Chapter Text
Debbie still couldn't figure out why Nolan hadn't just euthanized her along with their son. It would have been kinder than leaving her alive.
She muses, maybe Viltrumites value their pets more than their children, as she stares up at her bedroom's boring ceiling (popcorn styling few homeowners stick with it), but somehow doubts it. Nothing about beings who happily cull their own people scream, ‘happy pet parent’ to her.
Plus her? Nolan, an alien that must have seen countless magical and interesting creatures during his life, considered her a pet? Unless he counted sex as a fun trick, then him ‘sparing’ her made no sense.
Maybe he plans on getting quickies in between the genocides next time.
Or, maybe this was the Viltrumites equivalent of leaving a sick pet behind in the woods to die a lonely slow death.
She takes a swig from her bottle, peach. Interesting, I took Lincoln as more of a cherry sort of moonshine guy. Not that the flavor mattered to her. She just needed something to help her black out and not dream. Of course pissing off Cecil is just another little bonus.
Most nights (when her self appointed warden wasn't destroying her stash) she drank. Other nights it gave her justification to come home, (did you know popcorn ceilings became popular in the late 1950s) it also meant she hopefully - god willing - wouldn't be apart from her son any more. On good nights, the booze helped her sleep without crying. Today was a bad night.
She felt like shit, and probably looked like it too. Her hair? Messy. All because she couldn't remember where she threw her last hair tie the previous night - fucking Cecil. Even worse, her face was still caked with her work makeup and the mirror in her attached bathroom was still broken.
Who even has time these days to worry about what their newscaster looks like? She could imagine them, a snobbish family, sitting in just one of their many home movie theaters, laughing at her together. The husband, in her hazy mind, is super hot and nice and writes, is looking at his hot young Omega wife, rolling his eyes and pointing to Debbie's face on the screen, “I would never leave you after killing our son.” Then the stupid family would probably hug.
Fuck she was stupid.
She breathes out, then in, before taking another drink. Savoring the sweet burn as it scorches the inside of her throat. The poisoned numbness isn't strong enough tonight to dim the rage always simmering inside her, ready to escape and burn everyone who failed her son. Normally, she doesn't mind this anger, better than feeling the nothingness she normally feels. Rage makes her proactive. In fact, she sold her most expensive house once pissed…
Was it wrong she yearned for another feeling?
Fucking bitch, your son is dead and all you care about is yourself.
Sighing, she runs a finger along her bottle's rim. Better save the rest. Who knows when Mr. Abe will be able to make more. Maybe Eve can create a never ending bottle for me…. or maybe I'm better off asking her to just put me out of my misery. Of course, I would have to find her first.
She groans, turning her head to look at the fake window currently casting a blue hue over her room. It is set to its night mode currently, showing her a lovely nighttime view of Chicago (including a view of the two pent houses she had sold a divorced couple once) - before her ex destroyed it.
Bad thoughts, Debra, very bad. Now be a good government pet and think happy thoughts. In fact, when was the last time you masturbated? We can find an Alpha for you to spend your next heat with if you would like or I could….
Snorting at the intrusive memory she runs a hand over her face.
You drunkingly hate fuck an Alpha one time and suddenly he expects to be with you every heat. And they say Omegas are clingy.
In her defense it started after the first anniversary of Mark's death. The GDA had forced her to do a whole song and dance for the world (fireworks, there had actually been fireworks at her son's funeral) because apparently nothing is more inspiring than watching a fallen hero's mom try to hold back tears as she reads a preapproved speech over prerecorded patriotic background music.
The amount of donations we always get after you are on stage is insane. You want to help protect Earth? The world needs to keep seeing your beautiful face. Mark would be proud of you.
She rolls her eyes. Mark would have hated it.
To be fair, what mother wouldn't get wasted after her only son's funeral and then sleep with an Alpha who happened to be Cecil? Trauma looked different on everyone.
The same moms who aren't hate fucking their ex husband's boss to get back at him.
God, she is so fucked up. Reaching under her pillow she grabs her vibrater, staring at it, considering as she switches between modes. It sounds louder today, he must have charged it before he left.
Maybe I should pay some hot Alpha to be with me for my next heat. Make him jealous. Debbie frowns, the thought of dealing with another macho Alpha's ego makes her dryer than the GDA's work parties. The humming stops. Shoving the vibrator back under her pillow she stares back up at the unfashionable ceiling. (A bit of time scrapping and the whole room will open up!) She breathes, taking in her room's smells: alcohol, burning wood, chlorine, and leftover microwavable dinners. Feels like home.
Just end it already. You are only getting older.
She exhales. With her normal nightly routine ruined she is forced to turn to her only other hobby; plotting all of the ways she will torture Nolan once he comes back. Not murder - at least right away, she wants him to suffer first like she had - still is. She imagines ripping out her emptiness and sorrow only to turn and force it down his throat blocking his air. Better yet, she sees herself burying him under rocks and gravel so he can feel the same weight she carries daily. Then hell, maybe rip off his stupid dick too because why not?
A soft knock at her door interrupts her plotting. She prays it isn't Cecil, and that whoever it is hadn't been there a few minutes earlier.
Can't help save the world if you aren't in it, Debbie. What would Mark think if he saw you?
Oh, I don't know, probably, “Damn, I wish I wasn't dead.”
Images suddenly force their way to the front of her mind before she can stop them, like a movie stuck on play. Her son's face is spread across the mountain top like butter on toast. His body is used as a battering ram on people. (The knocking grows louder outside her door. But the door seems so far away.) The lucky people die quickly, the rest live seconds long enough to scream before their bodies turn liquid. Blood is on the floor. Blood is covering the windows like snow. (Her name is being called, she thinks.) There is a child bleeding out in front of their parents. Nearby, a mother's lifeless eyes look back at their screaming toddler's face. They are still strapped in their stroller, like a flower amongst corpses. Bits and pieces of people are everywhere like a spilled chilli. It's awful to think but she can't help but feel a dirty foul hope course through her body. It shames her but she is glad her son is still alive at that moment. Until he isn't, and her hope is replaced by a jealousy that shallows her whole like a storm. At least some of the families will have parts of their kin to lay to rest. The thought turns her stomach like sour milk. Why is she so selfish?
“Debbie.”
The voice grounds her, pulling her out of the trenches, she breathes.
In. Out. In. Out. Think happy thoughts Debbie. You're not the only one who lost someone. Stop being a selfish cunt.
A muffled voice speaks gently behind the door, “Our space antennas caught two objects moving towards Earth. Judging from the speed we think one of them could be…”
Debbie drains her bottle and shoves the evidence under her mattress. Putting on her government jacket - only worn by the most important people in the world she is told, over her plain yellow pajamas before slipping on crocs with no socks. Nearly out the door she stops, remembering her id. Not that anyone wouldn't know who she is by her face alone, fucking Cecil, grabing her strongest perfume, roses because Mark liked to stop and smell them on his way home from school, to hopefully cover her shame. Eyeing herself in the mirror, fuck I look like shit, she decides it is good enough. Grabbing a mint, she finally leaves her tomb.
The Immortal, like a good proper Alpha, doesn't outright judge her or ask questions when she comes out. No point when most of the GDA worked in pajamas or scraps of clothing anyway. Hard to care about looks when most of the world is on fire at any given time. Or dead - if they are lucky.
Yet, despite herself Debbie can't help but wonder what he sees as he gives her a once over. Sad mom or lonely Omega? She is pulled from her thoughts when she feels her dark hair being gently pushed behind her ear. She flushes - he hadn't done that in a while.
“Kate forbade me from giving you more moonshine this month,” a strong somber smell radiates off him, reminding her of freshly cut wood in the rain. Reaching up she squeezes his shoulder. They smile at each other before he turns to walk, “Better start going easy on what you have left. I might not always be able to give it to you.”
Debbie hums a non committal answer, too focused on trying to ignore the heat on the back of her neck, “How is my young warden anyway?”
He lets out a snort, “Pissed we haven't left Earth yet,” Debbie watches his eyes close briefly, “She's right to be, but-” he trails off frowning, “We have a duty to protect the people left on this planet.”
Debbie nods, despite not agreeing, any Omega would want to leave if they could. Nolan would have taken her and Mark if she asked.
Are you sure?
Debbie blinks, thankful she drank. She is starting to feel lighter, happier, as if she is walking on clouds. She opens her mouth to say something but is thankfully interrupted.
“Can't imagine the Viltrumites would stop at just conquering Earth.” Robot doesn't bother looking up from his work tablet as he joins them.
Monster Girl yawns, “Maybe…”
Another month and she will tower over me.
Monster Girl smirks, “The bastard realized he can't live without you.”
Debbie smiles through her headache, “He could have picked a more considerate time to let me kill him.”
“What time works best for an alcoholic?” Rex throws his arm around her shoulders and she is too tired and tipsy to fight the gremlin off. Despite his words, personality, and quirk of saying the worst things at any given moment, she can't help but like him. Which is strange because she is pretty sure Mark hated him.
She winks at the younger man, “Get me more of The Immortal's moonshine and I can pencil now in.”
Rex sighs and looks over his shoulder, “Robot, you need to test that shit. I swear I saw Donald using it as gasoline the other day.” Debbie hears the Beta behind them mumble they already tried.
The Immortal grins, “family recipe,” their eyes briefly meet, “my mother taught it to me.” The hallway fills with the smell of pine, his signature scent that only comes out when he is proud. Or, around his very pregnant wife.
“Weren't you born before we had food and safety laws?” Rae squeaks as she jumps from Rex’s shoulder, growing to the same height as Debbie.
Rex's other arm is quickly thrown around his girlfriend's shoulder, earning him a grin. It makes Debbie smile, happy that society was finally coming around to the same status relationships.
“Glad the Brady Bunch could join us, and Jesus Immortal stop giving Debbie your moonshine. I'm tired of being worried she is a fire risk.” Black Sampson frowns as he watches them enter the command room. (Way too small, with less furniture they could really open up the space and let it breathe.) Shapeshifter waves from behind him at the group.
Debbie shrugs as the group snickers. They all have their vices and having a dead son builds tough skin fast. Besides, Sampson was her favorite drinking buddy and she knew this was the Alpha's way of saying he was worried.
She smiles at Donald, “Is it Nolan? Wouldn't mind lighting myself on fire if it meant I could take him with me.”
Rex squeezes her shoulder before moving to join Donald, Shapeshifter, Sampson, and The Immortal over the console. Monster Girl as always puts her chin on Debbie's shoulder as they wait for shit to hit the fan. Rae winks at her before joining her boyfriend. Robot lingers out of sight.
Debbie takes a second to glance around their little war room. It is busy, people are walking back and forth between their limited computers, and the room is flooded with the scent of coffee, stress, and cigarettes. The bright lights are making her headache worse and she can't help but imagine ways to make the room better. (Bright colors, fun posters, things that really make a person say they love working here.)
Cecil ignores everyone as usual, too busy frowning down at his stupid tablet. At least until he startles her; meeting her eyes. It is only for a second but she swears she sees him inhale. His bright eyes look back down. His smell always reminds her of a wet dog; despite it meaning he is happy to see her.
Fuck I need to stop fucking him.
“Oh,” Donald pales down at his small screen, he taps something and suddenly the bigger screen in the middle of the room lights up. People quiet, leaving only the buzz from the lights above them. Debbie can only blink as she stares at the screen. It…wasn't Nolan. It was worst.
She holds her breath as she takes in the sight before her. A man and woman fly in what could only be Viltrumite clothing given the giant fucking V on their chests. Both look like they bench press elephants for breakfast. The screen even shows their muscles in perfect definition. She inches a bit closer, eyes narrowing.
Do they both have fucking eight packs?
Rex frowns, before schooling his face, “Guess they were tired of waiting for Nolan to finish us off.”
Robot taps his foot behind her, “Maybe they want to talk?”
Donald, ever the perfect Beta, tries to boost the morale by letting out a calming scent that overtakes the room. Lavender. “We knew this was a possibility. We have lasers locked in on their location ready to go.”
Of course Cecil ruins the mood, “More than half are still down from Nolan's last attack.”
Great. Perfect. Time for Invincimom to brighten morale before half the team abandons the planet.
Would that be so bad?
“They sent two because they weren't confident one could handle the job. Our lasers should be able to finish them off. Or, at least slow them down. We will kick their asses.” What the fuck is she even saying right now. She was the GDA's equivalent of Mr. Rogers, not a fighter.
Liar, Eve is still missing after Nolan's last attack. She digs into the skin of her arms to help her focus on keeping up her smile.
Cecil glances at The Immortal, who nods. “They will be making contact soon.” Her moonshine benefactor leaves without saying goodbye. He must be planning on meeting the duo first. The room darkens in his absence. Debbie feels sick as the scent of fear begins to creep in.
Her body feels like it is in auto pilot mode, “Nearest population?” Who the hell was she to act like she knew what to do? She barely got out of bed everyday.
Donald nods at her like she leads missions all the time, “Tokyo, but our branch out there is already herding citizens into shelters.”
Her fake smile is starting to hurt her face, “Perfect, there won't be any casualties.”
Liar, liar pants on fire.
Debbie bites her lip, Cecil makes brief eye contact, frowning at her. They both know those shelters aren't finished yet, and with little to no warning? Maybe the GDA saves a few thousands give or take. But she is Invincimom and has to always be positive otherwise the world's heroes might fall into despair and leave humanity to die.
She is just as bad as Cecil, “Good, I went there recently. Met a few of their heroes. Lots of speedsters.” Her mouth feels dry. Maybe she should ask for water?
“What about the smaller towns?” Monster Girl's smell starts turning sour so Debbie maneuvers herself to wrap an arm around the younger Omega's shoulder. For the first time in a while Debbie is glad her motherly instincts haven't left yet.
She swallows, “With the new protocols there are emergency shelters they can go to.” The lie feels hard in her throat. If they knew that we were fucked…would they still try to save Earth? Fuck water, she needed more moonshine.
Donald's eyes dart between the members of the Guardians before meeting Cecil's, “Five minutes until they make it through Earth's atmosphere.”
Time seems to still for a second. Debbie's heart pounds in her chest, her hands start feeling clammy and sweaty. Questions crowd her mind but only one is the loudest. What do these people want with Earth?
“Four minutes.”
“We should go meet them too. Maybe a show of force will make them reconsider.” Rex has no right caring so much about this shitty planet.
No they shouldn't. They are children. He and Rae just became official a month ago. They should run away together now.
“Three minutes.”
It is like Donald drops a bomb in the office. People start shouting over each other. Reminding her once again of how much she sucks because how can anyone think of anything to say right now? She pulls Monster Girl closer to her and lets their scents mingle. Aged sour milk with week old milk, very lovely.
“Two minutes.”
Come on. Don't be a coward. Tell the Guardians to run. To save themselves. Save them like you couldn't save Mark.
The room starts feeling smaller and smaller by the second. She feels alone yet at the same time that everyone's eyes are on her from somewhere out of reach.
“One minute.”
There is still time. Kate asked you to be their kid's godmother for fucks sake. Save them. Save The Immortal!
Donald lets out a breath, “They are here.” Elsewhere in the room someone swears.
You are a fucking coward, Debbie. Not satisfied with just Mark being dead because of you?
Rex is staring at the screen, his mouth open wide, “Fuck they are bigger than Omniman. What do they eat on their planet?” Debbie notices the younger man is holding his girlfriend's hand.
She suddenly needs to get a closer look at the pair who are likely about to destroy the planet. Both Viltrumite have muscles that would make any Olympian envious, she confirms. The woman of the duo has dark short hair and looks unimpressed at whatever she is looking at. Debbie feels that if the woman had a choice between being alone in a forest with a strange man or bear she would choose the bear, only so she could fight it. She no doubt could break everyone in the room in half like a pencil. The people of Tokyo don't stand a chance. Her partner on the other hand is mountainous, at least double the size of Nolan. As she leans further in she notices one of his eyes is a clear milky white while the other is a striking hazel. There is a large noticeable scar running along his face. Making her wonder who was brave enough to get close to the man to hurt him. Were they even still alive? She narrows her eyes as she takes him in.
Why does he seem so familiar?
The man smiles when he spots the camera bot, and Debbie hears a few people shuffle back but she stays put. Big men like him were used to fear. Besides, if he wanted her dead it wasn't like she could stop him. Might as well enjoy the show while she could.
Rae snorts, “Still think they're friendly?” Debbie thinks she hears a quiet joint no from Rex and Sampson.
Cecil sets down his tablet, and moves to stand beside her. His hand brushes the back of hers. It takes everything in her not to bat him away. “Send the bot closer,” Cecil's stills like a statue, standing tall. But Debbie is close enough to notice the sweat beading down his head, “Let's hear what they have to say.”
Feeling weird she moves back next to Monster Girl who grabs Debbie's hand and squeezes.
It will hurt much later knowing that was the last time the two would ever touch. If she had known Debbie would have pushed Monster Girl towards Robot and told them to leave this fucked planet behind and never come back. If she had known she would have screamed from the top of her lungs that Cecil was lying to them all, to the world. If she had known she would have quietly walked back into her room, gathered up the sheets, and embraced her son again. But she hadn't known, and for the rest of her short human life she would curse herself for it.
Someone in the room lets out a gasp as the camera moves closer to the pair. Both Viltrumites lock eyes with it, the man tilting his head, bemused. Debbie suddenly feels like she is back in school surrounded by Alphas who think they own the world. She straightens herself as if she is meeting them face to face. If they wanted her respect they needed to earn it.
Cecil clears his throat and the room quiets, “Hello, welcome to Earth. May I ask your names?”
The Viltrumite woman scoffs, her eyes narrow, “No. Now my turn, do you have Debbie Grayson with you?”
Debbie coughs. That…that couldn't have been what she just heard. Maybe the moonshine was starting to work its magic?
Ever the poet Rex blurts out a, “The fuck…” Their eyes meet. Yep, she hadn't misheard. The room floods with the smell of his fear, burnt bread.
“Maybe they think you are the Queen of Earth.” Robot muses, but Debbie can't help but register the uncertainty in his voice. And the fear flowing off him is overwhelming - burnt wires. She has never seen Robot terrified before.
Cecil ignores the circus happening around him, and asks bluntly, “No. Why do you ask?”
Debbie feels a bit guilty that she is surprised Cecil isn't using her as a bargaining chip.
Why the fuck do they want me? Did Nolan send them?
The Viltrumite woman smiles back at the bot, her teeth sharp, reminding Debbie of fangs, “I was hoping you would say that.” Then she is gone.
Debbie gasps. What the fuck. What the everloving fuck? People don't just disappear.
Unless they are fast, you idiot.
She exhales. Her mind thinks back to a happier time she was with her son and ex. How, when Mark was young Nolan would race around the house carrying him on his shoulders, avoiding her camera, always moving out of frame at the last second, faster than she could comprehend. Then they would all laugh as they looked through the blurry images of themselves. She remembered giggling once as Nolan revealed he had actually turned the camera back on her a few times without her noticing. Then she would kiss him and he would look back at her like she was his world.
No one in the war room gets a chance to voice their concerns, questions, or complaints because the Viltrumite man grabs the bot, and pulls it towards him.
Debbie feels the hair on the back of her neck stand as she takes him in. The man radiates power and for some reason it intrigues her. She stares into his good eye feeling a jolt when it meets her own. Of course there is no way he can actually see her. Still though. For some reason she feels curious about him, eerily similar to how she felt about Nolan after he saved her from that car. There is no doubt in her mind, this Viltrumite was an Alpha too.
The man smiles a toothy grin, reminding her of a cat who is taunting its prey, “Sorry about that. Anissa is just excited.” Debbie doesn't have time to think about why his voice is so relaxing to her ears because he turns the camera around to show Anissa, hovering over Japan.
Fuck.
The room buzzes around her. The guardians are running, preparing for a fight. She thinks she hears Monster Girl shout, “They'll be back.” But for some reason Debbie can't bear to look away from the screen. She doesn't know why, but she needs to keep her eyes on the man.
“You see, we were actually hoping you wouldn't have Nolan's mate.” The man's voice is conversational, like he is talking about the weather. She frowns at his mention of being tied to Nolan. But why?
The man keeps going, “Because we were told that we couldn't destroy your little cities after we found her.” His tone becomes so playful it throws her off balance. She feels her face heat up. This is a game to him. She inhales, wondering imagining what he currently smelled like. There is no doubt in her mind, despite being unable to explain it, that this man is beyond happy to be on Earth searching for her. Even worse, for some unexplainable reason, it makes her excited.
Why do I almost want him to find me?
The camera turns back towards Anissa - Debbie frowns - who gives a single wave before flying downward.
Down.
Down.
Down.
People are rushing from corner to corner, calling heroes, giving directions to run, fight, hide, escape, save people, or save themselves. She hears Cecil screaming that the Guardians are ready to go and that they need to be beamed to Japan now. Not in a few minutes. Now.
It is like she is under water. She wants to say something. Anything. But she can't look away from the screen. She needs to see the male Viltrumite again. And somehow, like he can hear her thoughts the man indulges her, turning the camera slowly back towards himself. So slow it almost feels agonizing. Like a strip tease. It is as if they are on their hundredth date and he knows that she loves foreplay as much as sex. She breathes.
He purrs her name, “Debbie,” and it almost sends her into heat right then and there, “If you are listening right now, I want you to know-”
A sense of dread and shame began to overtake her. She thanks the gods she took her suppressants this morning. If anyone in that room could smell her now then would lock her in a loony bin.
“I cannot wait to meet you.”
Neither can she. God is she so fucked.