him how sparking that information was.

 

“… Another child?” Cecil's strict voice comes quietly. “Nolan had another child?”

 

Mark nods. “My brother.”

 

The black-haired man could feel Cecil's eyes staring into his soul. “A brother?” He gently repeats.

 

“Yeah. Thraxans age faster than us, but the Viltrumite part slowed his aging. By the time he grows up to be an adult, he would have gone through multiple generations and many passes of loved ones.”

 

Cecil paused for a moment. “Well, where is he?”

 

His tongue was nearly tied at the question. “I left him back with the others.”

 

“The others?”

 

He really did make things difficult.

 

“Teen Team. I asked them to watch him while I came here because I wanted to talk to you first.” Mark admits, crossing his arms. “You already know I visited there as soon as I got back to Earth. He's safe, and, uh, he's a bug.”

 

Cecil blinks.

 

“The Thraxans were bugs. I forgot to mention that part.”

 

Donald adjusts his glasses. “Your brother is a… bug?”

 

The younger man shakes his head. “I was surprised, too. He's also blue.”

 

“Okay, enough.” Cecil waves his hand. “While I appreciate the honesty and the fact you saved lives out there, we need to get to the important part.”

 

If Mark knew anything about Cecil, it was the fact there was always a catch. He knew they wouldn't hug it out and forgive and forget, so he took a deep breath and adjusted in his seat.

 

“While you were away gallivanting with space bugs,” the white-haired man folds his hands over each other, “heroes have been working extra to watch over the planet and maintain any extraterrestrial life forms that may look a little too unfriendly.”

 

Mark instantly feels the pile of guilt drop into his stomach like heavy rocks. “Everyone was fine without me–”

 

“At one point.” Cecil interrupts. “But it's different now when you fly off into space and practically send attention to every other living being that's out there.”

 

He frowns. “I'm not that smelly.” He knew the scolding was coming sooner or later.

 

“Not the point.” He sighs. “Things are complicated, but we'll make them work. Now, go and get your brother, and we'll talk more about–”

 

“No.”

 

It slipped out, quick and easy. Did Mark mean it? He wasn't exactly sure why he was so fast to dismiss the director's idea. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he hesitated to come here in the first place– he didn't want his brother to live between grey, steel walls.

 

“No?” Cecil's brows furrowed. Donald stared at Mark in silence.

 

“No. I, well–” Mark stuttered over his words. “Listen, I just–”

 

“Mark, he's an alien.” Cecil points out, leaning over his desk, hands planted firmly on the shiny wood. “You know better than anyone else that we're far more qualified to take care of him than a bunch of growing adults that don't even know how to pay taxes.”

 

Technically, Rudy does, and most likely Zandale too, but he can't vouch for everyone else.

 

“I'm aware of that.” Mark's tone challenges the other. “He's not half-human like me, and he sticks out. I get it, but…”

 

But everything was all so complicated and confusing. Mark didn't know what to do, not with himself and not with the situation.

 

“I didn't have a choice.” Mark’s shoulders fall. “I had no one, and I couldn't go to a foster home because of, well, everything. But with him, I feel like he does have a choice.”

 

Donald clears his throat. “Mark, with all due respect, not only does your brother stand out, but he's half Viltrumite as well. His powers will be on par with yours; we were lucky to learn more about Viltrumite heritage thanks to you.”

 

“That's not the point.” Mark nearly growls. “I’m grateful for what you all have done for me, but that doesn't change the fact I grew up in a lab. I only ever had time outside with Rex, sometimes with Eve too, and even those were limited. I stopped seeing my first best friend because we couldn't risk my secret getting out.”

 

Or if I hurt someone in the process.

 

“And that makes him any different?”

 

“It makes him extremely different. If I'm able to give my brother a choice, and the choice is him actually living a normal childhood, then I'm taking it.”

 

Mark feels his eyes wet but does not disburse. “I promised his mother I would look out for him. And… I don't think I want him here, under the same pressure as I am.”

 

He wholeheartedly expected Cecil to argue with him, shout claims, or sprout logic that makes sense, yet Mark's stubbornness would only force it back. Hell, the young man was even suspecting Donald would join in this time, try to pry Cecil's words into Mark's head, and think of the possibilities and opportunities his baby brother could have if he stayed here like he did.

 

Instead, Cecil sighs and gazes away from the hero.

 

“Alright.”

 

Mark blinks. “Alright? As in, you agree?”

 

“I agree.” His voice was calm, but there was still a hard edge at the very tip of it. “But that doesn't mean I shouldn't get any reports or updates. As he grows, I expect occasional checkups here and there, as well as an immediate report when his powers do come in.”

 

This felt entirely surreal; Cecil agreeing to this was something Mark thought he'd have to pull teeth for. Hearing it all come from the scarred man was something Mark thought could only happen in a dream or hours of arguing.

 

“I– yes, of course.” Mark frantically nods. “Of course! Thank you–”

 

“Just to let you know,” Cecil leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, “this is tricky, even for me. How do the others feel about this?”

 

Mark swallows. “I'll… ask them about it.”

 

Cecil’s expression falls. “You didn't even ask them first?”

 

“I was still thinking!”

 

The old man shakes his head. “Nevermind that. You promise that's everything you told us.”

 

“Yes.” Mark slightly grimaces. “After the fight, I just helped rebuild their kingdom. Haven't heard anything from… anyone since.”

 

“I see.” Cecil clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Hm, well, with the new data collected–”

 

Why is he not surprised? Donald was definitely scanning every single little detail in that robotic brain of his.

 

“–we’ll now start preparing for the worst to happen, more than we ever have.”

 

Mark stands. “I understand. About my suit–”

 

“Yes, obviously there are more copies.” Cecil waves him off. “But once you grab your new one, you have another place to stop by.”

 

Mark arches a brow. “I do?”

 

Cecil stands with him. “We're going to stop by and say hi to the Guardians. Hope you aren't tired of that story yet, kid.”

 

____

 

By the time the duo teleported into the gloomy, full room of the Guardian's base, Mark was covered head to toe in his new black and green suit. Cecil seems to have added a few new quirks while the hero was away; the words on his screen were clearer, brighter, and easier to read, as well as more comfortable adjustments to the suit that clung to his muscular body. Instead of heavy grey gadgets on his broad shoulders, they were replaced with black pads with the recognizable green shade of the GDA star printed on them. Mark couldn't help but feel a little giddy over them.

 

“Are we sure they're here?” Mark questions, turning his head at the older man.

 

“I signaled an important meeting; they'll be here.” Cecil says, tightening his tie. “In fact, any second now–”

 

A flash of red zooms past the two agents. Mark perks up when he sees the red-covered hero stand before them, a sly smirk spread on his face.

 

“About time little Mark finds his way home!”

 

“Josef!”

 

Even though no one could see it, Mark's face was as bright as the sun. He was always familiar with Josef since he was young, as his mother and Olga were close friends due to being partners with heroes. Despite Mark always being in the GDA, he got to see Josef and Olga a bit more if the time of day was right. Josef was even nice enough to let Mark race against him, but he was always a bit further behind the fast hero. It finally clicked in his head; they haven't had time to test out Mark's newfound speed yet.

 

“Can we–”

 

“No.”

 

Mark slouches. Josef lets out a small laugh.

 

“Maybe next time, little Mark.”

 

He hates how both of them read him like a book. Soon enough, right behind Josef, War Woman and Martian Man enter inside the big room the trio were waiting in; the Amazonian jumps from the heights above while the shapeshifting alien climbs from the depths of the base, his body morphing in front of the others in a fast and steady manner.

 

“Look who made it back in one piece.” Holly smirks, throwing her mace over her shoulder as she steps closer to the shorter hero. “Good to know you made it back safe and sound.”

 

Mark scratches the back of his neck. “Well, it's hard to say–”

 

She's quick to shut him up with a gentle punch to the shoulder. “But next time, listen to your elders, little hero.”

 

He looks down at the ground without another word.

 

“It's good to see you again, Mark.” Martian Man mutters, clasping his hands together. “I was worried you would be…”

 

Mark still doesn't look up when he speaks. “Dead?”

 

“Not precisely. More like… imprisoned.”

 

Not totally inaccurate. “That was probably their second option?”

 

“Oh?” The taller woman’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

 

Cecil responds to her first. “When everyone gets here, I'll have him explain.”

 

After today, Mark doesn't want to utter the word “Viltrumite” ever again. He waits patiently as each member shows up one by one. Aquarus is next to make an appearance, and he was filled with delightfulness when he saw the younger man standing in the room with the others. Next was Green Ghost, aka Alana, who was rather surprised to see the younger hero but happy he was alive and well nonetheless.

 

“You have no idea how worried I was.” Alana’s green form was fast to hug the taller man. “We were thinking the worst for you.”

 

“I learned all my strategies from the best.” Mark chuckles. Alana was always nice to him, both having relations to the hero field before they took their first steps. Alana was lucky enough to have her father's ability passed down to her and become the new Green Ghost after his retirement. He did kind of feel bad she had to juggle a normal life and the work of a Guardian, however.

 

A roaring whistle travels through the halls, and above the mini group is the blue and white hero hovering in the air, clear eyes glaring down at Mark.

 

“Immortal.” Martian Man perks. “Mark is–”

 

“I see.” Immortal says, landing on his feet, observing the other man. “Glad you decided to come back.”

 

Mark glares from under his helmet, but Cecil is quick to dismiss Immortal's demeanor.

 

“Lighten up.” Cecil jabs, stepping beside Mark. “We have more important business to attend to.”

 

The ancient hero nods, but his face never changes. “I trust you, Cecil. So, this must be important if we all had to be called.”

 

“Of course it's important.” War Woman joins them, standing behind Mark. “I'm sure it has something to do with Viltrumites.”

 

Mark looks over his shoulder. “How did you–”

 

“Easy to figure out.”

 

A soft thump echoes to the left of Mark. Rising from the dark corner was Darkwing, standing tall with a peculiar look on his face.

 

“About time.” He says quietly, slowly walking over to the rest of the heroes. “You finally thinking with your head?”

 

“Darkwing.” Cecil hisses. “Another time. Mark, get on with it.”

 

Mark explains the tragedy of Thraxa and the bloody battle between him and the Viltrumites. Considering this is the third time he's had to tell this story, he's surprised he can still explain everything in accurate detail. However, explaining it to the Guardians felt odd, abnormal, as if there was possibly another catch to this once he was done telling them the full story. He catches War Woman and Martian Man glance at each other in silence during the story, while Red Rush’s eyes keep darting between all individuals within the base. Mark feels another pair of eyes on him, yet his only focus is the quiet and stoic look of Immortal.

 

“So,” War Woman mutters once Mark is done, “they may be coming to Earth?”

 

“At least Nolan is.” The shorter hero looks down. “I don’t know when, or how long it'll be until He does come here, but it's a guarantee.”

 

“Not much different than what we've been doing before.” Immortal huffs, placing his hands on his hips. “We have been preparing for his return since He left.”

 

“I know.” Mark lifts his head. “But you all have only seen Him fight against enemies on Earth, like a disguised hero. I haven't seen Him fight either, not really… but these Viltrumites were strong and fast, and I highly doubt He is any different.”

 

“I have heard of strong and high warriors that come from the stars.” Martian Man steps forward. “My people held stories from when we were young; it was another way to keep us from exploring the skies.”

 

“We have always known about the Empire.” Immortals turn to the green alien. “This doesn't change anything.”

 

“This changes a lot, actually.” Red Rush butts in. “They seem more persistent, and if Omni-Man is back with them, then that could mean anything! What if they send an army to Earth?”

 

“An army? We send one back!” Aquarus is quick to say.

 

“Hold on, maybe Mark has some ideas?” Green Ghost raises her hand. “Or like, uh, Mark, you said their greatest weakness could be themselves?”

 

With how easily Thula’s blade dangled from her braid and how easy it was for Mark to use it against her partner in crime, it wasn't exactly far off.

 

“Yeah.” Mark looks at Green Ghost. “I’d say so. They're stubborn, egotistical, and think they have the upper hand in everything. But that's what makes them weak; they never considered someone out there outranking them.”

 

His mind flashes to Allen. “Have you gotten any reports from Allen while I've been gone?”

 

“The alien that comes by every once in a while?” Cecil tilts his head. “No, uh, we haven't gotten anything. News must be slow where he's from.”

 

Mark frowns. “I see.”

 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Darkwing rolls his shoulders. “Let's get to preparation. We're going to need those reports on the boy.”

 

I’m a man. Mark thinks. “Wait! Uh, hold on, there's something else I wanted to say.”

 

“Kid…” the old director’s voice drowns in Mark's eardrums, but the younger man ignores him.

 

“If Nolan does come back to Earth,” his fists squeeze into themselves, “don't try to fight Him.”

 

“What?!” Immortal's shocked voice shook through the eeriness of the room. “You want us to just sit back?!”

 

“That's not what I–”

 

“I'm not sure about that.” The Amazonian trots after, her face slightly scrunching. “We are designed to protect Earth; who are we if we do not accomplish that goal if the murderer from the skies does dare show His face back here?”

 

“Hold on, let's hear the young man out!” Aquarus croaks. “He must have his reasons!”

 

“Mark.” Red Rush turns to the hero. “This is not something we can agree on.”

 

Ahead of the warning; expected. Mark knew this wasn't going to be easy; he had already thought of this exact scenario since he re-entered Earth's atmosphere. But they weren't there; they only have the story. Mark had never felt such rage as he did when he fought the three warriors back at the quiet planet. They didn't see the damage and cruelty they committed like he did.

 

“Have any of you fought Nolan before?” Mark questions, his tone shifting to something more determined. “You haven't felt what they can do. I'm lucky to still be standing here!”

 

“I have fought battles and cruelties longer than you've been alive.” Immortal bares his teeth, eyes narrowed. “If anyone can fight against Him, it's us–”

 

“It's not you!”

 

Everything falls silent when Mark finally yells out, slightly hovering over the group of heroes. His head is snapped onto Immortal, hands balled into fists, chest moving up and down rapidly.

 

“It's not any of you.” Mark repeats. “You're not Viltrumites. Your strength isn't enough. Your powers aren't enough. They don't fight like you; they don't think or care like you. Their only concern is taking over the Earth and spreading their Empire.”

 

Darkwing steps next to Cecil. “Well, if anyone knows best, it's the boy who fights against his heritage.”

 

Mark nearly snaps, almost says something that could be classified as cruel, but he lets that one go. Just for now.

 

“Mark,” Cecil knits his brows, frowning. “If you're saying the Guardians can't fight against Nolan, then what the hell are we supposed to do? We can't just sit around and wait until He comes back with the rest of His friends.”

 

Mark thinks. And thinks. And thinks some more.

 

“I–”

 

“You don't even have a plan.”

 

Mark is back on his feet, inches away from the older man's face as Immortal glares into the glass piece.

 

“I at least know what the world is going against.”

 

“And yet you keep that information from us?”

 

“I told you everything I know.”

 

“And we're only supposed to hope a blade will come from the sky to slaughter all Viltrumites?”

 

“There is a guaranteed weakness we can find.”

 

“Or did your father tell you to keep your mouth shut?”

 

“Say that one more time.”

 

War Woman is quickly between them, pushing both individuals away while glaring directly at Immortal. “Enough.”

 

“Enough, indeed.” Cecil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright, enough arguing. I may have an idea.”

 

Mark whips around to face the commander. “You do?”

 

“Mark,” Cecil steps forward, “we may… we may have found something that we could use against Nolan if He returns.”

 

He cocks his head to the side. “What? What are you saying?”

 

“Remember that Depth Dweller you fought?” He utters, taking a quick glare at the fish hero across the room from him. “Well, we noticed your heart rate and senses heightened when it screamed at you."

 

He nods. “I remember that.”

 

“Well,” Cecil licks his lips, “we saved a copy of the sound. We noticed it's a higher pitch than what anyone is used to. You were never bothered by loud sounds, Mark. But that time?”

 

That time. The only time Mark's ears ever hurt.

 

“Do you think…?”

 

“It's a possibility.”

 

Mark looks around. Red Rush and Martian Man are whispering among themselves; Green Ghost holds herself as her empty face stares at Mark. Aquarus and Darkwing are staring ahead; Darkwing’s eyes remain narrowed, but the younger man could sense the current of curiosity radiating off him. Immortal and War Woman stayed silent, waiting for the young hero's answer.

 

With a small exhale, Mark opens his mouth.

 

“Okay.”

 

He knew everyone else was thinking the same thing as he was.

 

“Let's see if your theory is correct.”

Notes:

Me standing trial after I bait everyone into thinking Oliver was going to be adopted by Cecil like Mark

Okay chapter thoughts <3:
~Green Ghost idk her show story, I just saw someone headcanon her as the og's daughter and the power was passed down to her, so I decided to include that in the story just for funsies, we love being whimsical here
~Ngl, I actually do find it funny how many people thought Oliver was going to the GDA too, which ngl is completely reasonable and he's not 100% staying away, but Mark recognizes he grew up in a... Weird world. Oliver is already bug, let him be child 🩷
~I should include Donald more I think he's great and he's also Mark's dad but no one else knows about that
~GOD Cecil was actually lowkey hard to write this chapter because I had to choose between dialogue that fits him but still kinda show he's not like the Cecil we know and love/hate/both depending on the day? He's still Cecil and he makes me want to rip my hair out but he's fun so that's a bonus
~Also, writing an entire team feels awkward and it made me realize I don't think I've written an entire team of people interacting at once before 😅 I had to keep reminding myself it's the Teen Team base, everyone (minus Eve 💔) was there to talk to Mark. At least they're being supportive friends... Until Mark comes back with a proposal lmfao

Anyway, that's all! Can't believe my fic is already two months ago, that's crazy 😆 but I'm still having fun at least!

Chapter 18: Chapter Eighteen

Summary:

Rex shakes his head. “By the time I realized how fucked up my childhood was, I had already accepted it. Sure, maybe not all of it was terrible–”

 

“You said you grew up in a lab.”

 

“Well, yes! But I got to meet all my friends out of it!”

Notes:

Scratch my beeeelllllyyyyyyy

“You know what to do; keep things steady and under wraps.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

 

Rex steps out of the shady car and closes the door behind him just as quickly. He doesn't look back as he makes his way towards the glassy building, hands stuffed in his pockets. A few workers walk by, taking quick glances at the young boy, but he doesn't spare any looks. He would usually spout comments, but today he's in a different mood than he usually is.

 

Entering inside, he meets the sight of Donald ahead, who seemed like he was waiting for the dark redhead to arrive. Rex puts on his usual shit-eating grin as he approaches the adult.

 

“‘Sup, Donald.” Rex says, stopping in his tracks in front of the agent. “Did you get taller?”

 

“Why do you always ask me that?”

 

“It's funny.”

 

It was a way for Rex to start a conversation, but he wasn't normally good at those if he was too tired or wasn't in the mood. Plus, Donald was a little awkward to talk to at times, especially since Rex doesn't really acknowledge him as much unless they run into each other or he's with–

 

“Mark is currently finishing up a test.” Donald motions the young boy to follow, walking towards one of the hallways. “You can wait in his room until he's done.”

 

“Nice.” Rex wrings his hands behind his head and follows after the pale agent. “Are you babysitting me or something? I'm quite capable, actually.”

 

Donald looks over his shoulder and at the preteen. “I'm just bringing you to Mark's room. We are fairly busy today.”

 

“Why? Is the world ending?”

 

“No, it's–”

 

“Is Godzilla attacking? I can throw bombs at him if you want.”

 

Donald sighs and looks away. Rex shrugs to himself, already growing bored. His eyes keep at the walls of the inner building as they travel through the agency, taking note of the different posters, pictures, and decorations displayed for all to see. He never cared much about them, but every once in a while, he'll see something that seems interesting and bring attention to it later if it pops back up in his head.

 

Once they reach Mark's door, Rex does a small skip in front of the out-of-place entrance and gently grabs the handle. “Is he going to finish soon?”

 

“He should be done any–”

 

“Cool, thanks!” Rex pushes the door open and trots inside, letting it close behind him as he takes in the room around him. Nothing much has changed; it's only been a month since he's been here, so it wasn't like he was expecting a major change or the biggest new room look in the world. There does seem to be one new Seance Dog poster, though.

 

Then again, Rex has been seeing a lot of home decoration magazines lately, and taking in the structure of the bedroom, there could be some nice changes around the place that wouldn't really impact anything, as far as he's aware. The preteen shakes the idea out of his head for a moment; it wasn't his room, and even though he does have a tendency to move things or touch stuff he's not supposed to, he does respect Mark to some degree as his friend. With a frustrated sigh, he flops on the yellow covers and rolls on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Rex looks over at the remote and lets out a small pssh as he turns away. Rex doesn't like TV that much; he doesn't even know what he'd put on anyway.

 

“Spoiled life.” Rex mutters, brows furrowing. He had a room too, back at his home with Radcliffe. But it wasn't always like that, and he didn't always get special privileges like Mark did. He at least had a home before the GDA; the darker redhead couldn't help but feel slightly jealous at the fantasy. It only occurred to him now he never questioned the other boy why he was here in the first place; it may have popped in his head once or twice, but Mark made it clear by their hangouts alone he was very experienced in the world and its habits, unlike the preteen, but now he was living in a government agency with a director for a dad. Why did he never question him about that?

 

Rex sits up when he hears the door click open, and in comes the boy of the hour, a bag over his shoulder as he tiredly stares ahead in the room, unaware of his friend currently sitting on his mattress with a small grin on his face.

 

“What? No hello?” Rex entertains, crossing one leg over the other. Mark stops in his tracks, eyes widening as they dart over to the redhead in the room. He gasps, dropping the bag on the floor with a loud thump.

 

“Rex!” Mark is in front of him in a millisecond, nearly knocking the other boy back as his arms wrap over his friend's torso. Rex does slightly wheeze, feeling some pressure against his body he wasn't entirely used to. His hands luckily held him up as he looked down at the ruffled black hair brushing against his jawline.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I'll give you an autograph.” Rex smirks, wrapping one arm across Mark's back. “What? Did they not tell you I was coming in today?”

 

“Uh… I'm not sure, but if they did, I don't remember.” Mark pulls away, smiling brightly. “But I'm glad you're here! I was really starting to get, um, sad that I haven't seen you in a while.”

 

Rex's shit-eating grin disappeared and was replaced with a softer expression. For Rex, his week was coursing between training, robbing, and talking to doctors about the state of his powers. He's had his implanted ability since last year, and they keep telling him he's made amazing improvement; it's been the only thing that's worth Rex's attention. But to Mark, he makes it seem he only wanted to see Rex again. It's only been a month; there's no way Mark hasn't been busy too.

 

But by the look of his eyes, Rex felt guilty he didn't necessarily do the same.

 

“Oh, you don't know the week I had–”

 

Rex holds up a hand. “Hold on, hold on.” He chuckles, internally trying to push down the half-hour guilt he'll experience in the meantime. “I'm sure you would love to spill how much you miss me and how much Cecil sucks.”

 

“He does not suck–”

 

“Buuuuuut I wanna bring something up real quick.”

 

Mark raises a brow as he steps away and watches the dark redhead plant his feet on the soft floor, walking past the black-haired kid and over to his bookshelf on the other side of the bed.

 

“See this?” Rex leans his arm on top of the piece, tapping his hand flat on the top surface. “I’ve been looking into decoration recently.”

 

“Really?” Mark tilts his head. Rex nods, seemingly proud.

 

“This here? It's nice, comfortable, and a good look in the room, buuuuuuuutttttt…” the preteen pushes it a little. “Do you think it'd look good over there? By the, uh, corner a bit?”

 

Mark's mouth twists, brows arched slightly. He looks at Rex; he's looking back at him. With silent hesitation, he zooms over to the other side of his room and takes the other side of the bookshelf. Rex blinks; he didn't think he would just happily oblige with little to no words, but he was kind of easy sometimes.

 

“Just like that?”

 

“You said you were looking into decoration.”

 

“Well, I don't mean to brag, but yeah.”

 

Rex grins and pushes the bookshelf once, then Mark takes the rest and easily slides it over by the corner of the room. The older boy stumbles in his steps a little, not expecting the fast loss of contact. The paler boy backs away and crosses his arms, looking at the new spot for the bookcase. Then he glances at Rex, waiting for his opinion.

 

“Hmm…” Rex rubs his chin, thinking. “I think it looks good… but imagine what else we can do to spark the room's spirit!”

 

“You're not going to blow up my room, right?” Mark's shoulders drop.

 

“No! I'm not allowed to do that.” Rex huffs. “But I do want to test out some other outlooks.”

 

“Out… looks?” Mark chuckles. “As in?”

 

“Watch me.”

 

Rex and Mark spend the next twenty minutes moving things around the room, whether it was Mark silently watching Rex make a suggestion as he's moving any furniture piece or Mark moving it for him if it's too heavy (or Rex doesn't want to move it). The room was beginning to look different, way different than either of them were used to, but Rex likes to get creative.

 

“You know,” Rex smacks his lips, “maybe we should've left some stuff where they were.”

 

“You think?” Mark pouts. “What kind of room decoration have you been looking at?”

 

“Not the good kind.”

 

It definitely wasn't Rex's best work. The bed was too close to the door, the TV was next to the closet, and drawers and cabinets were in places that didn't exactly help them blend in or stick out. It wasn't roomy, and Rex wasn't sure what he was thinking when he made all these decisions.

 

“Sorry about that.” The dark redhead whistles, unfazed. “We can move everything back.”

 

“We just spent a long time moving this stuff already!” Mark snaps, brows furrowed. “What was even the point?!”

 

“Test things out.” He shrugs, smirking. “I mean, it doesn't look half bad–”

 

The door to the bedroom opens, and a pale, scarred man walks in with a tired face.

 

“Alright, boys, what do you–”

 

Cecil pauses when he sees the new look of the room. Both boys freeze, wide eyes staring at the director as he observes the map of the once cozy place. Rex steps a bit from Mark, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

 

“Is there, uh,” Cecil blinks, “is there something you boys are testing out?”

 

“New… structure ideas?” The half-human boy scratches the back of his black hair. “It was Rex's idea.”

 

“Hey, wait!” Rex held up both hands. “I only wanted to… move stuff! Mark didn't stop me!”

 

“You said–!”

 

“Relax.” Cecil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's your room, Mark. Do whatever you want, but one thing about rooms is that they should be comfortable enough where you can get around and settle down when you need to.”

 

The older man shakes his head. “What do you two want for dinner?”

 

The two friends look at each other; Rex is quick to answer first.

 

“Burgers.”

 

“Sure.”

 

He's already gone, the door clicking as it shuts. The darker redhead hears the other boy take a long and deep inhale before his body flashes in Rex's sights, already on the other side of his bed and moving it back where it originally was.

 

“He seemed to like it.”

 

“My room is messy.”

 

Rex's gut turns. He feels off about this, and seeing Mark already act so… off towards him left him feeling things he was unsure about. With a sigh, he spins on his feet and walks over to the bookshelf, grabbing it by the top and pulling it back where it used to be.

 

“I was just trying to…” Rex trails off. He doesn't really know what he was thinking; maybe it was a pride thing, or he wanted to see the bedroom in a new light. “I don't know, I thought it'd be fun.”

 

Mark doesn't really say anything. Rex frowns but pushes it aside. He pulls the wooden cabinet towards him, stepping back when something small falls from between the books and onto the floor. The older boy raises a brow; why would something be placed between the books? He leans down and picks the small material up.

 

It was a picture of Mark with a woman that looked fairly similar to him. She didn't look too old, maybe in her early thirties, and she was pretty. She was hugging onto Mark with a bright smile, with the younger boy holding onto her with both arms and smiling brightly into the camera. Rex tilts his head, turning his body towards Mark as he still looks at the photo.

 

“Hey Mark, who's this?”

 

There was mere silence for a moment, just a moment, before Mark snatched the photo from his hands and hid it behind him, despite Rex already seeing the photo.

 

“It's nothing.”

 

“Dude?”

 

“How'd you find it?”

 

“I dunno, it fell out?”

 

Mark looks away, his face paling. Rex feels his expression soften, and he groans by the annoyance of it, but the guilt in his stomach grows larger.

 

“I was just–”

 

“I'm sorry.” Mark is quick to say. Rex flinches, confused by the sudden apology. “It's been a rough week.”

 

Oh. Oh, yeah. He interrupted Mark earlier when he said that.

 

“It's fine, dude.” The preteen waves him off. “I don't care– not like you yelled at me or anything.”

 

Mark glances down at his feet. “Still. It's just moving around furniture; I don't know why I got so…”

 

“Upset?”

 

He nods. Rex clicks his tongue.

 

“Well, it was my fault, I guess.”

 

“No!” He's quickly standing nose to nose with Rex, grabbing his upper arms. “No! No, it's fine, really. I just–”

 

The younger boy pauses. Rex is starting to feel weird; he's not been this awkward with someone around his age before. Growing up with broke parents and then moving in with a guy who is slightly associated with the government doesn't really leave the best impression on a kid who can't even figure out his own feelings.

 

Then Mark holds up the picture again, and Rex gently takes it between his fingers.

 

“That's my mom.” Mark utters, folding his arms over himself. “She's, um… she's dead.”

 

Oh, fuck me, dude.

 

“Shit, uh.” Rex bites his lower lip, trying his best not to accidentally set the picture ablaze. “I'm sorry, dude. I had no–”

 

“I know.” The paler boy steps away. “I thought it'd be awkward, or something, to bring it up. Maybe insensitive.”

 

“I wouldn't– no it's not– I'm just not–”

 

Man, this is awkward. “I don't know how to handle something like… this. Never met someone with a dead mom before.”

 

That came out completely wrong, but his friend didn't seem to take offense to it.

 

“I get it; it's weird.” He weakly smiles, and somehow, that made Rex feel worse. The slightly taller boy grabs Mark's wrist and drags him over to the bed and forces him to sit, then joining him by his side.

 

“She's pretty.”

 

“She was.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Mark hesitates, his eyes narrowing. Rex expected him to slap him or something, but instead, Mark continued with a slumped face.

 

“You know Omni-Man, right?”

 

Rex nods. “Yeah, the strongest hero on Earth until He just randomly went missing like– a year ago.”

 

Mark makes a face. “He was my dad.”

 

Rex blinks. “What?”

 

“Yeah, and He killed my mom.”

 

“What?” Rex's jaw drops. “What? What? What? Your dad was– and He– and that's why you can fly?”

 

His friend seems to lighten up at that, a quick twitch at his lips appearing for only a second. “I guess. But I don't really consider Him my dad anymore, not after that. I think I hid that photo because…”

 

His eyes started to tear up, and his lips trembled. “Sometimes I get really sad when I see my mom, alive and everything, in pictures, because it only reminds me that she's not here anymore, and it makes the good memories turn into bad ones.”

 

Rex feels himself grow sympathetic. That explains all of his questions from earlier and why Mark was here in the first place. Of all the things he expected, this definitely wasn't one of them.

 

“I'm afraid to turn out like Him.”

 

Rex’s head immediately snaps towards his friend when those words leave his mouth. “What?!”

 

Mark does slightly flinch at the unexpected noise. “Uh–”

 

“You're nothing like Him!” Rex defends, hitting the paler boy's shoulder. “First of all, you're cool. Second of all, you fly way better. And lastly, fuck that guy.”

 

Mark stares at Rex, stunned by the other boy's defense.

 

“Don't have that dumb mindset or whatever.” Rex continues, pointing his finger directly onto Mark's chest. “Omni-Man was a dumb hero anyway, and I already know you'd be a way cooler hero than He ever was.”

 

The black-haired boy is still staring. Rex glances somewhere in the room, silently hoping he'd say something already. As soon as he opens his mouth to spout more bullshit, Mark is on him in an instant, wrapping his scrawny arms around Rex and pressing his forehead against his friend's shoulder. He tenses, his nose stuffed in the boy's black hair for a second or two before he moves his head and rests it beside his friend's own.

 

“Again, sorry for messing up your room.” Rex says, looking at the weird structure of the place.

 

“It's fine, I can easily move it back.” Mark mumbled against him, turning his head so his face was more exposed. “Thank you, Rex. I was scared that I wouldn't have any friends while I was here, but I'm glad I met you.”

 

Rex lifts a brow, snickering. “Wow, your hope for friends went down the drain if the universe thought it'd be a good idea to send me.”

 

“I don't think so.”

 

The preteen’s snicker turns into a warm smile. “Well, I'm glad you're my friend, too. My first friend at that.”

 

Mark pulls away, sitting back on his knees. “Really?”

 

The redhead nods. “My parents and I lived in a shitty, empty neighborhood before they gave me away. Then Radcliffe thought I was better off alone until I met you, so…”

 

Rex stands and offers his hand to the half-human boy. “Alright, let me fix your room since I fucked it up in the first place.”

 

“You curse a lot.” Mark comments, but gladly takes Rex's hand and hops off the mattress. “Um, the photo.”

 

“Oh, right.” Rex quickly hands it back over to him. “Are you sure you want to hide that picture? I know I'm not an expert at this, but maybe having easier access to the picture would be better?”

 

Mark blinks. Rex sighs.

 

“Like, you know? If some days you really miss her, you can grab it real quick and remember those times…?” Rex’s voice got quieter the more he talked. “Hm, shit, I should not be a therapist.”

 

Mark chuckles, stuffing the small Polaroid picture into his pocket. “I understand. Maybe I'll bring it up to Cecil or Donald and see what they think.”

 

Rex rolls his eyes. “Respectfully, they're not experts either.”

 

“They can be helpful!”

 

“Yeah, if your name is Mark Grayson and not Rex Splode.”

 

The boys laughed at that. Now, Rex is starting to understand why people get so excited when they get to see their favorite person in the entire world.

 

____

 

“These foods suck.”

 

“Well, some of us can't survive on pizza and ramen noodles.”

 

Rex peeks over his shoulder to glare at the brunette behind him, who was too busy sorting through the jar aisle and looking at the different flavors they had on standby. The darker redhead trots over and picks up a larger jar, reading the flavor and immediately gagging.

 

“Avocado?” Rex sneers, placing it back where it belonged, only for the woman beside him to grab it and gently toss it in the cart that settled and parked in front of her. “Oh, come on. If he didn't like the carrot one, he's definitely not going to like that.”

 

“Have some hope, Rex.” Rae says, walking past him. “Maybe the taste is the closest thing he'll have to his food back home.”

 

“Only if it's barf.” Rex replies, unbothered by the scratchy hand that gently keeps grabbing his chin. Rae doesn't answer, but she does give him a look. He hums and follows after her, noting that they're coming up on the aisle where Groniches was located. An antenna hits his eye and he grumbles, tenderly grabbing it between his fingers and moving it away.

 

“Still can't believe we got babysitter duty.” Rex complains, grabbing the top of the blanket-made pouch and pulling it over the tiny body that rested against his upper torso. Little coos echo beside his ear as the tiny baby pushes one hand on Rex's shoulder and attempts to look over it. The bigger man, once again, delicately pushes the blue joy down and attempts to bring the top of the blanket over his torso.

 

“He's pretty well behaved to me.” Rae chuckles, turning the corner to gather the food on the other side. “Trust me, some of my baby siblings were literal nightmares. I haven't heard him cry once.”

 

“Yeah, well, I haven't seen him eat once.” The taller hero scoffs. “I thought babies eat anything.”

 

“Human babies do. He's not a human baby.”

 

“Yeah, he's a bug.”

 

Rex wasn't a fan of babies, not really. He never really interacted with any as he grew up, and even if he did come across one or two, he would barely acknowledge them or pretend they didn't exist because his focus was something else that wasn't a screaming infant. Now, here he was, walking around the store with the little bundle of spikes clinging to him like he was his last hope to survive.

 

“We should get some new clothes, too.” Rae says, standing on their tippy toes to reach up for a bag on top of the shelf. “It doesn't look like Mark brought too many options back home.”

 

Rex half-shrugs, taking sight of Groniches and snickering. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that.”

 

The redhead lifts up the box and pops the top open, looking inside and seeing the snacks displayed inside, waiting for him. Just as he begins to dig through, the insectoid is caught with attention and instantly moves his body in a bad attempt to grab the box’s edges. Rex moves it away, glaring at the innocent infant.

 

“Hey, no. It's mine.” The hero grumbles, tossing a cookie in his mouth. “You can't even eat this yet.”

 

He responds with a smack of his hand against Rex's nose. The older man doesn't even know why he's talking to the baby like he could understand him. Rae turns and giggles when she sees the sight in front of her.

 

“I think he likes you.” She says, trotting over. “He's not as affectionate with everybody else.”

 

“He likes Shapesmith.”

 

“Well, everyone likes Shapesmith.”

 

Not everyone. “I’m not too special. I'm just, uh, I don't know. But maybe it's because I'm so cool-looking.”

 

“Technically, we all are.” The brunette shakes their head. “He's not used to seeing all of… this. I mean, he came from a planet of bugs.”

 

“Humanoid bugs.”

 

Rae shrugs and motions for him to follow, pushing the cart along. He sighs and does as he's told while munching away at the snack he claimed. The baby had stopped trying to take it at least, but now he was trying to climb out of Rex's grasp again. No wonder he never thought about having kids of his own.

 

“You know,” Rae looks up at the aisle numbers, “we should give him some sort of name.”

 

“I already did.” Rex chews, holding up the box. “I called him ‘little shit,’ but Mark said it was too mean.”

 

“That is mean.” Rae frowns, stopping by the vegetables. “Why hasn't Mark named him?”

 

He shrugs. “Maybe it has something to do with Thraxa.”

 

Today was nice, quiet, and a little boring, but Rex liked hanging out with Rae. They weren't super close, but he hung around her a lot when she was recovering at the base alongside Amanda. Honestly, he couldn't even be mad that she was also a Seance Dog fan. He understood some of the references, at least. He has noticed they do have a tendency to constantly bring up Eve, and he's starting to suspect something, but it was funnier if he waited until one or both of them told him what that exactly meant. Either way, Rex liked hanging out with them, so he couldn't say no when the brunette asked him if he wanted to come shopping with her.

 

The only downside is that she offered to take the little bug baby with them, but Rex didn't mind holding him when he was still and not trying to fall face first onto the floor.

 

“You know,” Rex throws another cookie in his mouth, “I kind of forgot how boring shopping is.”

 

The paler woman raises a brow. “Do you not go shopping?”

 

“Occasionally, but not all…” he gestures throughout the entire aisle, “This. Usually it was every man for themself.”

 

“As in?”

 

“Well, Eve still lived at home, Kate kept to herself, hmm… oh! I stole Robot's credit card number, and I lived off delivery pizza, ramen noodles, and black coffee. I almost got scurvy once.”

 

Rae frowns. “I wouldn't be so proud of that. We're definitely not doing that, especially since he's around.”

 

She points at the hybrid, who was now laying his head on the hero's shoulder, slightly tuckered out. Rex looks at the fluffy black hair, then back at Rae.

 

“Well, it's not like he's staying with us.”

 

“Weren’t you opposed to him going to the GDA?”

 

“Hesitancy, my friend.” He lies. He still has a weird feeling about the baby being raised by the government, and he doesn't even know why. Mark ended up fine for the most part; it wasn't entirely like Rex's experience.

 

Rex chuckles, lightening the small bit of tension. “Plus, I may not be an expert, but babies can't have that stuff anyway, with or without blue skin.”

 

“I'm serious, Rex.” She turns from him so she can take a look at more vegetables in the open aisle. “We are adults now. I want to try out new stuff and actually make a meal instead of that engineering diet crap.”

 

Rex shuts his mouth, swallowing the last bit of the cookie. “So, uh, what? You planning to cook us dinner tonight?”

 

“I'll try.” She lightly shrugs.

 

“But your left arm is still in a cast.”

 

“A broken arm hasn't even stopped me from hero work.”

 

He can’t argue with that. “Alright, miss ma'am, but I'm just saying, I bet Robot's credit card still works.”

 

She whips her head towards the darker redhead. “You don't have to eat it, Rex.”

 

Okay, he recognizes that kind of tone from anywhere. “Alright, alright, I'll stop being snarky. I just… I don't know, are you trying to…?”

 

Rae stares at him, waiting.

 

“Is this what normal people do?”

 

“Shopping?”

 

“And cooking?”

 

“Yeah, kind of how we live.”

 

Rex can't exactly relate, but she sounds like she knows what she's talking about.

 

Rex digs into the box again. “I wouldn't know; I'm used to delivery food and having stuff made for me.”

 

The brunette seems amused at that, at least. “GDA-made hamburgers hit the spot?”

 

He shrugs. “On a good day, at least.”

 

They seemed less fazed this time. Rex blinks, looks at the baby drooling on his shoulder, then over at Rae.

 

“Can I ask a question that could be considered inconsiderate?”

 

“Be my guest.”

 

“Are you doing this for some normality?”

 

The duo had shared some stories during Rae's recovery process. Whether it was their opinion on hero work or their lives growing up, it was at least something that kept her mind off the fact she was heavily injured by an overgrown cat. Rex found they have a few things in common– young heroes at work (well, that applies to her better), didn't get the best childhood, and don't understand pop references when someone else tells a joke. It wasn't just that between them, but knowing more people who went through similar experiences was pretty comforting.

 

“I guess.” Rae looks away. “The idea of having a somewhat normal life is pretty comforting. Have you never thought of that?”

 

Rex shakes his head. “By the time I realized how fucked up my childhood was, I had already accepted it. Sure, maybe not all of it was terrible–”

 

“You said you grew up in a lab.”

 

“Well, yes! But I got to meet all my friends out of it!”

 

Not the most positive idea to have, but he’d rather not dwell in the past forever. Okay, a part of that was a lie, but Rex prefers lying sometimes.

 

“Look, I just never expected some sort of normal life like a normal person.” Rex closes the box and holds it under his armpit, trying to keep a steady hand on the baby attached to him. “That's just how it is, but now seeing you shop around makes me feel bad you didn't get that.”

 

“Wow, Rex Splode is showing empathy.” Rae chuckles, but she seems flattered by Rex's words. “Thank you, but I promise I'll be fine. Just as long as none of my siblings develop any powers like I did.”

 

Ah. Explained as such. “How are the brats doing?”

 

“Don't call them that! They're doing fine, doing well in school and all.”

 

“No highschool drama? I heard those were the best.”

 

“We have to shop, Rex.”

 

“Bummer. Here, give me that.”

 

He suddenly snatches the small piece of paper from his friend's hand and skitters off, ignoring the small gasp behind him. It seemed like basic stuff, but she uses the Internet and he doesn't, so whatever she found had to be good if she was that desperate to cook and eat it.

 

“Parmesan cheese?” The redhead grins. “Sounds good, I like cheese. Me and little shit here will be in charge of that.”

 

“You wanna be in charge of cheese?” The brunette tilted their head.

 

“Hell, I'll take butter too. Oh, and milk!” He bounces slightly, alerting the infant. “All the cow-type stuff!”

 

Rae stares at him again. “You mean… dairy?”

 

Maybe he should have taken those classes Cecil offered to him. Oh well.

 

“Ah, whatever you wanna call it, I got it covered–”

 

A large explosion spears its way through the streets and into the shop. The hero duo stumble in their steps, Rex unnoticing the yellow box falling from his grasp as instead both hands instinctively fly up to cover the infant from the destruction. He turns and sees the mess outside; another villain terrorizing the locals, roaring out its anger that echoed down the road.

 

A smirk spreads to Rex's lips. He looks down at the blue bundle of joy and drool.

 

“Hear that, little shit?”

 

Rex reaches down and grabs a cookie that fell from the box and lights it up between his fingers. “Someone just signed up for an ass-kicking.”

 

Rex and the baby laugh as he charges towards the broken glass doors.

 

“Wait, Rex, not with the–!” Rae warns, but only groans as Rex disappears into the smoke. With a heavy sigh, Rae quickly follows after him, abandoning the cart and list on the floor.

 

So much for normality.

 

____

 

His wrists hurt again.

 

Rex holds a still face as he and Rae enter the base. He hears Amanda and Shapesmith talking downstairs, probably about something stupid, but decides he'll let them be and instead calmly makes his way down, holding his gaze onto the floor.

 

“Woah, what happened to you two?” Kate questions as she passes by, holding a laundry basket in her hands.

 

“Douchebag attacking people again.” Rae grumbles, brows knitted. “Looks like we're just getting pizza tonight.”

 

Rex frowns. “We can still–”

 

“Did you fight someone with a broken arm?” Kate’s eyes sharpened as she stared at the brunette. “Rae!”

 

“It's not broken! Not as much.” They scoff. “I promise I was fine.”

 

“Rex, did you bring a baby to a fight?” Amanda's voice cuts in as she peeks over the couch and sees Rex cradling the baby close to him.

 

“Uh …” Rex looks at the hybrid, who was chewing on his own hand. “No?”

 

“Duo of the year.” Kate leers. “Rae, just have Rudy check your arm. Rex, be sure Mark doesn't find out about that.”

 

“Speaking of,” Rae turns to the black-haired woman, “where is Mark? Wasn't he supposed to come back? It's evening.”

 

Kate shrugs, walking away. “Beats me. Cecil is probably still yelling his ear off.”

 

The darker redhead pouts. Mark's only been gone a couple of hours, but Rex only now realized how much he missed the guy despite the short amount of time. Two months was bad enough, not knowing what the hell was happening in space while he was gone; now he's concerned about where he could be on Earth too.

 

Weird. Rex thinks. He doesn't like to worry; he shouldn't worry. He knew Mark was fine, even if he was being yelled at by Cecil, but it didn't change the lingering dread that floated in his stomach. He knew where he was, so why was he thinking so hard about it? Did he want to see him again? They only got to be around each other for a few hours before Mark had to take off. Yeah, yeah, that had to be it. It's been years since the duo have been separated for that long; obviously it was going to be weird for Rex.

 

“Don't worry, he'll be back soon.” The hero shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure he's aware this thing is attached to him.”

 

“Stop calling the baby names!” Rae calls after him as Rex starts walking towards his bedroom. No, he probably won't stop; that's what makes it fun.

 

As soon as he arrives inside the spacious room, he shuts the door and instantly removes the baby from the handmade pouch and makes his way over to the crib.

 

“Okay, enough of you.” Rex places the baby inside his resting area. “Pretty sure your saliva is going to get me sick, by the way.”

 

The baby coos and hoists himself up, grabbing the edges of the pink hedges and looking directly at Rex as the hero flops down on the bed not too far from him.

 

“Can't believe I got stuck with babysitting duty again.” He complains, grabbing the pillow beside his head and throwing it on top of him. “First Shapesmith, now you. Mark's brother. That's a weird thing to say.”

 

He probably wouldn't get used to the idea of Mark having a sibling for a long time. For years, it was just Mark, only Mark, and now here comes another… Grayson? The thing didn't even have a name; why would he have a last name in the first place?

 

“I just… don't get it.” Rex mumbles into the pillow. “A new family member comes in, and I already know Mark is going to spend so much time with you that he'll be too busy to–”

 

Wait, no, what is he saying?

 

“Wait, shit.” The hero throws the pillow off his head. “No, that's dumb. That wouldn't happen, right? I mean, you can't even do much anyway; you're like three days old.”

 

He wasn't, but to Rex, all babies look pretty young to him. Even so, he knew he was starting to sound ridiculous by making all these assumptions about a literal infant. Rex pushes himself up on his hands, wincing at the straining feeling from his wrists, and stares across to lock eyes with the baby. It was sort of creepy how big his eyes were compared to everyone else he knows, even Aquarus, but he also looked a little funny. The baby smiles and jumps in the crib, a tiny hand reaching out towards Rex.

 

“What?” Rex grins. “Not bored with me yet? You really don't like to sleep, huh?”

 

When Rex actually does look at him, he is kind of cute. Even with the bug-like features and constantly drooling onto the redhead for no apparent reason, he was a sweet baby from what Rex had seen. Doesn't really cry, enjoys hugging people, hasn't tried to bite anyone yet; honestly, more babies should be more like him. Rex stands again and trots over to the baby, reaching down and scooping him up in his arms, earning a happy squeal from the little blue guy.

 

The baby makes a small sound and flops his body weight onto Rex, tiny chin resting on the other’s broad shoulders as his rough-skinned hand reaches for the dark red hair that fell from Rex's scalp. He knew he would probably start aggressively pulling at it, but Rex reaches up and around anyway and tugs out the hair tie, letting the strands fall behind his neck and shoulders and easily in the baby's line of sight.

 

“Mark says you age fast,” the dark redhead points out as he starts pacing around his room, “so now I'm wondering when you were actually born. Maybe a month ago? No, wait, he said you were there when he arrived. Uh, perhaps three months? Five? How fucking old are you?”

 

The baby responds by grabbing a lock of hair and stuffing it in his mouth, his pincers seemingly trying to rip some of it off. Rex takes a mental note he's definitely taking a shower later.

 

“Okay, fair answer.” He scoffs. The dark redhead looks around his bedroom for a moment, then his eyes land on something, and he grins. He gathers a couple of things before swinging his door open, quickly walking down the hallway, and right into the main area of the base.

 

“Uh, where are you going?” He hears Zandale ask from behind him.

 

“Don't worry about it!” Rex replies as he's rushing up the stairs. “Bonding time, see ya guys.”

 

Rudy says something too, but that's less important for Rex. He eventually reaches the outside area and meets the darkening sky above. Perfect timing. Rex carefully walks to the edge of the balcony and sits down, holding the insectoid close to him on his lap as he sets up.

 

“Okay, little cockroach baby,” Rex looks down at him, “ready for flashing colors and bright lights?”

 

The baby claps, kicking his feet a little as Rex grabs his noise-cancelling headphones and fits them on the round head of the bug-like hybrid. They weren't the perfect fit, to be honest, but they were enough to settle on his ears and block out any loud noises that could startle him. He doesn't need a crying baby in his care right now. Then, he grabs a special capsule and–

 

“Watch this.”

 

Lights the piece up and tosses it high in the air. It spins and spins and spins until suddenly it explodes high above, and splashes of light decorate the purple sky. He feels the baby jump in his lap, uninterested in the empty hand of the hero and instead gazing at the fireworks show the older man had put on. Rex chuckles to himself, lighting another and doing the same action as previously. The baby was giggling at this point, reaching up to grab at the flashing lights, unaware that was impossible.

 

“Nah, we don't need you to lose any fingers.” Rex pats the fluffy head, tossing more at a time. “Plus, you probably wouldn't feel the same if you didn't have these on.”

 

Eve’s Christmas present from a few years ago. He always forgets he has it to use; it probably would have saved him a couple of headaches.

 

“Didn't know you were throwing a party.”

 

Rex jolts where he sits, immediately whipping around and seeing the familiar blue-grey shirt and typical khakis of the man he was all too familiar with. He half-shrugs, bringing his attention back to the infant, who still kept his red eyes on the mixture of colors.

 

“Thought I'd make a special occasion.” Rex says, listening as the other hero lands on his feet and walks over to the duo. “He seems to like it.”

 

“Wow, you're actually bonding with him.” Mark chuckles, taking a seat next to them. “When was the last time you set off fireworks?”

 

Rex's wrist begins to sting. “Not since that Fourth of July thing two years ago, I think. I don't know, never put too much thought into it–”

 

Rex's words trail off when he finally looks at the paler man. His first thought was how nice Mark looked in the mixture of colors and gleams in front of them. Each color bounced off nicely on his skin, hair, and eyes, and Rex felt a little dumb for never noticing before. But then whatever he was thinking was replaced with the acknowledgement of how disheveled he looked. His hair was sticking out all over the place at all angles, his body language was enough to tell Rex he wasn't entirely relaxed, and his eyes were… he looked exhausted. Truly exhausted.

 

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Rex raises a brow, unaware that the baby in his hold is now trying to reach Mark, finally noticing him. Mark nods, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Had that talk with Cecil and Donald, then I had to go see the Guardians.” He smiles lightly. “Turns out, they discovered a few things while I was gone. Or, well, made a hypothesis.”

 

“And that is?” Rex questions, tossing another capsule up.

 

“Turns out, I have really sensitive hearing.”

 

Rex slowly turns his head when the fireworks go off, blinking slowly at his best friend. “Excuse me?”

 

“Remember the depth dweller?”

 

He nods.

 

“And how I said it was extremely loud, even for me?”

 

He nods again.

 

“Well… we think we found a possible weakness for–”

 

“Did you use yourself as a test subject?”

 

Mark falls silent. Rex glares at him.

 

“You and that damn brain of yours.”

 

“It was important!” Mark defends. “It was, uh, well, shit–”

 

Rex cracks a grin. “You said a curse word.”

 

“I've said them before!”

 

“It's still funny.”

 

Mark looks away. Rex sighs and pushes the stuff away, picking up the baby and holding him up to Mark. “I know this is a lot coming from me, but we gotta find more humane ways to throw you in the guts of experimentation.”

 

The paler man is quiet for a second. “When you're a hero, there's no humane way to test out your abilities.”

 

“Comparing it to testing is ironic.”

 

“What else would it be?”

 

“Breaking your brain each day more and more.”

 

“Rex.”

 

“Mark.”

 

Mark eventually does take his brother in his hands, not looking at the other hero. The baby babbles against him, his antenna twitching on Mark's face as his hands reach up for him. Mark smiles, cradling the infant close to his chest. Rex clicks his tongue against his teeth, looking between the two brothers.

 

“He is going to need a name, by the way.” Rex says. “Amanda has started calling him the bug baby.”

 

Mark side-eyes him. “What have you been calling him?”

 

“... Nothing.”

 

Mark frowns but still lets himself relax as his brother steals all of his attention away. “I'm sorry for stressing you out these past couple of months.”

 

“I'm always stressed.” Rex shrugs. “Have been since the day I was born. I know you're tough and don't need someone to constantly check on you or anything, but you're my friend, you know? It's how you feel about me.”

 

Mark's head whips over to Rex at high speed. The other man almost jumps from the sudden fast movement.

 

“What?!”

 

“You know, always thinking I'm going to get squished by a tank or something?”

 

Mark slowly blinks, his face relaxing. “Oh, oh, you meant that.”

 

Rex's face twists into confusion. “What did you–”

 

“My ears are still ringing.” Mark says, fast.

 

“Whatever, man.”

 

Rex grabs more of his things and throws them all up at once, sparking more fireworks. Some days were odd like this; Mark could quite literally be thrown into a volcano and come out unscathed, and Rex would still hate it. Yeah, his best friend is invincible, but now more fears dawned on him ever since Mark showed him that scar. Nothing was ever able to pierce through his skin, but now he comes back with a new mark, and suddenly it was like he did have to worry about him.

 

“You're thinking.” Mark jokes beside him. “What is it?”

 

“It's about how much of a dork you are.” Rex rubs his head. “And how you owe me food because I babysat your brother all day.”

 

“All day?”

 

“I carried him.”

 

“Don't say it like that.”

 

The duo burst out laughing. Rex slaps a hand on Mark's other shoulder and brings him close, practically butting heads.

 

“You're going to give me gray hairs.” Rex laughs.

 

“You first.” Mark replies.

 

“We're probably going to get it at the same time, anyway.”

 

Mark instantly grows quiet. Slowly, he pulls away from Rex, still cradling his brother close to him. Rex blinks, arching a brow, thinking he said something bad and Mark was upset at him for it.

 

Instead, Mark sighs and turns his entire body to the hero.

 

“Rex, there's something else I have to tell you about Viltrumites.”

 

Rex freezes; Mark doesn't even look at him– he's looking at the baby.

 

“But first, I need to talk to everyone else about something regarding my brother.”

Notes:

Okay before we get to the notes part <3

College is throwing things at me left and right, and I'm a little out of it lol, so this fic is going on a short hiatus! No uploads next week unfortunately, but I'll try and be active on my Tumblr for the meantime :)

Anyway, onto today's thoughts:
~This was originally another Mark chapter, but I decided to change it to Rex because I think seeing his pov on things, especially how he used to view his relationship with Mark then vs now, was important as well as I love writing him he's my favorite ever. He and Oliver interactions are cute, and I'll just say I can't wait to name him next chapter because I keep nearly messing up and calling him Oliver before anyone even gives him the name LMAO
~Ngl by Rex's speech alone in the show, I always imagined he just... Never had the idea of living a normal life. To him (as he explained it in the show), being a hero is all he has. Rae is trying to gain it back for herself since her parents did take that from her, but Rex is already used to the idea of just being a hero and that's it... My shayla
~Speaking of Rae, her life is genuinely pretty sad, even if we didn't get much info about it (maybe yet? Depends what the writers want to do lmao). I may have added the younger siblings part for more angst martial, but also, she gives me big sister vibes and idk why lol. I love Rae sm I'm so happy they kept her alive in the show and gave her more of a backstory than just killing her off like Ray... Lowkey a little funny
~Oliver is a cutie patootie send tweet

Anyway!! Now we arrive to the hiatus, hope you all enjoyed and see you in the next chapter 😄

Chapter 19: Chapter Nineteen

Summary:

Rex's expression doesn't change.

 

“Is there something you're not telling me?”

 

Damn it.

 

“Well, a few months ago,” Mark seems to have slouched against the seat, “when Allen visited, I… got some news and…”

Notes:

I'M BBACK!! Hey everyone how you doing

Before we start, please give this a quick read:

I'm going to change the biweekly updates to weekly updates because I have to focus on some stuff irl as well as not wanting to lose motivation for the story (PLEEEASASESS I have the ending and everything I can't back out not yet) (I say as there's still possible 30+ chapters planned). They'll either be posted on Wednesdays or Saturdays per usual, but for the sake of writing yaoi and continue to write it, have to take small steps just for a little bit! Maybe every once in a while, I'll post two chapters a week but that depends when I stop playing DBD all the time lmao

Anyway, thank you!! Enjoy the chapter :)

Sounds were never a problem for Mark.

 

At least, that used to be true. He was fine with loud noises as a kid, whether it was from turning up the TV for Seance Dog or loud birthday parties that the half-human never noticed because he was too busy having fun. Every assignment thrown at him, hurled at him, or stuck out to him– nothing ever bothered him.

 

But now his ears were ringing. He was curled on the floor, holding his ears, and his eyes were held tightly shut. It was louder than he expected, but the young man told Cecil to put it as loud as he could. He knew the consequences of what could happen, and he still allowed it.

 

Because they needed everything they could to protect Earth from the oncoming Empire. Mark takes a deep breath and slowly pushes himself up, grinding his teeth together as the ringing in his ears slowly drifts away.

 

“Mark? Mark!”

 

Rough hands grab him from behind, a familiar weight resting against the hero's back as his senses finally begin to crawl back to him. He shakes his head and uses one knee to pull himself up, finally adjusting back to the reality around him. In one of the testing rooms with Cecil, Donald, and the Guardians. He couldn't see all of them at the moment, but he sensed they weren't too far from where he stood. Everyone was here to watch him and observe the damage the loud, piercing noise does to him.

 

“I'm fine.” He spits, slowly removing his hands from his head. “The sound works. It works well enough.”

 

Mark’s vision was nearly blurry. The half-human hero stumbles in his steps in a direction he blindly led himself through, but eventually, his body falls and he's sitting on one of the benches within the testing room. His mind danced through the sounds as voices echoed around him, yet the noise of it all never crept to his attention. Instead, rapid buzzing popped in his head, fogging any thoughts that could help him gain more awareness of the situation at hand.

 

“Mark?”

 

Mark lifts his head, but he doesn't comprehend who he's looking at until he blinks and blinks and then finally makes out the figure of the white-haired director standing over him. The younger man opens his mind to reply, but instead, his voice only throws quiet, and not a peep escapes his lips.

 

“Are you alright?” Cecil asks, leaning down slightly to get a better look at Mark, lifting the man's head. “Did we go too far?”

 

Did we go too far? Something Cecil never says. Mark shakes his head as a response, moving his head away and lifting his hands up to his ears again. He thinks he hears Immortal or Martian Man say something to each other or to the rest of the group, but Mark couldn't exactly comprehend what they were saying either. It's as if his ears had exploded, and he was barely able to distinguish any words anyone was saying. This was a new experience for him, but he couldn't bring himself to be angry or surprised by it. It was a mess, of course, but the discovery of it all was worth it.

 

Is it worth it?

 

Mark freezes when he hears a familiar voice echo in his head. The older man in front of him seems to have noticed the quick change in energy, because he instantly straightens Mark up himself and yells over his shoulder for some water or maybe a snack for the young man. It was all still so blurry. Slowly, Mark stands, brushes off the need for water, and takes a few steps away from the group.

 

Is it worth it?

 

Mark bites his lip, inhaling sharply, and stands at the front of the exit. The ringing had long disappeared from his hearing, but he still couldn't hear everything around him.

 

You only know pain. Is it worth it?

 

The scar burned at his side.

 

I miss you. Is it worth it?

 

Mark misses home, yet he was already home.

 

Pain has only ever been your enemy. So, is it worth it?

 

Always. It was always worth it.

 

“Mark?”

 

Mark’s head snaps up when Cecil's sharp tone penetrates through his thoughts. He slowly turns in his steps, head held high but hesitant, as his eyes lock onto the scarred man. They breach away to look at the Guardians behind him, then back at the old man.

 

“Sorry,” Mark says slowly, “what were you saying?”

 

“Was the ringing too–”

 

“No.”

 

He answered faster than he could process it. The half-human hero coughs lightly and scratches the side of his head.

 

“Well, it was for, I guess, Viltrumite standards.” Mark grimaces. “But I'm fine.”

 

“I believe you,” Cecil places his hands on his lips, “but that doesn't mean I'm not going to check on you. Your hearing okay?”

 

“As good as ever.”

 

“And that scattered brain of yours?”

 

“As mushed as ever.”

 

It was a joke, plain and simple. Yet, Mark didn't crack a smile. “I have to go; it's getting late, and I promised the others I'd go back for my brother.”

 

Cecil nods. “All right. You sure you don't want him here? The offer is always on the table.”

 

“I know what I decided.” Mark crossed his arms but didn't hold any resentment on his face. “Um, do you mind if you walk with me?”

 

The director is surprised; he tilts his head with a raised brow, and Mark only waits for an answer. With a small grunt, Cecil nods, and the two walk out of the area in temporary silence.

 

“On the way home,” Mark licks his lips, “I was thinking.”

 

“Were you?” Cecil questions, adjusting his tie. Mark lets out a breathy laugh, tugging at the edge of his new suit, suddenly feeling the need to strip it off and put on casual clothing. It felt too tight, tighter than it's ever been, and his body was reacting heavily against it.

 

“I guess.” He shrugs. “I was just… reflecting on some of the stuff that I've done the past few months.”

 

“Months.”

 

“Maybe years.” Mark shrugs again. “But I know I haven't been the easiest to deal with as of late.”

 

Cecil shakes his head, pausing at the foot of Mark's door as the younger man walks inside. “Well, I try to blame it on puberty, but you've had your moments.”

 

Mark frowns as he creaks the door to a near close, enough where he can hear the scarred man talk but not wide or open enough to the point anyone can see the hero change inside. The black-haired man quickly but carefully removes the suit as he stumbles into his walk-in closet.

 

“I really do want to listen and follow orders.” Mark starts off, picking up his typical grey-blue shirt and khakis. “I know I said that before, and I know I have… not kept that promise before.”

 

“Plenty of times.” The man behind the door huffs.

 

Mark huffs, finally stripping the suit down to his ankles. “I really want to keep it this time, but I also have my own proposal that I hope we can come to an agreement on something.”

 

A pregnant pause hung in the air between the two men. Mark was afraid he had stepped over a line, and he didn't know if he had the energy to argue with it.

 

“Okay…” the dragged-out words perked behind Mark's door. “How ridiculous is it?”

 

“It's not ridiculous.” Mark argues from the other end. “It's something I did think about and wanted to… present it. Maturely. Yeah, maturely present it.”

 

He did not think through what he was going to say.

 

“Kid–”

 

“I want to be able to make my own decisions when it comes to missions.”

 

Technically, he could. He always could if he wanted to. Everyone knows this; he remembers when Cecil told him long ago that no one in the building is capable of stopping him. But Mark always tried to follow orders, always kept his morals in check, and kept his head held high. He was older, and while he was definitely impulsive, he wanted to make it up to Cecil more than anything. But that doesn't mean he wanted to follow commands forever. After the fight at Thraxa and seeing the mess he had caused, he wanted to take a bigger step than what he was truly offering.

 

“Well, on good days, you can make a good decision.” He hears the older director say on the other side. “But what does that exactly have to–”

 

Mark swings open the door, revealing himself in his casual outfit. “While Thraxa was… tragic, and I regret the loss of everyone who died there, I do feel like it was still something that I was meant to do.”

 

Cecil crosses his arms, letting the younger hero continue.

 

“Because I feel like, if I didn't, all Thraxans would have been dead right now. My brother… he would either be taken by Nolan or worse. Andressa would never have properly said goodbye to him.”

 

Mark's mother was treated like a pet by Nolan, so why would Andressa be any different?

 

“So, I want to come to an agreement.”

 

This felt odd. Mark remembers being young and excited to be a hero and follow the rules of the agency that raised him. But after Thraxa, he needed to do more. He needed to prove more that he was ready. Following orders will present him enough, but eventually, Cecil isn't going to be around anymore. Perhaps not Donald either. And who knows what could happen to the Guardians or his friends in the next couple of years?

 

It doesn't matter anyway. He'll end up alone eventually.

 

In the next couple of months. His body shivers.

 

“Agreement?” Cecil's brows furrowed, but his expression wasn't exactly unkind. “So, you're ready to be an adult. Is that it?”

 

Mark slowly shrugs. “Something like that. But not just be an adult, but a hero too.”

 

The white-haired man's expression softens at that.

 

“I meant it when I said I don't regret going to Thraxa.” Mark looks away. “I think it was a good decision to go by.”

 

Cecil stares at Mark. Mark is staring at the floor.

 

“Go see your brother, Mark.” Cecil turns from the muscular hero. “You're going to have to break the news that they're the babysitting team now.”

 

“… All right.”

 

At least it's not a no.

 

“Um, before I go… I have one more favor to ask.”

 

____

 

“WHAT?!”

 

Mark is too busy looking at the insectoid infant to see Amanda's expression, but by her voice alone, she wasn't exactly thrilled with the request Mark had proposed to the group of individuals.

 

“Uh… so, a baby, huh?” Rex says next to him, looking over his friend's shoulder at the little guy. “You want us to… keep… a baby here?”

 

Would it be bad to point out Rex wasn't entirely on board with the baby being raised by the government like them? Probably.

 

“We're not exactly the most qualified to care for a baby.” Zandale points out. “Well, not me, at least. Never even held my baby cousins.”

 

“Mark, is there a real reason for this?” Rae steps in front of Amanda, who was still trying to process the major request presented to her. “I know you guys kind of already had this talk, but you and Cecil always seem to get along great, and you turned up as an amazing hero. So, what gives?”

 

The taller man sighs and leans back in the chair, ruffling his hand through the infant's hair. “I am grateful for what the GDA has done for me.”

 

Rex lightly snorts from behind him.

 

“But I didn't have a normal childhood.” the hero slouches. “Some of us here didn't. Cecil did all he could, and I get why I couldn't after what happened, but it still sucks to think about.”

 

Amanda's face softens. “Oh, yeah, that would kind of fuck someone up.”

 

In the corner, Kate lifts her head, gently staring at Mark. “He's right. You're trained to be a hero for the government, not a human being. Birthdays, holidays, vacations– that's basically nonexistent. You're either born lucky or you're not.”

 

She shifts on her feet, looking away uncomfortably. “Even if you had a decent guy to look after you, compared to the rest of us, Oliver could end up at the dead end of the stick. He could go down a path that just starts and ends in blood with no faith in changing.”

 

“Plus, realistically,” Rex pats Mark on the shoulder, “I know you're Cecil's precious kid and all–”

 

“Rex–”

 

“But it doesn't change the fact you were also experimented on by the shit show of a government.”

 

He couldn't argue with that. Blood tests, training sessions, assignments on his abilities– he was no fool. Even if he got a softer start, Kate had a point– he's a hero first and foremost in the eyes of executives. The same with Rex, Kate, and whoever else was unfortunate enough to fall into their hands.

 

“And he's a Viltrumite. Just like me.” Mark grimaces, holding the blue baby up towards Rex, who silently takes him. “He ages faster, so he'd probably get his powers sooner. He would go through everything I did. That's why I want him to have a somewhat normal childhood.”

 

“We're not exactly the best group for that.” Kate scratches the side of her neck. “I mean, none of us know how to raise a kid exactly. Plus, we also have a job to protect people and fight criminals on a daily basis . What can we do for the kid?”

 

“He may be capable.” Shapesmith suddenly pops from behind Zandale, who jumps from the unexpected surprise. “I mean, look at him! He was walking earlier today!”

 

“Is that the only observation you had?” Rex frowns, holding the baby close to him. Shapesmith shrugs.

 

“But from what I have heard from you all,” the Martian beams, “we do not give up, even at our lowest. Maybe we can prove the same for the little one.”

 

“It's different with a baby.” Rae snickers but does take a look at the red-eyed infant. “But I get what you mean. Growing up with the pressure of hero work and powers isn't the ideal childhood.”

 

“Or constantly getting hurt.” Shapesmith’s head lowers. “That's my least favorite thing about being a hero.”

 

Rex shrugs. “Can't argue with that.”

 

Amanda crosses and uncrosses her arms, looking over at Rudy, who sat by the stairs with a silent look. Then, with a heavy sigh, the paler woman wraps her arms around herself and whistles.

 

“Does raising the kid involve us all?”

 

Mark thinks for a second. “I am pretty much asking everyone on teen team for their assistance.”

 

“I'd rather be the cool aunt that hangs back.” Amanda smirks. “But because I like you, Mark, and the baby is cute, I guess I could sign up for the nanny program.”

 

“That's a lot of responsibility.” Zandale huffs, though no venom is heard in his voice. “I will just get the baby food, and that's it.”

 

“Is his crib staying in my room or?” The darker redhead looks over at the group, then at Mark. “You owe me big time.”

 

“You technically owe us all.” Kate walks over, shifting a clone into existence and letting Rex gift her the joy of holding the little hybrid. “You're cool, Mark, but this isn't something we can do for free just because governments are horrible.”

 

“That's a fair rearrangement.” Mark chuckles. “I wasn't going to just come here and give you my brother without something in return.”

 

“Smart boy.” Rae grins.

 

Mark stands and brushes himself off. “I put in a request that you guys get paid more.”

 

“Wait, what?” Rex looks over at that, pausing mid-walk to the kitchen.

 

“… Like, actually?” Amanda blinks.

 

“But we're not connected by the GDA or any agency.” Rudy finally stands, walking up next to Amanda. “That was established after Radcliffe's passing.”

 

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice the sour look on Rex's face when Rudy brought that up.

 

“Yeah,” Mark stuffs his hands in his pockets, “I know. So, imagine it as… a salary that isn’t government mandated.”

 

Everyone is staring at him.

 

“Money is money.” Zandale crosses his arms and shrugs. “I ain't complaining.”

 

“Are you basically our bank now?” Rae questions.

 

“Something like that.” Mark smiles nervously. “I'm still working on it, but I promise I will definitely repay you guys for this.”

 

Rudy tilts his head. “Two months, and you almost sound like a new person. But at the same time, you're still the same Mark I met all those years ago.”

 

This time, Mark genuinely smiles. “I try my best to keep everything in check.”

 

“And fails.” Rex jokes, bumping shoulders with the paler man. “All for the sake of saving lives.”

 

“That's what we do best!” Shapesmith beams. “I love saving lives! I've always wanted to do it since I was young.”

 

Rae blinks. “Did you?”

 

“Yes! And explore the stars. And collect other minerals on my home planet.”

 

Rex smirks. “You know what? I can get behind that.”

 

Mark sighs in relief. It wasn't over, and it would still be a rough journey for everyone involved, but he was glad he came to an understanding with his friends. He hears the baby coo from behind, and then the duplicate’s voice breaking through his eardrums.

 

“He's going to need a name.” She says, bouncing the growing baby. “Or else I'm going to keep calling him a bedbug.”

 

“Better than Rex's suggestion.” Rae laughs. Rex gasps in fake offense.

 

“Hey! Little Shit is a good name!”

 

“Don't call him that.” Mark frowns.

 

“She is right, though.” Zandale points over at the clone. “Little dude will need a name. Will probably help with development or something. I don't know shit about kids.”

 

“First run, I guess.” Amanda shrugs. “Mark, you should make the call. He's your brother.”

 

True. He respected the Thraxan’s tradition of letting the infant choose their name when they come of age, but now that they're on Earth, it was a little complicated. He doesn't know when his brother will actually reach the proper age to pick a name, and if he's going to be around Rex, Amanda, and most likely Shapesmith, he will definitely pick an improper name. Was he being too judgmental? Yes. Is he justified? Also yes. He knows Rex too well and is aware he will influence the baby. Amanda was calmer but also had a sense of humor that he's afraid his brother may pick up, and he still doesn't know what's going on with Shapesmith.

 

The half-human thinks for a minute, tapping his chin. He glances at the baby, who's still smiling, and takes a deep breath.

 

“How about… Oliver?”

 

“Oliver?” Rex’s head perks up. “Like, grandfather Oliver?”

 

“Who?” Amanda raises a brow.

 

“My grandfather.” Mark chuckles softly. “Uh, he was a great guy, but he died before my tenth birthday. I think it'd be nice to have some family ties between him, my mom, and my brother, since he's part of the family now too.”

 

Oliver will never meet them, but Mark knows, despite everything, they would have loved him as much as he does. His mother was the kindest woman he's ever known; despite the circumstances, she would accept his brother just as he is, as she learned that directly from her own father. Oliver is his family now. Some lost shards can connect together as long as there is another to secure them.

 

“Sentimental.” Kate smirks, crossing one leg over the other. “As long as we can call him something, I'm down. Hey, Oliver.”

 

The baby perks up immediately, looking over at the original Kate while he bounces in the clone’s arms, his antenna twitching. Mark takes a deep breath, feeling as if a massive weight had finally lifted off his shoulders.

 

“I can't thank you guys enough.” He smiles. This feels undeserved– especially knowing the amount of stress he put everyone through when he disappeared. “This means a lot.”

 

“Eh, we try.” Amanda gently smiles back. “Plus, raising an alien baby can't be that hard, right?”

 

“The hardest part is changing diapers, in my opinion.” Zandale shrugs, leaning against the wall. “Kidding. As long as he keeps aging fast, sure.”

 

“I know a few tricks.” Rae stands in front of the Kate duplicate, gazing down at the blue baby. “Having little siblings comes with its perks.”

 

Mark nods. “Yeah, I imagine so. Um… so, Rex, I need to talk to you in private.”

 

Rex raises a brow, stopping mid-sip of a drink he had collected. “What’d I do?”

 

“It's important.”

 

Mark hears a snicker from Amanda and Rae but decides to ignore it. The other hero quickly takes another jug, then slams the cup down and trots over to his room, already expecting the paler man to follow him. The black-haired hero takes a deep breath and takes cautious steps after his friend. They would probably be questioned about this another time, but Mark really needed to talk to Rex, no matter if it had anyone else wondering what secrets and words they kept from them.

 

“So, what's up?” Rex enters his room and instantly takes a seat on his messy bed. Mark shuts the door behind him and licks his lips, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

 

“God, this feels awkward.” Mark grunts, pulling out Rex's seat from the side of the room and sitting down, tucking his legs together. “Um, wow, okay.”

 

“Take your time.”

 

“Don't say it like that.”

 

“I'll say it however I want.”

 

The paler man chuckles. “Alright, um, so you remember when you said we'll grow grey hair together?”

 

Rex blinks. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

“No!” Mark throws up his hands. “No, no! I think it's nice that you said that. I do think you would have grown grey hair before I did, though.”

 

Rex's expression doesn't change.

 

“Is there something you're not telling me?”

 

Damn it.

 

“Well, a few months ago,” Mark seems to have slouched against the seat, “when Allen visited, I… got some news and…”

 

Just rip it off!

 

“I basically found out I'm kind of immortal, and by the time you pass, I'll still be alive, and I probably will be for a long time or even forever.”

 

Silence. Rex is staring at him, dumbfounded. Mark is staring back, biting the inner side of his cheek.

 

“What?”

 

“I don't have a normal human lifespan.”

 

“But we aged at the same time!”

 

“Well, for the beginning of my life. But I guess I'll be living longer than I expected.”

 

“Like… Immortal?”

 

Mark nods.

 

“What the fuck?!” Rex's face finally changed, shifting from confusion to anger. “You've known for THAT long and didn't think to tell me?!”

 

He frowns. “It's not really easy, dude–”

 

Rex huffs and looks away, nose scrunched. “My best friend is immortal, and he didn't think to let me know. It's great! I'm feeling great! I am great. How the fuck am I supposed to process that?!”

 

The half-human feels the blood underneath his skin begin to boil. “It's not easy for me either! I have to watch you all die while there's nothing I can do about it!”

 

The darker redhead stands. “That's the thing, Mark! When we're all dead, which will happen, what will happen to you?! I have to die knowing you're going to end up alone without anyone?!”

 

He pauses. Mark couldn't stop and process the flooding red that flushed his cheeks, and he was definitely internally screaming from what the other man had said, even though it wasn't exactly the time to really laugh over it. Mark coughs into his fist, his dark eyes darting to the floor, his other hand curling into the fabric of the pants he wore.

 

“I– well…” he laughs, baring his fangs more than he intended. “I guess I have Oliver now. And I mean… Immortal and War Woman are here, too.”

 

“You know damn well you're not focused on that.”

 

He nods. “Yeah.”

 

Even if Mark did have a few people he could rely on for a millennium, it doesn't change the fact he's going to outlive everyone that he loves tremendously. The Guardians were simple work friends, but everyone else was everything to him. Cecil and Donald helped Mark when he had no one and raised him to be a considerate man. Rex became his sole reason to be better and become stronger; without him, Mark isn't exactly sure where his moral compass would entirely stand. Eve helped him balance his powers and learn to live a little when he needed it. Everyone was important to him, all of them. He's known them for so long, and now he'll grieve them longer than he knew them.

 

A repeated process. He's already familiar with it.

 

“I’m afraid, to be honest.” Mark lifts his head and locks eyes with his friend. “I was afraid when I learned the Empire could come here any day and kill each and every one of you and leave me stranded here. Then I learned even if that never happens, it almost doesn't matter, because I'm going to live a long time and barely age anyway.”

 

Rex's expression changes, and he opens his mouth to respond, but Mark is quicker to continue.

 

“But that doesn't change the fact that I want to protect our planet. I don't care how long I'll live or if I do end up the last hero on Earth, because everyone that comes after should know freedom and choice without living in fear for the rest of their lives.”

 

“What are you say–”

 

He looks down at the floor again, tears striking his eyes. “That's what makes us human, and it's where my best memories were born. I don't want… I don't want to be like Him, because this is our home, where we grew up, where we made promises. I want others to experience that. I just don't want to do it alone, but… I think… I think I'm terrified, Rex.”

 

So much to say, so much to confess. Mark has always thought time went slow as he aged and grew, but once he learned the truth, he was afraid to blink. Because he believes if he does, a century will pass, and everyone will be gone. Cecil and Donald will be gone. Eve and everyone will be gone. Rex will be gone. He'll have Oliver, but he ages quickly– will he eventually die too? Does the Viltrumite lifespan apply to him too?

 

Mark had suddenly felt small again. He feels like the same boy who woke up knowing he no longer had his mother; she was gone, and she will continue to be gone forever. Mark will live longer than she ever could imagine. He'll barely age by the time he's twice her age.

 

“I didn't want you to–”

 

“Mark, shut the fuck up.”

 

Rex throws an arm around Mark and rests his chin in the smooth black mane on his head. “Don't think like that; it makes you look stupid.”

 

Mark moves to glance up at the other man.

 

“I'm only nineteen, dude.” Rex pats his shoulder. “And I've survived some pretty crazy shit in my life. I'm not dying anytime soon; no one is. We're all tough and young, and I'm incredibly handsome.”

 

Mark lets out a shaky laugh. “I don't see how that connects.”

 

“It does.” He grins. “But while I am a little mad that you didn't tell me sooner, I don't think I can blame you. That's some really fucked-up shit to learn about yourself, man. Honestly, if I were you, I'd pay the sun a visit and stare at it for a week to make me forget that I'm going to live longer than the dinosaurs did.”

 

Mark wipes his eyes. “Yeah, sorry. Looks like I've been stressing you– ow!”

 

Rex smacks the back of his head. “Stop being all sad and apologetic. We already had other stuff to cry over last night after you got back. I would rather appreciate the reality that you ARE back instead of letting you sleep in my bed like nothing happened and then ditching the next day, and I’d rather you live in the present instead of thinking of the future all the time. So, to ease your terrors and nightmares in the upcoming months, as your best friend, I am obligated to do something for you.”

 

Mark blinks. “Now? Your ideas of cheering people up usually involve alcohol, which I don't drink, by the way.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Rex’s mouth twists. “But no alcohol for the goody two-shoes. My main priority is cheering you up and making you forget about all that depressing stuff you've been cursed with since your eighteenth birthday.”

 

“That's not exactly easy.”

 

“With me, anything is easy.”

 

“So, you are easy?”

 

Rex pinches his ear. “Shut up. Anyway, I'll come up with something.”

 

Rex pulls away and walks in front of his friend, standing over him with his knuckles on his hips. “But while we're here, no more secrets between us, alright? I've known you since you were learning math, man.”

 

“… So were you.”

 

“Hush. Point is, be honest with me and tell me when you actually have something to say instead of doing your little impulse thing and running off to do whatever. Shit gets old, man.”

 

Mark snickers. “Alright, deal. No more secrets.”

 

A rough swallow followed after. “I… do have something to tell you. But I can't tell you right now; not yet at least.”

 

“Not yet? You keeping me on my toes?”

 

Mark grins. “It's not bad, I promise. I just need to find the right words before I tell you.”

 

Rex shrugs. “Eh, I'll take what I can get. Just don't forget that, or I'll blow your hair off.”

 

He nods, then Mark points a finger directly onto the redhead's chest. “Now, that goes for you, too, obviously. I know you have some secrets of your own, so don't hold out on me either.”

 

Rex smirks and holds up his hands. “Impressed by the topic change! Guilty! My wrists hurt!”

 

Mark blinks.

 

“I may have been angry while you were gone.”

 

It clicked in his head what Rex meant by that. “Rex! You're not supposed to go over your limit!”

 

“Technically, I don't have one. It just kind of happens when your body isn't exactly made to have powers, but scientists had other ideas.”

 

Mark stands and pushes Rex's shoulder, pouting. “What have you been doing to let that happen again?”

 

“Being angry, like I said. Anyway–”

 

“Get that checked out.”

 

“No.”

 

Mark kicks the side of his heel. Rex only grins.

 

“So, that's it, right?” Rex raises a brow. “For sure have nothing else to say… currently?”

 

The younger man nods. “I promise. Well, I think Cecil is letting me do my own thing from now on.”

 

“Cecil died and got replaced if that's the case.”

 

Mark hits him. “Don't say that.”

 

Meanwhile, it was Rae's turn to hold the baby close to her, staring in the direction of Rex's room, where the other two disappeared.

 

“You don't think they're arguing, right?” She asks, barely noticing the harsh tug of her hair. Kate shrugs, crossing her arms.

 

“Probably, or maybe they're being sentimental, or both.” She adds, then glances at the baby. “Can't believe we're actually taking in a baby.”

 

“Technically, by the looks of it, he's nearing the toddler stage of aging.” Rudy points out, poking his head around Rae. “He ages fast, so he should speak his first words any day now.”

 

Kate shrugs. “Just as long as he keeps aging, we shouldn't have to keep changing diapers pretty soon.”

 

“He still needs new clothes.” The taller woman shifts her eyes to Oliver. “We should be able to find something good for him pretty easily.”

 

The black-haired woman shrugs. “Yep, as well as future orders. Honestly, I'm kind of glad he's not going to be raised by the government. Those places really aren't fun.”

 

Shapesmith's head appears from above Rae, who lightly jumps from the sudden surprise. “Really? Cecil was pretty nice to me when Martian Man introduced us. He got me a race car bed.”

 

“A race car bed is different from living in a government agency.” Kate scoffs. “Look, we all have our opinions, but we basically made a giant promise we can't take back. So, let's just hope this ride isn't a bumpy one.”

 

Rae sighs, their brows furrowing as their eyes still lock onto the infant in their arms.

 

Let's just hope expectations won't be projected onto him like they had on her.

Notes:

WOOHOO okay chapter review

~Ngl I debated on Oliver keeping his name in this au because Debbie's reason was logical and I didn't know how to apply that before I realized Mark misses his family so boom boom we have Oliver sticking around
~Ngl, Mark and Rex's talk was harder to write than the talk with the team 😭 because in this au Mark is always thinking of the past or future and ever since he learned he's going to live a long time, it's been affecting his brain as of late and I didn't get to write that as much until now because I'm dramatic and love dramatic writing, but then actually writing it felt so cool. I feel like we didn't get a big enough reaction from Mark on the fact he is going to OUTLIVE everyone he knows and cares about ... But then again Nolan beat his ass not even a minute later so I don't think I can blame him for that
~Rex's brain rewires when he has to talk some sense into Mark but only for a second. They both become mudskippers when that happens /silly
~This chapter is slightly shorter I knooowwww I was barely writing before my break because I was experiencing freedom (dead by daylight) BUT soon we are going to have a lot of intense moments 😈 stay tuned

Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty

Summary:

“Oh, great, a competition.” Eve scoffs, amused. “I already have endured that between you and the other guy we leave at the base. Now I have to watch you do it with William.”

 

“And you know he's not going to say no.”

 

“No. No, he isn't.”

Notes:

I DID IT!! But at what cost /j

Please read!!:

I'm ngl, I may have rushed through this chapter a little and haven't been able to beta read it before today, so I will come back and reedit stuff when I get the chance! So I apologize if there's a few repeated words or grammar mistakes 😅 So sorry about that, preparing for exams has kicked me in the ribs as well as the invincible hype died down just a little... Which is why I'm going to rewatch the show soon lmao. I need more of my silly guys

Anywho, enjoy the chapter! Uploads will be random now lol

“I want to be Seance Dog!”

 

“You're always Seance Dog!”

 

Mark frowns as he tucks the action figure into his arms, glaring at the slightly older boy sitting in front of him. “I'm good at his character!”

 

William scoffs and crosses his arms. “We watch the same show! I want to be Seance Dog for once.”

 

The two nine year olds have been arguing over this for the past ten minutes. Usually, they're pretty good at picking which character will be played by who. The problem is Mark always picks Seance Dog whenever he gets the chance, and never lets William play the super dog hero. Today, he got fed up with it, and now they won't stop arguing on who gets who.

 

“Cosmic Cockatoo is a good pick, too!” William argues. “You can be him.”

 

“I don't want Cosmic Cockatoo. You're better at him than me, anyway!”

 

“Why's that?!”

 

“I don't know, you just are!”

 

William huffs and stands up, turning his back on his best friend. “Whatever! I didn't want to play anyway!”

 

That definitely gathered Mark's attention. “Aw, come on! You don't mean that.”

 

“I do! In fact, I'm going to binge watch the entire three episodes again without you!”

 

“Fine!”

 

“Fine!”

 

…

 

After ten minutes, Mark was already bored, but he didn't want to give up Seance Dog. He was his favorite character, and he loved playing him, but William did seem pretty upset that the other boy wouldn't give him up, no matter how much he protested. He sits for another minute and thinks, crossing his arms and leaning in his seat. He looks at the toy, then over in the direction of the living room. With a heavy sigh, Mark grabs his toy and props himself to his feet, making his way into the spacey area and seeing the paler boy trying to work the remote. Has he been struggling the whole time?

 

“Are you struggling with the remote?” Mark questions, now standing at the edge of the couch. William jumps at his voice, but quickly regains his composure and looks away with a dramatic hm!

 

“No.”

 

“You are.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“You're not watching the episodes.”

 

“… I'm still not struggling.”

 

Mark takes a seat beside him and holds out his hand. Blue eyes look at the hand, then dart back at the tv, then back at the empty hand, before he groans and smacks it into his friend's palm.

 

“… Sorry for getting mad.” Mark mutters, clicking into the recordings of the TV. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

 

“Well, you did.” William frowns, but his expression is quick to change. “I just don't understand why you always have to have Seance Dog.”

 

Mark's stomach drops into guilt and he lowers his head. “I guess I just… really like him. It's also my collectible, so I don't want you breaking him.”

 

“I'm not going to break him!” William defends. “You're so weird about toys. At least you can get a new one.”

 

“Well… true, but it's still cool.”

 

Mark looks at his other hand, blinking at the colorful toy. Silently, he holds it out to the brunette, who stares at it for a moment before taking it.

 

“I'm still watching the show.” He utters, inspecting the toy. “But thanks, I guess.”

 

“Are you still mad?”

 

“ … No.”

 

Mark smiles. “How about… we play and watch TV?”

 

William lifts his gaze. “Won't we just get distracted?”

 

“Isn't that the best part?”

 

There it was; William smiles and stands. “Then I'll go get them! But as punishment, you're playing Cosmic Cockatoo for this!”

 

He can't argue with that. “Fine, but I still call dips on Ranger Rhino.”

 

“Deal!”

 

They both snicker. At least they're aware they can't stay mad at the other for too long. After all, Mark always knew how to cheer William up.

 

____

 

“No, you imbecile! Take the gun and–!”

 

The muscular blue criminal didn't have time to yell at the other who shared the same face as him before a crushing force hit his body at high speeds, knocking him into the rough pavement with a loud bang. A black and green hero rises over him, fists clenched as the reflective piece on his head stares down at the twin.

 

The Mauler brother moves the mailbox off of him, glaring up at the hero above. “For a hero, you sure like to toy with your prey.”

 

“I'm not trying with you.” He says, floating down and grabbing the collar of the blue man's shirt. “And don't describe it that way. You burned down a building and caused several people to get hurt. You shouldn't be surprised.”

 

The hero doesn't even turn his head when a whooshing sound approaches from behind. Instead, his free arm jumps up and his elbow hits hard against a metal material that shattered against the impact. Slowly, he turns his head and sees the second Mauler brother on the other side of the street, staring silently at the two. The main Mauler twin yells something out, probably an insult or whatever, but the GDA agent ignores it and chucks his brother right over to him, watching as their bodies collide and slam right into the brick wall behind the one that stood.

 

“Gah, damn it.” The injured criminal attempts to stand, but his brother, who had fallen unconscious on impact, prevented his body from moving as the hero approached them from the sky. “You disappear for months, and now you're here to fight like nothing happened?”

 

“Oh, you noticed?” He crosses his arms, unamused by the villain's words. “Didn't think you'd guys be a fan of me out of all criminals.”

 

“We're scientists.” He snarks, trying to push his brother off. “At least I am. This clone can barely stand on his own if it weren't for me.”

 

“I thought you were the clone?” The agent points at him. “He said that earlier.”

 

“Because he is a mere idiot who thinks he's smarter.” He hisses. “Anyway, what are you going to do? Throw us in jail? We'll just escape again.”

 

He didn't know the whole story, but from what Donald had told him, the Mauler brothers broke out under mysterious circumstances a few months ago. They managed to slip under wraps for a while, but the smaller hero got lucky today and caught them in the act; trying to steal from one of the expensive scientific discovery buildings he's heard about once or twice. A lot of criminals don't stick to robbing banks anymore, it's always stealing thousands of dollars worth of materials that the GDA can't always bother to replace.

 

“After this, you're going somewhere made of extra steel.” He shrugs, hovering down closer. “All you do is embarrass yourselves.”

 

The Mauler twin responds with a holler, then throwing his arms up and chucking the other right at the agent. The flying hero dodges swiftly and just in time slams the bigger being into the wall with enough force to knock him into dizziness. It was a little entertaining, but he rather not give the villain a concussion on a day like this.

 

“My bad.”

 

The Mauler falls to the ground. “Agent Invincible just knocked me into a wall, and your first response is to say my bad?”

 

Invincible shrugs again. “You're a villain, but you're pretty mediocre compared to some of the other guys I've fought.”

 

“Mediocre?!”

 

While the stammering Mauler tries to gather himself, Invincible hears a small sound from above and quickly looks behind him. His shoulders drop in relief when he sees a familiar pink attire heading his way.

 

“Hey, I gotta get going.” He says, already floating away. “But my buddies are coming soon. Be nice to them for me.”

 

As the words leave his mouth, multiple flashes appear around the Maulers at once and surround the cloning duo, pointing their high-tech guns at the criminals. The hero flies up and meets the other hero halfway, who is giving him a look.

 

“Upset I didn't leave anything for you?” He jokes, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

 

“Maybe, maybe not.” She gives a one-shoulder shrug. “I actually came to get you because you're late.”

 

“ … Late? What do you–”

 

Oh. Oh no.

 

“I forgot it's at three!” He hisses and zooms past her. The redhead turns and flies after him, already catching up to his speed. “I got caught up with the Mauler Twins!”

 

“I see that.” the pink hero replies. “That's why I came to fetch you. You're not usually the late type, Mark.”

 

“Ugh.” Mark groans. “I've only been back a week, Eve. Cut me some slack.”

 

“I can forgive you,” Eve looks over at him, “but that's just because I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.”

 

“Relax. I know at least William is forgiving.”

 

“Rick can be sometimes. Amber's the one you have to work for.”

 

“Eh, at least you'll be there.”

 

“I'm not your token out of this.”

 

The duo arrive at the cafe in minutes. Eve was quick to change them out of their suits and put them in more comfortable attire. Mark stuffs his suit in a backpack Eve had forged into existence, throwing the straps over his shoulders and giving Eve a small smile to go along with it. She smiles back, adjusting her grey jacket before she turns and walks towards the waiting table at the corner of the place.

 

“Hope we didn't arrive too late.” She chirps, earning all toothy smiles from everyone at the mini table. “Sorry it took me so long; Mark was finishing up some stuff and accidentally lost track of time.”

 

“Hey, I made it eventually, didn't I–”

 

His words were cut short when an unexpected weight shifted right into his body, making him stumble back in his steps but grin just as quickly as he returned the hug.

 

“I'm just happy you didn't ghost anyone.” William says besides his head. “Government work really handing your ass or something, Grayson?”

 

“You know me.” Mark chuckles.

 

Getting back into contact with William wasn't something Mark had expected to ever happen again. Once he was told he couldn't see him anymore, he didn't bother to fight Cecil on it. Now, here he was, actually meeting him in public and talking to him like they never separated in the first place. William was his first friend, but he was also a stranger to him because of their years apart. Mark didn't know what William did besides go to college, but was unaware of what he was majoring in or what his goal was. It felt odd to Mark, yet still couldn't help but feel glad they got a second chance to reconnect.

 

The two of them sat down on one side; Mark sat at the very front of the booth, while William sat next to him with Rick by his side. On the other side from them were the girls; Eve was across from Mark while Amber was across from William and Rick. A little crowded place, as the cafe wasn't exactly the biggest area in the block, but Eve said it was cheaper for them. Plus, Amber really liked their smoothies, so it was a quick and fun trip to make on the side anyway.

 

“So, decided to show face?” Amber teases, taking a sip of her smoothie. “Joking, but I'm glad you're alright. You left in a hurry that night and then we didn't hear anything after that.”

 

“Yeah, sorry.” Mark scratches the side of his head. “An emergency– which I can't talk about– came up and I had to go and deal with it. It wasn't super crazy, trust me, I just got caught up with some stuff after that.”

 

“Busy man.” William elbows him. “I wonder how you and Eve keep it together if you're so out-and-about.”

 

“He can't stay away from me.” The redhead smirks, picking up the small menu left for her and Mark. “Does this place have anything new?”

 

“Some new vegan options, or something.” William shrugs, then slings an arm around Mark's shoulders. “So, Mark, care to actually catch up this time over some fries and burgers?”

 

The half-human looked up from the menu he managed to snatch to meet eyes with the paler man beside him. He chuckles, albeit nervously, and sets the piece down as his hands interlock together.

 

“Yeah, I'd like that.” Mark nods, quickly taking a glance at Rick. “Oh, uh, it's nice to see you again, Rick. And Amber. Oh, Amber, how's your leg?”

 

“It got better, I can walk on it now.” She smiles, tossing a fry in her mouth.

 

Mark nods, silent for a moment. “Good! Good, that's good. Great even! …Oh, wow, I'm actually very bad at this.”

 

William snickers, shaking Mark a little for his amusement. “Someone’s social skills need some work, but I like it. Don't worry, I'll break you out of the curse.”

 

“Be nice, William.” Amber flicks the crumbled wrapper that was once on the paper straw at the sandy brunette. “I'm sure Mark has already prepared an entire written apology essay just for you.”

 

“Oh, I left that at home.” Mark jokingly shrugs. “Guess you'll just have to believe my dog ate it and forgive me anyway.”

 

William gasps and hits Mark's shoulder. “As if! I'm worth more than a forgotten apology left on the bedroom floor, thank you very much.”

 

The black-haired man smirks, amused by the other's sense of humor. It was comforting, in a way, to know that William hasn't changed at all since their departure. He was still full of jokes and sarcasm that Mark could never match.

 

“Anyway,” William pats his chest, “graduation is just around the corner. Any plans and ideas from little Miss Eve?”

 

“Ugh, don't call me Miss.” Eve playfully rolls her eyes. “Still the same ol’ stuff. Keeping people safe, going to college, you know–”

 

“Wait, you are going to college?” Mark's head snaps back to the hero. “I thought you were skipping out on it.”

 

“Turns out I don't know as much as I thought when it comes to building a home.” She jokes, placing the menu down in front of her. “So I'm signing up as a part-time student at Upstate University.”

 

“Wow.” Mark blinks. Wow, indeed. Everyone but him was going to college. He doesn't need it– if he wants a college degree, he can just get one at the GDA. But it did remind him it was another thing that was alienating him from the rest of the group sitting at the colorful booth. “That's amazing, Eve. I'm happy for you. Uh, actually, while we're here, what are you guys going to college for?”

 

“We're all basically pre-med students.” Amber answers, placing her drink down. “William and I went on a tour around the campus to get a better look at the program. That's where we met Rick.”

 

“So, all doctors?” Mark snickers. “Bones and stuff? Or, no wait, hearts and organs? What kind of–”

 

“Just think of it as the same interest but different goals.” Rick smiles, shrugging a little. “We all have our reasons but we each have a certain goal to reach when it comes to careers.”

 

Okay, something he can talk about. “Oh yeah, definitely. That can take years, but it's worth it when you actually do it.”

 

“Exactly!” William beams. “I bet that's how you felt when you got a fancy government job.”

 

“You really like to bring that up.”

 

“Hey, not everyone can say they're best friends with a government agent.”

 

Mark shrugs, chuckling. This was nice; a normal conversation where Mark can actually keep up with everything they're saying. He did fear he and William, as well as Rick and Amber, wouldn't have anything to talk about because of how different their lives are. Especially since they don't know that Mark is Agent Invincible, which drastically reminded him he met Amber ages ago and she doesn't even know. They knew about Eve, but Mark was different. Cecil wouldn't exactly approve of more people knowing his secret identity.

 

But it did feel like it would bring him and William closer– wait, no, what is he thinking? That would only put him in potential danger.

 

Eve clicks her teeth. “Three future doctors, an architect, and an agent walk into a bar. Sounds like a comedy you would find in the middle of the night.”

 

“I'd watch it.” Amber beams. “Oh, what do you think our roles would be in the show?”

 

“Well, I'm obviously the gay comedic relief that everyone adores.” William playfully flips his hair. “Rick is the giant buff handsome dude with a heart of gold. Amber is the chill but funny friend that is absolutely adored by fans. Eve… you would be the double-life superhero.”

 

“Wow, thanks.”

 

“And Mark is the celebrity that makes a comeback every five seasons.”

 

“Why is that my role?”

 

“Because that's exactly what you do.”

 

He doesn't know if he should be offended or not, because it was kind of true.

 

“Are you going to get something, Mark?” Eve questions, standing up. “After eating, we're going to the mall. I recommend this place more than the mall.”

 

He quickly nods and stands, waving back the trio as he follows Eve. The redhead looks back at him with a raised brow and a sly smirk.

 

“Look at you. Not bad.” She teases, stopping in her steps behind another customer. “You still looked like a scared puppy.”

 

The taller man instantly frowns. “I was nervous. What would you say to a friend you haven't seen in nearly a decade?”

 

Eve makes a face, but it doesn't fall unkind. “Well, you got me there. But please know you don't need to freak out. I can tell you were sweating before we even walked in the door.”

 

“We were flying pretty fast.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Unfortunately, he does. Mark sighs and crosses his arms as they walk up to the front counter. Eve orders her food first; Mark takes an extra second to look at the bigger menu above and see what he actually wants. He wasn't practically hungry, but he could always snatch a snack for later or something to fill his stomach. A specific order catches his eyes and the muscular man grins. Bingo.

 

Mark orders quickly and easily, then stands next to Eve as they wait for their orders.

 

“What'd you get?” Mark questions the shorter woman.

 

“Just a small burger and fries.” She answers, looking at her phone. “You?”

 

“Just fries, and two shakes.”

 

Eve looks up from her device, giving him a questioning look. “Two shakes?”

 

He nods. “It's, uh, something William and I used to get when we came here with our moms. We would get separate shakes and then drink as fast as we could until one of us finished first.”

 

“Oh, great, a competition.” Eve scoffs, amused. “I already have endured that between you and the other guy we leave at the base. Now I have to watch you do it with William.”

 

“And you know he's not going to say no.”

 

“No. No, he isn't.”

 

It was childish, but Mark needed to know if he could finally beat William in their dumb, fun challenge.

 

____

 

“Nice teeth, by the way.”

 

Mark nearly chokes on the water he was drinking. William stared innocently, taking a slow sip of the remains of his milkshake as his friend caught his breathing.

 

“You, um, noticed?” Mark tries to smile, cursing internally at his memory; somehow, he forgot his teeth weren't exactly on the normal side anymore. “Yeah, it's a thing on my… mom's side.”

 

“You come from a line of werewolves?” The paler man asks, a small tug of a smile decorating his lips. “I noticed them earlier, but I thought it'd be too rude to point them out while we were in the middle of eating.”

 

Mark shrugs. “I get it. And your pun sucked.”

 

“You suck.”

 

The duo trailed behind the group in front of them. Eve was chatting up with Rick and Amber, while Mark and William hung in the back as the group made their way to the mall. Mark ended up winning their dumb little contest, actually sucking down the milkshake in seconds while William could barely get any down by the time he was done. Everyone was pretty impressed, including Mark, but it was also pretty satisfying. William swore to buy one thing for Mark at the mall, and he couldn't deny that as the winner. They ended up leaving early but they stayed behind to catch up in private.

 

“Alright,” Mark grins down at the brunette, “enough of my late puberty–”

 

“Is that actually what it is?”

 

“What have you been up to? You know, for the last… two months.”

 

William thinks for a second, looking away from his old friend and rubbing his chin. “Well, not much other than preparing to graduate and getting ready for college. I already got my dorm room and everything! Don't know who my roomie is though.”

 

Mark nods, tossing the water bottle in his hand. “That's pretty cool. And you're doing pre-med?”

 

“Yessir. I've already said goodbye to debt free life.”

 

He snickers. “Damn. Well, if it makes you feel better, you'll earn enough money to probably pay off your loans by the time you're forty.”

 

“I'll be graduating at forty.”

 

“What are you even going for?”

 

“Surgeon.”

 

“Jesus.”

 

“Yep.”

 

William takes one last sip before chucking the now empty drink into a public trashcan they were walking by. “Unfortunately, I don't have any more William updates. My life isn’t super interesting.”

 

The muscular man frowns at that. “That's not true. I mean, what else did you do during those eight years?”

 

“Questioning my sexuality.” He jokes, shrugging. “But as you can see, I already have that figured out.”

 

“Yeah, I do. Rick seems nice.”

 

William moves his eyes back on Mark. “Okay, but enough about that. I know we kind of briefly talked about your life while at Eve’s party, but I seriously want to know if you're okay.”

 

There was a brief pause between the two men before Mark spoke up. “Of course I'm okay. Work just has me on call twenty-four seven.”

 

William pouts. “I'm not talking about that, man.”

 

Oh. “… Well, uh, better than I used to be. It was unexpected.”

 

“I can imagine.” The brunette is now looking at the ground, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I'm not asking for details or anything, I won't make you do that. I'm just… I'm sorry, really. I wish I was able to say it sooner.”

 

“It's not your fault.” Mark slightly grims. “Honestly, it was on me for not staying in contact. The change– the move– wasn't exactly something two ten year olds could control or manage. You could barely use the remote.”

 

“Hey!” William’s head snaps up at Mark. “I could use it just fine!”

 

“You always forgot where the volume button was!” Mark challenges, now smirking. “You used to ask me to find the show your mom recorded so we could finally watch it.”

 

“Pfft, fuck you.”

 

He could tell something was off with William. It's been years, nearly an entire decade for them, yet somehow he could tell when his old friend was thinking of something. He nudges him slightly, causing the shorter man to give him a look, but not of distaste or anger.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You all right?”

 

“Why wouldn't I be?”

 

Mark frowns. William clicks his tongue against his teeth and awkwardly rubs his arm.

 

“I've been thinking about… stuff.” William says, very slowly. “As in, the past few months… maybe years.”

 

Mark tilts his head. “Years?”

 

“The time we spent apart.” William admits. “We went from seeing each other everyday at school to basically being apart for years on end with absolutely zero contact. It wasn't your fault or anything, but the more I think about it, the more odd it is.”

 

The taller man's heart drops. “Odd? I guess, yeah. It does feel weird seeing you after all this time.”

 

“Exactly!” The brunette’s eyes darted up at him. “I used to be taller than you, now it looks like you can lift mountains and carry boulders on your shoulders.”

 

He’s not wrong. “I work out.”

 

“Apparently you've been working out since you were eleven.”

 

Well…

 

“It's funny how time moves, huh?” William shrugs. “Hilarious, even. Now can we grow old together and complain about kids that walk on our lawn.”

 

The black-haired man swallows harshly. “Sounds like a plan. Well,” Mark looks ahead of them, seeing the trio still lost in their own world, “you have those plans with them too, right? Especially Rick? You seem head over heels over him.”

 

“You have no idea.” He smirks. “Kind of reminds me of you and Rex, in my humble opinion.”

 

Mark makes a very discombobulated sound as he tries to catch his breath, nearly choking on his own spot as he processes the words said to him.

 

“W-What?!” Mark coughs, quickly reminding himself to keep his voice down. “Me and Rex?! No, no, no, he's just my best friend, I swear it's nothing like that!”

 

William was not convinced. Damn it. “Is it casual?”

 

“Yes! Why wouldn't it be?!”

 

“I don't know, man. He was totally jealous that I was buddy buddy with you.”

 

“He has abandonment issues!”

 

“Way to throw him under the bus.”

 

“That's not what I–”

 

The rest of the sentence is cut off by a groan. Great. William can already read him like a book; he's convinced that's his superpower and he's just hiding it from everyone else to seem less suspicious. His jaw moved open and close to try and form a thoughtful response, but all that comes in is crickets.

 

“I… well…” Mark lowers his head, keeping his voice quiet, “we're best friends, but I don't think he sees me like that.”

 

William arches a brow. “Have you asked him?”

 

“Why would I ask him?” Mark mutters. “As far as I'm aware, he only likes girls… and maybe that one dude from Street Fighter.”

 

“Ah ha!” William presses against the taller man, smirking. “Already a clue.”

 

“That's a video game character.” The half-human lightly hits his arm. “That's nothing. I just… I don't know. It's a nice thought, but a reality?”

 

“Have you tried making it a reality?” William crosses his arms, still pressing against his old friend.

 

“I only just told him recently I'm gay.” Mark shrugs. “Before that, he didn't seem to have a clue.”

 

The brunette holds up one finger. “Secret mutual pining.”

 

“William.” Mark groans again, dragging out the other's name. “I don't know for sure and I can't just ask him. He was also convinced I needed a girlfriend for like, the longest time.”

 

“I mean, old friends said the same about me. They turned out pretty wrong themselves.”

 

How did they get to this conversation? Mark was having a heart-to-heart with a friend he hasn't seen in ages, and now the same friend was digging into Mark's shoulder-deep crush while also thinking said crush might feel the same. William was always the type to jump into possibilities and scenarios; Mark wouldn't be surprised if he had a secret board at his house with multiple pictures and red string attached to one another. Honestly, a part of him even wanted to ask.

 

“Okay, look–”

 

Just as Mark was about to make another point, the sound of quiet beeping quickly got his attention. His eyes widened and, in a split second decision, grabbed William and moved fast. An erupted explosion rocketed behind him, sending him and the shorter man in his arms flying into the rough rocky road and tumbling directly into the street. Several cars screech and honk at the sudden commotion, a series of loud and worried voices suddenly taking over the once quiet walkway. Mark instantly pushes himself up, staring directly ahead at the smoke clouding his vision.

 

“Holy shit!” William shrieks from beneath Mark, trying to catch his breathing. “What is that?!”

 

This isn't good. The sound of heavy clanks and marches brought their way into the street as a shadowy figure emerged from the depths of the chaos. Mark didn't know this villain– maybe a new guy around– but it didn't change the fact that people were in danger and William was possibly almost blown to smithereens. A large metal body rises from the ashes and growls, a metal head in the shape of a lion locking onto the duo left in the street. Its heavy metallic paw slams hard against the ground and immediately charges, one hand reaching out to grab them.

 

Just as Mark was about to stand and give away his hero identity in front of multiple people (William included), a pink shield blocked the creature's fist from making contact with both men. A second later, a pink mace clocks into the side of the beast and sends it flying into the pavement, a good distance away from them. The half-human hero only sees a flash of ginger hair and bright pink clothes zooming past him before the mace comes down again, knocking the creature further into the ground. The black-haired man takes the opportunity to grab William and scramble to his feet.

 

“Is that a robotic lion?!” William questions as he's dragged off. Mark internally curses and keeps pushing William.

 

“Eve can handle it, come on!” Mark practically demands, tightening his grip on the other man.

 

“Wait, where's Rick and Amber?!”

 

That's right. They weren't too far from the two friends when the explosion occurred. Mark was too busy focusing on getting William out of danger to think of them. He feels guilty at the thought of it, but the sounds of heavy metal crushing the ground and Eve’s manifesting every weapon into existence to take care of whatever this was brought him back into the harsh reality of the situation. He looks around for a second or two before he spots moving rumble ahead, distant voices echoing from beneath. Mark doesn't have time to register it all before William slips from his grasp and rushes over to the pile of debris.

 

“William!” Mark calls out, nearly speeding after him in the chaos of the battle if it weren't for the truck being thrown right in front of his feet. The half-human steps back, whipping his head to the side of everything and seeing Eve hovering over the mysterious creature, holding it down with a see-through whip, an exhausted expression painting her face, sweat dripping down the side of her pale face. She catches a glimpse of Mark and motions her head to follow after the brunette and find the others.

 

Make freezes. Eve can always handle her own, but did she need Mark's help? But Rick and Amber may be stuck somewhere and need Mark's help more than Eve. But they don't know the circling secret that the other man held. What if–

 

Screw it. Mark was out of sight instantly and ran in the direction he watched his old friend disappear to. He sees his bright red shirt ahead, crouching over rumble, calling out the names of the people that meant dear to him.

 

“William, stand back.” Mark commands, positioning himself in the same stance as William, grabbing the edge of the ruined wall. “I'll get them–”

 

Suddenly, the broken wall shifts and shuffles and suddenly lifts in the air, pushing the two men back. Instinctively, Mark’s arm flies over William in a protective stance, shielding his eyes from the sun above. Standing over him was the blonde man himself, eyes wide but focused, looking over himself as Amber makes her way out, breathing heavily.

 

“That's the second time this year I got stuck under a building.” Amber coughs, pushing herself up. “What the hell is going on?”

 

“Voltron’s distant cousin seems to be in a bad mood.” William jokes but still remains a serious facade, doing the same as his friend, then looks down at Mark. “You alright?”

 

Mark nods, immediately gathering himself on his feet. “Yeah, yeah. Uh, Rick, are you…?”

 

Rick throws the giant piece somewhere in the street and huffs, coughing into his fist. “Not really, it's a long story–”

 

Another car flies over them. Mark hears the hero yell out, followed by another smash into the street. He huffs, brushing his hand through his hair before he takes a couple steps back.

 

“I'm gonna go check on Eve.” He says, already turning around.

 

“Wha– dude!” William grabs his friend's arm before he can run off. “Eve is currently fighting a gigantic metallic whatever that is! You're just going to get hurt!”

 

“But–”

 

Mark freezes. He thinks back to the first time he saw Amber, how she was nearly left to die if he didn't find her during the Flaxan attack. This could be the same for them– if there's more, or the battle begins to grow increasingly worse, then leaving them could be a mistake. Rick having super strength helped ease his worry, but Mark has zero idea if he has any fighting experience, or how strong this thing actually is.

 

With a sigh, Mark turns back and begins moving fast towards the other direction.

 

“You're right; let's go. It may be dangerous if we stay here for too long.”

Notes:

Not much to say other than I love William and Mark's friendship, sorry I had to cut them in half for years to come 💔

On a brighter note, one of my favorite chapters is coming soon, I'm excited to write it :D it might be long as hell though... Save me readers /silly

Notes:

Tumblr: @spicefright - https://www.tumblr.com/spicefright?source=share