The Unkillable: Death Sworn [INVINCIBLEXREADER]

Chapter 16

"I'm sorry... They... they're gone."

Donald hated having to always be the messenger, but that was what he had signed up for when he decided to become Cecil's assistant. Or, at least it was one of the things. One of the things he hated most.

Debbie sobbed into her husband's chest, Mark standing off to the side with denial in his expression. "No... they can't be. I- that's impossible! They can't die!" Some anger peeked through, frustrated tears streaming down his face as he tried to turn away from the truth. Donald's eyes darted between each member of the family, trying to think of a response. "I-" He sighed. "I'm sorry." He then shook his head and left, for once realizing that trying to reason with the boy, or speak of preparations for your funeral, or any other things of the like, would not help.

Nolan rubbed Debbie's back as he stared down the hallway with furrowed brows, watching as Donald met with Cecil, whispering something to the man. Cecil met Nolan's gaze, and after a moment, he nodded.

Mark, distraught and incapable of knowing what to do next, fell against the wall, running his hands through his hair. He scowled, angry with himself now, crocodile tears streaming down his face, hiding them with his hands. There was an infinite amount of phrases he wanted to speak- scream at the world and the rest of the universe, but instead only folded them on himself, keeping his many overwhelming and cruel thoughts internal.

There was too much he wanted to say and do, but no way to do it, so he felt stuck- frozen within the fact that you, the one that was with him for every single thing he did- whether minuscule or grave in its importance- were gone. And there was no getting you back.

Debbie tried to wipe her tears, clear them away and do something. But she didn't know what to do. What was she supposed to do? She sought comfort from her family, but at the moment Mark was overwhelmed with his own grief, and Nolan seemed to be within his own world.

That night, the Grayson's fell asleep crying, save for Nolan, who had met with the man who always kept things grey- Cecil.

"What's your plan?" Nolan asked him, sitting across from him on his sofa, leaning forward and tense. Cecil crossed one leg over the other, responding as though it were obvious. "We'll keep an eye on their body. See if they really do come back like their "Death Sworn" abilities imply. Outside of that, I need to figure out how exactly Viltrumite DNA got into their bloodstream." Cecil shifted in his seat, keeping an eye on Nolan's grave face and serious form. There was no change in the Viltrumite's expression, so he continued. "Is there any way your blood or Mark's could have somehow gotten into them? Through an injury? Or an accident?" Nolan's frown deepened, a hint of offence showing in his voice. "No. What sort of "accident" are you implying?" Cecil took a step back within his questions, trying to counter Nolan's defensiveness. "I'm just trying to figure things out. With everything that's going on, you have to understand where I'm coming from." Nolan sighed, irritated in his tone. "Well, I don't know how Viltrimite blood could have gotten into their bloodstream, okay? End of story." Nolan stood. "And don't think about trying to interrogate my son either, Cecil."

Cecil frowned as the man left, sighing. "You know I'll have to anyway." He muttered, laying back in his seat with his glass of whiskey.

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With the fluttering of tired eyes you awoke in a place of coldness and a monotonous color scheme. Groaning, you stood, a weight around your neck and shoulders. Leaning against a grey brick wall, you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You seemed to be in a train station, in the dead of night with weak lights hovering above with no rods supporting them rather than twinkling stars or a moon. You felt the weight on your shoulders shift- the fact that Bane was still hanging around your neck like a loose scarf became apparent to you. With a yelp, you jumped back, bringing your hands to the scaly creature, only for it to move from your grasp and wrap around your arm. "Now, that's no way to treat your guide, now is it?" Blinking, you lowered your arms, allowing Bane to become comfortable on your shoulder again. "Sorry." No one but him was there. "So, where exactly are we? And what's going on?"