Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This isn’t your world. It’s theirs.”

Nolan claimed, spreading his hand to gesture towards the endless greenery beneath them. Debbie crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself in comfort as she saw Mark’s miserable tears slipping out of his mask and rolling down his cheeks through the massive screen.

“But we can help them. We can stop wars. Eliminate hunger. Give them medical technology centuries ahead of what they have now. We’ve already been doing it. If it wasn’t for you and me, this planet would be in flames. All we have to do is welcome Earth into our Empire.”

“I do love your mother,” She tensed, bracing herself for what would follow. Nolan drifted closer, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Can’t you see? I’m doing this for her. For you. For us. We can shape this world together. This is for their protection. Think about it, Mark. We can prevent any sort of danger or crisis before it even emerges.”

Mark sniffed but hesitated, glancing up at his dad. “And what about those that might refuse our help? What happens if they resist?”

“They’ll come around. They all do in the end.”

“Not all of them. Not always.” Mark said and backed away, letting Nolan’s hand fall away from his shoulder.

Nolan continued with conviction, “Then it’s our duty to contain these threats. The lives of billions are at stake. We have to be prepared for anything.”

A deafening silence had blanketed the control room. To her left, Cecil stood tall and rigid, a frigid iciness seeping into his eyes. Debbie could only stand there, emotions tangled in a lump inside her throat as she watched the fight slowly drain from her son’s body. She did not need to see his face in order to deduce his decision. The sagging of his shoulders and his loosening fists told her everything she needed to know.

Albeit reluctant, Nolan’s words were already taking shape, reforming and embedding in Mark’s mind.

“Get your asses out there. Your mission is to stop Omni-Man and Invincible at any cost necessary.” Cecil ordered whilst touching the earpiece in his left ear.

“Mark has done nothing wrong!” She protested, rounding up to Cecil with indignation burning hot in her voice. “You’re gonna have him killed because of this? How dare you lump him in with Nolan-”

“You see this?” Cecil jabbed his thumb at the massive screen as it was split in half, broadcasting live the Guardians rapidly approaching Nolan and Mark’s location. “This is humanity’s last hope. Do I wanna kill the kid? Of course not. I doubt his friends will even want to hurt him. I’m holding out some fucking hope that they’ll be able to snap Mark out of it, but if they don’t and all this goes south...“

Tears stung the back of her eyes, gritting her teeth to hold them at bay. Debbie turned her attention back to the screen, ignoring Cecil’s presence at her side. “If anything happens to Mark, I’m never going to forgive you.”

“You and me both.”

Beneath her motherly instincts and crushing concern, she knew that if Mark were to find logic in his father’s bullshit, there would be no turning back. Though she was never given any reason to fear Nolan, she knew the danger he posed. On his own, he was the strongest being on Earth, but he was alone. There could be a chance of defeating him. If Mark were to side with Nolan in his lunatic mission of conquering Earth to allow the Viltrum invasion... there would be no stopping them.

Her worst fears were realized as the battle that followed was a massacre. Ugly and savage. The rest of the Guardians fought with everything they had to keep Omni-Man occupied whilst Eve tried to talk some sense into Mark. For a brief, precious moment, Mark’s resolve seemed to crumble, the first cracks appearing on the surface. When his father’s pained grunt reached his ears, eyes snapping towards his bloody figure, their last speck of hope vanished.

Her entire frame trembled, choking back sobs with a hand over her mouth as Debbie forced herself to watch her husband and son take out the Guardians one by one. Nolan got to Immortal first, ripping him in half. Dupli-Kate, Monster Girl, Shrinking Rae, Robot, and Black Samson lay among the debris, broken and critically wounded. They didn’t know if they would make it. Rex and Eve were the only ones who managed to somehow retreat on Cecil’s order before it was too late for them as well.

Her vision began to crumble, a shrieking static penetrating her ears. It took several seconds before she felt the hands on her shoulders, Cecil’s face appearing in front of her.

“We’re evacuating the GDA. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“What?” She asked, her voice distant and remote, as though coming from a stranger inhabiting her body. “And go where? This- this is the most secure place on Earth.”

“Debbie, I know this is a lot to take in right now, but we must leave. Where do you think Nolan will head next? Their ETA is only two minutes from their location.” Cecil wrapped an arm around her back and urged her out of the control room and down the hall.

“Come on now, Cecil, you’re being irrational. They wouldn’t- Mark wouldn’t-”

“Hurt you?” He interjected, throwing her a quick, pitying glance. “After everything you saw, you seriously believe that?”

The words died on her tongue, choosing to keep her silence as she allowed Cecil to drag her away. Despite everything, despite the horrors she had just witnessed, the atrocities committed by the two people that meant the world to her, her own family, a part of her refused to reconcile with it. Her sweet, gentle husband, who always made certain to handle her with care, even if their realities were worlds apart. Her dear boy, her little Mark, who always looked up to her with radiant eyes that put the stars to shame.

Another part of her could barely recognize them anymore. Now, the only memory of them was the blood of their friends that dripped from their hands.

They relocated to an underground facility. She was never trusted with the precise location. She only knew they were still somewhere in the USA- or, at least, that’s what she assumed. Eve, Rex, and Rudy joined them only minutes later, immediately rushing them to the ER. The rest of the Guardians were soon apprehended after the fight, leaving nothing in sight but the remains of what had transpired.

Debbie was given a tiny, one-bedroom apartment. The four grey walls felt as if they were inching closer with each passing day. The only form of provided ‘natural’ light was the screen embedded on the wall across the bed, creating an artificial image of the mountains merging with the blue, cloudless sky. Even though with many hundreds of miles beneath the surface, her room, alongside every corner of the facility, was heavily guarded and monitored.

The days passed, turning into weeks, blending into each other. Time became indistinguishable. Most days, Debbie felt like a zombie, aimlessly looking at the empty, grey walls. When she was brave enough, she would walk out of her room and get a taste of reality. On other days, she felt like a failure, having betrayed and abandoned her family, for she did not put her trust in them, and instead allowed Cecil to hide her away while others suffered.

Eve (now part of an activist group of the Resistance) visited often, at least as much as she could. Debbie valued their time together and offered a change in the bleakness that was her life now. However, with Eve’s presence came in tow the latest reports of Earth’s survival. She had been the one to convince Eve to fill her in and keep her updated (since Cecil had deflected every single attempt at coaxing the information out of him), but that did not mean that it was a pleasant process. Not when every time she visited, Eve only looked more exhausted and defeated than the last time. Not when she only had stories to tell about the horrors Nolan and Mark committed in the name of safety.

“Have you talked to him at all since...“ Debbie trailed off until the implied words fell completely silent.

“No,” Eve replied quietly, leveling her with an apologetic look. “We usually try to keep off the radar. I’m sorry, Debbie, but if we were to approach him again, I don’t think I’d even be here talking to you right now.”

Something shattered in her chest, shards breaking into a million pieces, cutting and stabbing at her from the inside. She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands. How did they end up like this? Where did they go wrong? Where did she go wrong? A few months ago, Debbie could not even fathom that her son or husband would be capable of such actions. If someone were to tell her that this would be her life months ago, she’d grow offended at the accusation and call them delusional.

Now... now she wasn’t so sure what to believe anymore.

The bed dipped beside her at the added weight. A moment later, arms wrapped around her, pulling her close in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry it had to be like this.”

Debbie pulled back and cradled Eve’s hand. “Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? This is all my fault. All this started with me twenty years ago. I’m the one who married Nolan and- and Mark, he’s my life and joy. I thought I did the best I could in raising him right, but-”

“Debbie, no- Debbie .” Eve sighed, lowering her eyes to look at their joined hands. “You did everything you could. No one could have predicted this. No one. If you let yourself think like that, the guilt will consume you.”

She slowly nodded, but the truth would continue to fester inside her like a rotting wound. If she hadn’t married Nolan all those years ago, none of this would have happened. But then again, if Debbie wasn’t there to pose as a distraction, Viltrum might have invaded Earth years prior. There was no way of knowing for certain, but the lives lost at the hands of her husband and son were the cruel reality.

“How’s your mom holding up?” She asked, avoiding speaking any further about the subject altogether, at least for today.

“She’s... fine. She worries, but who can blame her? After dad died- well. I’m all she has now.”

Their conversation was soon hushed, instead taking the time to appreciate each other’s comforting presence in the silence. Debbie chewed on the softness of the inside of her cheek, her eyes unconsciously darting towards the door. It was minutes later that she worked up the courage to voice out her thoughts.

“Do you think it’d be possible to help me get up to the surface?”

Eve stared at her in stunned silence for a second before pursing her lips. “Debbie, I don’t have the clearance for that, and I doubt Cecil would allow it. It’s too dangerous for you to be out there.”

Debbie pushed away from the bed and began to pace back and forth. “I know, I know, it’s just- I haven’t breathed fresh air in months. I’ve nearly forgotten what the sky looks like. Honestly, if I stay cooped up in here for much longer, I feel like I’ll go insane.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Eve said with a sympathetic look, though it didn’t seem like her request would be granted any time soon.

Two days later, when she was about to exit her room to join the common areas to get a breather, the door creaked open to reveal Cecil’s impassive face.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” She said with poorly-concealed irritation.

“I didn’t think I’d need to give you, of all people, a crash course on why it’s dangerous to even attempt to go out there. The answer’s no, Debbie.”

Debbie scoffed and deliberately shoved against him as she passed him, striding down the hall. “Oh yes, you’ve mentioned about a million times that keeping me locked up is for my own safety since you care so much.”

“Debbie-”

When a hand grabbed hold of her wrist, she twisted her hand away, turning around to point a finger at Cecil. “ Don’t .”

Cecil held up his hands in a placating manner and took half a step back. “I do care. Is that so hard to believe?”

She scowled and maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before turning away. “I thought I knew my husband. I thought I knew the boy I raised. Now, from what I hear, they’re nothing but psychotic murderers. So no, Cecil, I don’t even know what to believe anymore.”

For a moment, Cecil said nothing. Then, he pulled out his phone from his breast pocket and pressed two buttons before handing it over to her. She quirked an unimpressed eyebrow at him, arms crossed against her chest.

“Just take the damn thing.” He said.

A tiny, immature voice in her head told her to refuse, but acting like an angsty teen would solve none of their issues. Thus, she accepted the phone and glanced down. Her brows furrowed at what she saw, the lines on her forehead deepening the more she scrolled. A list of names, several of which she knew; former heroes of the Guardians and members of the GDA, now all part of the Resistance. Many, if not most of the other names, were unknown to her. An endless list, the first hints of suspicion creeping in when she saw Cecil’s full name in passing.

“What is this?” She muttered while holding out the phone.

“A hit list.” Cecil replied with a level of composure that revealed this wasn’t news to him. “Every major threat against the Empire. It’s a list we helped put together to roughly estimate who they’ll be coming after next, though at this point, everyone has access to it.”

And what’s that got to do with me? she thought, but refrained from voicing it. It was heartbreaking to see many of her loved ones reduced to nothing but a target, leaving her feeling helpless. Useless. All these months, she was locked away, safe, doing absolutely nothing for the cause while the rest of humanity withered and perished.

Debbie was yanked back into reality when Cecil held up the phone in front of her, the screen enlarged to focus on a single, highlighted name. She inhaled sharply, trepidation gnawing at her insides.

Debbie Grayson.

Her brain barely processed her own name glaring back at her. The more she thought about it, the more it confused her as to why she would be on the list in the first place. While she was the closest person to Nolan and Mark, she posed no threat against the Viltrum Empire. What could she even possibly do? She had long since proven how worthless she was in the grand scheme of things. Her life meant nothing.

“Is this a joke?”

“Since Invincible and Omni-Man’s civilian identities were revealed to the public two months ago, yours was also compromised. If the people think for even one second that those two might have a weakness that can be exploited, who do you think they’ll come after?”

“Oh,” she breathed, staring with an empty look at the space where the phone used to be.

“Now you understand why I can’t let you go out there. I’m sorry, Debbie.”

Cecil reached out, meaning to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Before he made contact, he stopped, hesitating. Ultimately, he dropped his arm back at his side and left her alone in the long corridor.

As of late, she had started taking more walks around the underground facility, for the four grey walls of her room felt much too suffocating. The place she preferred to visit the most was the dining area. It was the only section that would always be busy with life, especially packed during peak hours. It was only a week ago when they finally allowed her to help in preparing meals, time after time of trying to convince them to let her volunteer. It was a much-needed change of pace in her routine, finally able to give again.

The smiles of appreciation thrown her way certainly uplifted her morale.

However, when she was done with today’s shift, instead of taking the usual route back to her room, she found herself wandering through the corridors. Debbie had been living here for months now, and she never even considered exploring the grounds. She supposed she didn’t feel like she deserved it before.

She walked aimlessly, and soon, her feet led her to a secluded section, away from the main ones. Debbie was about to turn around and return the way she came when she heard faint thumping, followed by grunts and voices. Inching closer to the doors to her right, she quietly slid one open just enough to poke her head in. It was a flat, empty area. In the center of the room stood Rex and Eve, currently seeming to be fighting each other.

Sparring, her mind provided with clarity. She took notice of the bruises all over their bodies as if they had just walked out of a fight. Knowing them and the life they led, they probably had just returned from one, and yet they were still going at it nonstop. Debbie silently slipped out and made haste towards medical. She soon returned with two icepacks, towels, and bottles of water. She returned just in time to see Rex collapsing on his back, arms and legs spread out.

“Yup, I think I’m done for today.”

Eve propped her hands on her hips, coming to stand above him. “Come on, Rex, we’ve barely gotten through the basics.”

“Do you see this?” Rex wildly gestured at his bruised face. “This is high maintenance, baby. I can’t afford to damage one of my best traits!”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t seem to have it in her to get him back in the fight. It was evident that fatigue and pain were getting the better of them both.

“It’s good to take a break every once in a while. You need to let your bodies heal.” Debbie spoke up as she stepped closer. Their heads snapped in her direction, eyes wide in surprise.

“Debbie, hi,” Eve greeted with a growing smile. She walked over and hugged her side before glancing down at her full hands.

“You shouldn’t have.” She said, her eyes softening.

“It’s the least I could do for you.”

Debbie handed over a towel, ice pack, and bottled water before heading over to Rex. When he noticed her approaching him, he quickly pulled himself to his feet, slightly swaying from the sudden movement. Seeing the awkward, unsure smile on his face, she only now came to the realization that Debbie had hardly ever gotten to talk with the boy up until this point. She mostly had heard of him because he used to be good friends with Mark.

“That looks like it hurts,” she commented while gently pressing the icepack over the nasty bump at the corner of his right brow.

As soon as the coolness of the icepack made contact, Rex’s frame relaxed, leaning his weight towards her hand. “You have no idea.”

“Rough day, huh?”

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Eve stopped by her side, towel slung around her shoulders. Then, she tipped her head back and downed the rest of the water. “It must get really boring down here if you’re coming to us for entertainment.”

The words felt like poison, guilt stabbing at her heart. “Eve, you know that’s not true.”

“I- I know, I’m sorry,” Eve sighed heavily, bringing up a hand to rub at her temples. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“It's okay. Really.” She said with a reassuring smile.

And how could she blame her when the entire world was forced to survive against the monsters she helped create?

“Thanks, Ms. Grayson.” Rex grabbed the towel and opened up the bottle of water.

She waved her hand dismissively, “Just Debbie is fine.”

“Honestly, I don't even know why Mark would wanna turn to the dark side with such a great mom. If it were me, I'd be set for life!” An awkward, taut silence followed. Rex glanced between them and smacked his lips. “What? Too soon?”

Eve smacked her hand over her forehead, peeking at Debbie with an apologetic and ashamed look through her fingers.

“Alrighty then, great talk. I'm just, uh... I'm gonna go now. Bye Ms. Grayson!” Rex babbled and swiftly made his escape, leaving them alone in the room.

“He's a funny one,” Debbie said after a while.

“He's a fucking idiot.” She raised an eyebrow at Eve who shrugged a shoulder with a sheepish look. “But he does a great job lifting my spirits when I'm feeling down.”

And this... this, she decided, was not so bad. Debbie loved providing and caring for people, and it was obvious that, during times like these, selfless affection was much appreciated. Perhaps it would never be enough to truly fill the devouring void in her chest, but this could be something. Perhaps it was time she began building a life of her own again, a sort of normalcy that’d soothe her conscience.

Chapter Text

Debbie woke up to the sensation of a terrible earthquake, the walls around her groaning and shuddering. Her eyes snapped wide in alarm, fumbling with the blanket as she tried to untangle herself. When she shot up to her feet, she stumbled from the force of another wave, spreading her arms out to maintain balance. With a sinking feeling in her gut, when another thunderous explosion struck the facility, she realized this was no earthquake.

They were under attack.

She struggled to stifle the possibility of Nolan and Mark being the ones behind the attack, dreading the reunion after all these months, and focused on the task at hand. With a supporting hand sliding on the wall, Debbie made her way towards the door. She pushed, yet it refused to budge. She tried again and again, pushing with all of her strength and ramming her shoulder against it in vain.

She momentarily blacked out before she could feel the pain. Disoriented, her head reeling, Debbie sluggishly blinked her eyes open, dark spots dancing at the corner of her vision. Her ears rang, a shrieking pitch that stabbed at her. Her limbs twitched, her strength gradually returning to her body. With a sudden coughing fit, she realized that she had been flung to the floor. Carefully forcing herself to stand on two unsteady feet, the throbbing in her head only worsened. She lifted her hand, her fingers touching something wet. When she looked down, her palm was nearly covered with blood.

“Fuck,” she croaked out. Thankfully, the blast had torn off the door, as well as the entire wall. Unfortunately for her, she probably had a concussion. She stumbled out, navigating through the debris and remains. She needed to find someone- anyone that could help her evacuate the place. It was only a matter of time before the entire facility would come down collapsing on her head.

When she reached what she assumed used to be the common areas, she could find no soul except the ones that were lost, mutilated bodies scattered all around the wreckage. Limbs torn off, their heads smashed in, and intestines pooling out from severed spines. A vicious, grotesque carnage. The method was intentional, meant to send a message; to instill the fear of God in them.

“Cecil?” She called out, her voice cracking, faltering. “E-Eve? Rex? Anyone?”

Please let them be alive, she thought desperately, and pushed on, mindful of her feet, avoiding stepping on any of the... remains. She was about to make a right turn when a pained scream pierced her ears, her muscles locking in place. With her heart lurching to her throat, Debbie peeked around the corner.

Eve was on the floor, clutching at the bloody mess on her stomach, desperately fumbling to keep her guts inside her body, and only a few feet away, Rex was suspended in the air, his feet swaying and kicking as a hand gripped him by the throat-

Her own son’s concealed face, the upper half hidden behind the yellow mask. She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a choked gasp. He won’t kill them, she thought in an attempt to console herself. He wouldn’t dare. They’re his friends.

Yet as the seconds ticked by and Rex’s face began to take a bluish hue, frantically clawing at Mark’s forearm, for the first time in months, Debbie was forced to confront the bitter and hopeless truth.

“Why do you always act as if I’m some heartless monster? You think I want to do this? You think I enjoy hurting you? You guys are the only friends I have left and I- I’ve been trying to get you to see reason, but you won’t listen to me!”

“Fuck... you,” he wheezed and smacked a hand against Mark’s face. A second later, bright light erupted from the center of Rex’s palm, blasting him with all his remaining strength. Mark stumbled back a few steps, clutching at his face. Then, when he slowly looked up, half of his mask was burned off, but otherwise, he looked completely unharmed.

However, the predatory rage blazing in his eyes set off every single alarm in her head, blind panic flooding her lungs.

“You know what? I’m sick and tired of trying again and again when you clearly don’t give a shit. Just tell me where you’re holding her and I might consider letting you go.”

“Over my dead body, you fucking lunat-”

An uncontrollable spasm in Mark’s fingers, a muscle in his jaw clenching. She was stepping forward before she even knew what she was doing.

“Mark,” Debbie called out in a quiet, firm tone. Her voice carried through the area, and she saw the exact moment her son heard her voice. His body went rigid, a haunted expression flashing in his eyes. He turned, and when their eyes met, time seemed to freeze around them. After countless months, she finally allowed herself to really look at her boy, taking in the sight of him covered in the fresh blood of his friends and colleagues.

At that moment, she knew that her Mark was gone.

The consuming void inside her chest only grew in size, yet she refused to let herself crumble. Debbie held out her hand, her voice coated in motherly strictness, “Come here.”

Mark hovered in the air, drifting closer just an inch, still in disbelief of her presence. Then, within a heartbeat, another body was crashing against her, strong arms slithering around her frame, the embrace teetering on the edge of painful.

“Mom,” he whispered, his voice descending into an inconsolable whimper. “Mom. Mom, I- I missed you so much. I was so scared, we didn’t even know if you were-” he pulled back just enough to really look at her, frantic eyes searching her face before they zeroed in on the bleeding gash on her forehead.

“Who did this to you?” He demanded with murderous intent, deeply unsettling how his entire demeanor could shift from one second to the next.

“I was caught in the falling rubble.” She explained and cupped the back of his neck, guiding his head against her shoulder. “Eve and Rex have been nothing but kind to me.”

Debbie peered up, mouthing a muted ‘leave’ toward their direction. Judging from the stubborn determination on both of their faces, it didn’t seem like they were about to leave her anytime soon.

“You’re safe with us now, mom. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Came Mark’s muffled words, nuzzling his face affectionately against her shoulder. The vow in his words was nearly tangible. He genuinely meant every word that came out of his mouth as if the rest of the world was wrong and dangerous, and only the two of them could keep Debbie safe from the rot and deceit.

“ Safe ?” She echoed, incapable of biting down the touch of hysteria in her tone. Maybe Mark wouldn’t dare hurt her. It still fucked with her head when she saw the entire world look at Mark in paralyzing fear and disgust. Her sweet, selfless boy. The very boy who used to pretend to hurt only because he craved her attention. Maybe there was still some humanity left in Mark that would prevent him from crossing the point of no return. As for her husband, on the other hand... 

Nolan had never given her a reason to make her afraid. Now, though... she wasn’t so sure anymore. After everything, Debbie wasn’t sure if she ever meant anything to Nolan to begin with.

She sucked in a breath, about to give her son a piece of her mind when a loud crash behind Mark filled the area with dust and dirt. Almost too fast for her human eye to keep track, within a blink, Mark turned around to use his body as a shield, pushing out a protective arm.

“We’re done here.”

Her treacherous heart hammered in her chest at the sound of Nolan’s voice. The tiny, soaring hope in her was immediately strangled of its life when Nolan stepped into view, nearly covered in blood from head to toe, and with Cecil’s decapitated head in his right hand. She turned her head away in disgust, mouth twisted in a grimace. Head slightly tilted up, looking down at Eve and Rex in disdain, Nolan carelessly tossed Cecil’s head at their feet as if he were getting rid of a pest that stained his hands.

Then, she felt that commanding and devastating gaze drilling into the side of her head. From the corner of her eyes, she saw- she felt him drift closer as Mark stepped aside. Even if she kept her head stubbornly turned away, that damned white and red silhouette drew all her attention. When she heard a subtle, almost inaudible rustle, Debbie stood tall and ready, waiting for- something. Anything. Most likely for her inevitable and gruesome death at the hands of her husband.

Instead, all she felt was the tender brush of fingers upon her cheek. A moment later, her chin was loosely grasped, guiding her head to face the front. What she saw fueled her with white-hot rage, blood rushing to her face. She slapped the hand away, her fingernails wildly grazing Nolan’s face from its force.

“You don’t get to look at me like that. Not anymore. I’ve had about enough of your fucking lies.” She seethed, and fearlessly, foolishly, jabbed her finger at the center of Nolan’s chest. “Just kill me and be done with it.”

Mark blanched as if she were crazy for believing them capable of killing her. “Mom, how could you say-”

“No.” Nolan said, the authority in his voice leaving no room for argument. “You don't get to decide that.”

“Don't tell me you suddenly care. You never did.”

Perhaps provoking the only person who held all of their lives in the palm of his hand was not one of her wisest decisions, but she was just so tired of everything; tired of running and hiding, tired of facing the sins of her choices. Perhaps leaving the world to fend for itself was selfish, abandoning humanity to its demise. What could she possibly even accomplish? If the Resistance did not stand a chance, especially with Cecil... out of the picture now, nobody did.

Suddenly, her world tilted on its axis. A strong arm supported her back whilst the other was hooked under her knees, keeping her close.

“We’re leaving,” came Nolan’s voice from above her. Mark glanced back at Eve and Rex, lips pursed. A moment later, he appeared by their side and swiftly knocked them out before grabbing each of them and flying them out of the collapsing facility. When they broke out onto the surface, Debbie brought up a hand to shield her eyes from the intensity of the sunlight, needing time to adjust. Cold, fresh air flooded her nostrils, settling into her lungs. A lulling warmth hugged her skin, her taut muscles automatically loosening, her body unwinding with a heavy sigh. She rested her head against Nolan’s chest, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

Despite the devastation below, despite the annihilation of their civilization, for there was nothing but rubble and flames for hundreds of miles out, she could only be in awe at the colorful sky and clouds, hues of honey, rouge, and gold intertwining into a breathtaking sunset.

“Are you hurt anywhere else, mom? Does it hurt badly?” Mark’s pinched voice came from somewhere to her left.

“No, it’s not that,” she said, her injuries all but forgotten. “I think I forgot how warm the sun felt.”

Debbie was taken to what could only be described as a penthouse. This building seemed to be the only thing intact among the senseless destruction. She didn't ask what became of their house. It didn't seem necessary. The two-floor apartment was encased in windows, granting a panoramic view of her failures. The roof deck even had a pool that seemed to stretch out from one end to the other, as well as a cozy fireplace surrounded by a garden sofa. It was grand. Aristocratic. She couldn't help but wonder which rich family had lived here before they were brutally murdered.

From now on, and until Nolan decided she was more trouble than she was worth having around, this would turn out to be her golden, gilded cage.

The fact that there was absolutely no security measures around the perimeters pissed her off that much more. It seemed like she could climb down the stairs or take the elevator and walk out here at any given time. The message was obvious; she could try and run if she wanted. Hell, maybe there was a chance she'd make it quite far, though no matter the distance, no matter where she fled to, it was all pointless in the end.

There was not a single place on earth where she could hide.

Nolan hovered but remained silent. Debbie had no intention of entertaining him either, so for the time that Mark was gone, the few minutes passed by excruciatingly slowly. With her back pettily turned, she could feel his eyes shamelessly boring into her. She dug her fingernails into her elbows, arms crossed over her chest. She despised this feeling, she despised knowing the lingering tension in the air between them, words that would not come out of Nolan’s mouth for whatever reason. She despised feeling as if she somehow still knew her husband even through silent gestures.

“Mom,” Mark finally appeared by her side, eyes focused slightly above her, arms now empty. A selfish part of her hoped that Eve and Rex were still alive. Another part of her hoped they wouldn’t have to deal with this cruelty any longer, for death was mercy.

“It’s going to be okay.” Mark took her hand and guided her toward the sectional couch, its fabric a rich hue of dark forest green in the middle of the spacious living room. As she was coaxed to take a seat, he zipped out of vision, and merely a second later, Mark was back with an emergency medkit in his hands. Debbie remained quiet as Mark struggled to patch her up, the tip of his tongue barely peeking through his lips while he focused on cleaning and bandaging her head.

He was gentle with her, extremely conscious of his every move. “Does it still hurt?” He asked, fretful eye tracking her every breath. “I’m sure there are some painkillers in here somewhere.” After nearly turning the apartment upside down for a minute, Mark managed to find a half-empty pack of Tylenol. He flew over with a glass of water, watching her closely as she numbly stared down at the pill on her palm.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he commented, tapping twice at the side of his head. “But then again, I’m no expert, so... we should probably get an expert. Dad?”

“I’ll see to getting a doctor here as soon as possible.”

Debbie popped the pill in her mouth and quickly downed it with a few gulps of water. Then, she looked up at Mark, who was nearly pressed against her on the couch. The mask still covered the right side of his face while the other one was singed. She lifted her hand, reaching out to press her palm over the exposed side, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. Immediately, her son leaned against her hand, the tension draining out of his frame with a small sigh.

Concern, guilt, anger, exhaustion. Conflict and desperation. A selfless devotion. Love. There was so much humanity clinging to Mark’s expressive eyes she could almost fool herself that life was just as it used to be; the three of them and their not-so-normal, everyday life. If she wanted to, she could almost feign ignorance and blindly live on for the rest of her days, only to salvage fragments of the past.

Almost.

Was she in the wrong to condemn her son in the same image as his father? Were they truly accomplices in these war crimes as the public claimed, or was he merely another victim strung up in the schemes of a nation that was beyond any of them?

“Am I going to be locked up in here until I have no use to you?” She asked with a sardonic smile, her words directed mostly towards Nolan, even though her eyes remained on Mark. “Not that it really makes any difference to you. Even if I somehow live to see my eighties or nineties, by the time I’m gone, you won’t even remember I ever existed. Humanity. So fickle and puny, huh?”

“Don’t say that!” Mark cried out, his hands shooting up to clutch at her hand. With furrowed brows and jaw clenched, he glared down at their joined hands. “We can’t do this without you, mom. We need you here. I need you. Dad and I will do everything in our power to keep you safe.”

A wildfire hailed chaos in his gaze, spitting out the words with venom, “After what Cecil did to us, after what he did to you- no one can be trusted. We only have each other, now.”

“After what Cecil did to me?” She echoed, the accusation sounding ludicrous and downright delusional coming from Mark’s mouth. “Cecil saved me and protected me from your-”

“No, we saved you. We freed you from him. He held you in a tiny cell against your will for months .” Mark shot up, hovering a few inches above the floor. “Cecil was nothing more than a hypocritical, arrogant asshole. Do you know that he threatened to hurt you to get to us? How he held your life over us for leverage? One time, he said to us that you were ‘humanity’s last line of defense’. As long as they still had you locked up and compliant in their little rathole, they had a way of controlling us. Of containing us. Cecil never fucking cared about you, mom. You were only a means to an end.”

“No. No, he- he wouldn’t.” She got up and backed away from Mark as he tried to approach her, bringing up a hand to stop him in his tracks. She felt detached from her body, her mind drifting to a place far away from the present, her eyes flicking to the vast blue outside the windows, seeing but not looking.

He wouldn’t. She was certain of that. Yes, Cecil might have been bullheaded and controlling as hell, but he wasn’t rotten. He had gone to great lengths just to keep her safe and under their supervision, which, in turn, meant sacrificing a fair share of her freedom. And maybe always under watch and heavy surveillance, monitoring her every move and confining her in a two-by-two room with the fake window as her only source of connection to the outside world. Maybe she was intentionally kept in the dark, helpless and desolate, disconnected from reality. If it weren’t for Eve and her consoling company, she might have lost her mind a long time ago. But all this? It was done with the best intentions in mind.

Best intentions for whom?

A vicious voice played the devil’s advocate in the back of her mind, bringing forth the splitting headache of doubt. Because deep down, she knew what kind of person Cecil was. Deep down, she knew about his unconditional devotion to humanity and its survival. He might have had the best intentions in mind for her, but in the grand scheme of things? Her life meant nothing in the perseverance of the planet.

“We would never hurt you. You’re the only thing worth protecting.” Mark inched closer and shyly brushed his fingers over the back of her hand, loosely grasping it, seeking comfort in her presence in the exact way he used to when he was a young boy. “I love you, mom.”

And worst of all, she truly trusted her son’s words. Despite everything, despite the horrors she had witnessed, her treacherous, fickle heart believed that they would never dare raise a single finger on her, and oh, what a dangerous thing that was, blinding her with false hope.

“This soon will be over. When the Empire arrives, you’ll have nothing to worry about ever again. In the meantime, you’ll be safe here.”

Debbie looked up, meeting Nolan’s gaze. Then, he glanced at Mark and gestured for him with a slight jerk of his head. Giving her hand a small squeeze, Mark finally let go and joined Nolan at his side. Only a moment later, she was walking out onto the balcony of the main floor to catch a glimpse of their disappearing forms in the vastness of the sky.

In the days that followed, her life became... normal. The irony was uncanny, seeing as her daily routine returned to how it used to be; alone in a house that was never meant for only one person, the endless cycle occasionally disrupted by Nolan and Mark. They rarely showed up together. Most of the time, it was only Mark who bothered to visit her, either hovering over her or offering to help her out with whatever chore she decided to keep herself busy with that day.

Nolan did not visit. Debbie couldn’t help but wonder why he even went through all that trouble to keep her alive if he was going to erase her from his life the next second.

It was laughable. Pitiful. If she were to ignore the apocalyptic images that surrounded her, she could almost pretend that her life was back in its usual place. Almost. Both the electricity and water were running normally. The fridge and pantry were always fully stocked, not even a day going by without having everything she needed and more at her disposal. Here she was, drowning in luxury while the rest of the world burned.

Every so often, the thought of fleeing passed through Debbie’s mind. When she realized each time just how flawed the plan was, any amount of bravado she possessed simply vanished because, worst of all, she wasn’t being treated unfairly. Quite the opposite. She felt cherished. What would she run from? The lavishness and loneliness? What could she possibly hope to find out there that would not get her killed in a matter of days?

No, not cherished, she thought bitterly. Prized would be a more appropriate word because that’s what she was. A prize. The gullible fool who brought damnation upon earth. And yet, Debbie did nothing- could do nothing as she sat upon the stained throne of her own making, indulging in all amenities built upon the lives of hundreds of thousands. The blood was on her hands.

Suddenly, a hand tightened roughly around her wrist, jerking her arm in place.

“Mom, what are you doing?!”

She slowly blinked and looked up, coming face to face with her son’s twisted expression. Then, she glanced down and noticed two things. First, she was bleeding from the base of her thumb, a relatively deep cut while the knife was on the floor behind Mark. Oh, that’s right. Hunger had won over her body. Having succumbed to it, Debbie had decided to make herself something to lull the ache in her empty stomach. Her grip must have slipped at some point, it seemed.

“You need to be more careful. What if I wasn’t here?” Mark chastised, pulling her hand under the tap to clean it. She could barely feel the pain, nothing more than a constant, dull throbbing.

“It doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop bleeding anytime soon.”

Debbie numbly stared at the blood that welled up, a thin line that trickled down to her wrist. She said nothing. After a pause, her hand was lifted and pulled close until-

Until Mark’s mouth was skimming up her wrist, stained lips wiping away the blood. He lingered upon the open cut on the side of her thumb, a sigh blown through his nose tickling her hand. When she felt the wetness of something else grazing ever so lightly over her bleeding wound, she snapped out of it and yanked her hand back, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

“It’s fine,” she said with alarmed shakiness. She forced a smile, hoping that it seemed more genuine rather than a grimace. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

Surprisingly, for once, Mark didn’t pester her much further about it. After he offered her a few pads of gauze to apply pressure against the wound, he took her position at the kitchen counter.

“What were you making? I can help you with it.”

For the following several minutes, Debbie observed him in silence as he went about in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He hardly needed any instructions as he had watched her work her magic in the kitchen countless times in the past. He moved seamlessly with not a single care in the world. It was all so... domestic.

She wondered when her son had become such a convincing actor.

However, when the food was ready and served, Debbie’s patience reached its limit. She could only avoid confrontation for so long, and these precious moments when Nolan was not present were ideal, for Mark would not be swayed by his father’s imperious influence.

“You seriously don’t see anything wrong with this?”

Mark smacked his lips, “It’s the fried rice, isn’t it? I knew I made it too salty-”

“Mark.” She interrupted sharply, glaring at him across the table. “Don’t bullshit me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The speed at which all emotion withered from his face, eyes hardening into something frigid and detached nearly sent her into a state of panic.

“We’re helping make the world a better place. Not everyone's gonna like it, I get that, but after this is all over, humanity will prosper. It- It’s a necessary evil. I don't expect you to understand, mom.” Mark explained, and she couldn't help but wonder who he was trying to convince more; her or himself.

“Because a puny human like me could never understand, right? Does that make my life worthless?”

He frowned. “What? No, that's not- I didn't even say-”

“Amber, William, the Guardians of the Globe; all of these people who used to be your friends. I'm sure they’ll all be so grateful for a better, safer world. Oh, but wait...” Debbie leaned back and tapped her hand on her forehead in a mocking gesture as if she was only just now struck by the sudden realization. “They’ll be too fucking dead to show you their gratitude!”

Mark clenched his jaw, a vein appearing over the side of his neck as the metal of the knife and fork was bent in his deathly grip.

“What about Eve and Rex?” She pressed on, playing with fire. Even so, she refused to be afraid of her son. Physically, there was nothing she could do, but she damn well could knock some fucking sense into him. “Did you have them killed just like the rest of them? Did they ‘force’ your hand by resisting? Are these the lies you delude yourself with to ease your conscience?”

“Stop. Stop it.” Mark argued weakly, his voice trembling.

“Did you stop? Did you stop when they begged for mercy? When they begged for their lives?” She shook her head, a touch of wretched sorrow flashing in her eyes. “You loved life. You loved humanity and all of its flaws. Despite all the burdens you had to carry, you strived to do good by people because that's who you are. What happened to that boy?”

Cautiously, she slid her hand across the table, keeping it several inches away from Mark’s clenched fists.

“What happened to my boy?”

For a long time, there was nothing but suffocating silence. Debbie wore an expression of bleeding sincerity, of open honesty and tenderness. She might have been harsh, yes, but she needed Mark to see the brutality in their ways. Mark was not a Viltrumite and would never be. Not her Mark, not the boy she raised, and the man he grew into. She knew- she hoped that was true. If her boy was terrified and lost, misguided by his father’s sweetened promises, she was responsible for pulling him up to the surface. After everything, it was the least she could do.

When Mark inhaled sharply, the words that spilled out of his mouth shattered her heart into a million pieces.

“Dad said you might... do something like this. Said I should be careful ‘cause you’d try to mess with my head. I didn’t want to believe him at first, but I can see now that he was right.”

She helplessly watched as Mark struggled to rationalize her behavior, believing his own mother capable of wishing to cause him hurt. The roots of Nolan’s influence reached deeper than she estimated. It was worse than she feared.

“After everything we’ve been through together, do you honestly believe that?”

“It’s not what I believe, it’s about what is.”

She scoffed. “Since when did his words become law?”

“My father only wants what’s best for all of us. Why can’t you see that?” Mark retaliated and carelessly tossed the ruined silverware on the table before pushing away from the chair.

“You’re exterminating the human race in the name of salvation, a utopia that none of us might ever survive to see.” Debbie had all but forgotten about her cut, the wound having reopened and soaked the bandage in red from her clenched fists. “Since when did human life become so expendable to you, Mark? I look at my own son and all I see is-”

“Enough!” Mark exploded and whirled around to slam a fist through the table, breaking it into pieces with sickening, unrestrained force. His chest heaved with each shuddering breath, eyes wild and nostrils flared. Debbie prided herself on her fearlessness and bravery, refusing to yield under the intensity of the threat that both Nolan and Mark posed. Even so, she couldn’t help the flinch at Mark’s display of violence, involuntarily taking half a step back. When he noticed her frightened movement, he froze, his face transforming into one of a deer in headlights.

“I think you should leave.” She said, keeping her tone collected but firm.

Mark’s lips opened and closed, yet no words could be produced. With hurt briefly flashing in his eyes, he swiftly shielded his face with his mask and, in less than a second, was out of the apartment, leaving her alone. She held her breath while letting the seconds pass, ensuring she was well and truly alone. Then, the air left her lungs like a bullet, staggering and catching herself against the kitchen island.

She turned to gaze outside the open balcony doors where Mark had escaped to and couldn’t help but think that she made things worse by trying to intervene, a part of her stabbed with guilt for being the cause of her son’s turmoil.

Chapter Text

After that, Mark didn’t visit. Not outright, at least. For the first few weeks or so, Debbie began to believe that she had managed to fully drive him away, and that this all-consuming emptiness would be her life from now on. When the mark of a month rolled around, she began to grow... paranoid. Agitated. She began to notice and catch shapes in the corner of her eyes, shadows that lurked close to the edge of her bed but were always too fast to catch. Or, perhaps, they were never real in the first place. Perhaps it was her broken mind playing tricks on her, offering her the comfort of a false presence.

But then, she found herself paying close attention to the details, to the familiar figures that lingered in her peripheral vision and the tingling sensation of being watched. She knew, then, that her shadows took the shape of her son. He had taken her words to heart, but he could not keep away.

It was... unsettling, at first. Knowing that at any point in the day, Mark was out there, out of sight but just... watching. Those eyes were tracking her every move. Debbie thought about calling out to him on several occasions, though something always prevented her from doing so. Oddly enough, she didn’t want to scare him away. During those weeks, she came to the dreadful realization that a life without her son was a life not worth living, despite all the pain and loss delivered by his hands. He was the only familiar thing left. If not for her son, there was no point in trying.

Thus, when she sensed those eyes upon her, she selfishly displayed signs that he was still wanted; always preparing food enough for two, intentionally packing Mark’s share, and storing it in the fridge. Leaving the balcony doors wide open during the day as a silent invitation. Soon enough, the meals began to disappear from the fridge, thinking it was progress.

Mark, however, still remained in the shadows.

It was late at night when a prickling sensation traveling across her scalp woke her up in a daze, eyes snapping wide to pitch darkness. There was nothing; Debbie could not sense or hear anything besides her own, rising breathing, yet something nameless gnawed at her insides, something that drilled its rigid attention at the back of her head. She didn’t turn around and kept lying on her side with her back facing the bedroom door. She doubted she could even move if she wanted to.

At first, she assumed it was Mark. Who else could possibly sneak into her bedroom in the dead of the night? Besides, he was the only one who knew that Debbie was confined in this apartment since they were the ones who brought her here. But then again, the... suffocating tension in the air was uncharacteristic, even for him. Not a single soul knew she lived here- hell, nobody else probably even knew she was alive.

It felt like eons before the tension snapped and time resumed flowing again. When the mattress behind her dipped under the heavy weight, she instantly knew who it was.

“Don’t.” She whispered in the dead of the night, hands fisting around the soft fabric of her pillow. A pause of hesitation, no more than a second, and then the body moved, pressing themselves flat against her back, enveloping her frame in distasteful warmth. Her plea fell to deaf ears as those strong, immovable arms were wrapped around her torso, pulling her impossibly close, holding her hostage. She gasped when lips skimmed over the side of her neck, grazing her with familiar fuzziness.

“Why are you here?”

Her heart raced, slamming up against her ribcage. Normally, she would have already been yelling and screaming bloody murder at the audacity, at the sheer nerve to seek her out in this fashion, like nothing had happened. Normally, she would be putting up a fight until her voice went raw. And yet, she didn’t. Debbie felt the weight of the world crashing her, an exhaustion so profound that she unwillingly found solace in the arms of someone who used to make her feel as if nothing in the world could bring her down.

“I should have killed you long ago,” Nolan murmured against her nape; a wretched confession, a besotted desire that was never fulfilled.

Her muscles went taut like a bowstring being pulled, hands flying to clutch at the arms that held her captive. Was that the reason for his return, then? To finish the job? Terror trickled down her spine, seizing her being. Her mortality feared the unknown, as any human would. However, Debbie refrained from struggling. Not only would it be futile, but it seemed... fitting, she supposed. Twenty years ago, her life had flashed before her eyes in a freak accident. It was moments before facing certain death that Nolan saved her. It seemed appropriate that only he would have the rightful claim over her life, doing so with it as he pleased.

Perhaps, she thought, he could find it in himself to be merciful. To grant her a painless death undeserving.

“Then why haven’t you?” She challenged, knowing that her end was near. Did Mark know about this? Had Nolan informed him what he was about to do? She wondered if they would mourn for her. She wondered if, in five hundred years, they would even remember her.

She wished she could hug her son for one final time.

Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back, her right arm pinned next to her head on the bed. She blinked up, and even though she could barely see anything, nothing more than a familiar silhouette, she knew that Nolan was looking her right in the eyes. A hand came up, brushing away the stray strands from her face and tucking them behind her ear. Those same fingers stroked her cheek in a moment of tender respite before sliding down to grasp her chin.

“Because I can’t.”

Her eyes widened at the shocking revelation, the cogs inside her mind coming to an abrupt halt. Before she could even begin to comprehend the significance hidden between those words, Nolan surged forward and captured her lips into a bruising and ravenous kiss. A muffled moan of surprise was swallowed by Nolan’s mouth, their lips brushing together in a frenzy. She struggled, then, more so for her pride than anything else. The vice grip on her arm only tightened, Nolan’s weight bearing down on her.

The hand left her chin, traveling down her body and leaving a scorching trail until it came to rest upon her hip, fingers digging into her skin beneath her clothes, branding her. Soon, she began to squirm and thrash for air, uselessly smacking and clawing at Nolan. He didn’t seem like he had any intention of stopping. When it nearly became too much, Debbie somehow managed to wrench her face to the side. The first gulp of oxygen was euphoric, wheezing with each gasp as her body trembled.

Nolan panted, deep and heavy, puffs of air fanning over her jaw. Suddenly, fingers closed around the front of her neck, flexing and squeezing ever so slightly.

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” He breathed hotly against her face, sounding wrecked and raw. “Everything’s set in motion; humanity’s surrender is near, ready to relinquish its autonomy to the Empire for a better future. We have eliminated every vermin that the Empire would deem weak, but you...“

A slither of light seeped through the shutters, the moonlight’s pale glow dousing the side of Nolan’s face, revealing to her the uncontrollable blizzard of emotions hailing in those eyes; humiliation, the shameful sin of vulnerability, searing fury, and above all, the staggering, near tangible gleam of obsession and possessiveness.

“You are my only weakness that I can’t seem to get rid of.”

The hand around her neck clenched further until her raging heartbeat was pulsating in her ears, keeping her swaying between the edge of pain and unconsciousness, choking and gasping for air. Then, with the rush of the wind against her face, the pressure vanished from her neck. Debbie remained on her back for several minutes, doing nothing but inhaling and exhaling deeply before pushing herself up further to sit on the bed.

She covered her neck with her hand and glanced towards the open bedroom door. Her head was a mess, lost in a bottomless sea, unsure as to what she was supposed to think or feel. It would have been easier if she kept on believing that she never mattered, her life paling into an insignificant tale of betrayal and forsakenness. The curse of knowing trampled down on her chest, leaving her with the memory of breathlessness.

She was loved (though she doubted something as cruel and as insatiable could be called love), but at what cost?

Even when she eventually lay back down, her fluttering heart refused to calm down. Her mind drew a blank for the rest of the night, unable to fall asleep.

There was only so much she could take before her sanity was plunged into tatters. She didn’t even have a way to keep track of time. It could have been merely weeks or countless months since her confinement. Sometimes, it felt like eons would pass without seeing another living soul. Mark had yet to visit her, and Nolan... after their last encounter, it was only right to assume that he would stay away for an indefinite period.

She needed to move. She needed to be active, to- to do something, anything other than sit and rot away in this gilded cage as if she were entirely helpless. She needed out. Now, was her spontaneous decision to leave the safety of the apartment wise? Probably not. Was she still going to proceed with her little escapade? Absolutely. She reminded herself not to get too far, not that she was afraid of getting lost, per se, but there was nothing but destruction for miles out. Debbie was putting herself in danger just by walking out the ground-floor doors of the building. That, and the fact that she didn’t want to give any reason to Mark and Nolan, and plant the belief that she was attempting to flee. She didn’t have the faintest idea of how they would react were she to do so, and honestly, she didn’t want to find out.

Having said that, her little stroll proved to be more challenging than initially planned, for the roads were all decimated. Debbie thought she had a vague idea of where she was located, but it was honestly hard to pinpoint accurately. Well, not that it really mattered. Whether she was in another state or another continent entirely, it wouldn’t change a thing. No one was left. No one was coming to save them. Humanity had long since been forsaken.

And forsaken it was by its own people. Dust and smoke filled her lungs, each strenuous inhale more stifling than the other. Locked in the seclusion of her luxurious prison, Debbie was spared from having to face the ruthless reminder of her cursed bloodline. The lifeless bodies lay scattered among the rubble and ruins, mangled and mutilated beyond recognition. Most were already eroding, a foul stench of rot and decay causing her to gag and fill her eyes with tears. Others looked... fresh, but those were few and far between.

How she could still live with herself was a mystery. Debbie wasn’t one to quit so easily, but this... this would kill her one day. The devouring guilt of millions of souls would forever haunt her, their pleading voices and forlorn cries lost in obliviation.

“Are you lost, miss?”

She startled at the sudden voice calling out to her, whipping around towards the source. Two men had almost sneaked up on her, too close for comfort. They were dressed in what she could only describe as rugs, though under these conditions, it wasn’t out of place. However, what was odd was their reason for walking the surface. Nobody was to be seen on the surface, not if they could help it. Whatever population was left, they had all abandoned the world to hide underground, anywhere that was not out in the open to make themselves targets. She might have been sheltered since all this started, but she at least knew as much.

“We have a little community not far from here, down in the sewers. It’s not ideal, but we make it work. If you don’t have anywhere else to go, you can come with us, yeah?” The other stranger spoke, flashing her a gracious smile.

What good Samaritans. It was hard to come by in this world, she thought. Even so, she was going to turn down their offer as she mimicked the amiable act, plastering on a small smile of her own. Something about this situation prodded at her alarm bells, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking in.

“No, that’s alright, I have my family waiting for me, though I appreciate the offer.” She noticed the slight twitching on the stranger’s face that offered his kindness, the smile slowly faltering.

“How many people are there in total?” The other pressed on, taking half a step forward. “We can take you in, I’m sure of it. We have everything you might need. We can protect you.”

A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she tried to maintain the facade. “Sorry, but we don’t really do well in groups. May God be on your side through these hard times.”

Normally, she would have already walked (more like ran) away by now, but she felt that she would seal her fate the moment her back was turned on them. When their masks crumbled, their expressions twisting into something vile and ugly, Debbie knew then that it was too late to run. She bolted, but hands were upon her in a matter of seconds, crushing her wrists in their grip, her bones grinding together.

“Maybe you need a little something to change your mind, yeah?” Fingers worked on undoing her pants, her violent writhing doing nothing against the hand that was forcefully shoved inside, groping at the meat of her thigh. “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll take real good care of-”

She stomped on the man’s foot with all of her strength, and when his grip faltered ever so slightly, she elbowed him in the face with a satisfied crunch. He howled and staggered back, releasing her. When she thought that her freedom was secured, she was slammed to the ground, barely having the time to bring her hands forward to save herself from a concussion or worse, scraping them roughly against the concrete.

“Fucking bitch broke my nose!”

“Shut up, Ryan,” came the voice from behind her, spoken into her skin as she felt a wide smile taking shape on her nape. When the man rutted against her ass and groaned in her ear, she bit down on her tongue until her mouth was full of a metallic taste. “Fuck, I can’t wait to feel the tightness of a warm pussy again. The other ones don’t do it for me anymore.”

When the true meaning behind those words registered in her head, Debbie dry-heaved, fighting to swallow down the bile that rose in her throat- but then again, maybe it was better to let herself choke on her own puke and not give this monster the satisfaction of using her body while she was still her. She kept thrashing and flailing, bucking her hips to get them off, though she was outnumbered and outmatched in physical strength. Her stomach cramped with nausea and white-hot fury, tears of frustration blurring her vision at her inability to defend herself.

The moment her pants were yanked down, fingers teasingly fiddling with the elastic band of her underwear, she steeled herself for the oncoming torment.

She waited with her heart in her throat. And waited, failing to notice when the pressure disappeared from her altogether, leaving her bare on the ground. When her senses reluctantly returned to the present, she heard a faint sound, repeating like a broken record player.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Painstakingly slow, too scared to allow herself the false hope of security, Debbie turned towards the sound. Two bodies, the strangers who attacked her were now brutally maimed; one had his limbs torn off, nothing but a torso that lay in a pool of its own blood, and the other-

The familiar suit of black-yellow-blue filled her vision, watching in muted shock as Mark straddled the lifeless corpse, his stained fists slamming down in unrestrained frenzy. Punch after punch, until Mark was covered in blood and brain matter, until the man’s face was completely blown to bits, and still, he did not stop. She hesitantly called out his name, yet he seemed detached, blinded by an all-consuming rage that sent shivers down her spine. When his punches began meeting concrete, the ground shaking beneath them with every strike, Debbie pulled herself together. She quickly pulled up her underwear and pants, pushing herself to unsteady feet.

The moment she took a step forward, his head snapped towards her, the flames running rampant in his eyes caused her to freeze up. It took him a second to realize who was standing before him, his gaze softening ever so slightly when he met her eyes.

“Do you get it, now?” Mark said, his voice hoarse and raw with emotions. He floated up and pointed at the body beneath him. “This is what we’re trying to protect you from. This is what we’ve been fighting against. What if I wasn’t here? He would’ve-” Mark blew out a shaky breath, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry,” she said and slowly, cautiously, stepped closer. She should have felt appalled and horrified at the display, at how easy it was for Mark to take a life so brutally, even when the life was nothing more than a blackened, incorrigible soul. Instead, all Debbie felt was staggering relief, caring for nothing but having her son finally within her sights after so long.

With one final step, she closed the remaining distance between them and gathered him in her arms, unconcerned that he was covered in dripping blood.

“Thank you.” She whispered. A second later, she found herself in his tight embrace.

I missed you, she meant to say. Never do this to me again. Never leave me like that. You’re all I have.

That same night, Debbie fell asleep with her son in her arms, curled up like an infant with his arms wrapped around her waist.

For the entirety of the following day, he didn't let her out of his sight, trailing behind her like a lost puppy, always clinging to her- perhaps a bit too much, but she didn't have it in her to tell him otherwise. Frankly, she didn't want to send him away. The last time they had an ugly argument, it led to Mark avoiding her for weeks on end.

Still, she could not do this again. She could not go through another period of only having the comfort of her own voice inside her head, spiraling out of control.

She had been holding off from breaching this topic way too long, either way.

Debbie gently raked her fingers through Mark’s hair, his face buried in her belly while sprawled on the couch. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, occasionally rubbing his face against her in an attempt to burrow even further in. If he were capable of it, she wholeheartedly believed that he'd be purring right now like a kitten curled up on her lap.

Every fibre of her being was telling her to keep her mouth shut, lest she break the serene bubble that surrounded them, a precious moment of respite that she hadn't had the chance to indulge in over- more than a year.

“Mark, there’s something I have to ask,” she eased in, keeping her voice low and soft. She huffed at the grunt she received as a response and gently tugged at his hair to get his attention.

“I need you to look at me, honey.”

“What?” Mark mumbled drowsily, shifting on her lap to glance up at her.

Debbie cleared her throat, still combing her son’s hair as a form of distraction, “I was wondering how Eve and Rex were doing. I haven’t seen them in a while and-”

Mark tensed, his brows pinching together in a grimace. Petulantly, he angled his head away in an attempt to hide his face against her stomach. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just... worry about them.” She brought her hand down and cupped his jaw, coaxing his head back. “When I had no one, they were there for me. Am I not allowed to miss them, too?”

Mark remained silent, his eyes averted with a displeased, stubborn expression. His reaction was more of a childish tantrum than anything else, so she chose to continue, thinking that she had the situation under control. “I want to see them.”

“No.” Mark said after a beat, pushing himself away from her lap.

“No?” She echoed, her eyes tracking the tense lines of his shoulders. “I don’t see the harm in-”

“I said no. What, am I not enough for you, mom? You don’t need them.”

She blinked, her lips parting in stunned silence, finding herself lost for words. There was some reassurement to be found in the way Mark spoke about them, because it meant they were still alive. His son’s declining lucidity, however, was alarmingly concerning. Debbie felt as if a part of her son was slipping through her fingers with each passing day, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Mark, sweetheart, are you listening to yourself? When did I ever say that you aren’t enough? I only want to see them to make sure they’re alright. I haven’t seen them in months. I didn’t even know if they were... alive or not. Surely, one visit won’t-”

Suddenly, fingers snatched her wrist, forcing her to lean back against the couch as Mark hovered over her, eyes alit with something manic and dangerous. Desperate. “I’m the one who saved you, time after time. I’m the only one who can protect you. Me. Your son. What have they ever done for you?”

He breathed heavily, panting, looking as if his hysteria was building up to a panic attack. His eyes were glassy, haunted by invisible ghosts of his own creation. He looked scared.

“What if they try to take you? What- What if they decide that it’s better to kill you? You don’t think they would, but you don’t know them. You don’t know what this war has turned them into.”

Her eyes softened with a touch of sorrow, her stomach churning with pity. What horrors did his eyes see, what voices haunted his mind that made him look so terrified? This was wrong. This was all wrong. Their lives were meant for something more than this. God, how could Debbie ever come to hate her boy when he looked at her like she was his only lifeline?

When Mark met her gaze, he must have seen something in them that caused him to withdraw into himself. Only a second later, he was halfway across the living room, his back turned to her.

“I... I’ll see what I can do.”

He was gone before she could get a word in. She stared at the space where he used to be only seconds ago whilst struggling to process everything. This... erratic behavior left her whiplashed every time, completely lost as to how she was supposed to handle it. She felt like a failure as a mother, incapable of seeing her son for what he truly was. There was a time when she used to read him like an open book, but now... now, it felt like a losing battle. It frustrated her beyond imagination, furious with herself for trying and, somehow, only making things worse.

Debbie leaned forward to prop her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. For reasons she could not decipher, her son seemed to change his mind at the very last second. While ambiguous, she hoped that he would see reason. God knows she needed some clarity, a voice of reason through this utter madness.

The days rolled by in a vicious cycle, and Debbie began to lose all hope of change. Their last exchange replayed in her head over and over again, an endeavor to unearth the faults in her approach, the errors in her words- anything that she could have done or said differently, but it always led to a dead end.

She could pretend. She could masquerade as false security and bliss, deceive them by warped lies, but this would only serve to further reinforce their own madness and hypocrisy. It would achieve nothing but broaden the rift that was already between them.

Debbie dreaded the days, each one passing by feeling as if the end was rapidly closing in on her. She had never taken the time to consider what the after would bring. After the Viltrum Empire were to arrive on Earth and inaugurate the new tyranny. She had no idea how the hierarchy worked, had no way of knowing just what kind of authority Nolan held and what point it reached. They discarded the weak like trash, nothing more than wastes of space and air; that much she knew. Who was to say that they wouldn’t kill her off? She doubted either Nolan or Mark would be able to hold them off or convince them otherwise. A human like her had no place beside Viltrumites. This, everything they were trying to build, could never include her.

The next time Mark visited her, he forwent the greeting, instead uttering words that made her thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

“I’ll take you to them.”

He didn’t have to specify, nor say the names out loud. It couldn’t have been about anyone else. “Really?” She asked with a hint of hesitation, having assumed that her request to visit Rex and Eve was out of the picture.

“Yes,” Mark said and held out his hand. “We should get this over with before I change my mind.”

This time, Debbie held no hesitation as she crossed the living room in no more than six steps, grasping her son’s offered hand. Once she was secured in his arms, they took off, soaring through the clouds. The journey to the facility didn’t last more than a few minutes, but there was something about the false sense of weightlessness, the chilly wind caressing her cheeks making her wonder how it would feel to need no support at all.

When they arrived, Debbie was stunned to find the place nearly packed with working personnel. For some reason, she didn’t think that anyone would side with Nolan and Mark in their mission to bring Earth under Viltrum’s heel. Humanity was definitely full of surprises. She was quick to judge and berated herself for it. She couldn’t possibly know what hell these people went through to reach this decision. Perhaps it was the only way to keep themselves and their families alive.

“She’s through here.” Finally, Mark placed her down and jerked his head at one of the men who were standing guard on the left side. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Only ten minutes? she thought in dismay, though she refrained from making any comment. They allowed her to get away with a lot of things, therefore, she didn’t want to push her luck. Still, as the door slid open and she was about to take a step forward, Mark was nearly glued to her back, ready to follow her in.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Debbie said in tender crooning, loathing the fact that she had to resort to this tactless form of manipulation. Hand reaching up, she gently patted him twice on the right cheek. “You’ll wait for me outside?”

And with that hopeful sweetness in her voice, Mark had no choice but to let her go alone, frowning in clear objection against the idea.

“Be careful.”

When she walked in, Debbie barely heard the audible click of the door closing behind her. She was too preoccupied staring in horror at the sight of Eve chained up and collared across the tiny cell, having no choice but to lie on the hard, cold floor.

She looked... malnourished. Her skin was thin and sickly pale. Her collarbones were protruding, her cheeks sunken. Eve hadn’t even bothered to look up, her head bowed, hollow eyes lowered and fixated on the floor before her. There was nothing left of her, nothing of her usual, fierce glow that captured and demanded your attention.

“God, what have they done to you?”

The sound of her voice rekindled that same spark, her eyes flashing as she whipped her head up. “Debbie,” Eve croaked with disbelief, the handcuffs around her wrists clinking together as she slightly shifted forward. “Am I hallucinating?”

“No, no, I’m here.” She rushed forward and dropped to her knees before Eve, wrapping the girl in a tight hug. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Look at you,” a lump formed in her throat, fighting back the tears whilst she delicately cradled Eve’s face. How could her son treat her like this? What kind of excuse was enough for this neglect and abuse? His own friend.

“How could he do this to you?”

“It's been a rough couple of months. Has it been months? I can't tell.” Came the muffled response, resting her forehead on Debbie's shoulder. “You look good. I'm glad.”

“This is just... too much.” Debbie slightly pulled back, letting her fingers linger over the collar around Eve’s neck. It looked heavy and incredibly uncomfortable. Collared and chained like an animal.

“It’s an inhibitor collar. It prevents me from using my powers and only comes off from a specific device- but this is a good thing.”

She blinked, looking at Eve as if she had lost it. A fierce smile curved on her lips, her eyes glistening with fire. “This is solid proof that there's a way to beat both of them. Two of these, and the fight’s over before it can even start.” She tapped at the thick metal, a small, red light flashing at the side of it.

Her heart leaped to her throat, blood rushing to her ears in constant buzzing. If what Even said was true, if these collars could block one's powers altogether, then...

They had a chance at fighting back.

Even so, this mere idea they had was not enough to go on. In only seconds, Debbie could find about a dozen flaws in why this wouldn't work. With most of their fighters incapacitated, they stood no chance against Mark and Nolan. Putting these collars on them was impossible.

“It's never going to work.”

Even insisted, firmly grasping her hand. “You can make it work.”

“Me?” Debbie shook her head with an incredulous smile. “Eve, you can't be serious-”

“They trust you. They'll let their guard down around you, even more so considering they think you're weak. Now’s our only chance. We can’t afford to waste any more time. Are you with us?”

She wished she could hide away from Eve’s scrutiny, the burning hope in her eyes making it impossible to refuse. Isn’t this what they wanted? What she wanted? To finally put an end to this tyranny brought forward by her own family? The lives of billions were at stake.

But it wouldn’t stop there. Perhaps Eve would feed her with fabricated lies, consoling her that they only meant to capture Mark and Nolan, yet she knew the world could not afford to take any more risks. The moment both of them were to be weakened by the collars and beaten down to the fragility of a human, their lives would be over.

Did she have what it takes to kill her own son and husband?

Debbie was incapable of fooling herself into thinking she had the guts for it. She could never bring herself to even harm them, much less be the one to condemn them to their deaths. It was not even about being unable to bring herself to see it through- she didn’t want to in the first place. What a tragic irony, what selfish and grotesque hypocrisy, to be still fond and ache for humanity’s nightmare incarnate.

“In no more than three weeks, you’ll find two collars hidden behind the second dumpster around the corner of the building where they’re keeping you.” Eve smiled at the bewildered expression on her face. “They haven’t caught all of us yet.”

She chewed on her lower lip, “And what if I fail? Even if I somehow get one of them, I can’t-”

“We’ll know. We’ll take care of the rest. You only need to do this for us.” Eve drew back, pressing herself against the wall at the sound of the door behind them sliding open.

“You are our last hope.”

A hand seized her bicep, dragging her out of the cell. A moment later, the door was locked in place, and she was left gaping at the dull gray as if the interaction had been an illusion.

“Are you alright, mom?”

“Of course I’m alright,” she replied with more force than she meant to, shaking off Mark’s pawing hands. “What could she possibly do to me in that state? I can’t believe you’re starving her to death.”

Reluctantly, Mark kept his hands to himself, scowling at her. “You know we can’t risk-”

“What about Rex? Does he get the same, special treatment?”

“He’s fine,” he spat out through gritted teeth, the same old stubborn streak returning in his eyes. “You can’t see him. I’ve already gone far beyond letting you meet up with Eve.”

Debbie let out a heavy sigh, clenching her hands into fists to conceal the trembling. With arms crossed over her chest, she turned away. She wasn't ready to go back to that wretched place. Not yet. Not ever. “I want to be left alone. Am I allowed to do that?”

“It’s not safe for you out here, let me fly you back-”

“Remember what happened last time you left me all alone, cooped up in that apartment?”

After a few seconds of strained silence, Mark’s quiet and indignant reply reached her ears. “I’ll come for you in a few.”

When Mark left her, Debbie walked the halls of the facility for a while, but did not wander too far. Away from the prying eyes of the guards that were stationed nearby, she struggled to stay upright, supporting her weight against the wall behind her. Helpless against the tears that welled up in her eyes, she tipped her head back, barely holding herself from breaking apart.

They couldn’t be genuinely considering this. She couldn’t be their last resort. She was in no way qualified to pull off any of it. It wasn’t even about being capable. How could they possibly demand this from a mother? To become the angel of death to her own family; to her husband, to her son - her own flesh and blood.

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She refused to proceed with this plan. Debbie had three weeks to think of something, to think of anything else in order to absolve herself from the responsibility. If only it were that simple, she thought miserably.

Was she prepared to bear the crushing weight of her choices? The remorseless effect of consequences to be unleashed upon the world by her decisions. The plan was extremely flawed and, honestly, foolishly ambitious. There was no guarantee for any of it. Were she to fail, there would be no second chances. There was no coming back from this.

Maybe, just maybe, if she decided to go through with this, and only if she somehow managed to succeed and incapacitate them, Debbie could appeal to Eve and the rest fighters of the Resistance of their usefulness. Maybe they didn’t have to die. She had to think of something, of a solid argument that would make Eve reconsider. There had to be something.

“Your tears are wasted on them.”

Debbie tensed at the sound of that voice, her spine snapping ramrod straight in attention. She didn’t bother wiping away the proof of her fragile vulnerability as she looked up at Nolan. He had already seen everything that made her. Hiding from him was pointless.

The sight of him dressed in his usual white and red suit, regal and imposing, had her heart thrumming. Depraved memories of their last encounter rose to the surface, her chest burning from the inside out. Oh, how she hated him. How she despised everything he stood for. How she needed him.

He was as breathtaking as the day they met.

“My sincerest apologies, I should have known better to preserve them exclusively for you.” She retorted, deflecting, burying deep that which she did not want to be known. The guilt once Debbie met Nolan’s eyes was too great to handle. Caving in, she averted her eyes, fearing that Nolan would see right through her deception.

The harbinger of death. Whether her selfishness would be unleashed on her family or the rest of the world, that remained to be seen.

Her vision was overwhelmed by white and red, helpless against the fingers that grasped her chin and tilted her head up. Those very fingers skirted up, brushing away the stray tear that slipped down her left cheek.

“Look at me.”

Her skin tingled at the low-spoken command, finding herself powerless. Failing to resist the temptation, Debbie glanced up, once more captivated by those cerulean skies trapped in those eyes. Nolan looked unfazed, unaffected by everything that was. The tight indifference on his face disclosed nothing. It was as if she were the only one a slave to her own emotions, bound to a kind of ache that threatened to consume her.

Then, when he leaned down, her heart soared to her throat, thinking he was about to give her what she wasn’t willing to take for herself. Instead, Nolan caressed her cheeks with his lips, each press of his mouth in an imitation of a kiss taking away the tears that stained her skin. Her face sizzled with heat, traveling up to the tips of her ears.

Such an affectionate display was awfully tender of him. A display of hunger and longing. It was uncharacteristic. Animalistic, almost. It was human.

“You’ve been reckless in my absence,” Nolan murmured against the slope of her jaw, forcing her body to bend backward, a warm hand on the small of her back making certain to keep her close.

She shivered, clamping her hands on his shoulders as he continued to breathe the words against her skin. “Your little attempt at escaping has left Mark rattled. Unstable. I’ve never seen him so blinded by his grief and rage. What did you hope to achieve? A way to get back to us? Your sacrifice would mean nothing to these pests.”

“Our son is lost and hurting, caused by your recklessness and neglect. How can you still let our boy suffer so?”

It was unfair. It was unfair and cruel. The regret inside her heart festered like an open, bleeding wound, its tendrils of rot and decay spreading throughout her whole body, corrupting everything in its path.

“I can’t turn a blind eye to everything you’ve both done. This is my home. My people. I will not betray them for your affections.”

Nolan leaned back, tormenting her with the intensity of his attention cast upon her. “And so you would abandon your own son? Your flesh and blood?”

“Don’t use Mark against me. I’m not the bad guy here.” She argued, jabbing her index finger against his chest. Then, she shook her head, snapping herself out of the spell, and went to pull herself away. For a moment, she thought that Nolan wouldn’t let her. She was definitely surprised to feel the arms around her loosen enough for her to take back two steps.

“What do you think is going to happen when your people come here? Do you think they’ll allow us to keep playing family? You’re certainly going through a lot of trouble for someone that won’t even live to see sixty, and that’s being generous.”

Because that was reality. No matter what Nolan or Mark believed they could achieve, she wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Doing all this just to keep someone like her alive when they probably won’t even remember her in two or three hundred years. What was it all for? Even to her, it seemed... pointless. Wouldn’t it be better without her in the picture?

For whom? a small, barbed voice whispered from the darkest recesses of her mind. A part of her might have once believed that Nolan would be affected by her inevitable death, having all the time in the world to come to terms with the loss of his wife. Now... now, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Would he be at all rattled by her passing? Would he mourn for her? Grieve her? Her thoughts darted back to the Guardians of the Globe, Nolan’s former and closest friends of years whom he had slaughtered like animals, as if they never meant anything more to him. She would have liked to delude herself in lies, but it seemed highly unlikely.

Her son, on the other hand... Debbie was terrified for him, and, worst of all, of him. She was terrified of what he could become in the future when she wouldn’t be around anymore. Terrified that he would lose himself and whatever fragments of humanity were left, his sanity all but tangling from a worn-out, flimsy string. Unlike her husband, Mark needs someone in his life to be there for him. He needs to be loved and cared for unconditionally, a support system that all these years had been built around her. Nolan didn’t understand that, and she doubted that he ever could.

Despite her endless worries, her passing was near and unavoidable. There was nothing she could personally do for Mark. Scarily enough, she wasn’t sure if Mark had even come to terms with it himself, instead choosing to live in a fantasy where they would all be together for the rest of time.

“At least promise me this,” she said, a knot forming in her throat as she curled her hand into a fist on Nolan’s chest. “Promise me that you’ll take care of Mark when I’m gone. This is the only thing I’ll ever ask from you. He- He needs this. He needs human connection. You know how spoiled that boy is, but I guess we are to blame for that.” A heartbroken smile twitched on her lips, lowering her head in shame.

“Please. Please tell me you’ll look after him.”

Despite hating the fact that she had to resort to begging Nolan for his help, she was not above laying down her pride to do what was necessary for her son. For a few tense moments, her request was met with absolute silence.

“And leave all the heavy lifting to me?” Nolan said with a touch of foreboding mirth in his voice. “I’m no good without you by my side.”

Debbie gritted her teeth, snapping her head up with fire in her eyes. He joked as if they were merely fooling around, as if Mark’s sanity was not wholly dependent on them. Was he trying to deflect from acknowledging the situation? No, that didn’t seem like something Nolan would do, but then why did he refuse to give her this? Her life be damned, this was their son’s heart and soul on the line. Why did Nolan sound like she was being absurd? As if the prospect of her imminent death was all but an illusion, something to jest about?

She sucked in a breath, ready to retaliate when the familiar voice of her son interrupted her.

“There you are! I’ve been searching for you everywhere.” Mark flew by their side, placing a hand on her elbow. “Hey, dad. Oh, by the way, remember those concentrated attacks in Vienna? We pinpointed their location on the east side of the catacombs.”

“Good, very good. Get your mother back to the apartment, I’ll be waiting for you nearby.”

Before she had the time to even get a word in, Mark pulled her close and picked her up, flying them out of the facility and up to the sky.

Chapter Text

The following days were hell. Debbie woke up every single morning to the crushing feeling of guilt gnawing at her insides, for the dreaded mark of three weeks was getting closer and closer.

When Mark and Nolan were around, she plastered on her most well-crafted facade and hoped that the perpetual agitation was not evident on her frame. When she was left to the haunting emptiness of the apartment, Debbie paced, lost within the clutches of her mind.

The thought of never going through with the plan persisted at the front of her mind more often than not. What if she just- never showed up when the time arrived? She tried to convince herself that no one would know. No one but the whole world would know. If cowardice were to win over, Debbie could never bring herself to face Eve again. Nor Rex, or any of the fighters of the Resistance- or the rest of humanity, for that matter. Was she prepared to become a traitor to her own kind?

There was no way of ensuring either possibility. Not until the day of reckoning. Now, only time would tell.

“Mom, have you ever wondered how it feels to fly?”

The sudden question caught her off guard, snatching her consciousness back to the present. She slowed down in her stirring of the soup and glanced over at him, finding Mark closer than before, leaning against the kitchen counter to her right. “Well, it would be a lie if I said that I haven’t, but I’ve gotten to experience it plenty with you and your father. What brought this on?”

“I don’t know, I guess I was just thinking about it. But, like, what if you could fly? What if you could never get sick again, or- or be invulnerable?”

“If I could be like you , you mean?” Debbie quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head at Mark. Her son’s sheepish fidgeting confirmed her suspicions as she hummed in thought. “It all sounds amazing, doesn’t it? To be able to soar into the sky and out into space, traveling across the endless stars and planets. Now, if we’re talking hypothetically about whether it'd be possible for me to have the choice to acquire all of that and more...“ she trailed off, her lips curling into a smile as she turned her attention back down at the simmering pot. “I’d reject it.”

“What?” Mark pushed away from the counter, an odd hint of panic settling in his eyes. “But- why? You can’t be serious. Anybody would kill to have this, to be who we are.”

“Not at the expense of my humanity.” She countered bluntly and lifted the wooden spoon to her mouth, slightly bending over to blow at it before getting a taste. She scowled, feeling as if something was missing. “Mark, can you come over here for a moment? I feel like something is missing, but I’m not sure what exactly it-”

When Debbie looked up, her words withered on her tongue, her arm falling away. Mark’s expression was unreadable, hardened into something detached and numb, a complete void. For her son, someone who always wore his emotions on his sleeve, it was jarring to witness the dullness in his eyes, an uneasiness settling in her gut. While she struggled to find the right words, Mark beat her to it and slowly moved forward, taking one, two, three steps until he was barely standing a breath away. Despite the awful instinct to cower and pull back, Debbie planted her feet on the floor, forcing herself to remain in place. He reached out and curled his fingers around her wrist, guiding her hand towards him. He licked a dab of the soup, his eyes not once straying away from her.

“I think it needs a bit more salt.”

“Ah, yeah,” she stuttered, clearing her throat. Her eyes briefly flitted over to the glass jar of salt to her left. Mark’s hold on her lingered, brushing his thumb along the inner side of her wrist, fingernail ever so lightly grazing over the protruding veins. Debbie swallowed thickly, something inside her quivering and shivering in anticipation.

When Mark eventually drew back, she barely stifled the sigh of relief from exiting her lips. They ate in silence, for the first time finding herself lost as to what she was supposed to say. She had taken notice of Mark’s... erratic emotional state, as his mood swings only kept getting worse, but this was entirely unexpected. Debbie reckoned that she had offended him by so easily admitting that she would, essentially, rather die than accept the gift of being a Viltrumite, but it all remained a hypothetical scenario, and she didn’t think too much of it. Perhaps he had taken the total rejection worse than she imagined.

In his own twisted and skewed rationality, maybe he interpreted her words as her irrevocably forsaking him. It couldn’t be more than ten minutes later that Mark pushed his empty plate away and got up from his seat.

“I’ll come by later,” he said from somewhere to her right. She meant to turn, following Mark’s figure when suddenly, Mark was by her side, placing a soft kiss over her cheek and close to the corner of her mouth, lingering for two additional seconds, the brush of her son’s lips an act so intimate, so jarring that she couldn’t help but sit there stockstill from the shock, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

A moment later, she was alone. Debbie lifted her hand, lightly touching the spot where Mark’s lips met her cheek, a tingling sensation that reflected the sizzling tightness in her chest. A foreboding feeling murmured to her in a hushed, shameful tone to lock and seal away any hint of emotion brought forward, forever to remain as something nameless and uncharted.

When the two and a half weeks mark passed since her visit to Eve, Debbie could hardly sleep at night. Every single day, without fail, whenever she found the opportunity of being completely alone at the apartment, she would sneak out and check the designated area around the corner of the building. And every single day, without fail, Debbie found nothing.

The minutes blending into hours passed by painstakingly slow, dreading the following morning each time she went to bed empty-handed. Honestly, a part of her felt relief at every failed check-up. Perhaps it didn’t work out, she presumed. The plan was set for failure from the start. There were simply too many errors; in its preparation and, especially, in its execution. It was never meant to work.

Still, Debbie did not stop making her daily trips to survey the area. She owed that much to Eve and Rex, and the rest of humanity. If there was some sliver of hope still standing, who was she to deprive the world of it?

She should have anticipated that everything would come crashing down around her.

“Going out for your daily run?”

She froze at the familiar sound of Nolan’s voice behind her. Slowly, she turned, her expression disciplined into one of aloof ignorance as a desperate act to hide the fact that yes, she was actually planning on making her usual check-up and had been caught red-handed. It’s fine, there’s no reason to panic, she thought. They couldn’t possibly know what she was going out for since every ‘run’ she turned up empty-handed. Having learned from past mistakes, she was simply getting out to get some fresh air, but not straying too far from safe territory.

“Yup,” she said and turned away, putting on a facade of nonchalance as she finished tying up her hair in a usual bun. “Don’t tell me you want to join.”

“Walking is beneath me.”

She rolled her eyes because of course it was. Thinking back on it, Debbie had never actually seen him walk during all these months. Not that he needed to when he could fly, logically speaking, but Nolan would be the type to strictly stick to his principles lest his pride be wounded.

“If that’s all,” it came out more of an open-ended statement, but she hardly waited for a response, instead power-walking past Nolan and towards the front door.

She only managed four steps before a hand closed firmly around her bicep, holding her in place.

“Who said you were allowed to leave?” Nolan asked rhetorically with mild amusement as she struggled once in a futile attempt to jerk her arm out of his hold. “Mark’s going to be here any minute now.”

“Well, you two have fun then, now let me go-”

Nolan’s fingers tightened, fingers digging painfully into her skin, certain to leave marks behind. “No. You’ll want to be here for this.”

She tried to conceal the rising trepidation with exaggerated irritation by throwing a glare up at him. “What could possibly be so important that it cannot wait?”

“Your involvement with the Resistance to murder us.”

She only had a split second of blissful confusion before she twisted, her eyes darting towards the clunk of something heavy and metallic dropping on the floor. And there it was, only a few feet away from her, the very reason she had been going out all these days. Mark stood above the pathetic excuse of a duffel bag, the zipper opened wide as the two nullifying collars tumbled to the floor in plain sight. There was an incensed storm raging in her son’s eyes, hurt and broken, his own mother’s betrayal flaying at his damaged soul.

A horrid dread gnawed at her insides, its razor-sharp claws mauling her vocal cords until there was nothing left. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. They knew.

“Why?” Mark croaked miserably, eyes flooding with tears. “After everything we’ve done for you, after everything we’ve given you, how could you even think of doing this, m-mom? Is this all we ever meant to you?”

It felt as if she was drowning, as if the air was leaving her lungs. She felt like she was dying. Mark was brought to a state of ruin, and it was her fault entirely.

“Mark, honey, I- I could never do that to you, you know this. This is only-”

“Don’t lie to me!” He snapped, his voice rumbling and wretched, reaching his limit as the tears finally broke free, staining his cheeks. “Did they promise you a peaceful resolution? That they’d only strip us of our powers and throw us into a cell to never see the light of day again? No. Instead, they will make a spectacle out of our deaths, rejoice in our public humiliation and execution. You don’t think they’ll come for you after we’re gone? Humanity is no longer a place for you to call home, mom.”

“Why do you refuse to see the truth? Why do you refuse us?”

She vehemently shook her head, the back of her eyes beginning to sting with her own building tears. When Nolan finally relinquished his hold on her, she flung herself towards her son, her legs caving under the brutality of the emotions that hailed inside her heart. Mark was upon her within a blink, his strong arms slithering around her waist as they gently kneeled onto the floor.

“Come away with me.” She whispered and lifted her hands to delicately cradle her son’s face, stroking and threading her fingers through his hair. “All three of us can leave Earth and build a new life far away from here. We can leave everything else behind while we still can, please.”

Unfortunately, whether she liked it or not, Mark was right. There was nothing left for her here. If not for Nolan and Mark, she would not be here. Perhaps Eve still held some form of affection towards her, but she was naive if she thought she would ever put Debbie above the Resistance and its cause. Her broken family was all that remained. Without them, she was nothing.

The galaxy was a vast, infinite place of opportunities. It was not so impossible to find another habitable planet and start a life there. This, the three of them together; this was all she ever needed. She could only hope that it would be enough for them, too.

“Just- think about it, okay?  It’s not too late to-” Debbie glanced up at Nolan, trying to gauge his reaction to her offer, but the words died on her mouth when the world around them seemed to grow dark in an instant, a shadow blanketing the entire apartment. She looked outside the windows in sheer confusion, impossible for it to be a power outage since it was the middle of the day.

What she saw caused her heart to plummet to her gut, her face going slack from the horrific shock that consumed her. A colossal starship soared in the sky, eclipsing the sun’s radiance. Behind it, a hundred more followed in suit, significantly smaller in size, infecting the troposphere. They were too far away to properly distinguish them, but when she saw the human-shaped silhouettes hovering by the spacecrafts, she knew. She knew it was over.

“No,” she rasped, a single tear rolling down her left cheek.

“See? Our patience paid off. You won’t have any reason to hide or be afraid anymore. It’s all finally over, mom.” Mark pressed up against her, his hands sliding up her back. He buried his face against the juncture of her neck, nuzzling and inhaling deeply, breathing in her scent. “We can finally have the life we were destined to.”

There was a perverse intimacy in the way his hands found comfort on her body, his lips burning a trail over the side of her neck. All of the strength and resolve she had were drained in an instant, her body sagging in her son’s embrace. She glanced over Mark’s shoulder to her husband’s eyes, finding nothing but a dark and searing desire gleaming in his eyes, enraptured by the sight of them, an animalistic hunger of such possessive nature that flooded her very being with paralyzing fear and, worst of all, vile thrill.

She knew, then, that not even the end of time could take her from them. For her, in a selfish act of sacrilege, they would fool even death.