The Hero I Married

By J.A. Roggie

Content Warning:

This story contains depictions of psychological trauma, intense emotional distress, physical violence, and scenes of gore. Reader discretion is advised.

The eggs crackled and popped next to the corned beef hash in the well-worn cast iron pan, releasing a mouthwatering aroma that seemed to wrap itself around the cozy kitchen like an invisible blanket. The mixture of sizzling grease, rich spices, and savory meat perfumed the air, promising a hearty breakfast and a moment of peace before the day carried them away again.

Anastasia moved with graceful urgency, the hem of her soft blue dress brushing against her calves as she turned and filled a ceramic mug with steaming coffee. She placed it precisely on the worn oak table, the slightest smile tugging at her lips.

Her dress whispered against her slender legs as she pivoted back to the stove. She scooped generous portions of eggs and hash onto a simple white plate, carefully arranging them with an instinctive, loving touch. No detail was too small when it came to Carter. Everything had to be perfect, or at least as perfect as she could make it for him.

She set the plate on the table with a satisfied nod, adjusting the silverware so it lined up just right. Her heart fluttered with familiar, almost girlish excitement as she heard his footsteps approach. Right on time.

Carter Stase. Her husband. The man who carried the weight of an entire city on his broad shoulders and still managed to smile at her like she was his whole world.

Carter stood like a man chiseled out of marble, every angle of his jawline sharp, like it had been carved with purpose by an artist who had no choice but to make perfection. His eyes were a deep, striking blue, like the calmest sky before a storm. The kind that could calm your nerves or send you spiraling into a wave of emotion with just one glance. His body was the epitome of strength, every muscle defined under the skin, but without the bulk of a bodybuilder. No, he was the perfect balance of power and agility, a form built for grace as much as might. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had just come back from a battle, or maybe a stormy night on the balcony, contemplating the world. Every inch of him seemed to scream hero, yet there was a gentleness beneath his fierce exterior. A man who could lift the world on his shoulders and still make you feel like the only person in the room.

Anastasia leaned down, her dark hair brushing his cheek as she kissed him softly. Her eyes shimmered with undeniable passion, the kind that never faded no matter how many mornings they spent together. From the very first moment she had met him, she had been utterly and irreversibly in love. He was her anchor, her champion, her everything.

“Good morning, dear,” she murmured, her voice catching slightly as a blush colored her cheeks.

Carter’s smile was the kind that could light up even the darkest corners of the world. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently before speaking.

“Good morning, Anastasia. Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice a familiar balm that soothed the invisible worries she always carried.

She laughed softly, almost shyly, as she dished up her own plate and placed it across from him. Her fingers brushed lightly over the rim of her coffee cup as she settled into her seat.

“How could I not after last night?” she said, casting him a playful glance from beneath her lashes.

Carter chuckled, the sound rich and low, and for a moment the heavy realities of the world beyond their walls disappeared.

“Will you be going out today?” Anastasia asked the question tumbling from her lips before she could stop it. Her fingers tightened briefly around her fork.

She hated asking and hated more the answer, she knew it was coming. Carter was not just a man to her. He was a symbol, a beacon. The shining hope of a city teetering constantly on the edge. Every time he left, a part of her could not help but wonder if he would return.

But she also knew better than anyone that power like his came with duty too heavy to ignore. And Carter Stase had never once turned away from it.

He nodded quietly. “Yes, I must, I’m sorry my dear. Scar Tissue has been spotted in the city. I worry he may cause some problems.”

Scar Tissue was a nightmare, a villain shrouded in mystery. No one knew his true appearance or his powers. All anyone knew was the trail of devastation he left behind: cities ransacked, lives destroyed, and victims who could remember nothing about him except how kind he seemed, right before everything went black. In his wake, survivors would sit in shock, covered in the blood of their loved ones, but unable to recall a single detail about the monster who had taken everything from them. He was dangerous. More than one hero had crossed paths with him, and each of them had suffered the same fate: unable to remember anything about their encounter.

Anastasia’s heart tightened at the thought. She didn’t like the idea of Carter, otherwise known as Everguard, the hero who meant everything to her, going after such a shadowy, dangerous foe. She sat quietly; her gaze fixed on her coffee. The dark liquid sat still in its cup, steam curling lazily from the top. Hers was decaf today. The first time she’d ever chosen it. She loved the caffeine, the warmth it gave her, the sharpness that came with each sip. But today, her thoughts were too heavy.

She wanted to tell him, to ask him to stay. Maybe sit this one out and let someone else handle Scar Tissue. But she couldn’t, not yet anyway.

She longed to tell him about the pregnancy tests she’d taken. She had to. She wanted him to know. But this wasn’t the time. He was about to face a danger that could take him from her, and she didn’t want to distract him. Not when every part of her wanted to scream for him to stay, to promise he’d come back to her.

“Are you alright, dear?” Carter asked, looking up from his coffee cup at her with a hint of curiosity.

She blushed again and nodded quickly. “Yes, of course I am. I just worry for you.”

Carter gave her his charming smile and stood, walking around the table. He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. In his deep voice he said, “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. Besides, I’m bringing backup today. Everything should go smoothly. Now then, I best be going or I’ll miss the others. Thank you for breakfast my dear.”

Anastasia stood quickly, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug before walking him to the door. One of the staff rushed over to clear the dishes. She could have had the staff cook them breakfast, but Anastasia preferred to take care of breakfast herself. She liked doing it for her husband. He deserved her attention, after all.

The two stepped out onto the porch, and Carter kissed her once more before dashing off into the sky. Anastasia folded her arms beneath her chest and watched him fly off, worry clouding her expression as he soared toward the city.

Turning back to look at their massive home, the home he had provided for them, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. They were both fortunate. The president had given them this place, paid them well, and showered them with fame for their efforts in keeping the city and country safe.

She traced her fingers along the doorframe, letting out a long, deep sigh. She hated this part. Waiting at home, wondering if he was alright.

Sighing again, she went inside and turned on the television, keeping it tuned to the news. She liked to have it on in case her husband made an appearance.

Her day passed much like any other. Her husband did not want her to work. He did not wish her to strain herself. That was why they had staff. Still, she found little things to do here and there, tasks she hoped he would not notice, just to keep herself busy.

When she was not watching a television show on her tablet or shopping, she was reading. This week’s book was a new one, an intriguing story about a shapeshifting bard. Even as she read, she kept the television on, her eyes flickering toward it every few minutes in case she missed something important. So far, there had been nothing new.

One of the staff moved quietly beside her, washing the dishes and cleaning up the remains of her earlier cooking. Anastasia set her book down and made her way to the counter, placing her empty coffee mug down for the servant to collect.

Just then, the sharp sound of breaking news filled the room.

Spinning on her heels, Anastasia turned to face the television.

"Breaking news," the anchor announced, her voice tense as she began to speak. "At this very moment, we have reports that the supervillain known as Scar Tissue is robbing Sun City Bank. Multiple hostages are confirmed to be inside with him."

Anastasia’s hand flew to her mouth as she stared at the screen in horror.

The anchor continued, her voice growing more urgent. "Just in, it seems Everguard has arrived along with Silver Tempest. Officers on the scene are telling us to back away. We are attempting to get a video feed from inside the bank."

The footage cut into a shaky video showing Everguard phasing through a wall into the bank. A moment later, Silver Tempest appeared, waving his hand. A brilliant beam of light sliced through the metal bars covering a nearby window, forcing it open.

Anastasia stood frozen, her heart pounding as she watched the scene unfold.

The crowd gathered behind the barricades, straining for a glimpse of the battle raging inside the Sun City Bank.

At first, there was only tense silence, broken by the low murmur of the reporters speaking into their microphones. Then it came, sudden and jarring, a thunderous crash that made the ground tremble beneath their feet.

Gasps rippled through the bystanders as the walls of the bank seemed to shudder. Muffled booms echoed from within, sharp cracks of gunfire or something worse. Windows rattled in their frames. A deep metallic groan vibrated the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy slamming into the marble interior.

People clutched one another as a series of ear-splitting explosions rocked the building. Sparks erupted from behind the thick stone facade.

But nobody could see what was happening inside.

Only the terrible noises told the story.

Another violent crash sent a spiderweb of cracks crawling up the bank’s front windows. Then, with a sound like the earth itself splitting, a body was hurled through the air.

Silver Tempest burst through a second-story window, the glass exploding around him in a thousand glittering shards. He flew through the open air in a limp, graceless arc. His body was soaked in blood, red staining his silver uniform until it was almost unrecognizable.

He hit the ground hard with a sickening thud that echoed down the block.

The crowd screamed.

As the horrified onlookers backed away, a heavy wet sound followed. Anastasia, frozen at her television, watched in horror as something else dropped from the broken window above.

A heart.

It hit the pavement with a dull, revolting splatter, landing just inches from Silver Tempest’s mangled body.

The reporters stumbled backward. Officers rushed forward, their guns raised, shouting orders to retreat. Sirens began to wail in the distance.

Anastasia’s hands trembled as she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. Somewhere deep inside, a cold, nauseating dread took root. She knew Carter was still in there. Alone.

The world seemed to freeze as Anastasia watched in horror. Inside the shattered bank, the battle raged on. Through the thick cloud of dust and debris, two silhouettes clashed like titans, but it was impossible to make out who was gaining the upper hand. Each brutal impact shook the air, every shuddering crash and splintering of walls causing the crowd outside to flinch.

Screams echoed from within. Terrified cries rose and fell as hostages either fought to survive or feared their final moments. Glass exploded outward, raining onto the sidewalks. The sirens wailed like some tortured beast in the background, but no one dared move. All anyone could do was watch and pray.

Then, suddenly, the thick cloud cover above the city cracked open. A radiant figure descended from the heavens. Light pooled around his form as he touched down, the sheer force of his landing cracking the pavement beneath his boots. Broad shoulders, a sculpted frame like something out of myth, and a golden aura that shimmered against the gloom.

The reporter's voice broke through the chaos, shaky but electrified with hope.

"Folks, we are very fortunate. Solarius is here to lend a hand!"

Gasps and cheers rippled through the stunned crowd. Anastasia clasped her hands tightly together against her chest, hardly daring to breathe. Solarius raised one glowing hand, his fingers spreading wide, targeting one of the battling figures inside the bank.

Anastasia’s heart nearly stopped. Was he aiming at the right one?

In a blinding instant, a concentrated beam of pure solar energy blasted from his palm. The light carved through the chaos, slamming into one of the figures. The victim was engulfed in a searing flash, their body breaking apart like brittle ash caught in a firestorm. Bones crumbled to dust, scattering across the floor of the bank.

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

Then, one by one, the people around the bank collapsed. Anastasia stumbled back and fell hard onto the cold tile. Her eyes were wide, her breath rasping in her throat. On the screen, the crowd was dropping as if some unseen force had stolen their strength. Even Solarius staggered, clutching his head in both hands, his golden aura flickering dangerously.

Anastasia gasped, struggling against the crushing weight pressing against her mind. Something was wrong.

As she fought for air, her memories began flooding back. Not the neat, orderly memories she had always known. True memories. Darker, Raw, Things she was never supposed to remember.

Things someone had taken from her and replaced them with perfect memories.

She looked down at her shaking hands, then back up at the television screen.

Her husband was gone.

The truth began to invade her mind. She was beginning to remember. Pieces that had never quite fit before snapped into a picture so horrifying she could hardly breathe.

He never existed.

At least, not in the way she had believed. Everguard existed only in everyone’s minds.

A sob ripped from her throat. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, her tears falling freely now. The man she had loved, trusted, who had kissed her forehead and promised her everything, he was Scar Tissue. The whole time. The Villain and Monster.

His power was to make people see what he wanted them to see. There was no mansion or staff. She stood in a small kitchen. In a tiny run down home. It was all an illusion.

Anastasia collapsed onto all fours, her hair falling into her face as she wept against the cold, uncaring floor.

He had tricked everyone. Sure, he had tricked her, but he had given her that perfect place, happiness, and now it was gone. It no longer existed. Even if it only ever existed in her mind.

She looked down at her stomach.

Now she was carrying his child.

Terror and sorrow twisted inside her like jagged glass. She lifted her tear-streaked face toward the television again. The cameras captured the chaos as the crowd outside the bank remembered. Horrified screams filled the air. People clutched their heads, wailed, and crumbled to the ground. They remembered watching their loved ones die at Scar Tissue’s hands. They remembered his pale, scarred face, the radiation burns marking him like a cruel brand.

And they remembered how they had been forced to love him.

Anastasia stayed where she was, broken and small against the vinal floor.

Was her love for him ever real?

Or had it been just another lie, planted in her heart like a seed that had grown into this living tree, she called love?

She didn’t have an answer to that. In fact, she may never have an answer for it.

But one thing she did know. She would not waste the life growing inside her. She would not let the sins of the father define the future of the child. She refused to raise this child, not in the shadow of Scar Tissue, but in the light Carter had pretended to offer. She would raise him to be better. To be true.

The child would be magnificent.

Sobbing, but resolute, Anastasia gathered herself. She packed quickly; her movements frantic but determined. A few essentials, some memories that were hers alone. Then, without looking back, she slipped out the door, her heart hammering in her chest.

She prayed no one would recognize her.

And somewhere deep inside her shattered soul, a flicker of hope survived. Maybe her child would have Scar Tissues Powers. Maybe this child could give her that world of happiness she lost.