Chapter Text
It was a strategic choice not to work with children or teens or young adults or whatever. Youth was often thought to mean being illogical. Cecil had to admit that youth had little to do with it. Anyone who can do the things heroes can do is gonna end up thinking they are better than just about everyone else. That is how something like the Viltrum empire came to be.
That is how Cecil ended up constantly carrying a switch to bring Mark down. A contingency plan for each hero seemed logical. Of course they would never see it that way. Maybe because they’re young. Maybe because they’re special or whatever. Cecil flicks a coin in the air before catching it. Heads.
“It isn’t like you to leave anything up to chance.”
Cecil looks over to Donald.
“I’m probably losing it,” Cecil agrees. He flicks the coin in the air again as his other hand grips the remote. Heads. Ugh.
“That isn’t what I meant,” Donald says. The coin flips again and comes up heads again because the universe hates Cecil. “You would be sacrificing control for trust. I’ve never seen you consider it before, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”
“I didn’t realize I had requested your opinion, Donald. Get me some updates on Oliver or some shit.”
“Of course, sir,” Donald says, but Cecil thinks he hears amusement in his voice as he leaves.
Cecil looks from his place on the observation deck down to Invincible bench pressing a metric shit ton of weight. Everytime Invincible comes close to losing it means Cecil nearly shows his hand and if he shows his hand and Mark reacts poorly...
He flicks the coin in the air before catching it again. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Cecil could use Invincible’s emotional vulnerability to make him understand that this is for the best. Mark is dangerous. Mark is the most dangerous person on Earth. It’s just a fact. He checks his coin. Heads. He hopes he doesn’t regret this.
He walks down from the observation deck to the room. “I need the room. Everyone but Invincible out.”
“What do you want, Cecil?” Mark asks as he gets out from under the machine. Cecil waits until the room is empty and the door is closed.
They aren’t on the best of terms, but Cecil is helping Mark logic his way through his first kill. If he didn’t then he isn’t sure Mark would still be training and Cecil can’t afford that. He also can’t afford for Mark to decide to stop working for him. He also had a coin land on heads three times.
“You maxed out our machine again,” Cecil says.
“Yeah. That’s the goal. Isn’t it?” Mark asks.
Cecil looks to the machine and then looks back to Mark. Terrifying. Cecil has been left in charge of the most terrifying people on Earth.
“I’ll have them work on it. Let’s get lunch,” Cecil decides.
“I gotta get back to my mom and Oliver.”
“After lunch, get changed,” Cecil says.
Mark listens. Cecil is relieved because one day Mark isn’t going to listen. It feels inevitable. That’s why he has the remote.
They end up at a burger place Cecil knows Mark frequents and they sit in a booth. Cecil with coffee and Mark with food and a pop.
“You say let’s get lunch, but then you don’t order anything?” Mark asks.
Cecil sees how tired Mark looks. “You’re the one who has their calories being counted. Not me. How much are you sleeping?”
Mark shrugs. “I don’t need much sleep.”
“You need more than what you’re getting.”
“Did you just want to tell me I’m not getting enough sleep?” Mark asks.
“No,” Cecil says and takes a drink from his coffee. He is so fucked. “I need to be honest with you about something.”
“That’s a first.”
Cecil ignores the comment and instead grips the remote tightly before taking it out of his pocket and setting it on the table. “Do you know what a contingency plan is?”
“Uh—”
“I make plans for every event I can think of. I hear whispers of a concern and I make plans to shut that concern down. I don’t believe that being too proactive is a possibility. Which means: I make plans for the possibility that our heroes go rogue or decide to flip to the other side.”
“What does that remote do?” Mark asks. His food goes untouched. Cecil can’t read him. He is sure the other’s heart rate is elevated based on how tense he looks.
“It activates a chip implanted in your head that plays a frequency to immobilize you,” Cecil says plainly. “Remember Atlantis?”
“You put a chip in my brain?” Mark asks. “When?”
“After your fight with Nolan,” Cecil says. He thinks this whole honesty thing sucks.
“You… you told me that I’m not my dad. Did you even believe that?” Mark asks as a hand reaches to the back of his skull.
“I do. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be telling you about this.” Cecil says calmly. “I think we keep each other in check.”
“But you hold the button? How are we keeping each other in check if you have that?” Mark asks.
Cecil nods as he digests Mark’s point. He likes his control. Even now Mark isn’t reaching for the button. “What if someone else had it?”
“What if that person goes bad?” Mark asks.
“Thanks for assuming I won’t,” Cecil smirks. Mark glares at him, but he does grab a fry and plops it into his mouth. “What about Donald?”
“He follows your orders, doesn’t he?”
“Only to a point. Maybe another person too, but I am open to the person holding this not being me.”
“Couldn’t you just make another remote?” Mark asks.
“I could. You’ll have to trust that I won’t.”
Mark nods. “Do you have a plan for everyone else?”
“Of course I do. Checks and balances Mark. That’s what my job managing you guys is about.”
Mark nods slightly like he is starting to get it. Good. Maybe being honest isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“And you don’t think I’m my dad? I’m trying really hard not to be.”
“I don’t,” Cecil says. “People aren’t born good or bad. You aren’t destined to be like your dad, and I think you have done a lot to prove that. People who are bad aren’t losing sleep because they killed a man who threatened their family. You still see humanity in Angstrom.”
“I probably shouldn’t.”
Cecil shrugs. “Too much empathy makes it hard to listen to orders. Always seeking reason is a pain in my ass, but I am learning to accept that I can’t order you around like I was.”
“You were…”
“An agent. Never a hero,” Cecil says and Mark nods.
“Cool,” Mark decides. “I don’t know anything about you, but you know everything about me. Kinda fucked.”
“You don’t ask questions.”
“You would avoid them,” Mark scoffs as he takes a bite from his burger. “Letting anyone know anything about you is probably a weakness or something.”
“Probably,” Cecil agrees. “I don’t do anything but work. There isn’t much to know about me.”
“Depressing,” Mark decides with a mouth full of burger.
“Someone has to do it.”
They sit in silence as Mark eats and Cecil drinks his coffee. Cecil keeps his eyes trained on Mark who looks so normal outside of his costume.
“If you can do something and you don’t and then bad things happen…”
“Hm?” Cecil looks at him with an eyebrow quirked up.
“Nothing. Something Amber told me once,” Mark says. He finishes his food and crosses his arms against his chest. “Give it to Donald I guess,” he nods towards the remote.
“Sure. We can talk about it more too,” Cecil says.
“Seriously? You’re gonna start being open to talking?” Mark asks.
“Don’t make me regret it,” Cecil grumbles and lifts up the remote to put in his pocket, but Mark still eyes it.
“What if I wanted the implant removed?” Mark asks.
Cecil puts the remote back on the table. “I would want you to think about it and think about why.”
“It’s invasive,” Mark argues and his tone could very quickly unravel into a fight that ends with the implant out and Mark being left to do as he pleases and hope that his moral compass doesn’t fluctuate.
“It is,” Cecil agrees. “But it keeps you in check. If you don’t think anyone should be able to keep you in check then that is concerning, right? This is the least violent way to do it.”
“Okay,” Mark nods.
“Okay?” Cecil asks as he lifts the remote.
“Yeah. Keep me from going off the walls. That’s your job, right?”
“That part of the job isn’t a hard one I promise,” Cecil says.
***
Cecil keeps his word and gives Donald the remote even if he still thinks he’ll regret it. Mark definitely shouldn’t know who has the remote in the first place. This whole trust thing is a load of bullshit, but Mark does listen better after that. Cecil wonders if Mark thinks that they’ll activate the chip if Mark doesn’t listen. He supposes he won’t ask, whatever gets him motivated to keep training is a good thing for now.
His training results in him saving every damn hero from Doc Seismic with Eve, which Cecil couldn’t be happier about. Mark’s success ensures Cecil could keep his latest project under wraps. Especially since he isn’t sure how Mark will take to it.
“Well, for someone who saved the world you seem miserable. You don’t want to celebrate with the others?” Cecil asks in Mark’s earpiece the day after the big save. Others around Mark’s age are celebrating not being dead and Mark is training.
“No.”
Mark sounds miserable.
“What’s got you in a pissy mood?” Cecil asks.
“I’m not in a pissy mood,” Mark huffs. “And you spy on me enough that you probably know anything and everything that could be wrong with me.”
Cecil supposes that’s a fair point. He could have someone tell him what is wrong with the kid in a minute. He doesn’t though. He opts for a different approach instead. “Lunch? I’ll buy.”
“I thought you would be more concerned about me eating healthy or something,” Mark says as he picks at frys. They’re in the same booth at the same burger place.
“You need me to wipe your ass too?” Cecil asks with a scoff.
“No! Definitely not,” Mark says. He breathes out a small laugh at that. “I eat fine.”
“Good.”
“You could stand to eat more though. I don’t think I have ever seen you consume any sort of food,” Mark says and pushes the second burger he had ordered over to Cecil. Cecil had just assumed Mark was that hungry.
Cecil opens the foil wrapping and eats. It tastes better than the cocktail of supplements he normally has to keep him functioning with as little effort as possible. He does pause to take the pickles out before he resumes and the two eat in silence. Mark finishes first and looks out the window as opposed to looking at Cecil. Cecil finishes and uses a napkin to wipe his hands and face.
“What’s wrong with pickles?” Mark asks.
“Nothing. I don’t like them on my burger,” Cecil says.
“Got it,” Mark says as if he should be remembering Cecil’s burger order.
“You wanna dedicate that memory space to strategy instead?”
“What does that mean?” Mark huffs.
“You use your fists before your head sometimes.”
Mark looks like he is considering it before nodding slightly. “How do I get better at using my head?” He asks.
“I’ll work it into your training. Experienced heroes begin to consider how to avoid collateral damage and civilian casualties. You do consider it but acting on those considerations is the next logical step. You either keep the fight contained or drag them to the middle of nowhere. Easier said than done and not possible all the time, but it is nice when it does happen.”
Mark nods and the kid is definitely remembering Chicago.
“It isn’t possible all the time, Mark. The stronger you get the more often you’ll be able to keep the bad guys from causing that much destruction.”
“I want to be strong enough for that,” Mark decides.
Cecil nods. Maybe these talks of theirs are helping. Mark certainly listens more and they don’t fight as often and Cecil gets regular updates on Oliver and Debbie.
“I’ll get the lab on it—”
“You also gotta have them fix Rex’s hand again. He told me it isn’t working right. Make sure they do it right? It’s his favourite finger,” Mark grins. “And it is hard to get along with all of them when all they see is you dumping money into me and not helping them. It would be cool if they had the same amount of resources I did,” Mark shrugs.
“I’ll have them fix Rex’s hand, and I’ll…” Cecil trails off as he imagines paperwork. Mountains of paperwork. At their current level taking down a Viltrumite seems like a pipe dream, but maybe they could get there. “If you are interested in this, then I want them to spar against you so I can see where everyone is starting. Could be good training for everyone involved.”
“Okay,” Mark nods and drinks his soda.
“Good. I’ll send an email out to see who is interested. I’m sure Eve would do alright—”
“Her and I aren’t talking at the moment,” Mark grumbles.
Ah. That is why he is in a pissy mood. “Why is that?”
“I’m a moron,” Mark decides.
Cecil nods and supposes he doesn’t need to know more about it then that. He’ll probably email her anyway. He isn’t going to let drama between the two of them be the reason he loses a valuable asset. She is the only one Cecil believes could possibly take on a Viltrumite aside from Mark.
“You’ve been doing good work lately. Donald is happy with your progress which means I’m happy with your progress. If you want to take tomorrow then take it, but if training is helping with your stress then feel free to stop by. I think they are working on a machine to help increase your flight speed.”
“Really? Flying is probably my favourite thing I can do now.”
“I wouldn’t call it fun, but I wouldn’t mind getting the others that can fly training on it at some point if it works alright.”
“I’ll come test it out tomorrow,” Mark decides.
“Alright, but I mean it: your performance will improve if you have proper rest.”
“Yeah sure, do you follow that philosophy too?” Mark asks.
“I’m not bench pressing mountains,” Cecil shrugs.
“Yeah, but I don’t think people usually are all that logical when they are sleeping as little as you probably do,” Mark says. “Although maybe the lack of sleep is what is having you buy me lunch and being nicer and shit.”
“Nicer? Are we on the same planet?”
“I mean… there is a chip in my skull and you told me about it. You didn’t have to. You could have kept it hidden, and it is invasive. I would have rather been told about it before you put it in me, but I get it. You normally don’t really explain yourself. You just expect everyone to be on the same page as you, but the implant makes sense. It would be nice if you stopped assuming I would hate everything you tell me.”
“You normally do. It was quite a challenge to get you to do your job for the longest time,” Cecil says easily.
Mark nods and Cecil can see the guilt on him.
“Going to space for months at a time isn’t a treat. I get that, but—” then there is a voice in Cecil’s ear. “Now? Yeah I was just finishing up a lunch break. I’ll be right in.” He stands up and finishes his coffee. “Get some rest Mark, or I’ll have an agent hit you with a dart,” he says.
“Was that a joke? Did the Cecil Stedman just make a joke?” Mark asks. Cecil puts a hand on Mark’s shoulder.
“I mean it. Rest. Okay?”
“Sure,” Mark says and looks at his hand. Cecil removes it before heading out of the restaurant. He probably goes into an alley and immediately teleports away. Maybe it wasn’t a joke?