Bonding 1.1
"Calm down sweetie, I'm sure everything will be fine." She said to her son who was fidgeting the whole way while he clung to her hand. Debbie kept a soft, supportive smile on her face as she recalled how downtrodden her son had been the last few days. Initially, he didn't want to talk about it, but in time she was able to coax it out and he went crying for hours, explaining to her about it.
Of course, she consoled him while trying to hold back her own, proud and funny smile over the affair. She knew that Mark, whether it was a childhood crush or something else, was very much attached to Taylor, the girl across the street. The very first time they even interacted with each other, Debbi found herself joyful that Mark had a connection with someone other than the people he was comfortable with.
Now, her son was not the introverted type, nor was he totally extroverted in the sense that some children were, but he tended to gravitate to specific people who were more in his wavelength. Many of them were boys, it was rare and almost impossible for her Mark, to even have the confidence to talk to a girl. That in itself was cute on its own, which made the inevitable meet-up and 'charmed' interaction between the two kids all the more precious.
What's best was Mark valued the new friendship he had with Taylor. So much so that he would always talk about her, regardless of the context. Debbie found it amazing that their bond, while still young, was as strong as it was in the span of just a few weeks. Whenever Mark had any spare time of any kind, he would always ask to go to the Herbert's house. Sometimes Taylor herself visited frequently, with her father or mother in tow and they would go for hours just talking, playing, or enjoying stuff with each other through games or TV.
She gushed so badly with this relationship that Debbie secretly took pictures of them both, sometimes even with Mark's knowledge, much to his embarrassment. It was such a wholesome time in her son's life that she just had to save it in some form.
In addition, one thing that Debbie noticed between the two of them, was, bias-aside due to her son, the sentiment worked both ways. Debbie, of course, was not someone who believed in the whole 'childhood friends' trope that the media always portrayed in terms of romantic relationships...
"…but what if she doesn't forgive me Mom?" Mark asked the night before in tears.
…but seeing Taylor come to their home, sit, and wait for Mark, even if it took hours while also respectfully and joyfully bonding with Debbie herself, made her feel as if their relationship, whether what outcome it would have, was genuine. She was strangely attached to her son. Almost to the point that the mute, cute little girl was expressing in her own specific way the same enthusiasm, emotion, and dare Debbie say it, companionship that Mark expressively said himself.
It was so loveable that she couldn't help but smile.
This is why, when thinking about what happened recently, she even felt more elated. Because it meant that Mark actually cared and that was saying a lot. Mark had a lot of friends before Taylor, but none so much reaching to the extent that he had to cry for anything he did wrong against them. She was baffled and surprised at first after seeing Mark come home one day crying as if his father was not able to buy him one of his favorite action figures.
Her son never went this far for someone else. They even bought something in the form of a gift along with Mark creating something special for Taylor himself. All in the hopes that he would be forgiven.
He even clung to her tightly now with his cute little hands right as Debbie started to knock on their neighbor's door. She heard a faint voice inside, probably Rebecca, as she suddenly felt Mark tense up into shivers. Debbie promptly squeezed back as her son looked up.
With their eyes meeting, Debbie simply gave a supportive expression, and he began to calm down. "It'll be alright honey, I'm sure it isn't as bad as you think it is."
"Really?"
Debbie squeezed his son's hand again and grinned. "Really, now chin up."
"Okay." His little soldier said as he tried to fix himself.
Eventually, the door in front of them opened and they were welcomed with the sight of Rebecca Herbert smiling at them. Some of her hair loosely flowed by her right shoulder and the rest were tied behind her. Debbie smiled back with genuine glee at seeing her again, the woman closely becoming one of her favorite friends since they moved into the neighborhood.
"Debbie! This is a wonderful surprise." Rebecca cheerfully said. A stark contrast to the professional, fully committed, and almost startlingly serious demeanor she carried within her own husband's company. One that now owned the real estate business that Debbie was employed in. Thanks to their rapid friendship after meeting and getting along at work, Debbie had a lot to thank the woman due to how fast she was able to climb up the leadership in her own office.
ClarkTech had branched off from just being a tech corporation, becoming a staggeringly large and successful organization that quickly became a giant in the industry it held and it was led by two of the kindest people she had ever known.
Along with their similarly cute child.
"Hey, Becky… wonderful to see you too." She said with glee as the woman smiled back.
"What's the occasion?"
Debbie then felt her son's hand squeezing hers when she noticed Rebecca was smiling at her son. "What do we say when we're visiting neighbors, Mark?"
"Oh… h-hello, ma'am. Good morning!" Mark said to correct himself as Rebecca giggled.
"Hello to you as well, young man," Rebecca said as she lowered her head to somewhat his level. The way Mark seemingly felt a bit embarrassed given this was Taylor's mother made Debbie feel proud at how much he respected his friend so much with that small little gesture.
"I'm… I..." he stuttered before taking a deep breath with Debbie encouragingly squeezing his shoulder. Giving him a bit of bravery to finally speak his request. "I w-want to see Taylor, ma'am. I… I want to apologize, for making her sad the other day."
The conviction of his words made Rebecca widen her eyes slightly before giggling again.
The surprise on her face almost made Debbie laugh as the woman stood back up, putting both hands on her hips as she smiled at her son. "Apologize for what, I reckon? I don't think she's been sad these last few days. If anything, I feel like she's more… the usual snark and naughtiness that you know her by. I don't seem to recall her being sad at all, so I'm a bit confused here."
"B-But… she ran away from me, frowning. I thought I did something wrong to her-
"Mark… I told you, honey. I think you're overthinking it, just as I said." Debbie supportively said.
"B-But…" he then frowned, before becoming brave enough to manage a glare. "…but I want to see her still! Because I made a promise to her that she would always be happy, regardless of what could happen!"
Mark then took a step forward, confidence oozing in his gaze and stature, he didn't even need Debbie's support for this, much to even her own surprise. "And… a-and I don't want to see her with anything else but her smile."
Rebecca looked down at her son at the strange challenge as Debbie watched when a shadow behind Rebecca's leg manifested. She smiled internally as the woman reached for the little girl's hair behind her leg and Mark finally noticed.
"That's very cute and gentlemanly Mark Grayson, but… since you are here for Taylor. Why don't you tell her about it yourself?"
The mention of her name and her visage, hidden slightly by the side of her mother's leg made Mark almost step back in a sense of overwhelming, sudden anxiety. Only for Debbie to see how much her son actively cared for the girl when she watched Taylor almost back away with how he reacted, only for Mark to quickly get his composure back after their eyes met.
Debbie then watched Mark take the plastic bag containing his little gift on his arm and take out the small box that was placed in it. It was mostly her idea and choice that got them to buy it from a really good store downtown, but it was Mark's determination to get a good, beautiful gift that made the moment before them shine a little brighter.
"I… I got this for you, Tay." Her son explained as he gently opened the meticulously yellow and crème box where a cute little trinket lay inside of it. "I'm sorry… if… if I made you sad the o-other day. I didn't know what I was doing… a-and…"
His stuttering suddenly stopped when he was brought almost to tears seeing that Taylor still hadn't come out of her spot behind her mother. Debbie watched as her son's lips started to quiver before he looked down at the gift and frowned. "I… I hoped that this was enough to make you forgive me… so that you'd smile again."
There was a pregnant pause as a small tear trickled down Mark's cheek. Debbie was going to try and possibly say something to make her son cheer up, but it was not needed. Before Mark could say anything else, Taylor walked gently to him and put him into a sweet, loving embrace.
One that Mark quickly returned with full fervor.
Debbie almost teared up at the heartwarming scene as Mark happily melted into Taylor's arms. She could see Mark tearing up joyously into his friend as he kept muttering a soft 'thank you'. Eventually, the two slowly separated from their embrace briefly as her son gently took the gift out of the box. A beautiful hairpin that was stylized into a butterfly. The color complimented the little girl's hair as her son gently pinned it next to the locks by the side of her face.
Mark mustered a smile as he wiped his tears.
Taylor, whom Debbie mostly observed to have this neutral, almost expressionless demeanor for most of the time, managed the same.
A second later, Taylor offered her hand which Mark took as they hurriedly walked together into her house while the two mothers watched. They watched as the two ran upstairs in a cute manner as Mark's happy demeanor returned after days of crying almost non-stop.
It was only then that Debbie saw Rebecca with a strange, almost shocked, and confused expression on her face as her gaze lingered to where the two had disappeared upstairs. She couldn't place what exactly the woman was feeling, but Debbie hoped that it wasn't the typical parental concern when it came to raising a daughter.
"So… that was something, huh?" she started, clearing her throat to get her attention.
Rebeca turned to her, setting herself back with a friendly smile as Debbie smiled back.
"Yeah…" she then sighed before speaking again, as if previously exasperated before relaxing when her shoulders lost some of their tension. "Would you believe me in saying that I've never seen her that happy in years?"
"Oh? Why so?"
Rebecca stared at her, an expression on her face that Debbie couldn't seem to read properly. "Because she's never been the most expressive child. Not even to me. Not even to Clark. Well… she likes Clark more than me, but… that look on her face, was really something. The best I could probably do is when I get her the cookies that she likes, she always seemed to get 'cuddlier' to me when I do that." She emphasized that one particular word.
"I'm sure Taylor loves you, Becky." Debbie supportively said.
Rebecca smiled back. Almost in a manner that felt too perfect as a response. Debbie didn't seem to detect it as Rebecca crossed her arms on her chest. "Anyway, are you free for the rest of the day?"
"Me?" Debbie asked, curious about what the woman was planning.
"I got something real smooth that's quite a bit pricey in the kitchen. Might help to pass the time, you know." She offered with a grin.
Debbie raised her brow to the implication, crossing her arms as well with a slight grin.
"Oh? You sure it's okay to do that? With our kids up there while we… I don't know, bond a bit?"
"Why not? I don't think we're stupid enough to get drunk, but admittedly… with Clark out of the house, I kinda want to have someone to talk to. Someone… that I have some trust at least."
Debbie felt the sudden tone shift in her friend's words.
"Is everything alright Rebecca? Is it something with Clark?"
Thankfully, Debbie saw Rebecca deny it instantly with legitimate emotion that ultimately told her that it wasn't what she was thinking of first thing in her mind. The woman even almost laughed at the implication.
"No… of course not. That man is far too good-natured and idealistic to even try anything. One time he even apologized for simply thinking that I was ignoring him for something he did back in the day. I was just sick, and he felt terrible thinking that it was his fault."
Debbie managed a small giggle that Rebecca followed with a chuckle.
"Sounds like a keeper," Debbie admitted. "But seriously, what's wrong?"
Rebecca looked at her for a few seconds before ultimately sighing.
"Would you accept my offer if we talked it over while sharing a drink?"
Debbie then softly smiled as she took a step forward and placed a supportive hand on the woman's shoulder. "Alright, but do know that as your friend, I'll always try my best to help."
Rebecca blinked at her response. The genuine feeling behind it, unbeknownst to Debbie was like a heavy contrast to the echo of all the lies she's ever conjured to prop with her initial personas that the world knew. It felt so strange to her, whether through the unyielding numbness and callousness she had accumulated through the years, or perhaps a lingering portion of her Thinker power that forced her to be more logical than emotional; that this short slew of words hit her heart.
[Be Calm]
Relaxing, she admittedly felt thankful that some part of her was able to open that part of herself again, more so to other people than just her very short list of actual friends.
"Thanks."
A screech was heard, underneath the sounds of something cracking and squelching. The world, wrought with an atmosphere of red sheen of light glowed ethereally against the sounds.
Most of it beyond the excruciating pain was that of song.
Yes, they sang… they sang deeply into the night. In harmony, in faith, in peace.
You could hear the beautiful tones of the red planet's inhabitants as they sang in joyous splendor towards the sky where a golden glow bloomed. Where the damned were crucified for their wrongdoing as their innards dripped out of their abdomens.
They sang for their pain, their foolishness. For only salvation lay after the final light in their eyes vanished. They all reach towards the golden light. Its beautiful color nearly touching them as tears, if they had the ability to, would perspire from their inhuman appearances.
The antennae on their heads, children, and adults all, slightly twitched in affirmation and glee as their leaders, those crucified, reached nirvana.
Their zenith approached while the Golden figure, their Goddess loomed.
Clad in her golden armor, appendages behind her back resembling that of wings or legs of an insect, and those beautiful, large insectoid eyes cast by golden locks that flowed behind her like a cape. Both her arms raised as if in enlightenment, Prophet-like in their mood like a Seraphim, Ophanim, or perhaps even God showing themselves against their lesser like Moses to the Burning Bush.
It did not matter that one of her arms was absent.
It did not matter if even as the last of the Flaxan blood from those crucified were drained from their husks before her…
For she was their Goddess. Her mighty glow unchallenged.
The entire planet her eyes, ears, and mind.
T'was a beautiful place.
T'was a paradise.
A fate that would guide these lesser beings from their barbaric acts forever.
Beautiful, isn't it?
AN: I was sick recently, sorry if this came out late. At the same time, yeah, this one is multi-part. Bonding in every sense, per se. Haha.