CHAPTER 1
"Rest assured listener, that my time here has not been easy, and what you have just heard was not fiction. Although, in many a desperate moment, I most certainly wish it had been."
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Wyatt scribbled away on his paper, steadily answering the math questions. It was more advanced, college-level math, but he understood it perfectly, even though he was a sophomore. He must have inherited his brains from both of his parents. His mom was a biochemist, studying the chemical processes and transformations in living organisms, particularly studying evolution and how genetic traits are carried throughout generations.
His dad, well, he was a physicist, specifically researching quantum physics.—but, he also did a lot more, additionally studying dark matter, a fascinating substance most scientists didn't really tap into, which is what made his father so intrigued by it.
“You see, Wyatt, this could truly revolutionize the field as we know it!” Johnathon said, looking down at his son, the little six-year-old Wyatt sitting on his lap. He had chosen out one of his many books on matter, and he pointed to a section highlighting the dark substance he seemed to have such a huge obsession with.
“There's still so much we don't know…but that's exactly why I'm going to study it! I'm gonna be the one who figures it all out!” Johnathon says, smiling at the image he's painting in his mind. “You'll see! Just imagine my name in all those textbooks, “Dr. Ohnn, the physicist who unlocked the secrets of dark matter!” My work will be praised and highly regarded by scientists all over the world!” Johnathon exclaims, ruffling his boy's hair, chuckling at the swat he earned in response.
“Your old man is gonna be famous one day, just you wait.”
He smiles a bit at the memory, his father was always so enthusiastic about his work. He'd always ramble on and on to Wyatt about, well, anything he could. Wyatt didn't understand much of anything about what he said as he was merely a little boy at the time, but he liked how happy his dad seemed in those moments, and seeing him happy made him happy. As he got older though, he started to grasp the concepts his dad would spout at him a lot better.
The great thing about having two scientists as parents is that you're always learning new things, he's always passed his tests in science with flying colors and impressed his teachers with the things he knew,—stuff that certainly wasn't taught in any class.
Though, the subject he loved the most was math. He was exceptionally good at it, always able to get exemplary grades with ease. What he liked the most was the patterns involved. Once you understood the formula and what you needed to do, it was incredibly simple, and if you made a mistake, then it was all on you. He liked it. It was predictable. It was controllable. Safe.
…And the dopamine rush he got when he solved a particularly difficult problem was pretty neat too!
He's shaken out of his thoughts as he hears a little ding from his phone. A message from his mom appears on the screen.
“I might be home a little later tonight due to the big project I have to lead. I'll try to see if I can get someone else to take over.” Ah, right.
His mom worked in a completely different laboratory than his dad. Johnathon worked at Alchemax, which was right here in New York, while mom worked in a place in New Jersey, which was only an hour and forty-two minutes away, but still, that meant it took a little longer for her to get home and she could be stuck working pretty late due to the projects she had to take on.
Though, she always tried to spend as little time as possible at the lab so she could be at home more with Wyatt, which, he felt a little bad about. He had told her that he didn't want her to miss out on big opportunities because of him, but she insisted that he was more important than any lab experiment she could ever dream of conducting, which made him feel a little better, but not by much.
She definitely was a l ot stricter than his dad, but honestly? He didn't really mind that much. He's honestly come to appreciate it, in a way. He's been staying at his mom's a lot more, and he definitely can appreciate the structure she provides in his life. It was easier to predict, and she gave him a set routine. And she always seemed to better pick up on when Wyatt went through one of his nonverbal spells, knowing when to leave him alone so as to not overwhelm him with conversation. Not to mention her house was a lot better kept and clean, which was something Wyatt could always appreciate. It was a much different environment from his dad.
Don't get him wrong though, he loves his dad. He loved the way he got so enthusiastic about his work, the way he'd randomly go on little drives with Wyatt, taking him to the comic book store so they could both geek out over whatever issue was available. Wyatt in particular loved the Spider-Man comics, the old ones based on the - now-deceased, red-suited Spider-Man. Though he did quite like the new Spider-Man as well, he thought his suit had a neat design, and he especially adored the red stripes going down his arms. He thought it looked sick.
He also loved the way his dad would give him information about the inner workings of his field and Alchemax you’d never hear from anyone else. It did concern him that his dad was working for Wilson Fisk, a man who had a lot of controversy around him. He's heard a lot of rumors about him and his…unethical practices. But, Wyatt had faith that his father would never willingly work for someone like that, so he elected to believe that all those rumors were false.
He also loved how well, fun his dad could be! He was corny and honestly a bit embarrassing at times, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Yeah, sometimes he paid far too much attention to his work, neglecting everything else and he'd often make promises that he'd never keep, and he'd sometimes impulsively make decisions that would frustrate Wyatt to no end. (Seriously, sometimes it felt like he was more responsible than the literal forty-year-old man who was supposed to take care of him!) But even then, he loved his dad. He loved him to death. Even if his dad was focused far too much on the future, constantly trying to work and improve things, instead of the present.
He has his flaws, but doesn’t everyone? His dad loved him. And besides, he would try to make up for his shortcomings as a parent, mostly by trying to spend time with his son, going to places with him, buying him things, etc. Even if that dejected feeling he got whenever a call from Johnathon's work would disrupt their father-son bonding time felt suffocating and nearly made him want to cry, he knew that his dad loved him, and that was enough. His dad loved him, he'd constantly praise him for being a smart kid, and he'd try his best to engage in his son's interests, which wasn't a difficult task as Wyatt found himself particularly invested in old sci-fi movies, so he managed to get Johnathon hooked on them too.
They'd spend hours sometimes during the nights they would watch movies together just talking about well, everything they could about the media. What its strengths were, its faults, and his dad always had fun pointing out what was and wasn't scientifically accurate. He felt so connected to his dad during these moments, and he loved to see him so enthusiastic, so giddy. He loved that big, awkward smile his dad would dawn, and the way he'd giggle at all the corny, outdated jokes the movies often had.
He loved his dad, and his dad loved him. And that was enough.
He shoots his mom a quick “Okay! I'll see you later!” in response to her message and closes out the contact. He's about to get back to work when he realizes he hasn't texted his dad in a few days. He didn't mean to, it had just completely slipped his mind as he was quite busy with all the extra schoolwork he had to do in his AP classes.
He wasn't allowed to see his dad in person, not ever since…the accident. He didn't really know much, other than the fact it had transformed his dad into something that clearly wasn't human. He honestly thought it was pretty cool, especially with how his powers allowed him to open up little portals, his father literally had superpowers! How cool was that?
His mom honestly didn't even seem to mind the fact he was seemingly inhuman either, just her reluctance came from the fact he was a hazard and his unstable powers could put Wyatt in danger. Which, honestly, he understood.
He especially understood it when upon first meeting Johnathon again after the accident, his dad had accidentally sent a car hurling straight towards him, which he only narrowly avoided. It was.. a very terrifying experience. Mostly due to the fact he *had* been hit by a car before, when he was really young.
He remembers it clear as day, the sudden sharp, explosive pain spread through his body, the sudden unconsciousness, and then waking up in some sterilized hospital environment, laying flat on his back against a mattress that was a bit too firm. He was high out of his mind of the painkillers, barely registering much, but he remembers seeing his mom and dad sitting together next to him on the bed, and dad *crying*- he was always definitely the more outwardly emotional one out of the two, but still, seeing his own dad, or honestly any one of his parents full on *sob* was a jarring sight.
And then, once Johnathon registered he was awake, he felt his dad rush to slam his torso against his, locking him in a hug that knocked the wind out of him. He remembers just sitting there for a few moments, his brain taking some time to fully register the events happening, and the fact his dad had particularly thrown himself into his arms. He remembers once his brain finally caught up to the situation, leaning into his dad's chest, mustering up as much strength his weak body could to hug him back.
He remembers his dad's choked broken sobs, muttering incoherently about how he was worried sick, how he for sure thought he was going to die. A key object from the scene he distinctly remembers is the copy of “Treasure Island” at his tableside, the very same copy that Johnathon would read to him every night. He was maybe around seven or eight when it happened, and the last thing he remembers before it all faded to black once again was the doctor telling his parents how lucky Wyatt was to have survived that.
There was one thing he didn't really understand about his dad's whole situation, and that's why Johnathon's parents seemed to flat out *reject* him after his transformation. After all, they seemed to love him, and Johnathon always spoke so highly of them, yeah sure maybe they put a lot of pressure on him to succeed, but they still *did* love him, and they were very obvious with their affection.
He asked his mom about it a few weeks ago, and he remembers her sitting him down on the couch. She placed her hand on his shoulder and sighed, “Sometimes, honey, the people we love they….they do things we don't understand. Sometimes they hurt us, even if it isn't their intention,” her eyes trail off in the distance as if she was recounting an event from the distant past. He knew she didn't have a good relationship with her parents, he never knew all the details as she never really shared much about her childhood, but he could tell that they had hurt her pretty bad.
She took a deep breath, looking Wyatt in the eyes again. “I'm sure they didn't mean any harm, maybe they were scared. But…that doesn't change the fact they left him. It's up to your father on whether or not he'll forgive them or if they even deserve his forgiveness.”
She cupped his face, her hands were cold and calloused, but he still felt himself melting into the contact. “Make sure you text your father as much as you can, alright? I don't want him to feel like we're doing the same thing. Once my workload isn't as big, I'll try to see if we can meet up again, all three of us. I'm sure by now he's gotten a handle on his powers.”
Right. He needs to text him more. Make sure he knows that even if his parents don't want to be around him, Wyatt still does. He shoots him a message, a simple “Hey! How's your day going?”
He smiles to himself. Alright, there we go. His dad usually responded pretty quickly so he wasn't worried. He's excited to see what his dad has been up to.
A few minutes passed and still, no response. That's fine, he's probably away from his phone right now doing… whatever he did nowadays.
Wyatt decides he should probably freshen up, he always needed to check his appearance, to wash his face at very specific points in the day, otherwise he'd feel disgusting and grimy. His skin would feel too tight, he'd feel like tiny little insects were crawling up and down his skin, chewing through it, burrowing into his flesh. He shudders at the thought.
He walks into the bathroom, looking into the mirror. He looked a lot like his father. He had nearly the exact same facial features, the same mole underneath his left eye, the same nose, and the same brown eyes. He had been growing out his hair too, it was around the same length as his dad's before he had that awful haircut. And well before you know…the whole “mutation” thing his dad had going on.
Even though he was eerily similar to his father, there were some key differences. Wyatt had a lot more freckles sprawled around his face, and he also had a mole on his nose. His glasses were also round a contrast to his dad’s more square frame. He also was a lot more well-kept than his father, he made sure he took showers frequently, almost every single day.
Sometimes he'd scrub his skin until it bled, and yet still, he couldn't get that feeling of dirt and grime off, get off get off get it OFF-
His hair was a lot more full and nicer looking, there were rarely any knots and it was certainly not as greasy looking as his dad's. Wyatt had also decided to dye his hair blue, mostly to just see how it'd look. He was worried that the dye would ruin his hair, but since he took such good care of it, it seemed to never be a problem. However, it did mean he had to focus on washing his hair a bit less to make sure the color didn't dull too much.
His dad said he loved how it looked and that he maybe wanted to do something similar with his own hair, which Wyatt adamantly advised against because that was the last thing his dad's hair needed, and he knew for a fact he wouldn't take care of it properly.
Wyatt splashed his face with water that was almost scalding, he's gotten used to these little routines, so he was used to the searing sensation of the water seeping over his skin. He rubbed his face until his skin felt clean, which usually took until his face felt tender and raw.
After a few minutes, he was done. His face felt like it was on fire, but he was okay with it because it meant he was clean.
He then went to put his hand onto the pump of his foam soap dispenser, the liquid inside was a bright orange, indicating it was some sort of citrus scent. He harshly pumps it two times, letting the foamy substance coat his hands.
He turned on the sink knob, letting the scalding water run as he wet his hands and scrubbed harshly, however, due to the fact he had touched the metal knob with his bare hands and not his elbow, he had to wash his hands a second time. He knew logically he'd probably be fine, but still, the knowledge that he would have those germs on his hands made him want to rip his skin off.
Finally, he was done, with everything. His face still hurt a bit, but the sensation was quickly fading away. His hands burned, but they always did due to eczema that riddled his hands, making his skin have the texture of sandpaper so it was pretty easy to ignore. Better for it to just plain hurt than for It to be itchy.
He stepped out of the bathroom, checking the time. It had been around 10 minutes since he sent his message, and still, no response. Alright. Okay. That did worry him a bit, but it was probably fine. He's just taking a little longer than usual to respond. No biggie.
An hour passes, and then two hours. Three.
Now he's starting to get really worried. Okay, something was definitely up. He paced around his room anxiously, imagining all the horrific things that could've happened to his dad. Did he lose his phone? Did he get into yet another accident? Or worse.. did he die?
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. Okay, take a deep breath. He's just being irrational, surely nothing like that happened.
But still, he knows his mind won't be able to rest until he gets answers until he knows for certain.
Just like his dad, Wyatt wasn't the best at making the best, most well-thought-out or rational decisions, he was good at using logic and reasoning for his academic work but everything else in his life?...not so much. He usually acted on impulse and emotion, usually doing things in the heat of the moment.
Which is why, against his better judgment, he's grabbing his MetroCard and speeding out of the front door. Johnathon's apartment complex is a little far from here, far enough that usually he'd need to be driven to and back from there whenever he used to visit every other week. However, he didn't have a car, as he was fifteen years old, so he decided he'd just take the subway.
He felt a bit guilty for going and not telling his mom, but it was a necessary evil, he told himself. It's for ensuring his dad's wellbeing. All he hopes is that she gets home much later than usual, so she wouldn't come home to see that Wyatt had gone someplace else. She'd be worried sick and he'd definitely receive a stern talking too and probably a grounding as well.
He shook as he clung onto the pole in the subway for dear life, the anxiety rushing through his body making it hard for him to stay still. His mind kept on replaying horrific imaginary scenarios in his mind of what could happen.
The subway was pretty crowded, which was a pain He always hated public transportation because of this, too many people, too little space, and too many things that could happen.
After what felt like centuries, he finally got off to his stop. The doors of the subway finally opened and people poured out. He tried to wait for everyone to get out first, but that was taking too long, so with a huff he managed to squeeze in between people, muttering apologies and little “excuse me!”s.
Finally, he could breathe as the crowd was far behind him now. He quickly made his way down the multiple streets that led to his father's apartment, he'd memorized the address by now, so all it was is just a matter of finding the streets that led up to it.
Eventually, he could finally see his dad's apartment complex in the distance. And he could faintly make out an all too familiar figure climbing up the steps, or at least, trying to as it seemed to be trying to haul a bunch of equipment up the stairs.
It was his dad. He knew for certain it was. I mean, he stuck out pretty well. Who else looked like that?
He smiled, okay he was alive! But still, he needed to know just what was going on.
So he ran, hoping that he'd be able to catch him in time before he inevitably locked the door to his room. He hoped that nothing had happened to his father. A small, insecure part of him felt like maybe he should turn back. Perhaps his father wouldn't be all too enthusiastic about meeting him again, or maybe he was doing some incredibly important work that Wyatt mustn't interrupt. Or maybe, worst of all, he'd ignore him.
He pushes those thoughts down. His dad would never do that, he reminds himself. Dad was always excited to see him. Dad wouldn't ignore him, no, Dad had told him how he was the only light in his life, he wouldn't ignore his shining star, would he?
Dad loved him. A phrase repeated in his mind as he stepped onto the concrete of the sidewalk as the apartment building started to come into focus.