[Luke's POV]
I'm just starting to get settled in my temporary dorm room at Star Tower when I hear a frantic knocking at the door. The room is mostly bare but comfortable, with sleek modern furnishings that wouldn't look out of place in a high-end hotel. A large window offers a breathtaking view of the Boston skyline, the late afternoon sun painting the city in hues of gold and amber.
I've barely had time to unpack the few belongings they provided me, some basic toiletries, and a change of clothes when the urgent pounding starts. Confused, I make my way to the door. I haven't even been here for 90 minutes. Who could possibly be looking for me already?
As I open the door, my eyes widen in shock. Standing before me is a face I know all too well, yet one I never expected to see here. My older sister, Lucy.
Before I can even process what I'm seeing, Lucy lunges forward, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug. Her arms wrap around me with an intense strength. The world becomes a blur of motion and emotion as she thrashes me about, her voice breaking with barely contained sobs.
"Brother!" she cries, her words muffled against my shoulder. "I can't believe it! I can't believe it's really you!"
Lucy pulls back slightly, her hands gripping my shoulders as she studies my face. Her brown eyes are brimming with tears. She looks exactly the same as mine except with a different hair cut.
"Luke," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "How is this possible? You... you died. I saw it happen."
I'm overwhelmed by the sight of her, by the raw emotion in her voice. This Lucy is so different from the sister I know, the one who drifted away after I married Skye, who I haven't spoken to in years. Yet the love and pain in her eyes are achingly familiar.
"Lucy," I manage to choke out, my own eyes filling with tears. "I... I'm not your Luke. Not exactly. I'm from another universe."
Lucy's eyes widen, a mix of emotions flashing across her face. "I know," she says softly. "They told me. But... but you're here. You're real. You're alive." Her words come out in a rush as if she can't contain the flood of feelings overwhelming her.
She pulls me into another fierce hug, her body trembling against mine. I can feel the dampness of her tears soaking through my shirt. "I don't care if you're from another universe," she murmurs, her voice muffled against my chest. "You're still my brother. You're still Luke."
"Look at you," she says, a watery smile breaking through her tears. "You're all grown up. My little brother, a man now." Her thumb brushes gently over my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn't even realize had fallen. "I've missed you so much, Luke. Every single day."
The depth of her love and grief hits me like a physical force. I open my mouth to respond, but before I can form the words, a stern voice cuts through the emotional moment.
"Ms. Lyon, I told you to wait for me."
We both turn to see Dark Star striding down the hallway, her cape billowing behind her like a storm cloud. Her masked face is set in a disapproving grimace, blue eyes flashing with barely contained irritation.
Lucy doesn't seem fazed by the imposing heroine's arrival. She meets Dark Star's gaze evenly, a hint of defiance in her stance. "I'm a speedster, Dark Star," she says, her voice steady despite the tears still glistening in her eyes. "You told me an alternate universe version of my brother was here. Did you really expect me to wait?"
Dark Star's frown deepens, but there's a flicker of understanding in her eyes. She lets out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose beneath her mask. "I suppose not," she concedes grudgingly. "But protocol exists for a reason, Ms. Lyon. We need to ensure Mr. Lyon is safe and not overwhelmed."
Lucy rolls her eyes, waving her hand dismissively at Dark Star. "Yeah, yeah," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I've heard it all before. Protocol this, safety that. But this is my brother we're talking about."
I clear my throat, drawing both women's attention. "Um, Dark Star," I begin hesitantly, "would it be alright if Lucy and I had some time alone? To catch up?"
Dark Star's piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, her expression unreadable behind her mask. For a moment, the only sound in the hallway is the soft whirr of the building's air conditioning system. Then she speaks, her voice low and measured.
"Mr. Lyon," she says, each word carefully chosen, "you're not even remotely integrated into our society yet. We have no idea how compatible or incompatible our cultures are. It could be dangerous for both of you."
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Everything seems similar so far," I argue, gesturing around us. "The technology, the language, even the layout of the city. It can't be that different, can it?"
Dark Star's eyes narrow slightly, and I can almost feel the weight of her gaze. "Sometimes," she says slowly, "surface-level appearances can be deceiving. Cultural differences can run deep, Mr. Lyon. Misunderstandings could have serious consequences."
"You're making me uncomfortable," I blurt out, unable to contain my annoyance with the Bat wannabe.
The words hang in the air like a thunderclap. Dark Star's eyes widen behind her mask, shock evident in every line of her body.
"I... what?" she stammers, her voice stripped of its otherworldly resonance.
"You're making me uncomfortable," I repeat, more firmly this time. "I appreciate your concern, but this is all a bit much."
Dark Star seems to deflate before my eyes, her imposing presence shrinking until she looks almost... human. She takes a deep breath, visibly composing herself.
"I... I apologize, Mr. Lyon," she says, her voice now quiet and tinged with embarrassment. "I may have gotten carried away. It was not my intention to cause you distress."
She straightens her cape, which now looks less like a piece of the night sky and more like a simple black fabric. "I'll be in the lab if you need anything," she murmurs, already turning to leave. "Please don't hesitate to call if any issues arise."
"Thank you," I say, watching as she walks down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the sudden silence.
As Dark Star disappears around a corner, Lucy turns to me, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I can't believe you just talked to one of the most powerful capes out there like that," she says, her voice a mixture of awe and concern.
"That Batman wannabe?" I say, shaking my head in disbelief. "I mean, the whole dark and brooding thing is a bit much, don't you think?"
Lucy's brow furrows in confusion. "Batman? Who's that?"
I pause, realizing I'm not in the mood to explain this. "Oh, uh, never mind. It's probably not a thing here."
I begin, trying to wrap my head around this new reality, "what are her powers? Dark Star, I mean."
Lucy lets out a melodious laugh that fills the room, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "She doesn't have any powers."
I blink in surprise. "None at all?"
"Nope," Lucy confirms, popping the 'p' sound. "But she's never lost a fight yet."
I have no idea if that's a big deal or not in this world of superheroes, so I just nod and say, "Nice."
There's a moment of awkward silence as we both struggle to bridge the gap between us. The years of shared history that never happened, the differences between our worlds.
"So..." I venture, searching for common ground, "you're a superhero too?"
Lucy's face lights up with excitement. "I'm super quick," she says, her words tumbling out in a rush.
Before I can even process what she means, Lucy vanishes from the couch in a blur of motion. Suddenly, she's bouncing all over the room at what must be the speed of sound.
Lucy zips from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, her form nothing more than a streak of color. She pauses for a split second on the ceiling, grinning down at me upside-down before landing in the chair.
She beams at me, her face flushed with excitement and pride. "Pretty cool, huh?"
I think about what it must be like for her, moving through the world at impossible speeds while everyone else creeps along in slow motion. How isolating that must feel.
"Lucy," I say softly, "is life constantly in slow motion for you? Always watching the world crawl by while you're stuck in hyperspeed?"
Lucy laughs, "Oh no, no, no," she assures me quickly. "It's not like that at all. It's more like... an on-and-off thing. I only move super fast when I focus and activate my powers."
"Really?" I perk up a bit. "That's actually how mine works, too."
Lucy looks confused. "Your what?"
"My powers," I clarify.
Lucy's eyes widen in surprise, her mouth falling open slightly. "You have powers?" she asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.
I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, I can shoot ramen out of my fingers."
Lucy stares at me for a moment, her brow furrowed in confusion. Then, suddenly, she bursts into laughter, the sound bright and melodious. "That's so silly!" she exclaims, her eyes twinkling with mirth.
As her laughter subsides, her expression shifts to one of wonder. She leans forward, her voice dropping to an almost reverent whisper. "Do you know how rare it is for a man to have powers?"
I smile, remembering Skye's words from earlier. "Yeah, Skye told me."
The moment I mention Skye's name, Lucy's face goes pale, the color draining from her cheeks so quickly it's as if someone flipped a switch. Her eyes widen in horror, and she grips the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles turn white.
"When did you see Skye?"
I furrow my brow, confused by Lucy's sudden change in demeanor. "Skye was the one who saved me when I first showed up here," I explain. "She fought off some blue-haired scientist and brought me to her penthouse where we…."
Lucy's face contorts in horror as I recount my story. Her breathing becomes rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. Before I can finish, she jerks backwards violently, her elbow catching the edge of the small side table next to her chair.
Time seems to slow as I watch the events unfold. The table rocks precariously, a half-full water bottle atop it teetering for a split second before toppling over. The cap, not fully screwed on, pops off as the bottle falls. A graceful arc of water spills out, heading straight for me.
Lucy's hand appears out of nowhere, snatching the bottle from midair. But she's a fraction of a second too late. A splash of water has already hit my shirt, leaving a dark, wet stain across my chest.
Lucy's face crumples with dismay. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, Luke!" she cries, her voice filled with genuine distress. "I tried to catch it, but I wasn't paying attention!"
I look down at my soaked shirt, then back up at Lucy's anguished expression. A chuckle escapes my lips, growing into full-blown laughter. "Lucy, it's fine," I assure her, still chuckling. "It's just water. No harm done."
Lucy's brow furrows in confusion, clearly not understanding my amusement. I shake my head, still smiling. "Really, it's okay. I'll just change into one of the shirts Dark Star gave me earlier."
I stand up, reaching for the hem of my wet shirt. As I start to pull it over my head, I hear a sharp intake of breath. Pausing with the shirt half-off, I peer out to see Lucy's face has turned a deep shade of crimson. Her eyes are wide, fixed on my exposed torso.
Before I can react, Lucy is suddenly right in front of me, moving so fast I didn't even see her leave her chair. Her hands grip the bottom of my shirt, yanking it back down forcefully.
"What are you doing?" she squeaks, her voice an octave higher than normal. Her face is so red now I can almost feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.
"I was just going to change my shirt," I explain, bewildered by her reaction.
Lucy looks at me with dismay, her eyes wide and her face flushed. "In front of your sister? Luke, get a grip!" she exclaims, her voice a mixture of shock and embarrassment.
I feel lost, completely thrown by her reaction. Not wanting to offend her further, I quickly backpedal. "I'm sorry about that," I say, my voice remorseful. "I should have been more mindful." The words feel hollow in my mouth, a placating gesture rather than a genuine apology.
In truth, I'm just pandering to her, trying to smooth over a situation I don't fully understand. But I'm exhausted so this is my best option.
Lucy's expression softens slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction. "No, no, that's not... it's fine," she mumbles, her eyes darting away from mine. Her fingers fidget with the hem of her own shirt, twisting the fabric nervously.
Desperate to change the subject and ease the tension, I clear my throat. "So, um, are you going to be around from now on?" I ask, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
Lucy's face brightens at the question, relief evident in her expression. "Oh! Yes, of course!" she exclaims, her earlier embarrassment seemingly forgotten. In a blur of motion that leaves me blinking in surprise, she zips across the room to a small desk in the corner.
The wind from her movement ruffles the papers on the desk, sending a few floating to the ground. Lucy doesn't seem to notice, her focus entirely on scribbling something on a notepad. Her hand moves so quickly it's just a flesh-colored smudge, the pen a blur of motion.
In less than a second, she's back in front of me, holding out a small piece of paper. "Here's my phone number," she says, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'll stay in Boston for a while, maybe take some time off from my team in LA."
Lucy's eyes sparkle with excitement as she hands me the piece of paper, her fingers lingering for a moment as if reluctant to break contact.
"I don't want to fuck up your integration thing," she says, her voice soft and filled with a mixture of concern and barely contained joy. "But call me for anything, okay, bro? Even if you're just bored."
As she speaks, I can see the years of loneliness and grief etched in the lines around her eyes, the slight tremor in her hands. It's clear that having a brother again, even one from another universe, means more to her than she can express in words.
"Of course," I nod, carefully folding the paper and tucking it into my pocket. "Thank you, Lucy."
The simple act of saying her name seems to fill her with indescribable happiness. Her smile widens, threatening to split her face in two. In a blur of motion that leaves a faint afterimage in the air, she wraps me in another tight hug.
This time, the embrace is gentler, less desperate. I can feel the steady beat of her heart against my chest, the warmth of her breath on my neck. For a moment, we stand there, two siblings reunited across the vast expanse of a multiverse.
When Lucy finally pulls away, her eyes are shining with unshed tears. She takes a deep breath, composing herself. "I should go," she says reluctantly, her voice thick with emotion. "Let you get settled in."
I nod, understanding the need for space to process all that's happened. "I'll call you soon," I promise.
Lucy beams at me one last time, her joy palpable in the air between us. Then, in the blink of an eye, she's gone. A gust of wind ruffles my hair and clothes, and the door clicks shut softly behind her.
*****
[Lucy's POV]
As soon as I make it outside of Star Tower, I have to take a deep breath. The cool evening air fills my lungs, but it does little to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. My hands are shaking, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I'm reeling over the fact that that stupid cunt Skye dared go near my brother after what she did last time.
The memory of that day flashes through my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. The screams, the blood, the sickening crunch... No. I push the thought away, gritting my teeth against the wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm me.
I pace back and forth, my feet moving so quickly they barely touch the ground. The world around me blurs, the lights of the city streaking into long, colorful lines. To anyone watching, I'd be nothing more than a faint shimmer in the air, a heat haze on a cool night.
'How dare she? How fucking dare she?'
I'm so lost in my thoughts, in the red haze of my anger, that I almost miss the shadow that falls over me. Almost. But you don't survive long as a superhero without developing a sixth sense for danger.
I look up, my eyes widening as I spot her floating above me.
Skye.
Super Star.
The most powerful cape in the world and the bane of my existence. She hovers there, backlit by the setting sun, her silhouette outlined in a halo of golden light. It would be breathtaking if it didn't make me want to vomit.
"Looking for me?" she asks, her voice dripping with condescension.
The sight of her, so casual, so fucking arrogant, makes something snap inside me. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm screaming at her.
"You!" I spit, my voice raw with fury. "You bitch! Leave my brother alone! You did enough to this world's Luke!"
Skye descends slowly, touching down on the ground with infuriating grace. Her cape billows around her dramatically, stirred by a wind I can't feel. Her green eyes lock onto mine, filled with an intensity that would make most people quake in their boots.
But I'm not most people.
Skye's eyes bore into mine, their emerald depths swirling with a mixture of amusement and something darker, more predatory.
"How much did he tell you?" Skye asks, her voice low and melodious, carrying an undercurrent of danger.
I clench my fists at my sides, willing myself to stand my ground against her overwhelming presence. "Enough to make my skin crawl," I spit back, my words laced with venom.
A smirk plays at the corners of Skye's mouth, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. "Oh," she purrs. "So he told you we were happily married in his world?"
The words hit me like a physical blow. I feel the color drain from my face, my stomach lurching as if I've been punched. "No," I whisper. "He certainly didn't tell me that."
Skye's smirk widens into a full-blown grin, her teeth gleaming white in the fading light. She looks so arrogant, so sure of herself, that I want to scream. Instead, I stand there, frozen, as she continues.
"And get this," she says, her voice filled with a self-satisfied joy. "The other me died five years ago, and he never got over her."
I stand there, dumbfounded, my mind reeling as it tries to process this information. The world seems to tilt on its axis. Everything I thought I knew about this new version of my brother suddenly called into question.
Skye leans in even closer, "Your brother is hopelessly in love with me."
She pulls back, her eyes dancing with triumph as she takes in my shocked expression.
"He's mine now," Skye continues, her voice taking on a possessive edge that makes my blood run cold. "In every universe, in every timeline, Luke belongs to me. It's fate, little speedster. You can't outrun destiny."
I feel my resolve crumbling under the weight of Skye's words. The thought of Luke, my brother, even if he's from another universe, falling into Skye's clutches again makes my stomach churn. I can't let history repeat itself, can't let her destroy another version of my beloved brother.
"Please," I whisper. "Just leave him alone."
Skye's eyes glitter. She shrugs, the motion exaggerated and mocking. "Sure, why not?" she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "But then what happens when he comes looking for me? That's not my fault, is it?"
The casual way she tosses out these words as if Luke's fate is nothing more than a game to her, ignites a fresh wave of anger in my chest. But beneath that anger is a creeping sense of desperation. I know, deep down, that she's right. If Luke is anything like the brother I lost, he won't stay away from her.
"Please..." I repeat, hating how weak and pathetic I sound. But for Luke, I'd swallow my pride a thousand times over.
Something in my tone must reach Skye because her expression shifts. The mocking smirk fades, replaced by a seriousness I've rarely seen on her face. She raises one finger, the gesture oddly solemn in the gathering twilight.
"In my life, Lucy," she begins, her voice low and intense, "I have exactly one regret."
Skye's eyes cloud over, a distant look crossing her face as she continues. "And it technically wasn't even my fault. Luke said he wanted to marry me. I was 12, and I awoke right there as I was hugging him. He even initiated the hug himself that poor bastard."
The world seems to slow around us, the bustling city fading into the background as Skye's words hang heavy in the air. I feel my breath catch in my throat, memories of that fateful day rushing back with painful clarity.
"Hardly anyone awakens when they're 12, and part of my power is super strength. I didn't mean to crush him. You have to know that."
As she speaks, I see a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, a crack in the impenetrable armor she always wears. For a moment, she's not Super Star, the most powerful cape in the world. She's just a girl haunted by a tragic mistake that cost her everything.
But the moment passes quickly, and I feel my anger resurging, hot and bitter in my chest. Tears blur my vision as I shake my head violently, my voice rising to a shout.
"I don't care!" I scream my words echoing off the surrounding buildings. "You're much worse now than you were then!"
Skye's expression hardens, her moment of vulnerability evaporating like mist in the morning sun. Her eyes flash dangerously, and the air around us seems to crackle with energy.
"Because I lost the only person who ever liked me for me!" she yells back, her voice thunderous and raw with emotion.
"This Luke," she says, her voice low and intense, "he's a chance to make things right. To have what I lost all those years ago."
I open my mouth to argue, to plead, to scream. I'm not sure which. But before I can utter a word, Skye rises into the air, her cape billowing around her like wings of darkness.
"Stay the fuck out of my way, Lucy," she warns, her voice carrying on the wind. "You're new brother is mine now. Go back to LA."
And then that cunt flew away.
"Mom's gonna freak. No way am i saying shit." I mutter to myself.