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Mark came home from the hospital two weeks after the incident in Chicago.
He still had a cast or two, and his face still looked a bit like a balloon, bandages and band-aids littering it. He’d lost a few teeth, but they’d put in replacements, almost the same as the originals. At first, he’d thought they could just put them back in, but finding his teeth in the aftermath had been a total pain in the ass, not to mention how some got cracked off the roots. At least his airways were clear. He’d worried about that when recovering, considering his nose almost hit one of his cheeks until they set it back. Maybe Cecil snuck some plastic surgery in when he was out.
Frankly, it had been a miracle that his recovery only took a few weeks. He’d been fully prepared to stay in the hospital at the GDA for months, but his healing factor took care of a lot of the damage, and even more so, they’d gotten him a new experimental medicine to speed up the process.
When he’d heard how they got it though, he nearly landed himself in a cell for a few months instead. Cecil hadn’t scolded him too badly, to his credit. He definitely called Mark a few rather harsh names, but didn’t choose to punish him.
He stood there, IV pole clutched in his hands, eyes wide and teeth clenched. The few nurses had already fled the room. Remains of a shattered bottle littered the floor, the contents spilled and made a mess. So fucking what. He didn’t want it. He wouldn’t use it. How the fuck could they do this to him?! He threw the pole into the wall, sliding through like it was made of tissue. Impaled, standing stock straight, the wheels rolling for a moment before stopping.
“...Well. That’s the second time this week my balls have been in my throat.” Cecil stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “You wanna tell me why you’re throwing a tantrum, or do you just want to keep throwing one?”
“What the actual fuck ?!” He shouted, kicking at the bed’s end. Even with his strength diminished, it went rolling away, nearly hitting the wall across from him. “You better start explaining, now, or I swear I’ll–”
“Easy, Mark. That’s why I’m here. I told them not to mention it, but like you can trust nurses not to gossip.” Cecil sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You want explanations, and I’m giving them, but you need to calm down. You’re at 140.”
Mark’s eyes darted to the heart monitor he was still hooked up to. Sure as shit, his blood pressure had gone up to 140 over 80. Not good. He took a second, trying to breathe. With a shaking hand, he dragged the hospital bed closer, taking a seat on the end of it. Cecil took that as his cue to pull up a chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he sat.
After a few moments of Mark reining himself in, Cecil spoke. “Your father offered it up himself. We ran the battery on the samples he provided–”
“I want to know why he’s here , Cecil.”
“...It’s better if your mother tells you that.” He tried, but Mark shook his head.
“I want to hear it from you. Please.”
Cecil sighed, and after a few moments, he nodded. “Alright. Your father returned to earth the night after the incident. I didn’t notice it since we were working to preserve your life. Your mother did, however, notice him since he came back to the house. I had a few of Nolan’s weaknesses noted down, and one I noticed was that his ears seemed to be the source of his flight. So I created something that could destabilize them and make him incapable of flight while his inner ears healed. Originally it was going to kill him, but Debbie told me to make it non-lethal.” Mark’s eyes went wide, but Cecil continued. “Your mother incapacitated him and kept him captive until he arrived. I don’t know what she did, but he’s as docile as a lamb.”
“There’s no way.”
“I know. But he’s submitted to all of our tests and experiments, and he offers up blood when we need it. His blood helped us synthesize a drug he has little knowledge of from Viltrum, which speeds up the healing process in your bodies. We gave you a small dose, since you’re part human, but I mean… look at yourself.” Cecil offered him a mirror from one of the drawers, and Mark took a look.
His face, which had been purpled and reddened still, covered in deep bruises and swollen patches, now started to turn back to normal. Purple faded into greens and yellows of less serious bruises. Red swelling began to go down, his vision growing clearer as the bumps receded away from his eyes.
“...Damn.”
“I know. We’re trying to see if it’s possible to use on other people, but we’re keeping it at low doses right now. There’s probably drawbacks, but…”
“...I can’t see him right now.” He started, and Cecil gave a nod.
“I know. I understand. He had a feeling you wouldn’t, which is why I told the damn nurses to keep quiet about it and tell you it was something new the GDA made. Not that it came from your father.” He sighed, leaning back on his chair. “I’ll ask your mother to come in and talk to you. Try not to be too mad at her, champ.”
“Champ?”
“Well, considering you survived all of that… nevermind. I’ll see you later, Mark.”
With that, he walked out, and Debbie hurried in, her face pale and her hands shaking.
He didn’t know why his mom had been so scared. Maybe after dealing with his father, she had a new sense of fear for him. Or maybe she was more afraid that he’d be angry about his dad’s return.
But now, coming home, it seemed like her fears had been something entirely different.
Because for the first time in Mark’s life, his dad was gardening , and his mom was pacing around the living room like he’d started breaking dishes instead. From the sliding door, he could see Nolan kneeling on the ground, with an array of tools by his side, and a good chunk of flowers in those plastic containers. His entire forearms were covered in dirt, and he seemed to be enjoying the clear skies outside. For once in his life, he looked… relaxed. His dad, despite all his years of book writing, comfortable shirts, and delicate table-setting, had never really looked relaxed. Always held his shoulders up a bit, pulled in his gut like he expected someone to punch him in the next minute.
Meanwhile, Debbie had paced around the living room so many times already that he was sure she’d made a dent in the carpet. Since Cecil dropped him off, he wondered what had to be going on at home if his mom couldn’t get him. But she was pacing over… dad gardening?
Admittedly, he could maybe be scheming to take over the planet with some weird… carnivorous plant army, but he was pretty sure he saw carnations out there, not venus fly traps.
“Mom, are you alright?” He spoke up, and Debbie stopped dead in her tracks. Maybe she hadn’t expected him to be home yet.
“I… yes, I am. Sorry, honey, just… a lot on my mind.” She rubbed at the side of her head, looking out the sliding doors again. His father seemed to be planting a very vibrant group of hydrangeas. Fussy plants. Probably not leaving anytime soon since it took so long to care for them.
“Yeah? You know, I know I just got out of the hospital, but you…”
“It’s… probably not best to talk to you about it. It’s serious adult stuff–”
“If getting your ass kicked by your dad because you learned he’s part of a race that wants to conquer the entire galaxy and said no to joining him isn’t adult, then I really don’t know what is at this point.” He cut her off, shifting on his crutches.
“I… okay, fine. Good point.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I… did something to him that was… dangerous. For him. Twice. Cecil gave me a frequency transmitter that could disable him in case he came to attack me. I think he was just trying to stop me from contacting anyone, but at that moment I panicked. And then I… I tied him up in the basement and I hurt him.” She said the last part fast, all in one breath. “I’m… worried. He told me that I didn’t hurt him, but I know I did. I just…”
“Mom.” He put his crutches to the side for a moment, scooting over to her. Before she could speak again, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
“I’m sorry. I wish I was there. I could’ve helped you, I…”
“No, Mark, it’s… we’re married. He’s my husband. There’s some things you just can’t… help.” She sucked air in between her teeth, biting down on her lip. “Stuff between a couple, you know?”
He thought for a moment, before nodding. He took a step back. “Kinda. I’m not gonna listen to you two talking about sausages on the couch again, though.” He gave a small chuckle at that, and despite herself, Debbie laughed as well. Just a little bit.
“Good point. I just… Can you go talk to him? I know you don’t want to, I get it, but… I don’t know if he’s… okay. If I ask, he’s just going to tell me everything’s fine, everything’s good, I don’t mind that they’re putting needles and brain leads on me every day, don’t these new begonias look lovely…” Debbie huffed, eyes flicking to the floor. “He’s practically nesting. It’s not like him.”
“I’ll ask.” He said, without even hesitating. Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “It’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m not as… mad at him anymore. I mean, I’m still mad, but like… Not mad enough to attack him.” He reached back, grabbing his crutches. And with that, he hobbled to the sliding door, pulling it open.
Out in the backyard, he could feel the concrete of the patio beneath his feet. In the late summer mid-day, the bugs were buzzing around the yard, the heat from the sun bearing down on him with full force. Heat always peaked in August, not July. He knew that well enough. Across the yard, his father was digging a hole in a flowerbed for what looked like some gerbera daisies, their varied warm colors bright against the brown soil. He stepped across the grass, rustling as he managed to walk over.
If his father heard him, he didn’t react. Instead, he only turned around when Mark tapped on his shoulder.
“Hey, son.” God, it made his heart squeeze. Same tone always got from his dad. Every single time. “Doing alright on those?”
A breeze passed by, ruffling their hair and nearly sending Nolan’s hat flying. “...Yeah. It could be worse. I heard you helped them make that drug for me.”
His dad hissed, eyes pointedly shifting away. “Yes, I did. I wish I’d paid more attention but Viltrumites have such a strong healing factor that I hadn’t used it in a while. Rognarrs… we used them for those. Those things could rip us apart.”
“I see.” He looked around, and his dad stood up.
“One second. Let’s go sit in the chairs, it’s about time I took a break.” He pulled his hat off, using it to wipe the back of his neck. “Don’t worry about the dirt, I know how to clean ‘em off.”
Without complaining, Mark followed his dad over to the yard chairs. He took a seat, and took a closer look at Nolan’s clothes. Rough overalls, like he’d been using them pretty heavily. An outdoors shirt, with the little flap on the back and sleeves that could be rolled up with a button. A gardening hat, with the strap uncinched. Had he gone out and bought these, or did he always have them?
“So…”
“So.” Mark paused, then cleared his throat. “Mom’s worried about you.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s acting like I’ve been bodysnatched or something. I don’t think she realized just how much of an effect she had on me.” He leaned over, grabbing a water bottle from under the chair. “But how are you doing, Mark? Besides the whole…” He gestured vaguely with his hand.
“...Better. Mentally and physically. My face doesn’t look like it got tenderized anymore, so that’s a plus.” He sighed, leaning back and looking up at the sky for a minute. “And… I’m not as mad at you anymore.”
“You should be mad at me.” He said, after taking a few gulps of water. “What I did wasn’t right. Well, okay, that’s an understatement. I did something that you can’t– Shouldn’t forgive. But when you’re told your entire life that this is your mission, and you need to fulfill it… well, you get the picture.”
“I know. You told me about it.” He rested his palms on his jeans, wiping away the sweat. “Whole ‘this is what you were born for’ stuff.”
“Well, I think I was wrong.” He started, and Mark felt his breath catch in his throat. Oh. So that’s what was freaking his mom out. “This place… it’s more than everything I’ve experienced in my life. I told you this would be just… a blip in my lifetime. You’d see everyone around you die. But I… I forgot how important that would be. To have those people. To have experienced it. It meant nothing to me because I felt like I was just doing my job, but…” He trailed off, before a small smile pushed up his mustache.
“...Debbie’s life might be eons shorter than mine, but when that day comes, one day, life is going to be as slow as molasses. I’m going to live every single day with her, and I’m not going to be who I am- who I was. She’s not a pet. I’m sorry I called your mom a pet. She’s my wife . And I wouldn’t trade the world for her.”
For a few moments, they sat there. A new wind chime jingled from over by the sliding door. Birds called out in the summer humidity, all kinds of insects buzzing, floating over the grass or around the bird pond. Had he made that himself? He didn’t know his dad for creating things. Books, yes, but handcrafts? Despite being a Viltrumite, he’d become decidedly lazy to the altar of Ikea and home goods stores.
“I’m starting to see why Mom thinks you got a lobotomy. What the heck happened while I was in the hospital that no one’s telling me about?!” He pushed his hair back, out of his face. For a beat, things went back to silence, before he started hearing a few cut-off chuckles.
And in a few seconds, his Dad was laughing. Full-on, covering his mouth, cackling.
“...Yeah, you’ve gone insane.”
“No, no, wait– Mark–” He raised his hand as Mark went to stand up, motioning for him to sit back. “Okay, okay. I’ll explain. Just… give me a second.” He kept laughing, until he finally got it out of his system. Nolan gave a few more wheezes, slumping back in his chair.
“Okay. So. I made the dumb mistake of trying to sneak back into the house to check on Mom. And she saw me. Obviously. So she ran off and I thought she was about to call Cecil to drop the sun on us, which would not be good because despite my severe emotional constipation, I do love her. And if she died I… well, I don’t know what I’d do. So I ran after her, she got me with that new frequency gun Cecil was cooking up behind my back, and she tied me up in the basement.”
Mark nodded along. So she’d established dominance. He really needed to give his Mom more credit. After all, she was right. It didn’t make either of them stronger just to be physically stronger or more intimidating. People would always find ways to be stronger than the average superpower.
“And… well, okay, I know we made a rule that I would stop talking about our… you know… with you. Because that’s weird. We’re your parents. So I’m going to be vague. She showed me that not only is she stronger than me, but she also understands me. More than I thought. Your mother is the kindest, most empathetic person in the world . And that broke me. Mark, I…” He stopped, and took a deep breath. “Mark. My life up until the time I’ve been with Debbie and you… it was meaningless. Empty. I thought I gave it meaning because I told myself I was fighting for a better cause. That I was making things better. That I was doing my duty. I wasn’t. I was just another idiot fooled by the Viltrumite Empire into thinking I was helping the cause. The cause was just imperialism. All we did was go from planet to planet, sucking them dry and dusted so we could keep lurching forward like some kind of hulking machine. That’s all we did. We ate everything up and spat it back out.”
He paused, and looked up at the sky. Sometimes, Mark thought he’d been looking past the clouds. Out into the stars of the universe. How many times did he look out there, wondering if he’d one day see all the same stars his dad had to remember out there by memory. But now he saw his Dad was looking right at them. Right at those fat, white clouds rolling across the sky.
“...That’s not life, Mark. And if you ever thought for a second my way was the right one, I was wrong. Life is… this. It’s putting plants into the ground that’ll one day die from something but while they’re here, they bloom. Life is… it’s when your Mom makes all that banchan and she adds extra rice to my bowl and makes fun of me for eating two bowls of it… Or it’s that pee-wee baseball game you had, where you hit the ball just right and came running at me, into my arms… And maybe I’m going to be considered crazy to my ‘people’, but that’s life to me now.”
They were silent for a few more moments, before Mark spoke up.
“...And you’re not just saying this to trick us? You mean it?”
“Mark, do you remember what we did after your first pee-wee game?”
He did. He remembered it clearly, even if it was at least over a decade ago by now. His dad, taking him to ice cream just like they did in the movies. Buying him a giant cone of chocolate with two big scoops. He couldn’t finish it, so his dad started eating it, giving Mark bits of it when he tried to eat more. He could still taste the bottom of that cone, crunchy and full of ice cream still. And his dad clapped him on the back, proud of him for ‘finishing’ it.
“...You took me out for ice cream.”
“That was the first time I realized what this was all about.” He gestured vaguely, as if to everything around them. “It’s not… it’s not about winning, or conquering, or fighting. It’s about… this.”
And as the breeze flew by, heralding the coming autumn in just a few months, Mark finally understood it.
They didn’t have baseball games on Viltrum. Or ice cream. Probably didn’t even have real rewards for achievements besides being given more responsibility. And sure, it was silly, stupid stuff. Just little pieces of a life that were created by humans to entertain themselves. But they meant something. For the briefest moments of joy and triumph. For his dad to understand the pride that came with being a father.
No one on Viltrumite dreamed of being a father. No one dreamed of family. Of bonds with each other. Solitary, like polar bears, hunting on their own, only fending for themselves.
But his Mom… changed that. In a matter of hours after his Dad spat the same spiel he’d probably spit to that another seventeen years he’d mentioned. Went from omnicidal maniac to househusband in a matter of days.
Like it or not, he had to admire his Mom’s gall. Crazy imperialist murderer to decent husband in a week flat.
“You have to treat her right from now on.” He didn’t expect to be saying that to his Dad of all people, but surprisingly, he nodded in agreement.
“Done.”
“And you can’t ever do something like that again. I mean, there’s exceptions, but no posturing if anyone else comes here, and no mass murder.”
“Deal.”
“And… I want a car for college.” He might’ve been pushing that last one, but it only seemed to push his Dad into hysterics, bawling with laughter as he burst into it.
Mark couldn’t help but laugh along, just a little bit. At least until his Dad managed to regain his composure.
“Sorry, sorry… your Mom… I told her I’d get you a car for college, and she got so pissed at me for a minute. She told me to take things more seriously.”
“Well, I know the GDA probably paid you out the ass when you were working as Omni-Man. How’s that going, by the way?”
“Decent. They’re talking about doing a long-term psychological study to see if they can find the secret trick to making Viltrumites non-hostile. I’m afraid that the answer is gonna just get chalked up to ‘good old fashioned Hallmark love story’.”
“I think you’re right on that one. No uh, gigantic medical abuse or potential actual lobotomies?”
“Absolutely not. I think Cecil knows I’d put him through a wall if he tried that on me, and while he might have installed a frequency emitter in my head, well, humans have hysterical strength. So do we. So no, the only mildly invasive thing is the frequency transmitter. And just a heads up, for you, he put one in you too. So keep that in mind.”
“HE WHAT?!” Mark nearly fell off his chair, but his Dad reached out, pulling him right back up.
“It’s his insurance, okay? I know, it’s going to feel highly invasive and frankly worse than him teleporting into your room, but keep in mind that he’s seen our… potential… up close and personal. I mean I even put down the Hail Mary. It’s called Hail Mary for a reason. Take a deep breath, okay?”
Mark could barely manage that. The idea of something in his head that Cecil put in there while he was knocked out cold from surgery, that he might have even used the surgery to do it… it made his stomach roil. And Cecil hadn’t even said a word.
“Look, Mark. I promise you, one day, we’re not even gonna need these. I’m… I’m not strong enough to stand up to the Empire on my own. But you… You have the potential to go far beyond me. One day, we’re going to put an end to it. Once and for all. And then we’ll make sure no one fears us again.”
“You mean it?”
“I mean it. I know you can do it, Mark. I’m asking a lot of you, but one day. I know it.”
Mark sighed, feeling the breeze against his face. He’d gotten his ass beaten six ways to Sunday, just by his Dad. And even his Dad admitted he wasn’t strong enough. But… he had gotten stronger. Maybe not enough to be invincible yet, but strong enough, at least, to get stronger.
“...I will. I promise.”
His Dad’s face broke into a warm smile, almost melancholy. Maybe in that moment, he knew all of the things Mark would endure in the future, and feared the ones he didn’t know about. Maybe he wanted, more than anything, to be the shield that protected him. But he knew Mark wouldn’t survive like that. And so, he reached out. Resting a hand on his son’s.
“Should we go assure your Mom we both haven’t been lobotomized?”
“Yeah. Let’s go do that.”
With that, Nolan helped his son up, making sure the crutches were as comfortable as they could be before they walked over to the sliding glass door. Nolan kicked off his boots as Mark went up the step, to keep any dirt from getting all over the carpet.
When he gave her that easy smile, the same as always, she nearly burst into tears. But despite himself he pulled her into a hug, his overalls still dusted with dirt. And of course, Debbie started protesting. She laughed, trying to bat him away even when he kept rubbing himself against her, getting her more and more covered in soil. And before Mark could escape, he got him by the back of his shirt, dragging him into one very dirty group hug. Seriously. He’d need to get him back for this, these were the first clean clothes he’d gotten to wear in weeks!
But in the end, Nolan released them both, and marched off to go wash up before dinner. He found himself in the master bath, staring at his face in the mirror.
Part of his undercut was still growing back, barely noticeable unless you knew what was under there. It’d been shaved when Cecil put him under during an experiment, and he’d woken up with the frequency emitter in his head.
“Easily removable, so consider that an incentive. You’re not under my thumb for life, but you’re going to be for a very good while until I don’t think I’m gonna shit bricks every time you turn around.”
Admittedly, he didn’t exactly find it comforting. But Cecil trusting him to keep living outside of captivity was more trust than Nolan probably deserved. Still. No one had ever put something in his head before. For all he knew, there was some kind of kill switch in there. But Cecil also wouldn’t destroy one of his assets willy-nilly, especially with more Viltrumites potentially on the way.
But god, it sucked. Just the idea in his head made him anxious. It could all be blown away in an instant.
And then he felt Debbie’s arms wrap around his waist, her cheek pressed to his back.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” He said back, not missing a beat.
“We’re going to get through this. I’m sorry I was distant.” She came around, undoing his overalls for him. They fell to the floor with a small thump. “I was still… processing all of this. And Mark was still in the hospital.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I was trying to process it too. I think doing things helps me more than just thinking about it.” He slipped his shirt off his shoulders, and turned to toss it into the hamper. “Thus, gardening. Everywhere. I’ll tone it down a bit.”
“No, keep gardening, it’s great.” He finished off undressing, and got into the shower as Debbie leaned against the wall.
“I will, then. But really, don’t feel bad about it. I know you’re having a hard time, and believe me, it’s not fun to be running on a treadmill for an hour or two to see how my vitals look. But I’ve gotta do it.”
“I’m still not okay with what Cecil–”
“I know. And I’m not either. But I’d prefer this over getting executed. It’d take them a while to find something to actually kill me.”
“...Nolan–”
“No, seriously. It would. And besides, you know Cecil. He’s not going to trash one of his biggest assets. If he was, he would’ve killed Sinclair and Darkwing II. So don’t get too worried about it.”
“I’m still gonna worry.” As he got out of the shower, she passed him a towel. “But… I’ll try not to let it affect me. You still want bulgogi for dinner?”
“Hell yeah I do.” He murmured, and when he pulled his towel from his head after drying his head, Debbie cracked up.
Her light laughter filled the bathroom, and for a moment, he saw her as she was just a year or two ago. Bright. Happy. Warm.