Don't Call Me Son

There comes a time when you need to accept the family you have. It's a hard thing to do. Especially when the family you have isn't the family you want to have. When that family is dysfunctional and broken.

When that family hates you.

It's hard not to take it personally. To not carry a grudge.

I used to think I was the forgive and forget sort. That I could just...figure out how to get past it all. And maybe I could have, if they'd come for me. If they'd bothered to lift a finger and attempted a rescue. Something, anything, to prove they cared whether I lived or died. But they didn't, did they?

For all of their fancy names, nifty outfits, and extraordinary reputations, they really were terrible people. How else could you view a group of people blessed with such power that couldn't be bothered to save their own flesh and blood? Why was I worth less to them than a random stranger screaming across town?

When I was a kid, my parents had high expectations. The first born of a popular and extremely powerful metahuman family, all eyes were on me as I turned 5. That is when metahumans start showing signs of their powers. I turned 5 and showed no signs. They waited another year. Nothing. All the buzz died down, and instead the paparazzi started questioning my utility as a metahuman. That is when they decided to have another child - my younger brother.  

Was I defective? At a very young age the question bothered me. Why was I not like other kids? Even my own brother had shown signs of super strength - like my dad - even before he turned five. So why me? Why was I the one who was different?

As we grew, I became ostracized from my own family. They looked at me, eyes filled with hatred, disappointment and pity. I decided to withdraw from the world, even as I was bullied and beaten in school everyday. Why are you even here? They would taunt. They were right - but I didn't know why I was there at a school for aspiring heroes. There was no point in training for a power that I did not have.  

I learned to accept them for what they were the same day I learned something else: Supervillains aren't born that way, they're made that way. By life and circumstance. No one wants to be evil, they just don't want to be vulnerable and hurt any more. They learn to act against others so no one is given a chance to act against them.

Sigue was like that.

Labeled the most dangerous villain of the century, on the surface he was brutal and ruthless. Kidnapping me was evidence enough of that. He targeted me because I was weak. He waited until I was alone and defenseless and made his move. He executed his plan to perfection, grabbing me while walking home from school. His only mistake was assuming anyone cared. You can only gain leverage over an enemy if you possess something they value.

Well, my family didn't value me. They didn’t value me enough to save my life when they save hundreds every day doing their jobs. It came as a shock to us both. It's one thing to suspect, and quite another to have it confirmed.

I glared pitfully at the floor, the chains rattling around my ankle. “Well there you have it.” I spat, the ground a victim to my glare. “The great Whitlock family, savior of thousands of people, can’t be bothered to save their own son.” Tears pooled in my eyes but I furiously blinked them away, not willing to cry in front of a villain. I’m going to die here. The horrifying thought crossed my mind quickly but it was true. I was alone with a murderer, someone who killed without mercy. I looked up, my vision still blurry from tears. 

He had an odd expression on his face, twisted, a painful grimace. He reached his hand out and I flinched. He retracted his arm slowly, hands clenched into fists by his side. 

“Look, kid-” he tried.

“Carson.”

“Carson.” He corrected himself. His face twisted again and I squinted at him, trying to figure out his thoughts.

Before he could speak again, I blurted out, “If you’re going to kill me, make it quick please.” I bowed my head, surrendering myself. After all, what was the point of fighting? I had no chance. It was better to give in in the hopes of a quick death. 

“Don’t do that.” He spoke out, his voice hard. I snapped my head up quickly, only to be startled for a different reason. He had taken off his mask. No one had ever seen his face before, Sigue’s identity a carefully concealed secret. But now I watched as he set his mask aside on the ground coming closer to me. “I’m… sorry.”

My eyes widened in bewilderment. “What?” I laughed incredulously. More out of hysteria than anything. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah.” He admitted. He walked closer and I tensed, watching his movements carefully. Surprisingly, he sat down next to me, also keeping his gaze trained on the floor. I stared unwaveringly at his face, the one he had kept so carefully hidden from heroes and villains alike. He had strong facial features, arguably handsome if it wasn't for the long scar running from the corner of his mouth all the way to his ear. It looked painful. I wondered who could’ve possibly landed a hit like that on someone so powerful. “I know what it’s like being betrayed by your parents.”

I scoffed. “Yeah I’m sure you do.” I pulled my knees closer to my chest, the chains rattling. My eyes filled with tears again. I blinked furiously.

“You can cry.” I startled, turning towards Sigue. He wasn’t looking at me. “I won’t say anything.”

“You kidnapped me,” I said dryly. “You're not supposed to be nice.” He chuckled softly.

“That wasn’t personal.” He took a key from his pocket. “Here,” He said, unlocking my wrists. My ankle was still bound but I had more freedom of movement now.

“Thanks…” I said carefully, rubbing my raw wrists.

“My parents…” He hesitated. I cocked my head in confusion. His voice was slightly shaky, unlike anything I had ever heard from the fearsome villain. “They threw me out. I had a “villainous” power. They were scared. So, off to the streets I go.” My eyes were wide as I took in his story. Surprisingly, I could relate. I could relate to someone who has killed and hurt so many people. I almost laughed again, but remained silent, not wanting to break the careful air of peace between us,

“It was terrible. I was the same age as you, homeless, cold, no place to go.” He sighed. “I went to so many metas. People supposed to be heroes turned away a starving kid because of his power. Because they were scared.” He clenched his fist, and the beam next to us exploded. I jumped, watching the shrapnel drift to the ground like confetti. My mouth felt dry, going cold with fear again.

“So,” he continued, his voice carefully even. “I do know what it’s like to have shitty parents.”

I chuckled. “Well I guess that’s one way to put it.” A tense silence fell over the room, the only noise in the room was my heavy breathing. “Is that why you’re a villain?” I whispered quietly, breaking the silence. 

“Part of it.” He sighed. “When you get hurt, you hit back. When society shuns you out, you have to find a way to claw your way back to the top.”

For some reason that’s what finally made me break down, the tears filling dripping down my face. The words were harsh but in the end they were true. I was at rock bottom. How could those I had loved and admired for so long inflict such pain? Despite my desperate attempts to earn their affection, my parents remained distant, their indifference a silent condemnation of my existence. Now I knew the truth. They never cared, and they never would.

Sigue looked way out of his element, seemingly not knowing how to deal with a crying kid. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He reached out, but seemed hesitant to touch me. 

I let out a shuddering breath, it sounded more like a sob. “No, I just…” More tears fell. “I just wish my parents cared about me!”

He froze. “I mean they just left me here!” I wailed. “With you!” 

“Hey-”

“I just want them to like me. To care about me and pay attention to me for once in my life.” 

Sigue sighed. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He put a hand on my shoulder, the action strangely caring. He took the key and unlocked the shackle around my ankle. “Here. You’re free to go.” I looked at him in shock. I didn’t move. He got up to leave and walk out the door.

“You’re not going to kill me?” I asked incredulously. He turned around to look back at me. 

“I don’t kill kids.” He gave me a wry grin. “I have no need to keep you here if your parents aren’t coming. Go back to your family.”

I stared at the floor, processing. My heart still felt like it was shattering in millions of pieces, my family’s unwillingness to help their own son cutting deep. But, a new feeling was emerging beneath all the shards. Rage. How could they turn their backs on their own son, leaving him to navigate the darkness alone? The pain of abandonment morphed into a seething fury, burning hotter with each passing moment. No longer would I allow their neglect to define me.

“No.”

He squinted at me. “No?”

I stood up, drying my tears with my sleeve. “No, I’m not going back.” 

He sighed. “Don’t go to the streets, boy. It’s a tough world out there when it’s every man for himself.”

“No. I want to stay with you.” 

He laughed. “Okay, kid, now I know you-” He paused when he saw the expression on my face. “Oh. You’re serious.”

“I want to work with you.” I took a step forward. “I want to be your sidekick. My parents left me here so they’re not going to get me back.”

“You. The son of the most influential meta family of all time, wants to work with me, someone who’s killed thousands?”

“Yes.” My eyes glowed white in the pale moonlight. “They abandoned me. They have never cared about me. And now they’re going to pay. Such people don’t deserve the title of ‘hero.’”

Sigue stared at me with barely concealed bewilderment. “It’s going to be tough, kid. Your family will be gunning for your head. Every single meta in the city will be out for your blood if you work with me.”

“I want to.” I said quickly. “You… You don’t understand how much everyone hates me.” I whispered quietly. “I’ve been beaten, teased, and bullied all because of something I can’t control. I don’t want to live in a society that shuns people like me. People like us. After this… I would rather be dead, than go back to my good-for-nothing parents.”

“Well then,” He said, a hint of what seemed like pride in his tone. He wrapped a strong arm around me pulling me closer to him. “Let me show you the ropes.” As we walked, I could help but feel that this was what it was meant to be. I was never supposed to be a hero. I was never meant to confirm the expectations set out for me. No, I had a much more important path.

In the failed attempt at luring my family out from hiding Sigue had gained something: a devoted apprentice. Someone who was willing to dedicate themselves fully to furthering his goals and ambitions. Someone who would rather be with him than their own family.

Strange, I know, but I cannot stress enough how terrible it feels to be betrayed by your family. Particularly when that family possesses every ability to at least try and do something about it. So, while I had lost my family, I gained something too. This wasn't a simple case of Stockholm Syndrome. It was the first time where my effort was noticed and appreciated. Where the skills I did possess, while not superhuman, were certainly powerful when given the opportunity to be of use.

And Sigue gave me that opportunity. He let me be powerful.

Yes, my father could bend steel in his hands, but I could shoot a bullet between the eyes faster than he could crush me. My sister could fly faster than the speed of sound, but my viruses traveled at the speed of light. My mother, my dear, indifferent mother, could boil water with her eyes, but I could set the world on fire with my mind.

So many things come easily to metahumans, that they often lose sight of how the world actually works. When you are above the world, the world is beneath you. You have strength, but you lose context. Since you are powerful wherever you are, you forget that you can only be in one place at once. He taught me how to exploit that.

How to be everywhere at once.

How to harvest the data left lying about and unsecured online.

How to inflict damage without risking anything of value.

How to gain power over the powerful.

Piece by piece, we built our empire in the underworld. An unassailable bastion from which we launched our attacks. And attack we did. The metahumans had woefully under-invested in their own base. They thought no one would possibly dare to attack them from within. Proof of their narrow-minded mindset. 

We gained the power to hurt those who had hurt us. To teach the world that creating supervillains had consequences. My family immediately caught wind of my alliance with the most powerful supervillain of the decade. Immediately, without  hesitation they attempted to kill me. I was not surprised. It hurt seeing the people I once loved turn on me without even bothering to get an explanation from me. It hurt but I pushed through it. I understood what kind of people they were now. I wasn’t going to shed any more tears on them. Not anymore.

Yes, I learned to accept the family I had.

They unfortunately learned the consequences of that too late.

One supervillain is an annoyance.

Two supervillains?

Well, that's a problem.

And Sigue and his sidekick were a real problem.