[Canon Mark P.O.V.]
I was nervous. Actually, "nervous" didn't even begin to cover it. I was practically vibrating out of my skin.
It had been a completely insane twenty-four hours. I had spent the day being violently dragged across the multiverse like a chew toy, literally crashed a date, got a high-caliber gun shoved right between my eyes by a very angry girlfriend, and had my dimension-hopping wounds healed in a matter of seconds.
I was slowly getting used to the shifting geometry of this 'Infinity Castle'. The endless wooden corridors and shifting tatami mats were bizarre. But right now, standing in front of this simple, sliding wooden door that led to the outside world, I couldn't help but shake. My hands were trembling.
I had been battered, bruised, and toyed with because Angstrom Levy was holding my mom and my baby brother hostage. John had confidently sworn he was going to save them, and a desperate part of my soul believed him.
But right now, I was about to walk out this door and meet this universe's version of my family.
"What are you waiting for, young man?"
I flinched violently, my shoulders hiking up to my ears as a heavy white-gloved hand clamped down onto my shoulder. I spun around to find Seb… Sir Sebas standing right behind me.
"We do not have all day," Sir Sebas said, his voice completely calm but carrying an undeniable weight.
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat feeling like sandpaper, nodded at him, turned back toward the door, placed my hand flat against the wood, and finally slid it open.
After taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the light.
The harsh glare of the morning sun was blinding. The dim lighting of the Infinity Castle had made me forget how bright the sun was. It took several long seconds of squinting and blinking for my eyes to adjust to the bright, outdoorsy environment.
But when my vision finally cleared, my brain completely short-circuited and I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Da… Dad?!"
Standing right in front of me…well, squatting actually, was Nolan Grayson. The Omni-Man. The most feared person on my planet. The man who had beaten me so badly my blood had painted a mountain red.
Except, his upper lip was bare and instead of wearing his pristine white and red Viltrumite uniform, he was wearing dirt-covered, denim overalls over what looked distinctly like... the Pope's gold-trimmed ceremonial robes? And he was currently squatting in the mud next to a thoroughly unimpressed-looking cow, carefully milking its udders directly into a tin bucket.
[Image Here]
I stuttered, my mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish as my mind desperately tried to form a cohesive thought. I actually rubbed my eyes with the back of my fists, sure I was hallucinating from blood loss, and did a double-take.
Dad or rather, this universe's version of the monster who broke me, looked up.
A look of genuine surprise washed over his moustache-less face. He instantly recognized that I wasn't his Mark. Maybe it was my shredded, blood-stained costume, or the look of trauma and shock on my pale face, but he immediately dropped the tin bucket as Milk splashed into the dirt.
A look of paternal worry crossed his face. He started to stand up, taking a tentative step toward me, wiping his hands on his overalls. "Mark? What happened to—"
"Moooo."
A flat and borderline judgmental moo from the cow was all it took to stop the mighty Viltrumite dead in his tracks.
Nolan violently snapped his head toward the bovine. The paternal worry vanished, replaced by panic as he spun on his heel and quickly bowed his head, clasping his hands together like a penitent monk. "Yes, Your Holiness! I shall clean your cow dung immediately!"
He actually dropped to his knees in the mud and started scooping the manure with his bare hands.
"Moooooo."
Dad froze again, bowing even lower until his forehead practically touched the dirt. "Yes, Your Holiness! Lavender shampoo it is! Right away!" He quickly scrambled to his feet, bolting toward a nearby hose, frantically washing his hands before flying off to retrieve what I could only presume was the requested shampoo.
'What the actual hell is happening?'
I was actively fighting the urge to slap myself across the face to wake up from this fever-dream nightmare. Then, I heard a muffled sound right beside me.
I looked over to see Sir Sebas, the stoic butler, was visibly trembling. He had a pristine white handkerchief pressed firmly over his mouth, his eyes crinkled in amusement, his broad shoulders shaking, doing his best not to burst into laughter.
But he couldn't hold it.
A booming laugh finally escaped Sir Sebas. The sound caused the cow to casually trot over toward him as it crossed her front legs gracefully, and bowed her head in a polite greeting.
Sir Sebas finally calmed down, slipping his handkerchief back into his breast pocket and gently rubbing the cow's head. "Ah, Ms. Moo. It seems you have been thoroughly enjoying the reward my Master presented you with?"
The cow just mooed in smug agreement.
While I was desperately trying to process what passed for "normal" in this reality, the back screen door of the farmhouse swung open with a loud creak.
"What is with all this commotion, Nolan? I ordered—"
"Mom?"
I recognized that voice instantly. It pierced straight to my soul, and I didn't even need to look to know it was her. I turned my head and saw Debbie Grayson standing there, wiping her hands on a floral apron. She was alive, safe, and completely untouched by Angstrom Levy's psychotic revenge. Seeing her like that, the dam completely broke.
The adrenaline, the bone-deep exhaustion and agonizing terror of leaving my real mom in Levy's clutches it all hit me like a freight train. My knees actually buckled a little.
I leapt forward, crossing the lawn in a fraction, and wrapped my arms around her. I hugged her so carefully, terrified my strength would crush her fragile frame. Still, I buried my face deeply into her shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent.
"Mom… I'm sorry…."
[A/N]:
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