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“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—”
Mark grit his teeth a little, suppressing an eye-roll at Rex’s shrieked curses as he zoomed past. He might have considered stopping to help him—but he was kind of busy.
“You’ll never catch me, Invincible!”
Mark set his eyes back on the...interesting...figure he was chasing. He was decked out in dull grey spandex, two enormous, feathered wings propelling him forward through the air. A stark white stripe cut through the black of his balaclava’s throat, catching Mark’s eye as the guy risked glancing back at him.
“Wanna bet on that?” Mark couldn’t help but snark as he easily caught up to the feathered villain. Upon further inspection, he was pretty sure the wings were some sort fluff-covered tech, not organic.
The guy let out an honest-to-God squawk, reeling back and lobbing one of the cheesy egg-shaped grenades that he had been flinging at civilians mere moments before. Mark let it hit his body rather than the building behind him, only grimacing a little at the explosive impact.
“So, your gimmick is what? Being a duck?” he asked conversationally as he tackled the guy out of the air, the two crashing to the street below.
The villain struggled in his grip, attempting to escape with an angry hiss. Mark frowned a bit, thinking that Duck Guy was breaking character. Honestly, that sound gave off way more of a cat vibe.
“It’s not supposed to be a duck, you idiot! I’m the Grey Goose!” he howled.
The corners of Invincible’s lips turned up. “What, you mean like the—”
“—Like the vodka, yes,” Grey Goose grumbled, slumping in his grip. “I knew I should have used a different adjective.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to think of a new one in your cell,” Mark replied brightly, before knocking him out cold with a carefully measured punch.
He left the Goose in the street, turning back to the fight behind him. The Guardians were still engaged in their own fights, steadily taking down the B-rated supervillain league of the week.
Mark’s eyes honed in on a bright, familiar shade of pink. He couldn’t lie and say his attention didn’t get a little fixed on its source.
Eve was facing down against...Lioness? Was that her name? Whatever. It didn’t matter. He was a bit distracted by the intense look in her eyes as she unleashed a barrage of broken bricks on her adversary.
Did she normally look that...vibrant? (Yeah, that seemed like an appropriate enough word.) The strange things happening to his insides suggested not.
Mark quickly broke himself out of his momentary trance, floating up and shooting back towards them.
He only made it about halfway before a burst of invisible energy knocked him off course. Invincible swayed unsteadily in the air, twisting to right himself as he fixed his lenses on the source of the blast.
There was a suited, middle-age man standing on the street below, eyes fixed on him. He smiled as Mark locked eyes with him.
Creepy. But, on the plus side, he looked pretty defenseless. He hadn’t even bothered with an actual costume. Mark shot down toward him, ready to take him out, when he was stopped once again by an invisible force field.
“Shit,” Mark cursed softly, pushing harder against it as he glared at the guy—
—Only for it to suddenly disappear.
Mark had gotten significantly better at controlling his powers in the past few months. He had worked steadily at controlling his flight, building on the base that his father had given him.
Half of that improvement seemed to go out the window as he found himself colliding face first into the pavement.
“Urgh,” he complained, pressing quickly back up and facing the perpetrator with an angry scowl.
The man just continued to do his best Chesire Cat imitation in reply. Mark felt an uneasy shiver crawl down his spine. He opened his mouth—ready to ask what the hell this guy’s problem was—but was interrupted before he could speak.
“Not quite used to spreading those Viltrumite wings yet, eh?”
Mark froze. What?
“How did you...” he took a challenging step forward, half of him longing to just finish this guy, and the other half shrieking in concern at how he could possibly know that.
“I think you’ll find,” the man said with a spark of something malignant in his gaze, “That you’re not nearly as indestructible as you believe you are.”
Before Mark could snap that he had definitely never heard that one from a dime-a-dozen supervillain before, the guy melted away into nothing.
Mark blinked, immediately turning to scan his surroundings warily. His mind flashed to Isotop, and other teleporting enemies he had faced.
The street behind him was...empty. Completely empty.
His blood chilled. What the hell had just happened? There was no sign of life in any direction. It was like the psychokinetic guy had made everyone straight up vanish.
Mark glanced down at his hands, turning them over and making sure that he was still there.
“Eve? Guys?” he called into the eery silence. There was no answer.
Maybe he had been knocked unconscious? A quick pinch to his arm proved that it was unlikely. He’d never had a dream this realistic, anyway.
He was just about to float up into the air when a voice spoke out behind him.
“Mark.”
For the second time in the last moment, he froze, every thought instantly vanishing from his mind.
No.
It wasn’t possible.
The entire world seemed to shift in agonizingly slow motion as he turned, meeting the gaze of—
—His father.
It shouldn’t...It couldn’t be.
There should have been some warning, they would have detected him re-entering the solar system. Cecil had already done so when it had been a false alarm!
It didn’t matter. He was here.
Back for more. Back to finish the job.
Mark faced him fully, pulling back his shoulders and assuming the most confident posture he could. He willed his hands not to shake with every ounce of his being as they curled into fists at his sides. The churning feeling in his stomach was unavoidable, as was the sudden pounding of his heart—but maybe he could manage at holding back the images and emotions bursting forth.
So far, he wasn’t doing great at it.
He wasn’t sure what to say. There was no bold, heroic challenge to burst forth; no cocky smirk to goad his enemy with.
There were only still-open wounds, and a gaping tear where something important used to be.
Luckily, his father took it upon himself to fill the silence for him. He took a measured step forward, scarlet cape flowing slightly in the breeze as he stared at Mark.
“I see Cecil’s already had you step up to fill my place,” he said.
Mark furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to reply. It took a few seconds for him to finally grasp words.
“Someone had to,” he stated coldly, clenching his fists tighter.
He couldn’t quite bring himself to make the first move. It was probably less sentiment, and more self-preservation, he tried to silently tell himself.
Nolan paused at that, leveling a more scrutinizing gaze on him.
“You’ve changed.”
Mark let out an incredulous, somewhat choked scoff.
“Yeah, no shit,“ he said roughly. “You fucking—”
He cut himself off, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms.
He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t spit out the accusations; the hatred.
Maybe it was because there was still that little part of him holding on to the hope that his father still cared.
Maybe it was the knowledge that his father didn’t care.
He swallowed thickly, and narrowed his eyes a bit under his lenses.
Stay focused.
He had to protect the planet, and he couldn’t do that if he let his emotions get to him.
“Mark...” There was something strange flickering in his father’s gaze. “I never meant to take it that far.”
This has to be some unreasonably cruel strategy, Mark thought dazedly as he blinked. It seemed unnecessarily brutal, even for him. Part of him would have preferred the sneer he was bracing for.
“If you think I’ll believe that for a second, you’re wrong,” he bit out. “Not after you told me that all of...that was the beginning of my ‘real education.’ Not after you called mom a pet.”
Mark swore he imagined the slight twitch in those features as he recited his own words.
“I already know you don’t care,” he continued, not allowing himself to stop. “So whatever fucked up strategy you’re trying to use won’t work.” He raised his fists, preparing himself to attempt to meet the blow that would come at any second. “I haven’t changed my answer. I won’t let you try to enslave the planet.”
This was surely it. The part where he was rewarded with seeing his father’s true nature again. Mark set his jaw and waited, expecting those features to harden.
“I’m not here to fight.”
The words shouldn’t have knocked him off balance as much as they did.
Mark felt his brow furrow despite himself, then shifted, doing his best to shrug the words off.
“You left so you could go rally your genocidal forces,” Mark accused. “Not—”
“I haven’t returned to Viltrum. They don’t know.”
Mark stared. “Yeah? And how do I know there’s not a whole fleet waiting right up there?”
“They would have already attacked.” He took another slow step forward, making Mark shift again uneasily. Nolan uncrossed his arms after Mark’s disbelieving look, holding his hands out. “It’s just me, Mark. I’m alone.”
“Then...” Mark faltered, absurdly managing to feel stupid for not letting him get the words out earlier. “Why are you here?”
“Because.” Blue eyes shifted away, before meeting his own again. “I had to come back. To see you...and your mother.”
Mark instinctively pushed back the howling pain that reared its head at hearing him speak about her. It felt like he didn’t deserve to.
“In the grand scheme of things...Yes.”
“Well now I know you’re really lying,” he grit out quietly. “Because you’ve already shown just how little we mean to you.”
He hovered up a few feet in the air, tired of waiting and taking every emotional hit. He would either be able to win this, or he wouldn’t.
Best to get it over with.
Omni-Man didn’t move for a moment as he watched Invincible float up. Then, he took a deep breath, clenching his fists at his sides before loosening them and fixing an unrecognizable look on him.
It was something Mark was almost certain he had never seen on his father’s face. It looked...almost vulnerable.
“I did lie, Mark. I lied when I told you that you and your mother mean nothing to me.”
Mark stilled, eyes widening beneath his lenses.
Those words were familiar. They were the ones he had hated himself for wishing to hear, every moment, every second since the fight.
They were a beautiful, hopeless impossibility. And his father had just spoken them into existence.
He found his breaths were starting to come a bit too unevenly. His mind was a whirling mess of questions; of fear, and hurt—
—And hope.
Because as much as Mark wanted to hate him, as much as he resented every blow, every life-shattering word...
This was all that he wanted. The truth to be the lie.
“I know, dad,” he whispered. “But not as much as your mission matters.”
Nolan’s features hardened, letting out an impatient huff as he flew up to be on Mark’s level.
“I left you that day because I cared about you more than that,” he emphasized. “A loyal Viltrumite would have killed you in a heartbeat, but I...couldn’t.”
“Why?” Mark managed to ask, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. He could barely hear himself over the hammering of his heart in his ears.
“Because you’re my son. And I love you.”
His father extended a hand, slowly floating closer and reaching out to him as he spoke.
Mark stared at it, feeling the damp warmth of tears beginning to spill down his face.
Part of his mind was warning him not to take it, that all of this was some vicious trap to truly break him this time.
His father has already proven himself to be a cold-hearted killer. It wouldn’t be above him.
But...
Everything in him longed to reach out and take that hand. Take back his perfect life.
Take back his father.
Mark’s eyes flickered back to the uncharacteristically earnest light in his eyes, then back down to his hand.
Don’t do it, his logical half screamed.
That same hand had beaten him to within an inch of his life; had held him in place as the train was split in two and killed everyone.
Trust him, his other half urged.
He had barely been able to see, but Mark had caught the way his father looked down at his blood on his hands in anguish, shooting away and leaving him alive.
I’d still have you.
“I’m not here to try to conquer the Earth, or enslave humankind. I’m here to try to fix things,” Nolan said, staring into his soul with unshielded emotion.
Mark swallowed thickly, his own hand twitching at his side—
—Before reaching forward, and taking his father’s hand.
“He’s out of it. Like, really out of it.”
“No shit.”
Eve overheard the mutters, stepping through the small group of Guardians that surrounded Mark.
Nearby, Samson and Dupli-Kate were standing guard with a smattering of GDA agents over the man who had done this to Mark. Judging by the way Cecil was getting up in the guy’s face, eyes narrowed in response to the stranger’s smirk, the perpetrator wasn’t cooperating very well.
Rudy was pushing up one corner of his mask to scan Mark’s wide open eye with a small beam of green light. The others watched on with expressions ranging in amounts of concern. Of course, Rex was hogging up as much room as possible to gawk front and center.
“What happened?” Eve directed the question at Rudy, who had finished his scan, and was reviewing the readings with a slight frown.
“He’s in a sort of trance,” he replied, tapping on the screen of the device in his hand. “Given the high levels of brain activity...I would guess it is the result of some form of telepathic attack.” His eyes moved pointedly to the unnamed supervillain.
“Do we know who he is?” Eve asked, eyes narrowing.
“I overheard him saying he’s called ‘Seer,’” Monster Girl spoke from her left.
“Shitty name if you ask me,” Rex scoffed, elbowing past Rudy to kneel on Mark’s level. He leaned in close to his left ear.
“Rex—” Eve tried to snap, but it was too late.
“WAKE UP, ASSHOLE!” he shouted directly into Mark’s ear.
“That’s not going to do anything, unless you count potentially damaging his hearing,” Rudy scowled, making an attempt to drag Rex back. It wasn’t exactly easy; one of the downsides of being trapped in a teenage body.
“Worth a shot,” Rex shrugged, even as Shrinking Rae stepped in to help tug him away.
Eve rolled her eyes, sparing Mark one last worried look before making her way over to the active interrogation.
When the dust had cleared from their fight, it hadn’t taken very long to spot the unfamiliar figure looming over a frozen Invincible. Eve had been readying to knock the asshole unconscious when Cecil had teleported in, halting them in their tracks with one simple order: Stop.
At first, none of them had exactly been willing to follow that order. That was, until it was pointed out that no one knew what would happen inside Mark’s brain if they abruptly cut the cord on the apparent ‘connection.’
“I don’t give a fuck what kind of power trip you think you’re on,” Cecil was growling in the present moment. “I have ten guns ready to blow your head off the second I give the word. So if you don’t want your brains painting the street, I suggest you back off and let him go now.”
The man—‘Seer’—snickered, eyes gleaming with some perverse glee. “How do you know I won’t just control them, too? My powers extend far beyond simple telepathy. I could toss all of you aside in the blink of an eye.”
“Because I’m willing to bet that bullets are faster than whatever mind-reading bullshit you’re using. And clearly, you’re not able to do much of anything when you’re distracted with the one trick. I’ll take my chances.”
One of the Seer’s eyes twitched. “It’s so much fun, though,” he hissed. “Playing around in Invincible’s head. It’s mostly about letting the mind do the work for you, you know. All it takes is a bit of...coercion.”
Eve felt her stomach flip, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
“I’m helping him live out his own little fantasy crafted from his most deeply buried wishes...and fears. We haven’t quite gotten to that part, though. I’m letting him have his moment of joy first.”
Cecil’s eyes had widened slightly, before narrowing dangerously. He grabbed the guy by the lapels, lifting him straight up into the air. The GDA agents shifted nervously, unsure whether or not to risk pointing their weapons at both.
“Last warning.” he growled. “Get out of his head now, and we might let you live out the rest of your days in a cell.”
The guy scoffed.
“So fascinating, the bond between father and son.” he spat the words in Cecil’s face.
Eve lurched forward, unable to hold back, at the same time Cecil threw him to the floor. He unholstered his own gun, pressing the barrel between Seer’s eyes.
“I’ll pull the trigger myself if you don’t drop him in five seconds.”
That wicked smirk faltered, the villain’s eyes flicking over to Mark.
Eve tensed further, waiting. Small coils of pink danced at her fingertips, ready to interfere.
Cecil’s finger tightened slightly on the trigger.
“Fine,” Seer grit out. “But I already know there is no cell that can hold me. For the very guards will bow—”
“That’s what solitary’s for,” Cecil cut him off, knocking him unconscious with a brutally effective hit from his gun.
Mark couldn’t help but brace himself, waiting for his father to lash out even as he trusted him not with just his hand, but his very life.
It was...difficult, even making this simple contact. He was barely holding back telling tremors in his hand.
But it was important.
His dad closed his fingers around his in a firm but restrained grip, turning their wrists so that they were clasping in a sort of bracing handshake.
...A promise?
Mark looked up at him, and felt a small jolt of shock at the slight, almost sad smile his father was giving him. It was not something he had seen in a long time.
“We can still try to fix things,” his dad said gently, keeping their hands locked together. “I know it...won’t be easy.”
“We could still try,” Mark said softly, blinking back more tears.
He flinched back a little as his father shifted, evoking a brief change in his expression. Something like...guilt? He moved more slowly the next time, giving a careful tug to pull his son closer.
Mark let him this time. His throat and chest suddenly felt tight as he understood that his father was moving to hug him.
It felt like something out of one of his twisted nightmares, the ones which featured his calm demeanor shattering into blood-shot eyes and agonizing pain.
So far, that hadn’t happened.
Mark wasn’t sure he was anywhere near ready for this yet. There were still so many nearly unforgivable actions, so much unhealed pain.
But at the same time...this was what he wanted with every inch of his being.
He moved to accept the embrace, releasing his hand and burying his face into his father’s shoulder. It was too difficult to stop the quiet sob that bubbled up past his lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling so many conflicting emotions wash over him in a tidal wave.
His dad held him back just as tightly, the two staying still as they hovered above the ground.
“I’m sorry, Mark.” He felt the gentle rumble of his father’s voice in his chest, keeping his eyes tightly shut as his tears continued to flow steadily.
Mark took a ragged breath as he finally pulled back, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.
He stared at his father’s saddened expression, and wondered how any of this could be real.
“You came back.” Nolan’s frown deepened slightly at Mark’s shaky statement. “After all of that, you came back.”
“...I did.” he sounded a bit confused, but still solemn.
Mark swallowed again, his eyes shifting away.
The street below was still empty. There wasn’t a single sign of life. The Guardians had disappeared without a trace.
Something...wasn’t right.
Where were the drones, the futile response? The GDA surely knew his father was here, they would have detected him.
Either Cecil had decided that previous experience showed that a response would be useless, and Mark should be left alone to face his father...
Or...
Mark slowly drifted a bit further down the street, scanning one more time before looking back to his dad.
“Where...is everyone?” He couldn’t quite shake the feeling of unease crawling down his spine.
Nolan’s eyes moved up and down the street. “Hiding, most likely.”
“Even Cecil’s team?” Mark questioned, not bothering to point out that there should at least be some trace of civilians. “He was monitoring the solar system in case you came back. Shouldn’t there be drones to watch us at the very least?”
“Maybe he’s slacking off.” His dad shrugged, and Mark caught a little glimpse of the persona he had grown up around.
He wondered if it was real. Or was he just instinctively slipping back into a well-practiced act? There were so many questions, but for the moment, he needed to keep his focus on the glaring one.
“There should be...some people, though, or something,” he pointed out. “The Guardians were just here...”
It all seemed so...bizarre. So fake.
How had the Guardians disappeared in the few seconds he had taken to notice his father’s presence? They wouldn’t hide.
Mark quickly backtracked to the moments before they had vanished. He had been chasing the Grey Goose—who had also disappeared from where Mark had left him unconscious—and then there had been...that weird guy...
...Who had done something to him.
Mark looked back at his father, feeling his heart lurch.
“...Dad,” he said slowly, his heartbeat beginning to quicken. He drifted back to hover before him, staring at his father.
“Mark?” he acknowledged, staring back at him expectantly.
Tentatively, Mark reached out, laying his hand on his father’s shoulder. He was still solid under his hand. He looked up to meet his eyes under the lenses.
“What’s wrong?” Nolan asked, concern beginning to creep into his gaze.
“This isn’t right,” Mark whispered. “None of it...makes any sense...”
“I know it will take some time for us to adjust,” his father replied, seemingly oblivious to the meaning behind his words. One of his hands came up to firmly press on top of Mark’s. “But we’ll find a way. Together. To be...a family again.”
The words were so perfect. Too perfect.
Mark felt a low swoop of alarm in his stomach as the world around them suddenly seemed to shimmer.
“No more lies,” his father continued, unaware as Mark looked around wildly. Everything was distorting. “I promise that I will never hurt you—or your mother—that way again.”
“Dad,” Mark said desperately, his voice catching on the word. He could feel his father slipping away beneath his fingertips; his form becoming less solid. It was like trying to hold onto smoke.
In a last desperate effort, he moved forward, grabbing his face and staring at him with wide, hopeless eyes.
“Don’t leave me, please,” Mark gasped. “Not like this. Not again.”
Not when it had all been just another lie. A foolish dream.
He never received an answer.
The world and his father dissolved away, leaving Mark in nothing but a black abyss. Slowly, he let himself go limp, a broken, pathetic sob breaking past his lips as he stared into the dark. The void around him offered to swallow up his misery.
Then there was sound echoing around him, and he felt himself shifting, pulling away from the abyss.
And suddenly, he was opening his eyes.
He was already kneeling, strangely enough, but he found himself slumping down further like a puppet cut from its strings as he took ragged gulps of air.
He was vaguely aware of several voices around him, people’s forms filling his upper peripheral from where he was staring dazedly at the concrete.
Mark didn’t want to look up, or acknowledge the world around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the voices clamoring for his attention. All he could feel was the deep ache in his chest. His face was damp.
“—room!” A sharp voice barked above him, and he flinched a little, still unable to look up. A few seconds later, and a blurry shape knelt down next to him.
“Mark.” The voice was gentle, feminine. He thought he might recognize it. “Can you hear me? It’s Eve.”
It took another long moment before he finally summoned the courage to tear his unseeing eyes from the pavement to her face. Everything was a bit foggy, but he saw her blink, meeting and keeping his gaze steadily.
“You’re ok,” Eve reassured. “Deep breaths. Take your time.”
Mark did his best to follow her instructions, the group of people slowly moving out of his peripheral. He caught sight of Cecil giving them a pointed gesture, leaving him and Eve alone. Still, it wasn’t exactly hard to notice that there were several pairs of wary eyes still observing him as he tried to gather himself.
Mark caught Eve’s gaze again after a moment, beginning to feel his awareness and control return as his unsteady breaths subsided.
He was kneeling on the street, in the same spot he had landed when he had confronted the unknown villain. The Guardians of the Globe were grouped a distance away, listening to Cecil and doing a poor job of concealing their stares.
Mark blinked, white hot humiliation setting in as he realized the dampness on his face was from drying tears.
“Shit,” he cursed weakly, pushing up unsteadily to his feet. Eve matched the gesture from where she had crouched next to him, holding out a steadying hand, but refraining from touching him.
“Easy,” she said. “You just woke up from some asshole mind-controlling you.”
“It was—I was...Yeah. It wasn’t real.” Mark whispered. He rubbed away the lingering wetness on his face, attempting to pass the gesture off as merely running a hand over his face.
A soft sort of concern crept into Eve’s features. “Cecil wants to talk to you. I guess he’s worried you were...compromised. I told him to give us a minute.”
Mark swallowed, turning his lenses onto the agent. Cecil caught his gaze, finishing up whatever he was saying to the Guardians before heading their way.
He stopped in front of Mark, surveying him with his general unreadable expression. Eve glanced between them before moving back, going to convene with the Guardians.
“What did he do?” Cecil asked simply.
“Nothing.” Mark took a quiet breath. “I mean, he didn’t...try to control me, if that’s what you mean.”
“Were you interrogated? Did he try to dig any answers out of your memories?”
“I...don’t think so. He knew things, but I just...dreamed. He didn’t seem to want to do anything to me except that.” Mark’s eyes moved away.
Cecil observed him for a long beat. Then, he sighed. “We’ll run tests and figure out how his powers work. Anything he knows won’t leave the building. Call me if there’s any after effects.”
Mark blinked, but nodded. He hadn’t expected to be let off the hook that easily.
“Did he ever give a reason?” he blurted the question out quickly, feeling a curl of disgust in his stomach as he thought of what the villain might have witnessed in his mind.
“No, he didn’t.” Cecil frowned.
Mark glanced away, nodding stiffly after a moment.
“If we find out he had some other motive other than just helping the rest of them,” he gestured at the last remaining villains being removed from the scene, “I’ll let you know.” Cecil turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at him. “What I told you a few months ago, about our different medical resources...They’re always still available.”
Mark parted his lips slightly, unsure what to say. His mind flashed to the memory of lying in his hospital bed, listening numbly as he was told that the GDA offered confidential counseling. Was he really failing so miserably at appearing strong enough to warrant that reminder?
I guess falling to your knees sobbing in the middle of the street doesn’t exactly scream confidence. Mind control, or not.
Cecil didn’t wait for an answer, leaving without a further word. Mark watched him go, a vague sense of surprise brushing through his thoughts at the older man’s words. He was probably just trying to make sure his best assets were staying in shape.
Eve came over a moment later, standing to the side with uncharacteristic awkwardness “That go ok?”
“Yeah,” Mark answered quietly. “It went fine.”
“I’m...sorry. That that happened to you.”
“It’s fine...It was just in my head.” Mark stared distantly down the street. “None of it was real.”