Notes: I felt like the Spawn TV series ended too abruptly, or more precisely, didn't really end at all. So consider this my version of some extra scenes I feel would have wrapped things up a bit better. The majority of this was written years ago, back when Spawn actually was still on TV. And I've never followed the comic. So you can imagine my surprise at how similar my storyline is to the comic. As the comic storyline was published first, I can offer no proof that my concept was in no way inspired by that, save for the facts that I make no money from mine, and I suspect it won't even be popular around here, so what incentive could I have to copy?

Offspring

A Spawn (Animated Series) Fanfic by

Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)

"I have come to a rather shocking conclusion, Wanda: you and your family aren't crazy."

"Somehow, I feel like I should get a second opinion."

They both laughed, and it was comfortable, but the woman seated across from Wanda Blake could not help wondering if that was an act. Dr. Cindy Ramirez had been Wanda's best friend back in high school. They'd largely lost touch over the years, staying in sporadic contact with a phone call here and there. Cindy hadn't been offended: most people didn't like to admit they were friends with a psychiatrist. It tended to summon up the wrong impression, consistently. Technically, Wanda was not her patient even now, and Cindy wasn't being paid for her time. They were just two women talking: Wanda because she needed to, and Cindy out of the simple desire to help an old friend.

Wanda's initial problems had arisen in her first marriage. The husband at the time, Al Simmons, had been a military man through and through. While there was no question that he'd been Wanda's soulmate, they had been two people with two drastically different lives, and clashes had been inevitable. Al's problems had ended with his unexpected death, but that had only signalled the start of Wanda's issues. She later married Al's best friend, Terry Fitzgerald, and had a beautiful little girl with him. Terry was a good man, but he, too, had a stressful job, and the pressure had taken its toll on the family. There were so many parallels between he and Al that it was easy to see how Wanda had fallen for him. It was also easy to see that they were headed down the same dark path as Wanda and Al had been, though for admittedly different reasons.

"We laugh, but I am serious. You and your family have been through a lot, you in particular, Wanda. Don't get me wrong, I've helped people with more issues, but you have to admit that what you've been going through isn't exactly typical."

Wanda smiled bitterly. "I don't think I could keep living here if little girls being kidnapped ever became typical, Cindy. We even considered moving, after we got Cyan back. But we ultimately decided that she needed stability more than ever, and dragging her to a new home wasn't a good idea."

Cindy smiled. "For what it's worth, I think that was a good call. As you know, Cyan and I have been talking quite a bit lately. I have to say, she really doesn't give the impression of having been a kidnap victim."

Wanda sighed deeply. "The police all agreed that was because she was saved before Billy Kincaid was able to harm her in any way. They feel very certain with what he was into, if he had done anything to her, it would be immediately obvious. Cyan says she spent most of her time with him just being scared and blindfolded."

"And then she was saved," Cindy remarked.

"And then she was saved," Wanda agreed with some reluctance, perhaps able to sense where the conversation was headed.

"I talked at length with Cyan about the man who saved her."

"That makes two of us, then. I hope you have a better idea what to make of him than I do."

"I had her draw some pictures for me, but we can get to those later. Why don't we start with the facts of the case? Cyan was kidnapped, but she was saved shortly after and returned to you unharmed. The person who saved her also gave her your late husband's wedding ring, or at least a convincing-"

"It's Al's ring," Wanda interrupted. "Believe me, I checked."

Cindy blinked slowly. "I see. And you also told me that Al was buried with his ring on. So I think that leaves us with only two logical possibilities. First, someone broke into his grave and took his ring. This same person, possibly suffering a crisis of conscience, then turned around and saved Cyan. Sounds crazy, but the other idea is that someone else somehow obtained the ring from the first person, and then saved Cyan. What do you think?"

"Terry and I both agreed there should never be a need to dig up Al's body. So even if that ring did come from his grave, we don't want to confirm it, not that way."

"I agree. But somehow, I think you're considering a third possibility. Am I right? When you first saw that ring in Cyan's hand, and she told you what happened, what was your first reaction?"

"...that Al was watching over us," Wanda admitted softly. "That he saved Cyan and brought her home to us."

"Don't worry, Wanda. That is a normal thought, even now that you've had time to think it over. If Al were here, don't you think he'd want to help your family? Don't you think he'd bring Cyan back to you if he could?"

"I wish I could be so certain, Cindy. Al and I, we were never able to have children. If he were to walk in here right now, alive and well, I don't know that he'd be happy to see me. I'm married to his best friend. To Al, I really think Cyan would be the child I should have had with him. I don't believe he'd ever hurt her, Al wasn't that kind of man. But I'd be far more afraid that he might want to keep Cyan. She'd be safe with him, maybe even happy eventually, but the thought of never seeing her again kills me."

"That uncertainty, Wanda. I think that's why this idea that Al saved Cyan won't go away. You aren't sure that he'd be happy with the state of your life now."

"It isn't just me who thought that way, Cindy. Terry was there when Cyan showed me the ring. And Cyan, she insists 'the sad man' who saved her looked nothing like a police officer."

"Which leads me something we never discussed: does Cyan have any idea who Al was? Have you ever mentioned him to her?"

"Well, yes. I've done my best to move on, but we still have photo albums. Cyan was so young the first time she saw him, but I felt it was important that I not try to hide Al, like he was something to be ashamed of."

"Then she knows that he died?"

"Cyan has never had any real experience with death. I'm not sure she fully understands that people can die, yet. I told her that Al went to Heaven, and I think she understood that he wouldn't be coming back. Of course, now she probably thinks I was wrong about that."

"I wouldn't say that. There's a reason I asked if Cyan knew who Al was. From what I can tell, she in no way connects the man who saved her with Al."

"I'm not surprised. Cindy, she's a little girl, and she was scared. I wouldn't expect her to connect two men she'd never met before."

"But you have, and you did. You said this masked man has appeared to you more than once, even called your name. You said you could feel Al's presence in your life. Are you saying these two things are in no way connected?"

"I don't know what I'm saying. But Al coming back from the dead to save Cyan, that's supposed to make sense?"

"Maybe that's not precisely why he would have come back. Maybe saving Cyan was just something he felt he needed to do while he was here, out of love for you. Maybe he just wanted to be a hero again, if only for you. Maybe he's sad because he knows he can't be with you anymore, and it's the desperate act of a man who still craves your acceptance and forgiveness."

Wanda shook her head. "I forgave Al a long time ago. And even if I hadn't, the man I knew wouldn't have used Cyan that way. He didn't bring her to me himself, and he didn't hold her hostage. He simply let her come to me."

"My guess is the masked man knew how you and everyone else would have reacted if he'd emerged from the alley holding Cyan. You would have been horrified and assumed he was the kidnapper, and the police might have shot him on sight. Wasn't that the most likely result?"

"Yes," Wanda admitted. "But that creature was so horrible. You didn't see the things it did to people. It just... broke them and tore them apart, like they were nothing."

"I imagine that is pretty terrifying. But I'm going to pose a scenario to you, Wanda, and I want you to really listen to me. Suppose Al did come back from the dead somehow. Suppose he was given a brand new body, since the old one was beyond repair after five years. So he's walking around in this body, that either looks exactly like him, or nothing at all like him. He sees that you've moved on, and it pains him. He takes his frustration out on the low-lives and bottom-feeders, not because they deserve it, but because he has no real reason to contain his rage any longer. He hides his identity, either fearing someone may trace him to you, or simply wanting to move around without people asking how he was alive again. He tries to approach you, but his appearance scares you so badly that you don't even recognize him. So he communicates the only way he can without scaring you further: he gives you Cyan back, and he gives her his ring, the most treasured possession he still has, so you'll know he's around."

"Do you actually believe any of that, Cindy?"

Cindy shrugged. "I may be a therapist, but I like to think outside of the box occasionally. I'm just asking that you keep your mind open. Thinking in absolutes won't help you here. At the very least, someone wanted you to think Al was back. Whether or not that someone was actually Al is something you have to decide for yourself. But I think it's safe to say you've got an angel on your shoulder."

Ten minutes later, Wanda took a deep, cleansing breath, and slowly backed her car out of the parking garage. Cindy was the kind of therapist she would have gladly paid to see, and the kind of friend who could be trusted to keep things to herself. The sessions always left Wanda feeling exposed but hopeful.

They had not discussed the abortion yet. Wanda desperately hoped this was becaue Cindy simply didn't know about it. So often she was afraid that another woman would read it in her face, her eyes, the way she moved. Granny Blake certainly had, but she had promised never to tell anyone. It was a secret the old woman would hopefully take to the grave.

The fight that night began over the wedding ring.

Wanda had kept it, of course. How could she not have? When Cyan had been kidnapped, only to be returned to them unharmed with the ring in hand, Wanda had honestly not known what to think. Even when Cyan had, for weeks afterward, insisted that "the sad man" who saved her had given her the ring, and that he hadn't been a police officer, Wanda had not breathed a word of her suspicions to Terry.

And really, what could Wanda have said? That her late husband had come back from the dead to bring a daughter that wasn't his safely home? That her marriage to Terry was most likely the reason for Al's sadness? Wanda firmly believed that she and Terry had honored Al's memory as best they could, under the circumstances. Al would have wanted her to be taken care of, and he would have trusted Terry to do it. True, he probably wouldn't have counted on them falling in love, but Terry was a good man, and most importantly, he had understood and shared her need to both honor Al, and to move on.

But the ring had remained, hidden away in tiny box at the bottom of Wanda's closet. Terry never looked back there, and Cyan would have made far too much noise trying to get into it. Wanda had hoped that the matter would be over and done with.

And then, Cyan had innocently asked if she could have the ring back. The way she saw it, the ring had been given to her as a gift, and she simply wanted it to better the remember the man who had saved her. Wanda found she could not deny the request, and in a way, felt Cyan had relieved her of a burden. She hadn't really known what to do with the ring, but the idea of getting rid of it had never even occurred to her. She surrendered the ring to her daughter, but with a firm promise that Cyan would never lose it.

She'd had to explain her reasoning to Terry, though.

Predictably, he'd been upset that she hadn't said anything, though not for the reason she first assumed. As it turned out, Terry had more than few close calls himself, and more than once got the feeling that someone was watching his back, though with little or no regard to law or decency. It was the sort of thing Al would have done. Not that he hadn't respected the law, but if he believed he was doing the right thing, no power on the planet would have been able to stop him. He had been that kind of man, and perhaps always would be.

Terry hadn't asked her to get rid of the ring, whatever his thoughts on the matter were. Wanda felt sure that if he had, it would have been the end of their marriage. Not because she wasn't over Al, but because the ring represented the bond she'd shared with him, and was in some ways just as important as the tombstone she visited every month. But just because Terry had allowed Cyan to keep the ring, it didn't mean he was okay with it. Wanda suspected that a little part of him died every time he saw his daughter holding his best friend's ring. Al had been like a brother to him, and she didn't need to be a mind reader to know that guilt ate at Terry late at night, when he was supposedly sleeping next to her.

That guilt, more than anything, was how Wanda had known the difference.

When things were at their worst, they'd found a way to worsen still. Terry had been hunted from all directions, wanted either for being a traitor, a killer, or both. Threats had been made on all of them, and Wanda had taken to leaving Cyan with Granny. Terry had changed, rapidly becoming an unpredictable, frightening stranger to them, and had stormed out over Wanda's refusal to bring Cyan home.

And then Terry had come to her that night. Only it hadn't been him.

There had been something when he'd first touched her: the charged feel of his skin against hers, the burning need in his eyes, the desperate tremor in his voice. It had been Terry, but it hadn't been him. She should have known then. But Wanda had wanted so strongly to believe that her husband was still the man she'd married, that their life wasn't falling apart, that she hadn't dishonored Al's memory by marrying his best friend. So she'd ignored the voice in her head that told her that the moment was all so very wrong.

They'd made love. Whoever the man had been, he'd worn Terry's face and body, spoken with his voice. But never had she felt that he was a stranger, or that he hadn't loved her. Only that he wasn't Terry. If anything, since she and Terry hadn't been intimate for Weeks before, it was the most loved she'd felt in some time.

But after, when she awoke to find herself alone, there had only been that awful, unbearable chill in her belly. She had known, without needing to be tested, that there was a child growing within her, just as she'd known that Terry would know it wasn't his, and not even his devotion to Cyan would have been able to save their marriage from the resulting damage.

The choice to have an abortion was easier than Wanda had feared. She'd felt no connection to the child as she had with Cyan. There had only been the inescapable fear that something alien was within her. She had only told Granny, or rather Granny would have known before long, anyway. She always saw what others did not allow themselves to.

For months afterward, Wanda dreamed of the lost child, though was still unable to think of it as actually being hers. It was clear to everyone that something was bothering her. So many times Terry asked what he'd done wrong, and always she had been unable to say, "You weren't there." Cyan would ask if anything was wrong, and Wanda would always kiss her and say, "It's nothing you did, sweetie. Don't worry about it."

Terry hadn't even tried to fight when she abruptly suggested adopting a child a few nights after Cyan's tenth birthday. He'd been afraid for so long that she was planning to leave him, and being presented with a chance to grant her innermost desire was something he'd jumped at immediately. A year later, they welcomed Matthew Albert Fitzgerald into their home.

He was, unmistakably and forever, Al's child. Wanda knew it the moment she laid eyes on him, and Terry seemed to sense it as well. They had fought, loudly and often, over the boy's name. Terry refused to allow any of his children's first names to be any variation of Al. What he was afraid of, he hadn't said, but he'd clearly felt strongly about it. Wanda felt that they had avoided the issue for too long, and that giving Al's name to one of the kids could only help them address the elephant in the room that was their marriage. She only got him to agree by conceding that the boy's first name come from Terry's paternal grandfather. It didn't hurt that it was a Biblical name as well.

Still, the battle lines were drawn. Terry would only call their son Matthew. Wanda called him Mattie. Cyan, for no reason that anyone dared to guess at, called him Albie. Even odder, the boy seemed to prefer Cyan's name for him, and Cyan herself, before all others. It was not so much that he was cold to anyone else, so much as it was that he only seemed to care about Cyan. It was odd to hold this against him, because Cyan adored him back, but the boy just did not display any attachment to his new parents. Wanda feared this was because he somehow knew she had given him up, and she couldn't blame him.

First she had left his father, and then she had left him. How could he ever forgive her? Would he ever even want to?

For Cyan, the tree in the backyard was the perfect companion. It was tall enough to provide shade, sturdy enough to support the treehouse that her parents had built into it, and yet small enough where she no longer needed supervision to climb it.

Albie was another story, but so long as Cyan was with him, their mother limited herself to watching from the kitchen window, as she was now.

Cyan was surprised at how quickly she'd gotten used to having another kid in the house. It helped that Albie had been adopted, which meant by the time he'd arrived, he was already walking and knew enough not to mess himself on purpose. Cyan personally felt that was crucial to a good first impression, especially if you were meeting your new big sister for the first time.

Albie was more or less a perfect little brother, and always had been. He was quiet most of the time, didn't demand much attention, and generally did whatever Cyan told him to. The latter got him in trouble from time to time, but he never told on her, not even when threatened with no TV for a night. Cyan made sure to give him a big, wet kiss on those occasions. It wasn't exactly the same as TV, but Albie seemed to like them well enough.

Sometimes, and only sometimes, Albie would cry. It was never related to anything happening around him: Albie rarely ever got hurt, and when he did, it didn't seem to bother him. But when he did cry, he sounded like a dying animal, and the neighbors frequently complained. Cyan thought it was spooky, that a kid could sound so sad. Albie never said what made him sad, no matter how many times she asked. Cyan figured if he couldn't tell her, he wouldn't say at all.

Cyan paused in her climb and glanced up. Albie was sitting on the roof of the treehouse, staring off into space. "Be careful, Albie," she said automatically, wondering when she had become so much like her mother.

Albie blinked, looked down, and smiled at her briefly, then returned to staring straight ahead.

Cyan hauled herself onto the treehouse's balcony and sat down, kicking her legs absently. Truthfully, she was bothered by the thought of her brother being sad, especially since he wouldn't reveal the cause. She liked to think that being with her made him happy, but even that did not seem to be enough.

Without warning, she felt a presence beside her, and turned her head to find Albie standing three feet away, staring at her expectantly. She hadn't even heard him drop down from the roof, and certainly would have stopped him if she'd seen him attempting that. "No jumping, Albie," she stated, trying to sound firm. "Not while we're in the tree."

He nodded, but his gaze had moved to her pocket.

"Oh, here." Cyan dug a sandwich bag filled with animal crackers out of her pocket. She passed him several crackers and took a few for herself.

Albie stuffed them into his mouth and sat down beside her, chewing slowly.

"I love you, Albie," Cyan stated. "You know that, right?"

He nodded, smiling briefly but not really looking at her. "I love you, too, Cyan."

She moved closer and slipped her arm around his shoulders. "If something bothers you, you can tell me. I'll help, whatever it is. You don't have to keep it to yourself, and you don't have to be scared. It's my job to take care of you."

Albie said nothing, but didn't resist when she pulled him closer and rested her head against his.

"I'll always take care of you, Albie. No matter what."

"Even if," he said softly, "I don't deserve it?"

"Especially then. You can trust me."

"I do," he murmured, but Cyan could tell he was still holding something back. Whatever it was that made him sad, she wouldn't find out what it was today.

"You can tell me when you're ready, and I'll listen," she promised, giving him a peck on the cheek. "That's what big sisters are for."

"I can't tell you, Cyan. Never." He stood up and looked away from her. "But I know you'd listen if I could. That's enough. Thank you."

"Albie, wait!" she cried as he abruptly hopped over the railing and dropped out of sight. For a moment, she was certain she'd find his little body broken on the ground. But when she reached the railing herself, instead she looked down to see Albie standing on the ground, totally unharmed. "Albie?" she whispered uncertainly.

He looked up at her, and Cyan gasped. Albie's eyes were supposed to be brown. But sometimes, he got a disturbing look on his face, and they turned electric green, like they were just then.

There was a notable gap in Albie's memories. It started a few months after his conception, and picked up with him in Hell. Albie felt certain that normally, unborn babies did not end up in Hell, but he was the spawn of a Hellspawn, so perhaps the normal rules did not apply.

He didn't remember very much about it, but the important details stayed with him. He had been tortured, and had aged far faster than any child should have. And just when he had given up all hope, his father had come to save him. The Hellspawn had never said as much, and he hadn't needed to. The evil ones that held Albie prisoner had taunted the Hellspawn with the knowledge, and besides, what other reason could a Hellspawn have to save a child? The battle had been horrible, and though the Hellspawn had finally won, he hadn't counted on Albie's soul being so twisted by darkness that the boy could not exist on Earth for long before he simply gravitated back to Hell.

And so, a deal was struck: the Hellspawn would pass on his shroud, and all of its power, to his son. Though Albie would have expected the pull to Hell on his soul to be even stronger as a result, it was just the opposite: the shroud was fully devoted to its wielder now, not its maker, and represented his father's desire to protect him. But in exchange, his father had to take on a new shroud, one that he would have to make his own all over again, if he even could. Worse, he could only visit his son on Earth once a year, and then only without the protection that a shroud offered, so he would appear only as a badly burned bum on the streets. If not for Albie's shroud, he would have no chance of recognizing his own father, the first person to show him a shred of kindness.

But the torture in Hell had been effective: Albie's heart was full of hatred for nearly everything but his father, and especially for the woman that had abandoned him to this cursed fate: his own mother. There were, in fact, only two things that kept Albie from raising a hand against Wanda. The first was respect for his father. The second was love for his half-sister Cyan, the only other person he cared about. For some reason unknown to Albie, Cyan was the child of his father's heart, just as Albie was the child of his father's flesh. If his father insisted on loving Cyan when he had ample reason to resent her, Albie could do no less. But in time, Albie came to love Cyan as well: her very presence in his life was a constant reminder that his father had saved them both. Certainly the care she devoted to his father's ring was tribute enough, even if the meaning was lost on her.

Cyan was no longer afraid of the dark, but thought she would carry, as her mother claimed, "a healthy wariness of dimly lit locales" for the rest of her life. Albie, of course, had never been afraid of the dark. In fact, he preferred it to the light.

It was the same with homeless people. Albie seemed to gravitate towards them, no matter how many times Cyan had cautioned him against approaching strangers. She didn't want him to go through what she had. Albie's response was always the same: "You never know who they used to be, Cyan." Which was entirely her point, actually, only turned against her in a way that was hard to argue with.

And it wasn't that Cyan didn't like homeless people. In fact, if the majority had lived in well-lit areas and had regular access to soap, Cyan suspected that she would have liked them a great deal. But the often dark places, combined with uncertainty about who the people were, made her overly wary, especially since Albie refused to exercise any caution at all on the subject. Ordering him didn't work, and neither did begging. But the one thing Cyan would never do was walk away from her brother, even if he sought out the darkest, smelliest alley in town. She knew very well that her parents still had nightmares about her kidnapping, and she wouldn't put anyone through that a second time.

Of all the homeless people that Albie had befriended, there was only one that really stuck out in Cyan's mind. He didn't have a name, exactly, but everyone called him Colonel, so Cyan figured he had been in the military once. He was always tightly bundled in a big, mud-streaked trenchcoat, so very little of his body was actually visible. Cyan had seen his finger once, and understood: if she was that badly burned, she wouldn't go showing it off, either.

Sometimes Colonel asked to see Cyan's ring. She had been highly suspicious of that request the first time, and had only consented due to considerable coaxing from Albie. And even then, the ring never left Cyan's hand. Colonel seemed content just to look at the ring occasionally, and always cautioned Cyan to be very careful with it, which she was, anyway. She always figured the sad man would be sadder if she lost his ring, and she didn't want that.

Sometimes, and only sometimes, Cyan told Colonel about Al, and he always listened very closely when she did. Cyan had never met Al, but he had been married to her mother, before her father was. There were pictures of him at home, but most of them were put away somewhere, except the ones of Al and her father together: they had been best friends. The pictures of Al and her mother made Cyan feel odd, however, as if he perhaps could have been her father in another life. She suspected they made her parents feel the same way, and did her best not to mention Al so much. Even so, Cyan liked Al: she thought he looked handsome and tough, and since her mother had married him, then he must have been nice, too. Cyan figured that he had been so nice, in fact, that when he'd gone to Heaven, God had sent Al's ring to the sad man, and asked him to give it Cyan. Al had even put his name and her mother's on the ring, so the post office would know who it was from, and who to send it to if it ever got lost. And whenever Cyan held the ring, she would remember the nice but sad man who had saved her, and she would feel completely safe. So when she said her prayers at night, she would always say three extra ones: one for Al, one for the sad man, and one for Colonel, who could probably use all the help he could get.

The End.

Endnotes:

Let me state again that this is based on the events of the animated series, and not the comic, which, as a rule, tends to be a lot more complex and drawn out in my experience. That said, a few thoughts on Morana.

While I can certainly appreciate the appeal of Spawn having a child, even an evil one, I wouldn't have done it that way. Al and Wanda are far from perfect, and I suspect if someone really wanted to screw with Morana's head, all they had to do was let her grow up in the broken home that she would have naturally.