XXIII: Two Can Keep A Secret

"Dr. Kline? Ms. Washington is here to see you."

"Yes. Send her in," Sebastian mutters absently as he finishes reading the fine details of the document. Once he's sure of what he's agreeing on, he signs the spaces and dates it. He closes the folder then greets his visitor with a warm grin. "My dearest girl."

"Hello, Doctor."

"How are you? Are you well? Have a seat! Have a seat," he says, getting on his feet and gesturing to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. "I didn't think I'll hear from you today. Are you hungry?"

"No, sir," the blonde says, taking the seat offered to her.

"Are you sure? It's so early in the morning that I don't imagine you'd have breakfast already?"

"I haven't, but I will be meeting my sister and my mom in about an hour Downtown." The teenager smiles. "My mom wanted to spend some time with us. I just wanted to stop by to give you news."

"Oh?" Sebastian takes a seat, intrigued. "And what news can it be?"

The girl's smile turns into a smirk. "The members came back from Paris not too long ago."

"They did?" he asks, checking his watch.

"Yes."

"And how's everyone?"

"Okay. A little banged up, but they're alright."

Sebastian nods.

She grins when his gaze turns inquisitive. "It was a success. The Incapacitator is dead."

Sebastian nods again, this time leaning back on his seat as he feels the load on his shoulders lighten. He looks up at the corners of his wide office, thinking. "Unfortunate, but necessary," he muses. "How did he die?"

"They haven't said yet, but no body came back."

"Evaporated?"

She nods. "I imagine the neutralizer they used on him malfunctioned. Did the exact opposite of what it's supposed to do."

"A neutralizer?"

"A new invention Sharp created. Or at least that's what I imagine her claim would be. Actually, it's just a piece of junk that that Katrina Lee cooked up." She scoffs softly. "In her dreams. She really thinks she has what it takes to be in the League one day."

Sebastian combs through his memory bank for the name, and the search doesn't take long. "Ms. Lee's inventions are almost always perfect. Why did it malfunction?"

The girl's eyes wander toward the floor, a smirk pulling on her lips. She shrugs.

A smile slowly comes to the scientist's lips, getting his answer. He sits up, re-covers his fountain pen, and then sets the contract on his desk aside. "Does Finlay have a part in it?"

"In a way. He covered for me."

"But you did everything else?"

She nods, her eyes brimming with pride.

Sebastian chuckles. "First the tip, now this," he says. "Initiative. That's what you have. That's what you excel in! And that's what the League needs." He nods. "That initiative is what will set you apart, my dear girl. Your pathway is set."

"Really?"

"Yes! Though your mentor doesn't know of this yet, I know that if she did, she will be proud of you. You're protecting the integrity of the League – the integrity of every superhero – and there is no nobler cause than that."

The teenager grins, heart swelling from the encouragement.

"Now, are you sure your sister does not know?" Sebastian asks. "I don't mind, you know. You and Finlay had been doing these assignments for a while now, and it's been helping you with your future. If you see it fit, you can let her know."

The girl shakes her head. "No, Dr. Kline, I'm sorry. It's not a good idea," she says. "She's...She's different from me. She will not understand this."

"Why not?"

She shakes her head again. "Maybe someday. But not right now."

Sebastian looks at her under the guise of curiosity. Deep within, he examines her loyalty, if she's changed heart. Then again, she did get rid of a potential threat for me, he realizes. So, he gives her a smile. "I trust your judgment then."

She nods, smiling of relief. Her brows suddenly furrow at the thought that occurs to her. "Dr. Kline?"

"Hm?"

"I heard something interesting about The Incapacitator. He has a son."

Sebastian's brows hitch. "Really."

"Yes. One of the nurses said that he's about the same age as me. He's related to that inventor who made bionic humans. What was his name? Dover-something." She shakes her head when the name won't come. "Anyway, they discovered recently that he has a child."

Interesting, Sebastian thinks. The Incapacitator isn't much of a concern to him – at least not anymore. He only ever really cared to think about the villain because the villain picked a house he didn't want anybody to be in.

That's why he died, really: he was at the very wrong place at the wrong time.

Sebastian's not inclined to think about him or his life anymore, but this news regarding his child seem to disturb his prodigy. "You seem concerned about him."

"Well, yeah. What if he comes back and seek revenge? He's going to want somebody to pay for what happened."

"Hm. Does he have any abilities?"

"It doesn't seem like he has any, no."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. One of the nurses said that they had to move him to a normo hospital to get him looked at."

Sebastian nods thoughtfully. "He doesn't seem to be exceptionally intelligent or gifted."

"No. But I'm not sure, so I can do a quick background check on him."

Sebastian lazily puts a hand up, shaking his head to tell her it's not necessary. "Human. Not special like Tecton, not exceptional like Ms. Lee. I'm assuming he's not bionic." He smiles widely at her. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear girl. He's of no consequence to us. He is but a speck of dust on the earth. Easy for a star like you to turn into nothing."

The girl smiles. "Well, okay. If you say so."

"I will get in touch with Tecton later to cover our bases, though, so you don't have to worry about it," Sebastian says, getting up from his desk. As the teenager rises to her feet, he looks out the window and notes how blue the sky and how bright the morning sun is.

The view is much better 43 floors above the ground. "The day is shaping up to be a good one for you and your family," he remarks. "The weather looks incredible."

"It does. We're supposed to be hanging out the whole day. It's much needed."

"Well, I hope you enjoy it."

"We will," the girl says, checking the text message that lit up her watch. "We're supposed to visit the training center again next month. Finlay and I will talk about what to do then."

Sebastian nods. "You do that."

The teenager gives him one last smile before leaving the office.

With the silence, Sebastian slumps back on his seat. This time, though, instead of returning to his pile of work, he swivels his seat around to get a good view of the city.

It's a strange business, handling the affairs and being entrusted the future of the most prominent group of superheroes. It's been years, and he hasn't tired yet of the notoriety and respect it brings, but he feels like he needs more.

And he does need more. For years, he's searched for that one thing that will fill the void, that one thing he's been seeking for to take him to the bigger, better place that he deserves: The Axion.

Everyone else who had almost made it there told him how much wonder, beauty, and power it holds. It's cruel. He gave it its name, but he's never actually been there. He's wanted to lay eyes on it, but it seems like no matter what he does, he could never make it happen.

No one in this reality, in this planet, would understand how painful and horrible it feels. Even someone as powerful as Tecton or someone as legendary as Caduceo could never feel the longing he feels toward it.

And why would they? They're not like him. They're not like the people he's part of, bound forever as a new generation by that one accident.

As he feels the ropes of frustration loom around him, he reaches into his messenger bag for the antidote he has relied on for years. His hand has long memorized its features that it doesn't take him long to locate it without looking.

He pulls it out then leafs through it. The stained pages of the notebook shows its age, and the gradual fading of the ink serves as a reminder that the thoughts it has made material won't last that much longer.

The doctor adeptly skims through the writings until he finds it. He stares at the words written in an all too familiar handwriting, words that he has memorized by heart and that he finds comfort in during times of uncertainty.

Contact t-013068 told me that he fears for his safety. He knows he's being watched, he said, and he seems very reluctant now to talk to me any more about this.

I understand. I told him that if he wishes to stop meeting us in person, we can establish another line of communication that will keep him safe.

For the sake of his safety, the new communication method will be redacted from this log (entry?), but what will be included is this:

Contact has alluded to a phenomenon that leads him to believe that the couple, who went missing some months ago, had survived. Another person like us has mentioned seeing a rift in space and time when he was discovering his abilities.

He wasn't strong enough to leave it open for long – but he saw people there.

The couple. Degenhardt. Others.

No. It wasn't heaven.

It's a different reality, a different planet.

The friend has never seen the rift again after that. Contact believes that he never will.

But he brings to me a puzzle I'm inclined to investigate further: that of the existence of a tesseract.

The tesseract. Sebastian had dreamed, planned, schemed, hurt, and soaked his hands in blood for it. It's been decades since, and he has yet to find the invention.

The one that will take him to Axion.

He shuts the notebook, annoyed, but the cover flips open again. He glares at the name written on the front page. She's been long gone, but she still manages to get the last laugh.

A resentful smirk pulls at his lips. "I will find it one day – you mark my words," he says quietly to her. "You think the League of Heroes is the only thing I can take from you?" He chuckles, shaking his head as his decades-old promise weigh on his chest. "You haven't seen anything yet."

The unfaded name – Doris Snow – cuts him with the biting reply of silence.