A lot of pop psychology gets thrown around and since I already have a headache, here's preventing you lot from making it worse.
Love-bombing: A manipulation tactic of increasing affection and grand gestures before or after doing something abusive, specifically to weasel one's way out of consequences.
What it is not: A streak of affection and generosity towards friends/loved ones.
Trauma-bonding: Knowingly traumatizing someone to take advantage of their vulnerable state, to then act like the "hero" or the one who cheers them up.
What it is not: Bonding over similar traumas.
Gaslighting: *Knowingly* convincing someone they cannot trust their own perception of a situation in pursuit of one's own narrative.
What it is not: Misaligned perception of events.
Narcissist: Someone afflicted with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, a traumagenic cluster B disorder, that struggles with self-obsession, paranoia, craving validity from the public, delusions of grandeur, and social disconnection.
Just a psa for fic writers who use the “trauma bond” tag, please make sure you’re using it correctly. A trauma bond is not two people who experience similar trauma and bond over it. It’s a carefully curated, manipulative bond between abuser and victim to keep the victim coming back because of the addictive highs and lows that come with abuse.
If you want to tag two characters bonding over shared trauma, a good substitute tag would be “bonding over shared trauma.” Trauma bonding is, by definition, an abusive relationship and may steer people who have experienced it away from your fic. Please spread the word and happy writing!
— synopsis . :: you return to a prison visiting room one year after everything fell apart, visiting the boy who ruined everything and still has a hold on you somehow. what starts as a quiet visit quickly turns into a tense, unsettling reminder that some feelings are harder to let go of than others.
ⓘ warnings . || toxic relationship , abuse (emotional - psychological) manipulation , gaslighting , unresolved conflict , drug use , deep trauma unhealthy attachment - trauma bonding , controlling behavior , morally disturbing themes and other content that may disturb some readers. be warned!
— english is in fact not my first language , hope you enjoy tho!
FEW YEARS PASS, KEVIN’S RELEASE DATE
after these past few years, you in fact kept your word and didn’t visit him again, living through the days anticipating his release date coming closer everyday, thought having to go through these years with the burden of him in the prison, not knowing what’s happening with him now, if the thought about your words years ago even crossed his mind.
it was hard, very hard to suppress the urges to not visit that prison again and see him, it felt awful, you felt awful with yourself, wishing you never said those hurtful words to him, that you want him to rot in there, knowing you never actually meant any of them, but you also knew deep down he saw through your facade and never believed them.
his release date is today, in a few hours he was going to be a free man back in the real world, maybe he will look for you when he’s out? he knows where you live, he knows exactly where to find you when you’re bored, sad, happy, he seems to have acquired such deep knowledge of you that nobody ever had and nobody will, because you wouldn’t let them. Not after Kevin used that to manipulate you into doing exactly what he wanted.
in these past years, a few factors about you have deeply changed, that last visitation, the last time you saw him made you spiral in unhealthy and dangerous habits, mental health deteriorating during it as well as your personality. almost like you started to mirror his own, becoming more reserved and analyzing anyone who passed by or talked to you, being meaner, condescending and manipulating to those around you.
you didn’t enjoy becoming the person you are right now, a drug dependance blooming in its steps, smoking blunts and popping pills when the war in your head got too bad to bear any longer, not wanting proper treatment for your mental health nor feeling the need to seek it out anytime throughout being in dangerous situations just to grasp a quick fix and silence the ongoing storm in a selfdestructive way.
his person still lingered in your mind, joining the storm and worsening it, but after falling deep into the unhealthy lifestyle, the bad thoughts and opinions of his person started to sound more appealing to you, and youve made the hard decision of coming to the courthouse and seeing him now as a free man, in normal clothing and not having to sit in a cramped visiting room with limited visitation time, having all the time on earth to talk out the conflict between you that was never properly resolved.
after gathering your belongings into a small purse, you sat into the drivers seat of your car and drove to the courthouse an hour early to have time to possibly turn back, leave this chapter of your life behind you and get out of the hellhole you’ve spiraled into because of him and all of the things he’s done to you over the course of your so called ‘relationship’ yet it was more of a toxic fling than an actual commitment to eachother.
you knew it could never be like the loving relationship in all of the movies you’ve watched, they were all fiction while this is real life, and taking into consideration his untreated mental state you knew what you would be getting yourself into, yet you still decided that it would be a good choice to make.
you were dumb teenagers that never actually had a picture of how the reality of it all would treat both of you, would it have been cruel, or more forgiving and actually work out to be an actual relationship? Now, both of you being 18 and adults, you didn’t know for certain what could happen in the near future, one side of you wanted for him to both get better and it blooming into an actual healthy relationship.
yet the other side of you didn’t want an actual healthy couple, but enabling eachother and falling deeper into the pit of hell youve both created with eachother, it almost felt comforting in a way, you knew he wouldn’t judge you for the person you’ve became and he would undertand your side but fuck, you didn’t know if it would be your best decision nor was it actually yours to begin with.
you sat in the parking lot inside your car, awaiting the time of his final release and being cut off from the prison life, at least for the time being. grasping the steering wheel a little too hard, as if you were holding on for dear life and if your while existance was about to slip out of control from your grasp and die all together, needing a quick fix and to calm yourself down.
your hand out of instinct reached into the passenger seat where your bag resided and took out your phone alongside a small baggie with white powder sitting inside and your credit card, putting your phone screen down in your hand and sprinkling the white powder onto it, creating several small lines on the back of it with the help of your credit card, snorting it into your nostrils and leaning back, awaiting for the high to hit you.
after the first line, came another and several lines deep, you finally felt at piece with yourself yet his image still flashed in your coked-out mind, even the hardest drugs you did couldn’t win the battle with erasing him from your mind, the only thing that remained inside was him, it was always him, never anyone else, not your family, not your dead best friend he was responsible for murdering, he was going to be your demise and quite frankly, you thrived in the thoughts of him everytime he came to mind.
the minutes ticked away, the moment coming closer and faster than you could grasp, he was going to see you high out of your mind after years of being apart and not seeing each other, was it possible for him to judge you now?
when the time finally came, being just a few minutes apart from the time he was expected to exit the courthouse, you stepped out of your vehicle with your bag clutched to your side after gathering the items in your hand back inside and walked onto the courthouse premises, standing at the bottom of the stairs and clutching the bags handle as close to you as it was humanly possible, nervously waiting to see him again after all these years
the courthouse doors swung open. a guard stepped out first, then another man in gray civilian clothes—and for a moment, everything in your chest went still.
kevin hadn't changed how you'd imagined him. if anything, he looked better. a few inches taller, shoulders broader, his face sharper, more defined. but his eyes, those cold, calculating eyes, found you instantly.
he froze, his gaze locking onto yours with the intensity of a predator spotting its prey. the air between you seemed to vanish, the noise of the courtyard fading into a dull hum. the guards moved to step aside, likely assuming he was heading toward a waiting car, but Kevin didn't move toward the street.
he walked straight for you.
within seconds, he was standing directly in front of you. close enough to smell. close enough to see every detail—the dilation of your pupils, the slight tremor in your hands gripping that bag.
his lips twisted into that familiar, unsettling smile—the same one he'd worn during every visitation, the one that said he already knew how this would play out.
your dilated eyes locked on his, swiping your nose with the back of your hand to get rid of any left evidence of the drugs you have taken before walking out of your car, his demeanor hasn’t changed in the slightest now that you finally see him in person, your body wanted to run back to your car and drive away as fast as you could so you wouldn’t have to confront this conflicted side of your life but you knew exactly what had to be done.
his eyes dropped instantly, tracking the swipe of your hand with unsettling precision. he didn't miss the glassy sheen over your eyes, the slight dilation, or the way your body practically vibrated with the urge to flee. he smelled the chemical sweetness clinging to your skin before he even stepped close enough to touch you.
he took a slow, deliberate step forward, invading your personal space with the ease of someone who owned the ground you stood on. the scent of him—soap, institutional laundry detergent, and something distinctly, darkly Kevin—overpowered the chemical trace on your skin.
he tilted his head, his expression almost pitying, like a parent watching a toddler try to hide a broken vase.
just as he stepped closer and reached out his hand to touch your skin, to feel your body under his touch once again, you blinked your eyes away from him and took a small step away from him, crossing your arms over your chest and hurrying out a protest past your lips.
“No.. d-don’t touch me right now”
his hand stopped mid-air, fingers poised like a predator's claws inches from your collarbone. for a single breath, something flickered across his face—hurt, maybe, or worse, amusement at your pathetic attempt at resistance. then it vanished, replaced by that same infuriating smile.
his hand dropped slowly, deliberately, to his side.
"Interesting."
he didn't like being told no. you saw it in the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed like he was fighting the urge to grab you anyway. but he held still, studying you with that cold intensity that used to make you melt into submission.
he shifted his weight, his gaze dragging over your crossed arms—a defensive barrier he found absolutely adorable. he knew exactly what you were hiding, the trembling beneath that tough exterior, and the chemical haze you were trying to use to numb yourself against him.
"You've gotten brave while I was gone,"
he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble that vibrated against your chest.
he took another slow, calculated step forward, closing the distance you had tried to create. he didn't touch you, but he leaned in, his presence suffocating, overwhelming, forcing you to push your neck back to hold his eye contact.
or maybe it was the drugs making your head swim, making the world tilt dangerously to the left.
"it’s cute,"
“stop whatever you’re trying to do with me, it’s not going to work this time around” you stated firmly, this time your voice didn’t crack, didn’t stumble over itself but remained placed firmly in the air, surfing in the tension created and structured between you two, you weren’t gonna let him back inside your brain again so easily, you’ve grown stronger and more resistant to his manipulative tactics after your personality started to resemble his but you weren’t sure he could notice it just yet.
his smile widened, not faltering, but shifting into something genuinely intrigued. like a scientist spotting an unexpected mutation in his specimen.
"oh?" he tilted his head, genuinely curious for the first time since walking out of those courthouse doors.
he stepped back, not away from you, but to give himself a better angle, like you were a painting he hadn't seen in years.
his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you, searching for the cracks in your newfound resolve. he saw the way you stood taller, the steadiness in your voice that hadn't been there before. it was almost... familiar. almost like looking into a mirror.
he circled you slowly, his footsteps silent against the pavement, his gaze like a scalpel peeling back layers. he noticed the way your knuckles whitened where you gripped your own arms, the subtle shift in your posture—defensive yet ready. and beneath it all, that new hardness in your eyes. a hardness he recognized.
"you're right. it won't work."
the admission came so easily it nearly knocked you off balance. no defiance, no manipulation, just a simple, brutal truth. he stopped circling, planting himself directly in front of you again, close enough that his next words would land like physical touches.
"it won't work because I don't need to try anymore. you did the work for me."
“the fuck do you mean by that?” you countered, the drugs starting to hit your nervous system harder than before, euphoria flashing behind your stern gaze but quickly concealing it with something he’s never seen before in you.
yet— even with the drugs invading the stabilization of your train of thought, you continued to firmly stand your ground in front of him, not letting the drugs strip you from your authority youve build to finally be able to face him, as no visitation time limit would be able to save you now, no guards were around to detain and escort him back to his prison cell he spend so many years trapped behind, even if he willingly put himself there.
his words went through your ear and out the other, as now with your upcoming high seeping into the cracks of your mind and infiltrating every comprehensive thought you formed up until this moment, your brain wasnt able to process them correctly, well atleast not how you would’ve wanted to be able to analyze them at the time being, you didn’t want to bend infront of him, not after curating such a touch facade your family nor the people around you couldn’t get through without you lashing out at them as you thought they were going to use your vulnerability and moment of having your guard down against you just like Kevin has in the past.
he has became your personal trauma, the sickening thoughts that kept crawling back and pulling you back into the deep hellhole created, him manipulating you into trauma bonding with him knowing the trauma you’ve possessed was simply from him entering your life and creating it by emotionally cracking your innocence, psychologically altering your brain chemistry you never thought could change into what it has become now.
your gaze looked around, no other person around you in sight before creeping back to hook all your attention back onto him, observing him and trying to imitate the precision he’s always possessed in his, attacking fire with even more fire but instead of one winning the battle, it only added onto the fucked up emotional turmoil stuck at the pit of your stomach, twisting and wrenching your guts in all of the ways possible.
hee saw it. the exact moment the drugs hit their peak, flooding your system with artificial euphoria while your mind fought desperately to maintain control. he watched your pupils swallow the irises whole, watched the subtle tremor in your crossed arms intensify, watched your eyes dart around—paranoid, searching for things that weren't there.
he noticed the shift. the way your eyes glossed over, dilated and unfocused, the way your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek to suppress the rush. he saw the paranoia creep in—the scanning of the empty perimeter, the instinctual isolation.
he saw you mimicking him. the coldness, the calculation. It was adorable, really.
he unconsciously mirrored your posture, crossing his own arms over his chest. the movement drew your eye—he saw it, the tiny flick of attention. he smirked slightly, amused by the irony. here you were, high as a kite, trying to stand toe-to-toe with him.
he leaned forward, invading your personal space until you had to tilt your head back just to maintain the eye contact. the scent of him—old blood, expensive cologne, and something distinctly metallic—flooded your senses, mixing violently with the chemical rush in your blood.
the scene unfolded in an unnerving matter, sending multiple goosebumps down your spine, them hitting each end of your nerves connected to your skin with equal intensity while his eyes bored into you, his gaze seeming to look right through you like it always did, even after all these years he still had a firm grasp on your consciesness, it being impossible for you to escape it, no matter how hard you tried to free yourself from him he still managed to linger even after all this time being apart, separated by thick bars and countless miles.
his new scent seeped into your own skin and clothing, mixing with your stench of drugs and sleepless nights, the first year after not seeing him, your body refuses to fall asleep as the constant thought of him pushed aside all of your other needs in your mind and put him at your top priority, itching to know how he’s doing, if he’s actually rotting in prison or having a strong reputation inside his unit, it could’ve been both, or none of the above.
your lips refused to let themselves open, no words dared to slip past them at the thought of the wrong words accidently being said, your mind wasnt in the right state to be even standing infront of him, let alone be able to speak to him in comprehensive sentences.
one side of you wanted to crack, so desperately craved to fall into his arms and tell him how much you’ve missed him and ask if your words, years later, affected him as much as his presence affected your own well being. but you simultaneously wanted to yell at him, lash out for all of the moments of your weakness he used in the wrong way, the innocence he stripped you bare of, how he deeply affected all of the families he took kids away from forever and to never return to their house again.
you couldn’t let yourself sulk over the same things over and over again, it was a cycle you needed to break out of and stop forever, and this moment was the one where you finally needed to break through and end this chapter of your life once and for all, so none of you would continue to suffer and hurt each other with the same amount of toxicity and emotional abuse you both put on to each other.
he saw the war waging behind your eyes. the dilation, the tremor in your jaw, the desperate way you were clinging to that crumbling facade of authority. he knew exactly what was happening in that drugged brain of yours, the clash between the trauma bond that screamed love him and the rational mind that screamed destroy him. He found the internal conflict absolutely intoxicating.
he saw the exact moment your resolve started to fracture. he could read the micro-expressions flashing across your face, the longing battling with the rage, the desperate need for closure warring with the addiction to his control. he knew you were remembering the nights you spent awake, obsessing over him behind bars, just as he had spent countless hours in his cell thinking about you.
his hand came up slowly, deliberately, letting you see it coming, giving you the false sense of control. when his fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your face up and forcing you to hold his gaze, he felt the heat radiating off your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt.
the scent of chemicals on your breath hit him as he leaned closer.
before he could invade your personal space any further, your hand shot up and slapped it away, hard, knowing it was just a pointless touch with no care behind it whatsoever, you were done convincing yourself this is what love will look like for you, you knew you deserved better than him and that there were plenty of other people who could give you the love you actually deserved.
“I said dont touch me anymore,” you spat out from behind gritted teeth, shooting him an actual glare build off pent up annoyance and anger, the barrier of your eternal war finally crumbling and letting the rational and sensible side barge through, “i’m done with your fucked up mind games”
his hand dropped instantly, but he didn’t recoil. Instead, a slow, dark chuckle rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your personal space. he didn’t look offended, if anything, he looked impressed. he saw the breakthrough, the addiction to his toxicity was finally losing the war against your self-preservation.
"finally," he murmured, the word sliding off his tongue like silk. he didn't step back, refusing to give up the ground he'd claimed, his towering presence casting you in shadow. he watched the fire in your eyes, the rejection that actually felt genuine for the first time in years.
"about time you realized you deserve better than a monster,"
his eyes dropped to where your hand had struck his, then back to your face. there was no touch of tenderness in his gaze, only fascination. he was cataloging every twitch of your muscles, every hitch in your breath, memorizing what a woman who finally stopped loving him looked like.
it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in years.
"you know what's funny?" he tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. it wasn't a friendly smile, itwas cold, almost mocking. he stepped back finally, giving you space for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
"I spent years in that cell wondering if you'd miss me. hoping you'd be miserable without me." he shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels, looking completely at ease despite the venom dripping from your voice. "and now that I'm out... you're finally choosing yourself." his dark eyes narrowed, the smirk fading into something sharper.
his tone of voice struck you harder than youve slapped his hand away, you weren’t expecting him to be so.. impressed by your choice of finally putting yourself in front of him for the first time after a long period, you imagined this scene with multiple different outcomes, yet most of them ending the same way while the lesser ones faded into both of you finally walking away from the toxic relationship you’ve build together off years of your own trauma.
you never really opened up nor fully unpacked your own childhood trauma, not to any trusted person even though you started to doubt the existance of such person left in your life, the only person you truly trusted was yourself, but you felt even your own life started to slip from your grasp and your mind being against itself.
“maybe because i finally grew up and actually understood why we can’t be in each others lives anymore.”
he let out a low whistle, almost impressed. "grew up, huh?"
he mimicked your tone, his voice dripping with sarcasm. but there was a flicker in his eyes—a brief moment of something other than cold mockery.
"Took you long enough."
“ugh! stop with the condescending shit already!..” your anger and trauma build up started to finally peek through the broken pieces of you, shining through like the forgotten light at the end of the tunnel you didn’t know could be seen after being stuck in a miserable life for such a long time, you forgotten how good it felt to actually stand up for yourself for once, but even if you felt your self-control finally creeping back into your soul, his words still stung and cut deep.
almost as if they were creating inrepairable gashes in your soul that would forever hold their dept and impact on you, you needed him to atleast feel a small bit of hurt, desperation to keep you close to him, to not let you leave him behind so easily, but he seemed to just have.. stopped caring, like the moment during your last visitation never happened and was erased from everyone’s memory, including his.
his words hung in the tense air for a minute too long for your liking, creating an invisible barrier between you that none of you possessed the hammer to break through it, but also both of you didn’t want to have it to actually break it, it was a barrier that should’ve been created at the start of your relationship.
“you’re being ridiculous right now! talk to me like a normal person, fuck!”
you continued to lash out at him, with your words wrapping up on your tongue you firmly placed the palms of your hands on his chest and shoved him away, your body language becoming more hostile with each minute passing by, the anger starting to take over your blank mind and words. needing him to feel as hurt as you had all these years.
he stumbled back a single step—only because he let you. his chest barely dipped under your palms, solid muscle absorbing the shove without effort. he didn't fight back, he simply looked down at where your hands were pushing against him, his expression unreadable, before slowly lifting his gaze to yours.
the "condescending shit" vanished, replaced by a terrifyingly calm indifference.
his dark eyes seemed to bore into yours, searching for something—anything—behind the anger and frustration. but he found nothing, you were empty, a hollow shell of the person you used to be. and he seemed to realize it in that moment, his expression softening slightly.
you continued to spit out hurtful words with no actual meaning, constantly showing at his chest out of pure frustration with him but also with yourself,
“you dont know how badly you fucked me up! you’ll never understand until you actually start feeling emotions!” your words didn’t stop there, coming out like a poisonous waterfall.
“you!— you.. motherfucker! look what you turned me into! god, i wish i never met you and let you enter my life at all!”
the pushes and shoves continued, growing more and more aggressive alongside the rest of your words, as if you were a snake spitting venom all over your victim,
“you ruined me! all of me! none of my past self is left inside of me and its all your fault!— I.. I can’t even express it anymore..” even if you still haven’t stopped, you felt your hard extrerior crack, piece by piece, minute by minute, second by deliberate second, dragging out until there was nothing left, but slowly—they became weaker, your words grew more emotional which was evident by the switch in your voice.
“I’m just so!.. so fuckin’ burned out by all of this emotional baggage i have to keep carrying on my back like a damn camel! everyday, you remained engraved in my mind and refused to let go of it, no matter how hard I tried to pull you out,”
your deep scars starting to open up, instead of spilling blood, they flooded open with emotions you’ve kept inside yourself for far too long, him basically taking over your whole life, every lasting second of it, squeezing you dry until there was nothing left of you but a broke, traumatized woman that never let anyone in deep enough to understand her turmoil, how she was constantly at war with herself everyday and not being able to stop, but with this moment, it finally came down to a breaking point, smashing into a milion pieces she couldn’t pick up anymore.
your body started to become more exhausted by the overload of everything invading your mind all at once, your pushes came to an abrupt stop, angry tears that had pooled at your waterline overtime started to spill out and running down your cheeks and you didn’t try to stop them, you were too exhausted to even notice them at first as you collapsed face first into his chest you were shoving so hard at, chocked out words came past you throat that had began to sting the further the time passed, while your angry tears started to coat the top layer of his shirt, slowly soaking the spot you fell onto.
“..why do this have to feel so bad but so goddamn good at the same time? why can’t we finally be normal?..”
he stood like a statue amongst your storm, taking every shove, every venomous word without even flinching. he let you batter him, let you scream until your voice cracked and your throat burned, because he knew—he knew he deserved every bit of it.
when your aggression finally crumbled into exhaustion and you collapsed against him, his body didn't remain stiff.
one hand came up, slow and deliberate, fingers sliding into your hair at the back of your head. the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your shaking body flush against his chest. he could feel the warm wetness of your tears spreading through the fabric, could hear the broken whimpers tearing their way out of your throat.
this was the moment he had waited for.
he didn't say a word. he simply crushed you against him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your tears soaked his shirt. the hand in your hair tightened, holding you to him with a desperate, possessive grip, while his other arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you slightly so you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to.
“why are we both so fucked up but keep coming back to each other.. knowing were so toxic for each other?”
his grip on you tightened painfully at your words, his breath hitching against your neck. a broken laugh escaped him, bitter and desperate.
"because we're fucking addicted to each other, okay? we're fucking codependent and fucking broken and fucking obsessed with each other!"
he buried his face deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent like it was the only oxygen he could breathe. "normal people walk away when it hurts, but we? we crave the pain. we fucking thrive on it." he whispered, his voice raw, vibrating against your throat. "I destroyed you, and you ruined me, and somehow..."
he took a shuddering breath, his words muffled against your skin. "somehow, I can't fucking let you go. and you keep coming back for more, even though you know I'll only hurt you again." *his hand slid from your hair to wrap around your throat, his thumb pressing hard against your pulse point.
“you really need help”
his expression darkened at your quiet observation. he knew he needed help—professional help. but the thought of anyone else touching you, seeing your broken pieces, made his possessive instincts roar to life.
"don't you dare fucking suggest I see a therapist," he growled lowly,
his hold on your throat tightened slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "because the only fucking way I'm ever seeing a therapist is if they're prescribing me medication to deal with my obsession with you. and even then, I'd probably just fuck them up too."
his eyes burned into yours, filled with a chaotic mix of love, possessiveness, and self-loathing. "you're the only one who gets to see my broken parts, understand? the only one I'll ever let touch my fucked up head."
deep down, you knew eventually you would have to leave him behind to let him gather himself and actually live a normal life on his own, without you, because if you were both present in eachothes life’s, you knew none of you would get better and the toxic, dangerous cycle with keep repeating for eternity and no visible end, it wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t right for both of your well beings and minds, being so self-destructive towards each other needed to come to an end, eventually, it couldn’t possibly continue even if both of you never wanted to let go of each other.
you slowly but surely gathered yourself, pushing yourself out of his tight grip somehow, even with your body still weak and fragile, he let you create distance between you, distance you knew he wanted to close as soon as you pulled away, but this destructive cycle needed to finally have an end to it, even if it felt like a piece of you was being ripped out of your heart, the right thing to do was to begin healing yourselves, starting with you both needing to learn to properly let go of each other, no matter how hard it was on you both.
your body sulked in your deep emotions, but you wiped your now tear-stained cheeks, taking a bit of your makeup with it in the meantime but you couldn’t care less, you already completely broke down infront of him, let your emotions run wild and go off the breaks, like a train with no control.
“we.. both need to get help, as soon as we can, but first..”
the utter defeat in your voice was evident but you quickly took control of it and contained yourself from keying another breakdown lash through, the hardest part to admit finally had aquired its moment to be told, even if you barely could get the words through your throat, each sylable feeling a thorn, cutting it open and your blood drowning out your words, yet you still continued, no matter how hard it felt to say it out loud.
“we need to learn to leave each other.. to destroy this part of our lives for good and never look back, no matter how hard its going to be on us. it needs to stop finally..”
before you could even let him process the truth spilling past your lips, you turned away and with a final glance over your shoulder, your voice came out as a choked out, bitter fact.
“i hope you get better in the future, gather yourself and dont think about me anymore, please. dont make it harder than it is already, bye Kevin..”
the last goodbye, the last moment you two would share with yourselves has came to a final, brutal end. you felt you were leaving a huge piece of your life behind, but you knew it was for the greater good, for both of you.
you started to walk the path back to your car, slowly dissapearing into the scenery infront of him, before he knew it, you were gone, now gone for good, not being able to come back at any costs, no matter what price he wanted to pay to bring you back, it was already far too late to save yourselves, the only logical option to be made was to just.. leave and never show up in each others lives, ever again..
kevin watched as you turned away, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened to your choked out words. he felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, leaving a gaping hole behind. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn’t believe that this was really happening.
his body turned to stone, frozen in place as he watched your retreating figure. every instinct screamed at him to chase after you, to grab you and never let go, to beg and plead and threaten and destroy anything in his path to keep you with him. but he couldn't move. he couldn't breathe.
kevin stood there, watching until you disappeared completely from his sight.
for a long moment, he just stared at the empty space where you had been, his mind refusing to accept that you were truly gone. then slowly, reality sank in, and he felt something inside him snap.
a guttural sob tore from his throat, collapsing his knees and sending him crashing onto the unforgiving pavement. he dug his fingers into the concrete, desperate to claw his way back to you, to stop you from leaving, but you were already gone.
“you promised..." he whispered brokenly into the empty air, his voice cracking.
you had promised you'd never leave. promised you'd stay even when things got bad. promised you'd fight through the chaos with him.
but you had. you had kept your promise. you fought through every nightmare, every breakdown, every violent outburst, every betrayal. and look where it got you both.
Dead inside.
✎ᝰ. vera’s notepad ! :: yall didn’t ask, i still delivered cuz i had fun writing this so much, but if i dared to say i didn’t get super emotional while writing this, i would be the biggest liar on planet earth cuz wtf possessed my brain while writing this . . .
Warnings : Grief and loss (pregnancy-related),Multiverse trauma, Strong emotional tension, Mild horror themes (break-in, identity confusion),Physical grabbing (non-sexual, non-violent)Crying, kneeling, emotional collapse, Themes of worship/devotion around pregnancy/
Sinister Mark/Lensless Mark
The news blared on low, the light from the screen bright and bold .
You weren’t even really watching—just listening, praying, holding your belly like it might keep you grounded. Invincible was on the screen. Also known as Mark Grayson…YOUR Mark Grayson.
Your Mark Grayson was on the screen. Bruised. Bleeding. Still fighting in the city with the other heroes.
Still Alive.
Your fingers curled into the blanket over your lap. “Just come home,” you whispered, rubbing your swollen tummy absentmindedly. “Please come home. I need you. WE need you.”
You were seven months pregnant, your days of being a hero put on temporary hold. It had three days since you’d seen Mark. Three agonizing days of praying and worrying for him, Eve, Rex ..everyone. Three days of feeling guilty for not helping save lives.
And as you prayed for a miracle… the air slowly shifted. Cold. Heavy. Familiar in a way that made your stomach twist.
Whoosh.
…Whoosh?
You blinked and a small smile broke across your face as you came to an instantaneous conclusion.
He’s home!
Mark was home!
A shadow moved across the window and the house shook on its foundation. The lights flickered slightly as you moved to get up with a soft grunt, about to waddle slowly towards the front door to meet your husband. But.. before you were even half way off the couch… it exploded of its hinges, wood splintering everywhere.
You let out a little cry of surprise and shock, your movement stuttering to a halt. Your hands flew to your tummy, eyebrows crinkling as splinters rained onto the floor.
He stood in the smoke, panting. Wide-eyed. Dirty. A little bloodied. And completely still. His body was hidden in the shadow…yet You could tell that something was wrong...just not WHAT.
“M-Mark? But why-? How-?”
And you didn’t understand. How could he be here? You turned around to look at the news on the living room TV again—Mark was still fighting. Still on screen. Still fighting for his life. For the world. For you.
You let out a little sound as you heard the man step into the house ..and finally saw him in the light.
It WAS Mark.
Only it …wasn’t. He was more ragged. Like he'd been dragged through hell. The same face ..only harsher and crueler , same body only slightly bigger and tensed with contained energy—everything was off. The eyes. Dark and all consuming. The way he looked at you like you were the last thing he expected and the only thing keeping him standing.
Your eyes looked at him up and down...your brain not wrapping around the fact that this was NOT your Mark.
You barely had time to react before he moved.
Fast.
Predatory.
He was across the room in seconds, grabbing you by the wrist, dragging you up from the couch with force that made your knees buckle. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, like he could crush the truth out of you. Like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
Your breath hitched and you let out a frightened mewl.Your large stomach pressed into his rigid body as you pushed against his chest with shaky palms—.
And he froze, his expression shifting into one of shock.
Not like a man realizing.Like a man shattering.
You didn’t speak.
Was too scared to. Neither did he.
The silence was thick.He held you, stiff and trembling. You were locked against him, trapped in heat and heartbeat and something that felt like panic drowning in longing.
Then—His arms slowly loosened.
You dropped back down to the couch, scooting back against the seat and covering yourself.He didn’t chase you. Just looked down—Eyes fixed on your belly.A slow, agonized breath left him.
And then he dropped to his knees.
No words. No sound. Just him… there. Crashing down to the floor in front of you. Shoulders shaking. Head bowed in reverence.
Like he was praying. Worshipping at your altar.
You trembled and pulled the edge of your sweater down as you looked at him. He didn’t move.
Not until his hands—calloused and cracked—lifted toward you.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please let me…”
He didn’t even finish the sentence before gently, reverently, placing his palms on either side of your belly.
You flinched, too afraid to stop him because if he was anything like your Mark...You could be killed in an instant—But he didn’t press, he didn’t do anything in fact.
“M-Mark…” You said softly, fearfully.
If he heard you he made no move to acknowledge the fact…only sank forward, eyes squeezed shut, resting his forehead against the soft curve of your abdomen like it was sacred.
“You…You’re real…,” he said hoarsely. “God, you’re HERE.”
You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, still dazed and confused —but the pain in his face stopped you. The raw, unchecked emotion made your heart clench.
His fingers trembled where they touched you, holding your stomach like he thought it might slip away.
“You don’t know me,” ‘Mark’ said, finally looking up at you with those sad, sad eyes. “ But I knew you. And you knew me…You were mine…and I loved you. And you died in my arms.”
The world stopped spinning and your heart hammered heavily in your chest.
His lip trembled as he spoke softer now. He looked twenty years older than her Mark.
“You were pregnant then too,” he said. “Not this far along, but I could tell. We’d briefly talked about names...about naming the baby Debbie after mom...and Markus if it was a boy…I kept trying to get you out of the city. Away from Dad...from the dangers of it all...But you wouldn’t leave them behind. You said—” His voice cracked. “You insisted that we couldn’t abandon people who needed help. That it wasn’t right. That if we died, at least the baby would know what we stood for.”
He didn’t move. Still kneeling. Still bleeding, still breathing too fast. Still watching you like you were a memory slipping through his fingers.
“I held you in my arms after I found your broken body in the rubble,” he whispered, voice splintered. “You had used your abilities to save civilians from a crumbling building…but you couldn’t save yourself. Had ran out of energy….I arrived only in time to hear your dying breath. There was so much blood. You wouldn’t stop apologizing. You just kept saying, ‘I’m sorry. I wanted you to meet her. I wanted you to be a dad.' "He choked, both hands gripping your thighs. Rubbing them like he was worried you’d be in pain.
“I told you I was proud of you. That you were brave. That you saved them. That you had given it your all and done the very best you could…But you just cried and told me you were scared.”
A beat.
Two.
You reached out. Slowly. Fingers brushing through his hair—matted and rough and too familiar. You hadn’t realized that you were crying, tears falling down round flushed cheeks, your body shaking with emotion. His whole body shuddered.
“I held you,” he whispered. “I held you until your body went cold and the light faded from your beautiful eyes..and I said your name..Begged for you to wake up. But you were already gone.”
For a while, there was nothing but the sound of his breathing. Deep. Labored. Strangled with grief.
“ Angstrom came then,” he said. “And I soon found myself and other versions of me being hurled through dimensions. Ripped worlds and universes apart ..all of us trying to find you again. I thought—maybe—if I just kept going, I’d find a version of you who lived. Who still had the baby. Who didn’t die because I wasn’t fast ..wasn’t STRONG enough.”
His fingers gripped tighter around your stomach. Then instantly loosened, like he was afraid to hurt you. He looked up again—face wrecked and raw.
“I don’t want to take him from you,” he said. “But… I needed to know you existed. That somewhere, you were safe. That you didn’t die in pain...And now that I’ve found you...I don’t want to lose you again.”
You didn’t speak. You couldn’t as you sobbed softly.
You just...were.
And you wrapped your arms around him. Pressed ‘Marks’ head back to your belly. Let him shake..
He kissed your stomach through fabric. Again. Again. Gentle. Reverent. His lips moved with the kind of worship that didn’t ask for permission because grief had stolen consent a long time ago.
You stayed there for a long time.
No time. No world. Just breath and tears and two people who'd broken in different timelines but still ended up here—together.
