Awakening (2)

I find myself on the eve of my greatest rival. My age old arch-nemesis...History class.

Do you understand how hard it is to remember everything about this wacky, out-of-logic world? There's so many great men and women throughout history, plus the normal ones, that it's a genuine hassle trying to remember it all. I mean, did you know George Washington existed here, did everything he was known for on an ordinary Earth? But he also had the help of an alien symbiote when he fought the British?* Because I fucking didn't!

(*A/n - Just something I made up for shits and giggles. So not canon.)

So, even with memories of all my prior history classes - ones which I could remember or had been paying attention to, anyway - I still, more often than not, blurted out the wrong answer or just straight up didn't know it when asked?

And when I have the fate of thousands of people's lives resting on my shoulders, there was very little time I could actually spare for the subject. Or school in general. Which I was perfectly fine with, by the way. Still doesn't help me when I have the rest of my senior year left.

Leaning my head against my locker, I sighed. What I'd give to just go flying right now. I could go but I curbed the thought before it led to anything more. I'd gone two weeks without giving my parents any need to suspect my powers awakening and even if I was planning to tell them tonight, it'd be best to not have the conversation started by my principal calling home about me flunking class. Dad wouldn't care - why would he? - but mom certainly would.

She can be a real hard ass about certain things.

I guess a guy with powers like mine should at least try to be educated to a degree. Nearly cracked a smile thinking about a Viltrumite who couldn't do simple math before I realized just how badly it'd be if a simpleton had powers like mine.

Suppressing a shiver, I pulled away from the locker and unlocked it. Sorting through my books, taking some out of my bag and putting some in, I couldn't help but feel torn. Part of me wanted school to be over while another part wanted it to last a few hours more. Why? Because any time added would give me more time to prepare for the conversation I'd be having later.

I'm terrified. More of what comes after the conversation rather than the conversation itself. Guardians are gonna die, then I'm gonna force myself to get trained the Viltrumite way, mom's gonna feel like she's going crazy when dad starts acting differently...Fuck. It's just all so goddamn much to deal with. Almost too much to deal with. But, I can do it. I didn't fold under the pressure when I first realized what was gonna happen after the merger took place and I won't fold now.

Closing the locker, I slung my bag over my shoulder and turned only to stop an instant later. Amber Bennett. She wasn't what you'd call a petite woman, that's for sure. 5'8", curvy and beautiful--but in a kind of tomboy-ish way. Even despite her beauty, there was a reason I hadn't taken the chance to call her after Todd gave me her number a week ago.

Reason? I didn't want to.

Real reason? She's too high maintenance. But even that wasn't the real reason. Despite how some people viewed her, she was a compassionate and kind woman. A bit self-centered at times, sure, and she definitely showed a manipulative streak when she blackmailed Todd into being her number delivery boy...yet that wasn't enough of a reason to put me off. No. I just simply didn't have the time to live a double life between being a superpowered Alien half-breed and normal ol' Mark Grayson. Wouldn't be fair of me to entertain the idea and neither am I stupid enough to just say 'I have superpowers!' to her.

That's just asking for something to go horribly wrong. I don't need a 'Spider-Man saving MJ from Green Goblin' scene either. I could do without any extra stress on my plate, really. But I guess I underestimated Amber - she did seem like the type of gal to be a real go-getter.

"You think you might've forgotten something, Grayson?" she asked sarcastically but with a face like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She made a real show of looking like she was thinking before continuing, "Like phoning a girl who gave you her number?"

I grinned in response. Not gonna get with her but that's no reason to be an asshole, right? "Don't remember any girls giving me their number, unless you mean Todd...and he is very far from a girl, Bennett," I kept my grin up as I gave her the treatment she gave me. From the corners of her lips twitching, like she was holding back a smile, she seemed to like the wittiness. "Though I am curious, what pictures was he on about? Nudes? Dolled up with makeup and a dress? Compromising position with one of the jocks on the football team?" I listed off a few theories I'd had, "I'm just dying to know."

Amber tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear, looking up at me with dark eyes, "I might just tell you if you wine and dine me first, Grayson," she jokingly said but also not very jokingly at all. There was some truth to what she said.

Teenage hormones reared their ugly head and my mind was filled with conjured images of the two of us rutting like animals. It was almost too big an opportunity to miss. Almost. God, I wish I could but it'd just eat into time I really don't have a lot of. Well, it was a nice thought anyway. "Hold your horses, cowgirl," I raised a hand while still grinning but it felt stiff even to me, "Four years of highschool and this is the first time we've ever talked. Might want to get to know each other first, yeah?"

...Oddly enough she didn't seem appalled by the idea. If anything, she seemed to prefer it. Like I'd proven something to here. What the hell did I even do? Was I too soft with here? Too mature? Jesus Christ, somehow I feel like I'd rather be fighting my dad than doing this.

Whatever, women are unknowable and eldritch creatures that a mere man like me will never understand, yada, yada, yada.

"Alright," she simply said, now smiling, before she turned away and called over her shoulder, "You better make use of that phone number I gave you, Grayson."

What the fuck? Is this comic book logic happening right before my eyes? Or am I releasing some sort of weird alien pheromone? Lifting a hand to my face, I squeezed the bridge of my nose between two fingers hard enough to crush metal and closed my eyes at the same time. Women are unknowable and eldritch creatures that a mere man like me will never understand. Especially comic book/animated TV show women.

"Were you just talking to Amber Bennett?" I heard next to me and I had to suppress a groan.

The hits just keep on coming.

"Yep," I said, eyes still closed and fingers still trying futilely to crush my nose. Sighing, I dropped my hand and looked to the side to see Will, literally my only friend. Therefore he is my best friend. A pretty decent guy, all things said, even if he is pretty opinionated.

He was a average-ish guy at 5'9" and with a very slight frame. Light brown hair and steel-blue eyes on an average face. There wasn't really much else to comment on physically but personality-wise, well--"What were you talking about then? She come to thank her gallant knight who saved her from Todd? Did you get her phone number? Well?" he excitedly asked. I'll give him this; he tries his best as my wingman.

"First off, she kicked Todd in the nuts so she saved herself. Secondly, I've had her number for a week," I admitted much to Will's utter shock. "She came up to," I sighed and made air quotation marks, "'Hint' that I should text her. Then she refused to elaborate and left. It was genuinely surreal," I sighed again. Been doing that too much lately.

"Mark," Will started before holding his hands clasped in front of him like he was praying, "Please don't tell me you just give Amber the cold shoulder? That you haven't text a girl who willingly gave her number to you?"

I smirked in reply, "Okay," I said before turning and making my way to history class.

Will gave a strangled cry of frustration from behind me before he speed walked his way up beside me, "You know, Mark, if it weren't for the looks I see you giving Samantha Wilkins I'd think you were swinging for the same team as I am," he said matter of factly. I looked at him from the corner of my eye.

"I don't give any kind of looks to Samantha Wilkins, Will," I also said matter of factly despite it being a complete barefaced lie.

"Yeah right," he scoffed before staring off into the distance with a comical look of infatuation on his face, mocking me, "Oh Samantha, how I wish you'd look back at me with your pretty green eyes--That's exactly the type of look you have!" he dropped the over the top expression and pointed accusingly at me.

...All I'd have to do is pick him up and fly. Could drop him off in the Atlantic. No one would know.

Conspiratorial thoughts aside, I looked away from Will and suddenly found the end of the hallway to be extremely interesting, "Really don't know what you're talking about, Will."

Yeah, I look at her from time to time. So what? I have literal foreknowledge of some version of reality where we get together--we have a kid! We get married! Me! Samantha Eve Wilkins! Together! It's a mental clusterfuck, so excuse me if I sometimes find myself glancing at her in the cafeteria. Kinda creepy? Sure. Criminal? Absolutely fucking not. Though it does boggle the mind that she and me actually get together like that. Or at least a version of me does. Still, I can't help that a part of me wonders sometimes.

"Hey, it's okay, you've got a crush," he joked as he playfully hit my arm. I rolled with the hit a little as he continued to speak, "And from the way she keeps glancing back every now and then, she's obviously interested. Even if only a little. Especially after you went all Greek Adonis and became a giant."

My mind went a little frozen at that little tidbit, "She glances at me? Huh," I muttered before catching Will's smug look in the corner of my eye. Grunting, I sped up a little but he kept pace...somehow, "Yeah, alright, I have a crush on her. So what?"

Not like I had the time to explore it but again, it was nice to think about. Besides, she has a boyfriend. Even if he is a complete ass that cheats on her. Doesn't help that even before the merger I had a bit of a thing for her. The other part of me - Marc - also thought she was pretty cute too. Put it together and you get a crush. But in front of space Nazis, what good is a crush gonna do me? Not much. Not much at all.

Will shrugged, "No hate, man. Even with my zero interest in girls, I can see why you'd like her. She's gorgeous, popular and seems like a good person. I'm just saying though - you can't keep staring at her from a distance. How about trying to talk to her?"

I grunted with a shrug, not committing to anything. I'd get a chance to talk to her soon enough when the Flaxans invade. Not looking forward to that one bit. The invasion, I mean. One of my hands gave a minute shake at the thought. Not out of fear for myself but because of the death the Flaxans would cause. I'd need to have a game plan before they arrived, to limit the civilian casualties as much as possible.

Seeing me so deep in thought, Will was quiet for the rest of the walk to class.

. . .

"I got my powers," I said suddenly, freezing movement at the table as mom was handing dad a bowl of salad. Mom put the salad down suddenly and reached across the table with an ear-to-ear smile.

"That's wonderful, Mark. Isn't it, Nolan?" she turned to dad who was just looking at me, icy-blue eyes filled with a seriousness I'd only ever seen in videos of him against particularly tough villains. "Nolan?" she questioned, turning to see his serious face.

He didn't turn to look at mom, continuing to stare at me for a few more uncomfortable seconds, "Are you sure?"

Instead of answering, I brought my fork to eye level and bent it into a right angle in clear view of everyone before putting on a practiced smile, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure, dad."

His eyes looked resigned for an instant before a dull thud was heard under the table and it seemed to jolt him into action as he smiled, thick mustache curving with the movement of his lips, "That's wonderful, son. Just wonderful." Everything paused at the table for a few more seconds before dad broke the silence with a cough, "Ahem, well, how about tomorrow I make some time and the two of us can go out and I'll teach you about your powers?"

"That'd be great, dad," I smiled to hide the almost shaky quality to my voice. Maybe it came off as emotion to my parents but to me...I knew why it was shaky. Tomorrow I'd probably get my ass beat.

That night when I went to sleep, I had a nightmare of my dad beating me to death.

. . .

"You're awfully good at flying for a first timer, son," dad said next to me as we shot across the sky and above the clouds, "You didn't awaken your powers yesterday, did you?" he asked simply but his tone told me he wasn't asking for clarification. Just confirmation.

I let out a nervous laugh, "Well, y-yeah," I said before looking to him, "I wanted it to be a surprise. Didn't want to disappoint you when we first went flying together." I answered sincerely. Ever since I was a kid and dad told me I'd awaken superpowers because of my heritage...I'd dreamed about flying through the sky with him. The last thing I'd wanted to do was disappoint him. Now I had the added incentive of wanting to show off so he'd give me the best training he could.

Because what better incentive is there than 'Get stronger otherwise you're dad is gonna go ape shit and kill a bunch of people'?

He gave a fatherly smile that I almost let myself believe in, his deep voice matched with his comforting tone almost had me tearing up as he said, "You could never disappoint me, Mark. Never."

I almost cracked at that point. Almost blurted out a roaring question of why he'd pick Viltrum over me and mom. Almost yelled out that he was a liar. But I didn't. I just forced a smile and turned away, "Thanks dad."

"No problem, son," he said before pointing to a field a few miles away from us, "Let's land down there, for now."

I nodded and followed after him as best I could as he rocketed ahead. I could tell he was hardly trying and that was the only reason I could keep within a few hundred meters of him despite going as fast as I could. I had a lot of progress to make and it all started here. We slowly came down onto the green meadow, both of us setting down with ease and dad gave me a look, "How long have you had your powers, Mark?"

I stopped looking around and looked to him instead, meeting his gaze, "Two weeks," I answered simply, "It took me that long to get as okay at flying as I am. Like I said I didn't wanna...you know," I shrugged. Dad stepped up to me and put a hand on my shoulder, nearly causing me to flinch. That goddamn nightmare was still fucking with me, even now.

"You should've told me, Mark," he sternly said, meeting my gaze head-on because of our similar heights now. Then his stern face soften into a smile, "But you've come a long way in such a short time for a new flier. I'm proud of you, son. I can only think of how far you'll go after I start teaching you," his smile took on a edge I'd have missed if I didn't know who he really was. But I did, so I saw it.

And it sent cold shivers down my spine.

"So," I decided to change the subject a little, "What do we start with? Ever since I got my powers, I've been dying to burn off some energy," I said with truth in my words. Ever since I'd awakened them, I'd felt a burning in my chest, a pile of energy that just wouldn't get gone no matter what I did.

I was hoping I could burn it off by training because it was getting annoying constantly feeling like I was being powered by a nuclear reactor. Trying to fall asleep was borderline infuriating at times.

Dad just smiled, "Ah, I was the same when I first got my powers. Feels like a star burning in your chest, doesn't it?" he questioned to which I gave an aggrieved nod. "There's only one way newly awakened Viltrumite's can burn off that energy while they get used to suddenly having it," he said and he smiled before continuing, "Combat training."

Despite some fear crawling into my system, the majority of what I felt was actually excitement. It was weird, like my blood was beginning to heat up at the thought of finally testing just how strong I was against another combatant.

No words were needed. Dad floated back a few feet and lifted a hand, making a 'come on' gesture with his raised hand and I decided not to make him wait too long.

I burst forth with as much power and speed as I could, controlling my flight as I leveraged my feet against the air. I reached his position within less than a second. Less than a tenth of a second. My fist reared back and I built the force upward, just like how I'd been taught in my MMA classes. Feet, legs, hips, waist and core, shoulders and then arm. All leading into my fist which rocketed through the air so fast it left the air crackling and popping.

But just as soon as it reached him, he casually brought up a hand and caught the punch. The shockwave sent our hair wiggling and flapping all over the place but he seemed completely unaffected by the hit. Meanwhile my hand felt like it'd bunch a goddamn mountain.

"A good attempt, Mark. Very good, even," dad's voice was light, maybe even proud as he spoke. "I see you've already figured out how to leverage yourself against the air around you as well. Built the force up well enough too..." he trailed off, his icy-blue eyes meeting my golden-brown ones before his smile turned halfway frigid, "But 'well enough' isn't good enough for a Viltrumite. Try it a little more like this!"

Before I could even react, he'd hit me square in the chest. It felt like being hit by a truck and then when you get out of the hospital, the truck brings his friends along to beat on your again. My ribs screamed with pain, the air in my lungs was driven out of them and even my heart hurt. I was shot back into the ground, leaving a massive line of upturned grass and dirt as I went.

I couldn't breathe. My body wanted to but my diaphragm was being incredibly unwilling.

But I hadn't gone to full-contact MMA classes for nothing. I forced my stomach to extend outward, willing my diaphragm to reluctantly follow behind it. Air rushed into my lungs and instantly I began coughing yet I knew if I took any longer to get up, dad would fall back on the facade. The lie. The caring father act. That wasn't who I needed right now.

Forcing myself forward onto my knees, I forced another breath of air into my lungs and pushed myself off the ground.

Dad had followed me over, hovering above me in the sky, eyes looking down at my form. A test if I'd ever seen one. Part of me wanted to ask why he was being so serious, hitting so hard, but I squashed that part of me and made it shut up. I couldn't show weakness. Not now. Because I had two options.

A) Start crying and dad would stop the training. He'd apologize and I could accept it and we'd go back home to mom, have a family dinner and all would be forgotten. Or B) I could take the training like a man, push through the pain and the anger and the feelings of betrayal from a son who'd just had the air driven from his chest by a father he loved...and then prove myself as a person worthy of being trained.

There was only one clear option.

"T-that..." I stuttered and stumbled over my words, diaphragm still spasming and chest still on fire, but I looked up at dad with a fire in my eyes and a cocky grin on my face that I was all too quickly realizing wasn't faked, "That all you can do, old man?" I asked.

Then I charged at him after one last forceful breath. He smiled and I smiled too but we both smiled for different reasons.