Just Another Day at the Office (Septiplier AU)

Kitchens are like fortresses of solitude...with coffee

Mark has never had super speed but he didn't need it. He's always been a natural at getting ready in a short amount of time. The majority of our relationship has been him waiting fully clothed and hungry while I still race around looking for my glasses, or my other shoe. His grumbles would echo through the hallway as I yell out apologies. If it wasn't for me I'm fairly certain that he would always be at least twenty minutes early.

Today is a different situation as I stand awkwardly in our kitchen. The third cup of black coffee just as unneeded as the first and second. Mark is, as best as I can tell, still in the shower. His delay tactics are no where near as fine tuned as mine.

"Mark? You still doing okay?"

The water is still running, and I consider opening the bathroom door. We're supposed to be heading to the training facility within the next hour, and part of me is really worried that Mark will still be shampooing his hair by then.

"Yeah," he mutters back. "Just...need another couple..."

His deep voice trails off and I nod my head at no one. Another sip of coffee hits my throat and at this point I really am just drinking it to give myself something to do with my hands. What I want to do is hold him. Tell him that everything will be okay, and have him really believe me.

Easier said than done.

Heading back to the kitchen, I pull out my phone and sigh at the first news article that blinks up on my screen. There Mark is, looking as casually handsome as only he can look. The smile on his lips somewhat softer than I am used to seeing, but that has to be due to him being taken by surprise while he was leaving Headquarters. The headline above the picture echoing what we have both been dealing with since the announcement was officially made:

Darkfire slated to be first to undergo Supervillian Rehabilitation Initiative!

The article underneath it is fairly neutral, which is nice to see. Bringing up valid points about nature versus nurture, but overall has the air of careful optimism. Thankfully the "fireball incident" as both Mark and I call it now was whispered about, but nothing concrete for reporters to go on. Our kitchen still smells faintly of burning plastic garbage can even now.

"Hey, is there any coffee left?"

His tone is so shaky that I almost wonder what in the world is actually keeping him upright. The dark hair still a little damp from the hour long shower. Per our instructions Mark is wearing loose fitting clothing, and in the small duffel bag in his right hand is his villain suit.

"Yeah, I think there enough for another cup," I reply as I get up. "Not usually one for coffee, babe. Did you and your love affair with green tea hit a rough patch?"

He chuckles at my joke, and even though his face is strained it helps to hear his laugh. It'll always be one of the most extraordinary things about him.

"Not a rough patch," he sighs. Then he allows me to place a large cup of black coffee into his hands. "Just think I need something a little stronger for today."

"Need me to warm that - "

He quirks and eyebrow and I laugh. Within a moment there is a slight red glow from his palms and the lukewarm coffee has been heated well, and he swigs it down like it's bitter medicine. I wince for him. He hates black coffee.

Our meeting at the facility isn't for another hour, but there is nothing useful to do in the house that won't cause us to be late. So, instead we do what we usually do in the mornings when I somehow am able to wake up before noon, and if Mark has already finished any early day errands or chores. We sit at the kitchen table, both as close as we can be to each other and checking our phones for important emails and messages.

"I had a dream last night about the night we met," I mention, and the dark brown eyes look up from the lit screen to give me a curious expression.

"You mean at the Superhero Singles...was it a mixer? Is mixer even a real word?"

I snort and put down my phone.

"Yes to both questions. Robin had asked me some questions about how we met. Well, he knows how we met, but I think it was more for some background information regarding SRI. Nothing too invasive."

I added the last part quickly at the concerned look on his face. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all.

"Did Robin ask about Jasper?"

The name threw me for a moment, until I recalled that was the name of Mark's - ex? No, ex wasn't quite the right term for him. Jasper Hamps was more of a supervillian-with-benefits type of person.

"No, and even if he did...you had no control over what he did, babe. He tricked you just as much as anyone - "

"Please, Jack, don't patronize me. The Earthquaker was evil to the fucking core and used sex and my own stupid desire to prove my powers to cause me to be the reason why shit like public enemy and psychopath to be connected to my name. Both of my names. Have you seen the article that 'Capes by Day' wrote about me? They even hinted at a follow up piece with my older brother!"

He's so close to screaming at me that I buckle, and the red flicker in his eyes isn't helping at all. He breathes, and slowly is able to maintain his self control.

"I'm..I'm sorry, Jack," he cries, face buried in his hands and slumped over in the chair in our small kitchen. "It's.."

Mark isn't someone who shows fear. He's the one who sighs and picks up bugs in napkins while I'm screeching like a banshee on the other side of the house. He's the one who checks out noises that absolutely was probably a stray cat but one of us should check it just to 100% sure confirm that it definitely was a cat and not a sharped fanged monster who has come to eat the souls of superheroes on their day off.

"I'm scared," he says finally. Almost apologetically. "What if I can't be what everyone needs me to be?"

Such a question to ask, and as usual I can't provide any answer but a hug and an I love you. It seems at least for now that's enough, and sooner than we want, it's time to head out to get Mark's powers hopefully under control.