I stood in front of the phone, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The sleek, black screen felt cold under my fingers as I swiped through the options, searching for the one thing I needed to do. There was no turning back now.
The numbers in front of me were incomprehensible—far beyond anything a normal person could dream of, let alone someone like me. Yet, they were real. Every digit. Every penny. My heart hammered in my chest, a mix of excitement and doubt swirling in my veins.
I didn't want to do this. But I had to.
Money had never meant much to me, not in the way it did for other people. It was just a tool, a means to an end. But now, in this moment, it meant something more. This was me, making a choice—doing something that, for once, wasn't about my own gain. Something I could give back. Finally, I was going to do right by her.
I tapped the screen with deliberate care, entering the numbers quickly, sending the funds with an ease that belied the gravity of the action. There was no hesitation as the transfer went through, the confirmation flashing on the screen before me.
Done.
Still, the knot in my chest refused to loosen. Had I done enough? Was it even possible to give her what she truly deserved? Or would she look at the screen and see what it was—just a lifeline I didn't know how to offer without feeling like an apology?
I didn't wait for an answer. I locked the phone, slipping it back into my pocket before I could second-guess myself again.
With a deep breath, I snapped my fingers.
The familiar pulse of light surrounded me, and the scene around me shifted. In an instant, the sterile luxury of my new life faded away, replaced by the soft, cozy comfort of my mother's living room. The scent of old books lingered in the air, and I could hear the hum of the air conditioner in the background.
She was sitting in her usual chair, the well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice open in her hands. She hadn't noticed my arrival, lost in her own thoughts.
But she would soon.
"Mom," I said, my voice sounding too casual, too forced even to my own ears. "I've got some money now. A lot of it."
She blinked, looking up from her book, surprised. "Franklin? Where were you? I hadn't seen you since you left for school."
I tried to smile, but it felt wrong. It wasn't the usual smug grin. This was different. "This isn't about me. It's about you."
My heart raced, my breath quickened. I could feel the weight of every word.
"No more worrying about bills. No more late nights. No more struggling," I said, my voice low, softer than I expected. "I'm retiring you."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Retire me? Franklin, you can't just—"
"I already did," I said, cutting her off, more firmly than I felt. "You're done. No more working. No more nothing. I'm giving you everything you need. Anything you want."
I didn't give her time to process before I grabbed the phone again. My thumb moved across the screen with precision, pulling up the transfer details. The numbers gleamed brightly on the display, impossible to ignore.
"Right now," I said, locking eyes with her, "you're a millionaire."
She froze. Her gaze locked onto the phone screen, and I could see the disbelief flash across her face as the numbers took root in her mind. The weight of what I'd just done seemed to hang in the air, thick and almost suffocating. For a moment, she didn't move, didn't speak—just stared at the glowing digits as if they were some sort of illusion.
"You…" Her voice faltered as she looked up at me, her brow furrowing with confusion and a hint of fear. "You did this for me? How?"
I took a deep breath, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. The way she looked at me—like I had just done something impossibly foreign—made me feel like I was a stranger to her in that moment. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't about me trying to prove something; this was my way of finally showing her I had learned, that I saw everything she had done for me.
"How?" I repeated softly, my voice almost trembling. "I've got... access to resources. I've made some decisions, things you don't need to worry about. What matters is that you don't have to worry anymore. It's all for you."
I swallowed hard, unsure if I was making this better or worse, but she deserved an explanation even if it felt impossible to give.
Her gaze flickered between the phone and me, her lips trembling slightly as she tried to wrap her head around what was happening. Her eyes softened, but there was still that trace of hesitation—the kind of hesitation that comes when someone has spent their life never expecting to be the recipient of something so immense.
"Franklin, this is…" She shook her head, clearly overwhelmed. "I never wanted—" She stopped herself, her hands shaking slightly as they dropped to her sides. She didn't seem to know whether she should reach for me, for the phone, or just sit in stunned silence.
I stepped forward slowly, keeping my eyes on hers. "I know. I know you never asked for any of this. But I did. I saw everything. All the late nights, the bills you paid without complaint, the sacrifices you made for me. You've done so much for me... It's time you had something in return."
Her expression faltered, her breath catching as she met my gaze. "But why now? Why… why like this?"
I could feel the weight of her uncertainty bearing down on me. This wasn't about money. It was about something deeper, something I didn't always know how to express.
"I don't know how else to say it," I said quietly, my throat tight. "You've worked your whole life for me, for us. Now, it's my turn to give something back. You deserve to be happy, to not have to worry about anything. This is the least I can do."
For a long, suspended moment, she just stood there, staring at the screen of the phone, as if she couldn't fully believe what she was seeing. Her face softened in a way I hadn't seen in years, her eyes glassy with tears she was trying to hold back. Then, she took a careful step toward me.
"Franklin…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't know what you were capable of. I… I never expected this."
I nodded, the weight of everything finally hitting me. "You don't need to understand it. Just know that I did it because I wanted to. Because you deserve it."
And then, before either of us could say anything more, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close in a tight embrace. It was a wordless acknowledgment, an understanding between us that didn't need to be articulated.
I felt the pressure in my chest ease as I held her, a simple comfort in knowing that, for once, I had done something right. No tricks. No power games. Just giving back. For once, it felt like I had made a choice worth making.
"You don't have to say anything," I murmured into her hair. "Just take it. It's yours."
I didn't know how long we stood there, the weight of everything we'd both lived through settling between us. It wasn't just about the money or the gesture—it was about the years of struggle, the years of unspoken sacrifices she'd made, and the years I'd spent not knowing how to give anything back.
But now, in this moment, I had.
When she finally pulled away, her eyes were still glistening, her expression a blend of disbelief and something warmer, something I couldn't quite name. She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time—really seeing me.
"You don't have to do this," she said quietly, her voice still soft with emotion. "You don't have to fix everything. You're enough just as you are."
I shook my head, the words barely making it past my lips. "I'm not trying to fix anything. I'm just... trying to show you. For once, I want to make sure you have everything you need. I want you to be able to breathe easy."
Her lips trembled, and she nodded, but I could tell she was still processing it all. It wasn't something she could just accept in a single moment, not after everything.
"But what about you?" she asked after a moment, her brow furrowing. "What about your life? What about your future?"
I gave her a small smile, the pressure in my chest loosening with her concern. "I've got everything I need, I got a job with some big organization, S.H.I.E.L.D., they are paying big money cause' of my powers and all, I'm working with the Avengers. I've already made my choices. This is... for you. I've got time to figure things out."
Her eyes widened slightly, and she looked at me with a mixture of concern and disbelief. "S.H.I.E.L.D.? The Avengers? What are you talking about, Franklin?" she asked, her voice thick with confusion.
I couldn't help but feel a pang in my chest, but I forced a calm smile. "It's not as crazy as it sounds, Mom. I know it might seem like a lot, but it's real. I've been involved with them for a while now. They've seen what I can do, and they've offered me opportunities. I'm... working with them, helping out in ways you wouldn't believe."
Her brow furrowed deeper, and I could feel her worry intensifying. "I don't understand, Franklin. You're telling me you've been involved with something like that... all this time?"
I nodded, trying to find the right words. "It's complicated, Mom. But I'm safe. I'm more than capable of handling myself. And now... I can take care of both of us."
The silence between us stretched again, but this time it felt different. She wasn't just overwhelmed by the money or the gesture. She was trying to process everything, trying to understand the changes I'd made, the person I'd become.
After what felt like an eternity, she shook her head softly, as if to clear her thoughts. "Franklin," she started, her voice gentle but firm, "I've spent my whole life trying to protect you, trying to make sure you were safe. And now you're telling me you're doing things with... them? You don't have to do this alone, you know that, right? You don't have to take everything on yourself."
I stepped closer, taking her hands in mine, my voice steady but filled with sincerity. "I know, Mom. But you've already given me everything you could. Now, I'm trying to return the favor. I want to make sure you don't have to worry anymore. You've earned this, earned all of it. I've learned how to stand on my own, and now I'm here for you."
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, the stern mother I'd known for so long was replaced by something vulnerable. She squeezed my hands tightly, her expression still a little uncertain, but with a warmth I hadn't seen in years.
"I never wanted you to carry all of this," she said quietly, almost to herself. "But... you've always been so strong. I just want you to be happy, Franklin. That's all I've ever wanted."
I squeezed her hands back, offering her a genuine smile. "I am happy, Mom. Because now... now I can see how much you've given me. How much we've been through. I'm doing this for us, together. We're not in this alone anymore."
Her lips trembled again, but this time it was a soft smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. "I guess it's about time I let you take care of things for once."
We stood there for a moment, just holding each other's gaze. It wasn't perfect, not by any means. There were still so many things we needed to talk through, so many things I didn't know how to explain. But for the first time in a long while, there was a sense of peace between us. A sense of understanding.
"I'm proud of you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
And as we stood there, in that quiet moment of mutual understanding. It wasn't just about money or power—it was about doing something that mattered. For her. For me. For us.
And, for once, I felt like I was on the right path. Leave the fun, this is me. WHoo! Whatever, bad attempt at emotion but gotta o what you gotta do.