Different [A Superhero AU] - Book One

Chapter Thirty-Nine - Funerals and Date Nights

It always rains at funerals. It doesn't help anyone much, except to mask the endless supply of tears that run down the faces of the attendees and to help match the perfectly depressing mood. Mark has found that the rain only shows up for the saddest burials.

Marzia's coffin sinks slowly into the ground, protected from the downpour by a small canopy of black umbrellas. Her parents and close family, brought from Italy by a private jet that Curatrix provided, toss bouquets of Italian flowers onto her casket and utter their final goodbyes in their native tongue. Felix stands beside them, his eyes filled with a fury and grief that Mark has never seen.

Eventually, dirt fills the grave and hides the glossy wood of the hero's coffin. Some of the guests head off, their feet splashing on the soggy ground while others choose to stand beside the headstone in silence. Mark waits around for a bit, pulling himself together and getting his emotions back under control.

"Hey, how are you?" Ken asks softly, fiddling with the handle of his umbrella as he stares at the gravestone.

"I'll miss her," Mark replies just as gently. "But I'll be okay. I'm more worried about Felix."

Ken nods in agreement, glancing over at the Swede momentarily. After a few beats of silence pass between them, a woman, who Mark knows to be Ken's wife, approaches and lays a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder. With a small wave, the hero heads home with her.

A moment passes before Mark leaves the grave behind.

—

Dan lounges on Jack's bed, playing with a ball of fire as the Irishman pulls a hoodie over his bare chest.

"How are you gonna get to his house?" the Brit asks as he tosses the fire into the air and catches it again.

Jack shrugs. "Dunno. I think he has a plan."

Dan glances over at his fellow villain momentarily, watching as Jack fiddles with the hem of the sweater.  Seconds later, he exits the room.  Instinctively, the Brit follows.

"So where are you going to go?" Dan asks.

"Outside."

"And wait there?  In the rain?"

"Yeah. The heroes have a general idea as to where our base is, so he might just stop by here."

"I guess I can't argue with that logic.  But, like, it's raining."

The pair reaches the exit and Jack steps outside, glancing up towards the sky and allowing the raindrops to run down his face. Thunder rumbles overhead, accompanied by a bolt of lightning that streaks across the blanket of dark grey clouds.

"I'm heading back to my room," Dan states, watching the storm.

Jack nods and leans against the nearest building wall, the cold dampness of the brick slicing through his hoodie and sinking into his skin. He finds that it doesn't bother him. California is much too dry and hot for his liking, so the rain is a welcome change in his books.

Minutes pass like hours. With every second that passes, the flurry of emotions in Jack's gut increases. Is he going to make a fool of himself? Is Mark going to give him the partial blame for Marzia's death despite the fact that Stephanie's actions were completely uncalled for?

A black car pulls up next to the Irishman and the window rolls down, revealing Mark in the driver's seat.

"Hop in!" he calls over the storm.

Jack hurries up to the door and slides into the passenger seat, wiping the rain from his eyes as Mark drives off.  The warmth of the car is a drastic change from the wet atmosphere outside. 

"I'm glad you figured out what to do. I never had a chance to give you my number or address," the hero comments, his dark eyes focused on the watery road ahead.

Jack nods. "I'm glad I got it right."

A smile graces Mark's face and the villain's heart lifts a little. The two make small talk for the rest of the drive, eventually pulling into the hero's driveway. Jack looks at the house with wonder. He's never lived in an actual home before. 

Mark opens the front door, being instantly greeted by a fluffy golden dog. When she sees Jack, she wags her tail and smells his hand. He assumes this is Chica, the dog Mark told him about. The Irishman leans down, petting her ears and letting her lick his face. A small, involuntarily laugh escapes his lips as Chica's tail wags back and forth.

"That's Chica, the dog I told you about," Mark says, scratching her ears.

Jack nods and pulls himself to his feet, kicking off his shoes and following the hero deeper into the house. Despite the gloomy atmosphere outside, the house itself is big and bright.  Artwork dons the walls, filling the space with pops of colour.  Lining the walls are shelves covered in trinkets and books, collected over the years and each holding its own story.  The rain, a gentle and constant thud against the roof, is enough to make Jack sigh happily.

Mark steps into the kitchen, ruffling his hair as he throws a glance at the villain.  "Do you want coffee?" 

"Sure," Jack replies. 

He enters the living room, settling on the couch as he continues to stare at the home in amazement.  Minutes later, Mark returns with two mugs of the steaming hot beverage. Jack takes the one he's handed, sipping tentatively.

"You wanted to talk," the Irishman states as the hero sits next to him.

"Yeah."  Mark turns towards him and takes a sip of his coffee.  "Um, how are you doing, first of all?" 

Jack shrugs. "I'm not sleeping again, but that doesn't matter. I'm more worried about you."

The hero sighs. "I'll be okay eventually." He swirls the contents of his mug, biting his lip. "Did you, uh, plan for Stephanie to do that?"

The Irishman shakes his head. "Oh God, no. Our boss is proud of her, but the rest of us are pretty horrified. I think she might have scared herself by doing that."

Mark's eyebrows furrow.  "If you don't want to do it, why do you?"

"We do what we do to protect each other," Jack states.  "We're each other's only family, and the boss isn't afraid to punish us if we don't perform.  By going through with his orders, whether we like them or not, we guarantee that the boss won't do anything to any of us." 

"So when you had those bandages on your chest and Anti had taken over..." 

"That was a punishment.  The boss wanted my loyalty back." 

Mark nods as the two lapse into silence, each sipping their own drinks. The Irishman looks out the window at the rain and dark skies, enjoying the sounds of the downpour. After several moments, he glances back towards Mark. The red-haired hero glances out the window as well, looking more sad than Jack has ever seen him.  Without a second thought, the villain sets his mug on the coffee table and scoots towards Mark, leaning lightly on his shoulder.

The hero looks down at him. "What are you doing?"

Blush rises rapidly into Jack's cheeks.  "You looked sad." 

Mark smiles a little and pulls him into his arms, tucking him against his chest. The Irishman tenses up for a moment before relaxing, the hero's gesture surprisingly comforting.

"You're really freaking warm," Jack mumbles, nestling into him. "Don't laugh at me if I fall asleep on you."

Mark chuckles. "I would never!"

"Oh good."

Chica hops onto the couch next to the pair and rests her head on Jack's legs, making the Irishman feel more complete than he ever has in his entire life.