#half kryptonian!reader

The landing jolts through your ankles, making you wobble, and your arms shoot out for balance to steady yourself.  Moving quickly to brace your hands against the tree trunk, leaning into it.

The bark is rough enough to catch slightly at your skin as you run your fingers over it, instinctively searching for the carving.

It doesn’t take long to find. M.G sits messily carved next to your much neater initials. Your grin softens when your fingers trace on the newer addition. 

The small heart holding both sets of initials together was added a few months ago after he finally stopped overthinking everything and kissed you.

Speaking of Mark… you can barely hide your smirk as you move around the trunk to the other side, closer to where his house waits just beyond the branches. 

You’d seen the light in his room flick on only minutes ago, warm yellow spilling through the open blinds. Signalling he’d made it home from his shift at BurgerMart.

Which, obviously, meant the only logical next step was getting out your window and getting to him.

You cross the rest of the tree without much thought, the bark shifting slightly under your feet before you step onto the Grayson roof.

You take a second to glance at his driveway for what you know is already not there.

His driveway is empty, exactly as expected on a Friday night.

His parents are out on one of their overly lovey-dovey date nights, meaning you have Markus Sebastian Grayson all to yourself once you get your hands on him :D

You can’t help the small giggle that slips out as you inch closer to his window, kneeling down as you peer inside.

Mark has already changed out of his BurgerMart uniform, the red fabric tossed carelessly toward the foot of his bed while his work pants are on the floor, barely a foot from his door as if he couldn't wait to get out of them.

He’s in that stupid Green Lanterned-themed pyjama set you got him (you have the matching Flash one, obviously). The back of his shirt faces you, the fabric wrinkled from who knows how long of not washing it. 

You make a quiet disappointed sound to yourself for being just a few minutes too late, but it cuts short at his next movements.

Mark leans over his bedside table, the soft glow of his phone screen lighting his face as he checks it. No doubt trying to see if it had enough charge to unplug it. 

Your gaze drifts over his back naturally as you try to ignore the slightly creepy vibe you're giving off as you study him

Hmm, for a guy who barely works out, he has really nice back muscles. Your eyes, very innocently, start to dip lower and you immediately wish you had brought your phone with you.

Mark doesn’t let you stand behind him anymore, especially when he bends over.

This was all due to that one phase you had three years ago, when he’d go up the stairs and your hands would without fail gravitate straight to his butt. (In your defence though, he had a really nice ass.)

He unplugs his phone and drops onto his bed, already typing away, with that stupid dopey smile tugging at his face.

Your smile widens, knowing that look without even seeing what’s on his screen..

He’s texting you.

You watch him a moment longer than you mean to. Just long enough to see his brows start to knit together when you don’t respond right away, his thumb pausing mid-text before he brings his phone closer to his face.

It’s a known thing between you where he’d come home tired, smelling like fryer oil and a bit sweaty on the brink of death after dealing with customers for hours, only to get revived with your attention. 

You see him bite his lip and quickly duck out of view when he glances at your window, which you had left only your bedside lap on. A sign that you were supposedly awake. 

A moment passes before you peek back inside and you watch him sigh leaning back into his bed his phone held to his chest as he stares up at the ceiling dramatically.

Aw, okay, you can’t let your needy boyfriend get too pouty.

You press your palm flat against the glass with a smack and watch as Mark jolts so hard he nearly drops his phone, shoulders snapping upright as his head whips toward the window. 

For a second, he just stares. His pretty brown eyes wide with a hand clutching his chest. Absolutely a deer in headlights with no survival instincts.

You can’t hold in your laugh, watching his expression flip from confusion to that familiar, exasperated disbelief as he pushes himself off his bed, making his way to you.

He opens the window immediately, the latch snapping up with more force than necessary. The warm air of his room and vanilla candle you got him hits your face and you feel the rush of comfort it always brings you.

You’re already opening your mouth, ready with something teasing to bully him about his dramatic reaction.

He acted like you were a villain instead of his very normal, very reasonable girlfriend–

“Puss–”

But you don’t get to finish the word.

Mark just grabs your face.

Both hands cupping your cheeks and squishing them together. He pulls you closer to the window frame, giving your face a small but firm shake.

Your lips push out awkwardly from the pressure as you squirm in complaint.

“You’re so fucking weird–” he blurts, voice cracking slightly. “What the fuck.”

Your brows lift as best they can under his grip, a hand uselessly gripping his wrist while the other holds onto the window frame to stop yourself from falling face-first into his room. 

“Ecfuse meh?” you mumble, barely getting the words out.

His expression twitches before he shakes you again, gentler this time. “I was literally texting you,” he mutters. “I thought I was hallucinating for a second.”

You blink up at him, still slightly distorted by his hands and also very distracted because wow, he has a nice grip–

Which tragically loosens the moment you want to enjoy it. You huff immediately putting on an annoyed front.

“Let go of my face, you dick.”

“No.” 

“Mark, I swear to god–”

He leans in and cuts you off with a kiss, still squishing your cheeks slightly making the kiss land a little awkwardly at first.

Its almost impossible for you to take it seriously but your eyes still flutter shut as you lean into it. 

Mark pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes flicking over your face like he’s double-checking again that you’re actually here and annoying him in person.

“…Yeah,” he mutters, “Not hallucinating.”

You roll you eyes as you finally manage to pry one of his hands off your cheeks. “You just wanted to kiss me, perv.”

His expression changes instantly. “Me? Perv?” he says, pointing at himself then you with all the dramatics you've seen from a man. “You’re the one outside my window at night like– like a peeing Tom!”

You squint at him.

“…Peeping Tom??”

“Yes.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he keeps going, getting more worked up, but you can tell he’s amused by the small crinkle near his eye.

“Did you watch me change, too?” he demands, narrowing his eyes.

“What? No!” you say immediately, and unfortunately, too fast to be casual.

“Really?” he says leaning closer. “That sounded suspicious.”

“I came too late to watch that,” you snap back.

The silence thaty follows is loud as he just stares at you before raising a brow, and you see the smirk he’s holding back. (He’d never admit it, but he lives off the fact that you find him hot.)

“…That is not better,” he says flatly.

You shrug. “Just bein’ honest, babe.”

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you are genuinely going to take years off his life. He then reaches for your arm, trying to tug you properly into the room through the window.

“Come in,” he says. “Before you fall off the roof and I have to explain to your mom why you died cuz you’re obsessed with me.”

You dig your heels in lightly, resisting just enough to be annoying but also enough to get your point across that you were not budging. 

“Nope,” you say, tugging your arm back with a small grin. “The stars are too nice to be inside.”

His grip loosens slightly as his eyes flick past you to the night sky, dotted with scattered stars.

“…You came all the way over here,” he says slowly, “to drag me outside to look at stars?”

You nod, smiling at him. “And to make out under them.”

Whatever reluctant, exhausted, mildly responsible boyfriend energy he was holding onto just… disappears as his face breaks into an immediate grin.

“I love your fucking brain,” he says instantly. “Best idea you’ve ever had.”

You beam at that, already shifting back so he can climb out through the window too. He pulls himself out onto the roof with practiced ease.

“Yeah?” you tease, tilting your head at him. “Tell me more about what you love about me.”

That earns you a small laugh from him. He takes a inches closer, hands already reaching for you

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says, voice softer now but still smug. “I’ve got a list.”

“A list?” you perk up immediately eyes widen with interest and his eyebrows lift a little amused

“Of course you’re excited about that part,” he says, rolling his eyes

You crawl closer to him. “I want explicit detail.”

He studies you for a second, considering it. Then his expression shifts into something mischievous immediately making you cautious. 

“Fine,” he says. “But–”

You groan without letting him finish. “Ugh, what now.”

He clearly chooses to ignire your attitude as he gestures between the two of you like its obvious.

“I want one kiss per thing,” he says way too pleased with himself.

“…That is so manipulative.”

Mark dramatically drops his gaze to his hands like he is somehow the reasonable one in this conversation.

It would probably work better if the corners of his mouth were not twitching so hard from the grin he is trying and failing to suppress.

“That’s your opinion,” he says lightly, even adding a fake uninterested glance at the streets below. But you see him side eye you to gauge your reaction.

Your eyes narrow at him suspiciously as you point a finger at him as you shift closer despite yourself “You’re just trying to scam more kisses out of me!”

Mark’s grin only widens, completely unashamed. One hand grabbing your finger to pull you closer while the other goes to your waist, as he tilts his head at you.

“And?” he asks simply, like that should end the argument entirely.

And… and nothing.

You don’t say another word as you grab the front of his shirt roughly, tugging him to you making a pleased sound as your mouth meets his.

The kiss is messy and a little sticky from the remaining lipgloss you applied before stepping out of your own window.

The hand gripping your finger drops to join the other at your waist as he tugs you into his lap, kissing you back without hesitation.

For a moment, you lose yourself in him. The warmth of his hands at your sides, the faint sound of him breathing out against you like youre stealing his breath

… But then you remember that he owes you a list.

You try to pull back just slightly, just enough to remind him, but his lips chase yours immediately, refusing to let the distance happen. 

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you feel him smile against your mouth in response.

Oh.

This asshole.

This was his plan all along. Distract you with kisses so he can get away with keeping that list to himself. 

Fuck no.

You shift your hand up into the hair at the nape of his neck and tug firmly. Mark makes a low sound into the kiss, half protest, half groan, and finally gives you what you want.

His eyes are a little unfocused when he looks at you, pupils blown wider than they were a second ago, lips already forming a pout.  

“…Nice try Grayson” you grumble

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, immediately avoiding your gaze a tell tale sign he’s lying out his ass.

You raise your brows unamused, shifting to slide off his lap. But before you even fully commit to moving your back somehow meets the roof tiles with a soft oof.

The impact isn’t hard, just sudden enough to jolt the air out of you making Mark freeze. 

“Oh– shit,” he blurts, pulling back. “Are you okay? Was that too rough? I’m sorry–”

You laugh immediately, cutting through his spiralling as you reach a hand to cup his face. 

“Relax,” you say, still grinning up at him. “It just surprised me. But if you don’t hold up your side of the bargain, I am going home.”

He leans into your palm immediately, eyes closing for half a second beofre he turns his head slightly and presses a quick kiss to your hand.

“Fine, fine,” he mutters. “I’ll tell you”

He sits back just a little and your palm drops back to your chest with the distance. He still hovering over you, then squints like he’s suddenly having a really hard time recalling what to say.

“…Okay,” he says slowly. “Give me a second. I’m thinking really hard right now.”

You narrow your eyes. “You look constipated–” 

He holds up a finger shushing you, “I need full concentration for this.”

You exhale through your nose, shifting slightly on the roof tile as you look past him at the night sky. The cold seeps through your tank top now that you’re actually still for a second, and you regret everything briefly.

You couldv’e been reading xReader fanfiction about Red Robin. Yet here you were under your stupid boyfriend– 

Then Mark lets out a quiet “ah.”

You look back at him expecting a stupid grin on his face but he’s got that dopey look on his face again.

You raise a brow curiously as he shifts a bit where he’s hovering over you, suddenly less confident 

“I love how you show up,” he says making your lips part slightly as you soften, but you stay silent to prompt him to continue.

“Like, you just– appear. Anywhere. Anytime. Like it’s nothing, just when I need you.” A shy smile tugs at his mouth. 

“And I love that I never have to wonder if you’re actually gonna be there,” he adds, quieter. “Because you always are.”

For a moment, the teasing energy between you both thins out completely, replaced by something a little too intimate for how late it is and how high up you are on a roof.

“…Anyway,” he mutters clearing his throat, attempting to recover the mood, “that’s one. So you owe me a kiss now.”

You don’t call him out on the fact that you already gave him the kiss. Instead, you reach up, grab the front of his shirt again.

Mark barely has time to react before you’re shifting under him. You end up straddling his waist. He makes a small, surprised sound, hands instinctively gripping your hips.

“Hey–” he starts, but it dies immediately when you kiss him again. His grip tighten slightly before it relaxes as he melts

Your fingers curl into his shirt, the roof suddenly feeling a lot less cold when he’s pressed against you like this.

He lets out a small whine that he absolutely will deny if you bring it up as your tongue swipes across his bottom lip before deepening the kiss.

When you finally pull back, it’s only enough to move to press kisses to his jaw, then his cheek, then back to his mouth again, smothering his face.

After a loud obnoxious kiss to his mouth that your sure wouldv’e woken up his parents if they were home, you pause just long enough to look at him properly.

You hair falling forward slightly as you tilt your head. If you thought he was a mess the first time you pulled away, he was wrecked now.

His cheeks are flushed, chest rising a little unevenly as he catches his breath, eyes half-lidded unfocused, and his lips are slightly glossy and reddened. 

God.

You could just eat him… but you decided on just kissing him more

“You–” kiss

 “are–” kiss

 “so fucking–” kiss

 “cute!” kiss

He lets out a small defeated whimper, hands tightening slightly at your waist like he’s trying to decide whether to pull you closer or hide his face entirely.

“I’m not–” he starts, but you kiss him again and his words turn into a content sigh. You’re both smiling into it now, which makes it almost impossible to actually kiss properly.

When you finally pull away for real this time, it’s slow and almost reluctant. You press your forehead to his, as you both catch your breath.

For a second, neither of you says anything. 

The only sound is Mark’s breathing and crickets chirping in the night. The faint glow from his window behind him makes him look etheral. 

There he is.

Mark Grayson. Best friend turned boyfriend, but still and always the dorky boy youve loved all your life.

“I’ll always be there for you Mark.”

His eyes flick over your face. “…Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say cupping his face, thumb brushing his cheek.

You feel any remaining tension in him vanish, his expression softening completely as he presses into your touch. 

“…Good,” he murmurs after a moment “Cuz I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

Then he tilts his head and you recognize the shift before he even moves properly. His hands slide a little more securely around your waist

You don’t resist when he moves you, you naturally go slightly slack under him as he kisses you.

Neither of you notices how much you’ve moved from his window– or how close you’ve gotten to the edge of his roof.

Mark’s hand slides more firmly to your hips, intent on laying you onto the roof tiles properly this time. But when he presses you back, expecting the solid roof beneath you…

There’s nothing but air.

For half a second, your body doesn’t understand what’s happening too caught up in Mark. But out of no where your stomach drops violently like suddenly plunging down on a rollercoaster. 

“Shit–”

Your grip on him tightens instantly, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood as instinct takes over. A shriek escaping you as you both go over.

Wind whips around you, the roof disappears above in an instant, and you’re greeted with the sight of the night sky alongside Mark’s horrified face which you’d laugh at if you weren’t about to break your neck

Mark’s arms lock around you hard, one hand snapping to the back of your head and pulling you into the crook of his neck.

The other clamps around your back, practically moulding you to his body. Your legs wrap around him without thinking, clinging out of pure instinct.

You screw your eyes shut waiting for the searing pain and sound of breaking bones… but it never comes. Instead you feel the wind start moving in the opposite direction.

“…Uh,” Mark says.

You lift your head slightly, still panicked. “Are we dead?”

“No,” he answers hesitantly “...I don’t think so.”

You twist slightly in his hold just enough to look past him.

The roof is… far below, shrinking quickly, as if you are moving away from it rather than falling from it. That realization makes your stomach turn again.

“…Mark,” you say slowly, voice cracking as fear fully sets in. “Why the fuck are we going up?”

“What do you mean why are we going up?” he snaps, too fast, too panicked to process it properly.

Mark looks… worse than you feel. Hair completely messed up, eyes wide and his legs dangle slightly in the open air.

“…You can fly?” he blurts.

You gap at him for a full second, your stress making you kind of mad that he’s putting this on you.

“What???”

“I don’t know!” he says cracking into pure panic and confusion. “We’re flying. I’m not doing it. I thought– I thought it was me for a second but it’s not me, I’m not– I don’t–”

He looks down again and then looks like he immediately regrets it closing his eyes for a second before opening them again to look at you.

“I don’t have powers!” he continues, words spilling faster now. “I mean, I wish I did, that would actually explain this, but I don’t! I’m just– I’m just Mark!”

“Then why are we going up?” you ask, voice small

“I don’t know!!” he snaps again but more harshly, then softens right after when you flinch slightly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know. I swear I don’t know.”

His arms adjust again without thinking, pulling you closer against his chest. You feel him shift slightly, like he’s slipping from you

You react too, clinging harder with your arms and legs locking around him as your core strains with the effort.

“Mark– make us go down,” you say quickly, it comes out sharper than you meant it to.

The ground is getting smaller. The air is getting colder. The world is stretching out beneath you into a dark nothing.

You feel your eyes start to sting and theres nothing you can do to stop them from watering as panic overwhelms you

“Mark–” you try again, but your voice breaks halfway through.

A small, involuntary sob slips out. Your grip on his hoodie tightens until your fingers ache.

Everything in Mark changes instantly. “…Hey,” he says. “Hey– no, no, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you– fuck–” 

“I’ve got you,” he repeats quieter. “Just– just stay with me, okay? Don’t look down.”

Mark’s grip shifts again, one hand still desperately gripping you to his chest, the other cupping the side of your head and pulling you back in so your face is in the crook of his neck. He’s not able to hide the tremble in his body though.

A new voice cuts through the air behind you.

“Mark.”

Your head snaps around on instinct and you let out a sharp, involuntary shriek. The motion makes Mark tightens his hold on you immediately to keep you from shifting too much.

Your vision is still blurred with tears, but the figure next to you both comes into focus.

A man effortlessly in the air, completely stable, arms relaxed at his sides like he’s been flying since birth.

Mark’s entire posture changes the second he sees him. “…Dad,” he gasps, “Oh, thank god.”

Your head jerks back toward Mark, confusion cutting through the fear for half a second, before you look again.

Nolan Grayson.

And he’s flying.

“Dad,” Mark says quickly, still holding you tightly. “I don’t know what’s going on. We were on the roof, and then we just started–”

Nolan’s gaze flicks to you, and you miss the subtle shift in his expression, too overwhelmed to breathe at this point.

“--she started flying,” Nolan corrects calmly.

“I– please,” you cut in. “I don’t care who is flying or why, just please get us down.”

He just studies you for a moment while you look down at the literal black abyss of the night before up at what you swear is space.

“Are you sure?” he asks Mark, flying closer. "That it wasn't you?"

“Yes!” Mark blurts. “Pretty sure!”

The shortest moment passes as Nolan’s eyes shift back to you again. His shoulders relax slightly, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders at Mark’s words.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says, voice steady “I’m going to bring you two down, okay? Once we get to the bottom you have to let Mark go, but don’t worry– I’ll hold onto you.”

You blink hard at him. “I– I don’t– what–”

Mark cuts in immediately, still clinging to you. “Dad, she’s freaking out, just– just do it slow, okay?”

Nolan nods once, and then his hand comes forward, gripping the back of Mark’s shirt and like you both weigh nothing he starts guiding you both down.

At first, there’s resistance. A invisible push under your skin to stay moving up. Your stomach twists again as you realize it really was you flying.

Nolan meets your gaze over Mark’s shoulder, expression calm and patient. He gives you a smile.

“Listen to me,” he says. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you. I won’t let anything hurt either of you.”

A pause.

“You trust me, right?”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

And you did.

That was almost a year ago now, and you are glad you did. From that day forward, you placed your trust in Nolan completely, just as he placed his trust in you.

He told you about Viltrum, how his planet had been destroyed, and he came to Earth as a refugee, much like Superman.

But unlike him, after meeting Debbie, he chose to stay. To dedicate his life to being a father and a husband. 

You remember how mournful he looked he said it. His eyes looking to the night sky for a moment before returning to you and you felt your heart ache for him. 

At the time, Nolan had joked that he expected to have this conversation with Mark when he got his powers, but it just went to show that you really were his kid too, family.

You remember the faint lift of his mouth when he said it, the way his eyes flicked to you for just a moment longer than usual

And that brings you to now.

The air that once made your shiver felt amazing as you cut through it. Wind roars past your ears, loud enough to drown out everything except your own laughter.

The ground far below is a blur of colours and shapes, you’re not even sure where you are and you don’t care.

Slightly below, Nolan hovers in place perfectly still with his crossed. His eyes track you with pride all over his face.

You let out giggle as you go around him, faster this time before coming to a stop in front of him. Cheeks warm and slightly aching from how much you’re smiling.

Nolan watches you complete the loop and gives a nod. “You are a natural, kiddo.”

“You think so?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the grin on your face gives you away.

Nolan tilts his head, a fatherly smile, one that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

A gust of wind rolls past, tugging at your clothes making you instinctively adjust your balance.. 

“You are already correcting mid-air,” he says nodding again studying you “Most people would still be crash landing.”

You duck your head at the praise. He’s been yo father figure ever since you moved in next to the Graysons at a few months old.

He and Debbie had treated you like their own and were thrilled when you and Mark started dating.

“Any more… pop-up powers?” he asks after a beat, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

The question makes you huff a laugh. You remember how he had reacted when you came over one afternoon and accidentally ripped the sliding backyard door clean off its frame.

He had not been upset at all, just… impressed even in the face of your frantic apologizes and embarrassing attempts to fix it before Debbie saw it.

And then there was the sneezing incident, which had left the Grayons with a destroyed dining table and shattered dishes.

Of course, Mark had been there for most of it, too. He had been excited for you, even cheering you on and marvelling at you every chance he got.

But you also remember overhearing him talking to Debbie when he thought no one was listening. 

His voice was quieter than usual. Saying he felt a little left out and more like a failure for not having his powers yet. After all, he was Nolan’s son.

The memory lingers just long enough to make your expression soften.

Nolan is still watching you, waiting for your answer, unaware of what just crossed your mind.

“So?” he prompts gently, bringing you back.

“Uh… no, nothing else,” you say, letting out a small sigh licking your lips.

You make a mental note to bring some lip balm next time as your mind wonders yet again to someone else this time.

Your mom.

A year ago, you told her Nolan was teaching you how to fix a car out of all things. She laughed and then laughed harder when you pouted.

Thankfully, your mother adored the Graysons, so she made no attempt to pry for more information. Just told you to let her know when you’re leaving and what time you’d be home so she wouldn’t worry.

Speaking of… shit you forgot to tell her you were leaving this morning. You’d slept through your alarm and just rushed out of your window.

You hesitate, glancing down toward the world far below. “It’s getting a bit harder to hide all this from my mom.”

The doctor had been clear that her heart was weak, and stress was something to avoid at all costs. 

And seeing her daughter hundreds of meters in the air like it is the most natural thing in the world would probably make her heart implode.

So you lied.

You sigh, “She already worries enough. I do not want to make it worse.”

For a moment, Nolan does not respond. He just watches you as his shoulders drop slightly.

“I see,” he says at last, voice low like he’s choosing his words carefully

He looks past you for a moment, toward the horizon, then back again. “You are doing the right thing by being cautious with her. Humans are delicate.”

Human.

Something you no longer were. Not 100% at least.

Nolan moves before you fully register it, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder. Then he pulls you into quick side hug.

“C’mon,” he says, voice easing back into something lighter. “You must have built up an appetite.”

You let out a small laugh “Yeah, I’m starving”

“Let’s go down for dinner, huh?” he hums letting you go. “You and Mark can go grab your mom and bring her over.”

You grin as you picture it immediately. The Graysons dinning table, the smell of food drifting through the kitchen.

Your mom sitting next to Debbie and Nolan laughing, enjoying herself as you try to force Mark to eat all your tomatoes without either mother noticing.

Nolan starts to drift downward, expecting you to follow and of course, you do.

Like always Mark is already waiting.

The moment he sees you, his face lights up with excitement like a cute puppy after being left home alone all day.

“There you are,” he says as he reaches up without hesitation.

His hand finds yours mid way steadying you as you drop the last bit of distance.

A little tradition now that he’s done every single time without fail. Like he is responsible for making sure you land safely even though you are both very aware you can absolutely handle yourself.

His eyes flick over you quickly with curiosity. “Did my Dad show you anything new?”

Behind him, Nolan lands a moment later. He takes one look at the two of you and he chuckles.

“Mark,” Nolan says, voice calm but distinctly entertained, “don’t hog her too long.”

Mark tenses, his cheeks flushing as he snaps his gaze to his father. “I’m not hogging anyone.”

Nolan’s eyebrow lifts just slightly. “You are physically attached to her.”

“I’m just holding her hand!” Mark snaps back a bit too defensively making you giggle. Which earns you a betrayed look from your boyfriend.

Nolan lets out a quiet hum that is very clearly a suppressed laugh. “Mhmm. Sure son”

Mark pulls back a fraction, give him a look that your pretend not to see. “Dad.”

Nolan turns as he laughs heading toward the house, you see Debbie moving around in the kitchen clearly his next target.

“Just make sure to have her mom over here,” he adds lightly over his shoulder. “Don’t want to eat cold dinner.”

Mark exhales through his nose, still holding your hand. “Yeah, yeah, we’re going.”

Nolan pauses after he opens the sliding door, glancing back at the two of you. His eyes flick briefly to your joined hands, then to Mark’s face and the corner of his mouth lifts again.

“Good,” he says simply, and steps inside sitting the door behind him.

Mark exhales through his nose closing his eyes cheeks still adorably red. He glances at the house then looks back at you, expression shifting into something more openly pouty.

“So,” he says, squeezing your hand lightly like he is trying to reclaim your attention fully, “did you learn anything new?”

He tilts his head. “I tried to watch, but you guys went way too high.” His mouth twists a little. “Could barely see anything. Kinda unfair, actually.”

“No, nothing new,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Just worked on some turns.”

“Coo;, cool…,” he hums, looking at your held hands.

“Yeah.” You squeeze his hands back, “very cool”

You gently tug toward the back gate, and he follows, stepping out of the and into the street.

The two of you fall into easy conversation as you walk, words drifting between plans for the after dinner, little jokes, and cheesy flirting.

After a few steps, Mark goes a bit quieter. Watching you fondly as you laugh a lil too hard at your own joke.

“Hey…” he blurts abruptly, “can I steal you for a bit later?”

You glance at him, curious but interested. “Steal me?”

He scratches the back of his neck, a sheepishly look crossing his face as he avoids eye contact. “Yeah. Like… just us. A date or something.”

It comes out rushed, like he is worried it might sound stupid. “We just… haven’t really hung out properly in a while. Since Dad started training you more and stuff. I miss you, I guess.”

Your expression softens immediately.

“Yeah,” you smile leaning to catch his gaze, his eyes meet yours and you watch the worry bleed into affection “Of course. I’d love to.”

He grins and before you can even reach the front door keypad, he stops you making you face him and kisses you softly,

When he pulls back, he is still smiling, “Yeah, okay,” he tilts his head “it’s a date.”

You give him a flustered laugh and gently push him back by the shoulders.

“Ugh,” you mutter fondly, trying and failing to sound normal as you turn back toward the door. “Enough kissing, my mom can probably see on the ring camera.”

Mark just laughs, clearly pleased with himself, and follows right behind you.

You punch in the passcode and the keypad beeping softly before the lock clicks open. Mark reaches past you to put the door open, and the smell of home drifts out to meet you.

“Mom?” you call as you step inside.

Your voice echoes lightly through the hallway. Walls framed with pictures of you throughout the years.

Some alone, many with your cheek pressed close to your mom’s and even a few embarrassing ones with Mark.

You get no answer to your call. Which isn’t out of the ordinary at this point.

You try again, a little louder this time. “Mom?”

…

Still nothing.

You exhale, shoulders dropping slightly as you glance back at Mark.

“She’s probably just sleeping,” you say, kicking off your shoes near the entrance. “Let me go wake her. I’ll be right back with her.”

“Gotcha” Mark nods. “Call me if you need help getting her down the stairs or anything”

You give him a grateful smile and an acknowledging hum as you make your way up the stairs.

You were excited to have dinner with the Graysons and your mom. You guys were basically one family at this point. They were always there for you two afterall.

When your mom’s health first started to decline Debbie was right there. Taking you in when your mom had appointments and over night stays at hospitals.

She’d do your hair when your mom’s hands trembled too hard to hold a comb. Letting your mom talk to you with sweet stories while she worked through knots.

Nolan filled in any gap not having a father left you. Carrying you on his shoulders to reacher higher than you could ever on your own.

And of course there was Mark. Always by your side no matter the Nonesense you’d drag him into.

You sigh reaching the top of the stairs. The house feels… off with each step you take. When you reach her room, the door is slightly open.

“Mom?” you say again as you push it open

The room is dim, curtains pulled closed only letting in a sliver of light. She is in bed, back turned toward you curled into herself.

On the nightstand, you notice her open medication bottle, a glass of water half-finished beside it.

Right. A small wave of relief moves through you as you step inside. The doctor said the meds could make her drowsy. She probably took them and drifted off.

You smile a little to yourself, careful not to make too much noise as you move closer, reaching for the bottle to close it properly.

Your fingers brush the label as you turn it, a force of habit taking over. You always wanted to to stay up to date on her treatments and progress.

A bit of guilt fills you, you hadn’t been the most attentive as of late with your new powers but she never complained.

If anything you knew she was happy that you weren’t waiting foot and hand for her.

You sigh taking a moment to clear the nightstand to give her a few more moments of rest before turning back to her.

You reach out and gently rub her arm, the same way she used to wake you when you were younger.

“Hey,” you murmur. “We’re going to the Graysons’ for dinner, remember?”

You wait for the familiar half-awake grumble she makes when she is being pulled out of sleep when she really doesn’t want to.

But nothing comes. Her arm stays exactly where it is beneath your hand. The silence is wrong in a way that makes your skin crawl and nausea build in your throat. 

Your hand pauses mid-rub.

“Mom, come on,” you say, forcing a small laugh. “You’re gonna sleep through everything if you keep–”

The words cut off before you finish them when you pull her onto her back so you can see her face properly.

Her face is there, peaceful in a way you haven’t seen in a long time, even during sleep. There is no tension in her expression at all, none of the usual faint lines of exhaustion that you are used to seeing.

Your eyes flick down next, and that is when the feeling in your chest drops sharply.

Her chest is not moving.

You stare, unblinking, waiting for your eyes to start working properly.

Nothing happens.

You try to breathe in, and it catches halfway like your lungs forgot what they are supposed to do.

Your fingers dig into the blanket at her side, then her shoulder, harder this time as you try to grasp reality. 

You shake her once, small at first, then again, stronger.

“Mom– no, no, no, wake up– please, please, wake up–”

Your strength gives out all at once, your knees give out, and you all but collapse forward into her.

Your forehead presses against her shoulder as the sob breaks fully loose.

The sound is ugly and painful, almost loud enough to cover the sound of feet stomping up the stairs in panic. 

The doorframe fills behind you.

Mark stands there his brain refuses to process what he sees but it catches up all at once.

“Hey– shit– hey, what’s going on?!” His voice cracks with panic.

He crosses the room fast, almost stumbling as he drops to his knees beside you. His hands come out instinctively, reaching for you.

“Look at me,” he whispers “Come on, move back a bit… just- just let me look please.”

You don’t move. You can’t.

Mark tries again. “Hey... Please, c’mon—“

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head your face pressed against her. Her too grows damp under your face.

Mark freezes, and you feel him shift anxiously, leaning closer to peer at your mom before he exhales shakily.

“Okay,” he says kissing his teeth in stress. His hand stays on you, but he stops trying to pull you away. “Okay, okay.—”

“I’ll call my parents,” he murmurs more to himself, already fumbling for his phone, eyes still flicking between you and your mom. “They’ll know what to do– we’ll get your mom to the hospital, okay? She’ll be okay–”

But his voice and everything else in the world fade into something muffled and far away.

All you can hear is the silence where her heartbeat should be.

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