Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once again, the day wastes away inside the pentagon’s security prison complex. Under the control of uptight security guards and delusional psychiatrists, (Y/N) amongst a few degenerates bore themselves with “all you can eat” jello and card games.

(Y/N), a newly discovered monster, sat aback in the corner of the room where she witnessed the scene of a blob monster and fish-man fight during slap jack. Bob, a gelatinous creature, stuffs cards from the deck into his body sneakily. Link’s scaly claws clutches his head at the sight before him—losing his mind as the card keeps disappearing from the deck.

Link tosses his cards over the worn down table. He seethes in rage and points at Bob, “This is bullshit! How are you winning, again?

Bob, ever the calm creature, smiles at the compliments. “Perhaps I am the superior monster of us all. My smartness has no limits.”

“And perhaps you forget that smartness isn’t a real word, gelatin,” a voice interrupts.

Dr. Cockroach plucks the cards from Bob’s body to lay them on the table. His lips curl at the slime against his fingers, rubbing them harshly against Link’s skin.

Link’s face sours immediately at the touch. He swats Dr. Cockroach's hands away allowing for the insect to run off behind (Y/N)’s leg. (Y/N), ever not fond of insects, retracts her leg slightly from Dr. Cockroach.

“You raised your hands against me! Oh, sleep with one eye open,” Dr. Cockroach cries out. He points at Link’s unapologetic face whilst he continues to stack cards into a new deck.

Link shrugs his shoulders in circles and cries out in disbelief. His head falls onto the table in outcry, “I’m fucking bored!”

Bob creates hands to caress Link’s head, “Look on the bright side, we have all you can eat jello.”

Link’s rolls off Bob’s hand. “Oh really? Bob, what are you made out of?”

Bob scratches his eye, releasing a few air bubbles inside the gelatin. “Uhh duh, jello. Oh wait…”

Link stares at him in slight disappointment. He walks away from the table toward (Y/N)‘s corner. “Always the same with these freaks.”

(Y/N) minds herself to entertain the large windowless walls, searching for any slight cracks inside the facility. If the monsters are fighting, she is constantly looking for an escape.

“Ginormous,” Link calls out. “Earth to Ginormica!”

Link walks over to Dr. Cockroach seeing (Y/N) ignores him. “She’s always in her own little world.”

The scientist sighs aloud. “She is the most human out of us all— perhaps she is experiencing psychosis.” He whispers the last part between himself and Link.

Link agrees silently. Monsters frequently lose their minds; either due to a traumatic transformation or due to a lack of vitamins from unnatural light.

Hopefully, the rest would not suffer from her meltdown. Despite his prideful ways, Link happened to want to keep his body intact; catching a stray with Ginormica would be sudden death.

Ginormica happened to be alien by all standards of physics.

Considering her stature towers nearly over 49 inches (barely, contained in most rooms inside the pentagon), (Y/N) could not briskly walk without tearing apart public property. Her strength passes beyond kaiju level force and her durability is on par with Omni-Man.

Whatever rock smashed into her spine alters her physiology beyond a molecular level of strength and endurance. A couple doctors gush over her abilities daily, whilst (Y/N) did not appear to have her mind stable enough for conversation.

At eighteen, she is now government property. The rest of her life, as some bald white man recited, would be to “serve the commonwealth of America.”

Thus she is hidden behind the six faces of the prison walls and metals to conceal her identity. She bites her nails every minute in boredom of the lack of entertainment offered inside her cell.

She searches daily for a source of light and prays to some God that would offer sanctuary. Alas after months (perhaps longer), (Y/N) still is the tallest human on Earth and called “Ginormica” by the entire world.

“Kill me right now,” (Y/N) drags her knees towards her chest and tucks her head inside.

“MONSTER ALERT! KAIJU LEVEL THREAT—PREPARE FOR DEPLOYMENT!”

A blaring siren sounds off in the facility, pulsing through the walls. (Y/N) winces as the speaker closest to her ears mocks her eardrums.

She looks around in fear where the doors slowly unravel themselves to reveal the military. Guns and heavy artillery face the monsters from every angle.

Then the sea splits to reveal two men— one with the charisma of a shark and another who looks constipated upon arrival.

Link jumps forward to scare the pudgy man. His claws reach forward as his back hunches to pounce, “RAHHH!”

The man reacts almost entirely, dropping his entire belonging to the floor. He heaves heavily clutching his hands against his chest.

Link snickers patting the man’s back, “Oh Donald! Glad to know I still make you piss your pants.”

The bald eagle (mostly, (Y/N) finds him decrepit and judgemental) watches from afar. “Try not to give my employees heart attacks— or else I’ll install shock collars to your necks.”

Dr. Cockroach's hazel eyes scrutinize Cecil, coming forth to the group with an agitated voice. He bites out, “It wouldn’t be beyond you to do it while we sleep, Cecil.”

Cecil shrugs off the comments. “I try to do my job well.”

“He can’t beat the sadist allegations,” Link utters near Dr. Cockroach’s shoulder and wraps his elbow around the insect’s neck. The latter chortles slightly with his hand threatening to slap against his knees loudly.

The small moment dulls, edging to a serious note.

A sharp tooth smile reveals itself from Link’s mouth. “So, what the hell do you need us for now? It’s not everyday we see your ugly ass.”

Unamused, Cecil resigns himself to be civil. “I need you to scatter across Chicago and deal with some aliens.”

“Oh, perfect. Aliens.”

Chapter Text

(Y/N) did not know what to conclude about Chicago other than the few times she visited the Grayson family’s home. Her father, (F/N), used to work as a navy seal but took up farming to achieve a peaceful lifestyle. He befriended Nolan Grayson after working with him at the Global Defense Agency.

It would be a small gathering between the adults during the third week of every month to spend time together. Debbie, Nolan, (F/N), as well as some other friends would enjoy conversation over dinner. The children would play in the backyard to their devices.

(Y/N) did not particularly find these outings to be pleasant. Much of her life has been spent jumping between family friends and colleagues whilst her father was deployed. She surrounded herself with more stuffed animals than children during those gatherings.

(Y/N) did not react immediately to play with children her age. However, Mark Grayson always made it a habit to make her smile.

“Look (Y/N)!” Mark bellows as he jumps to her side. He wiggles his tongue to showcase the missing front teeth in his gums. “I finally lost all my baby teeth!”

(Y/N) gazes at his toothless mouth in disbelief. “Wow… imagine how much money you’ll get from the tooth fairy.”

Mark grins at her. “Imagine how many seance dog comics I can get.”

(Y/N) giggles at his comment. They continued to entertain themselves (mostly Mark discussing a random superhero fact and (Y/N) nodding along).

It is clear as day when the two encounter each other. They stuck to each other’s hips and shoulders for as long as (Y/N) could visit. In fact, they often hide behind couches and chairs to evade leaving Mark’s house later.

(Y/N)’s best friend is Mark Grayson. However, after high school her best friend became a ghost in her life. There was hardly any word of Mark’s whereabouts; neither a single mention of his family from her father.

She decided she never wanted to return to Chicago.

★★★

(Y/N)’s woke up in a cold sweat, stomach ache, and an unusual sense of paranoia stretched through her aching limbs. Something she could not explain in words, but expressed through a steely glare at the bright sky.

“It’s hot like a mother fucker out here,” (Y/N) mumbles out, pulling her sweaty shirt away from her skin. She sighs for the umptenth time and looks for her dad’s slouchy back.

He pulls a crate filled to the brim with a selection of pumpkins, peaches, and apples plucked from our recent harvest. He drops the last box inside the trunk of the 1970 Chevy pickup truck.

(F/N) chuckles at his daughter’s expression. “Quit your staring—the sun’s just gonna shine brighter.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “And I thought it would just rotate away.” She leans next to the trunk, placing her arms beside the metal. Her arms rest over her chest, caging herself to keep eye contact with the dirt.

“You sure it’s alright for you to go alone? Ain’t no big deal with me going.”

(F/N), still lifting his crates, waves off his daughter’s concerns. “Nah, it’s nothin’ I can’t handle.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders sag slightly at his words. (F/N) sighs as he ruffles his daughter’s hair. She swats his hand away, however smiles at his affection.

She bid him farewell with a small kiss on his cheek.

When the sun’s horizon shifted into bloody splotches, (Y/N) felt uneasy. She remained glued to her seat gently rocking back and forth in the porches rocking chair, clutching the wooden arms. Her loyal companion, Goose, a senior Beagle curled at her feet staring at the sky. His cloudy eyes sharp and ears upturned at the slightest hint of movement.

Sound is a common occurrence living near the woods, nothing to fret about. However, the last couple of hours made (Y/N) feel unsure about anything. She hardly slept or ate, feeling sick to her stomach.

(Y/N) felt suffocated by her surroundings. She wanted to be outside.

The time was almost eight in the evening. The sky is dark, stars littering the night. The stars felt much closer and brighter at the farm than Chicago. But, the outside world seemed far closer to her desolate farm than ever before in the evening. She could feel the intense heat bubble through the outside air, itching her skin to alarming degrees.

Hours felt impossibly long. Time felt almost distant as the internet was far from an ideal distraction.

An emergency broadcast alerted the public of a superhero altercation between Omni-Man and Invincible. (Y/N) normally shrugged off the news.

Her father, unfortunately scheduled to visit Chicago, left that morning. He rejected technology to his grave, opting to use only a landline.

Try with all her might, (Y/N) could not shake her anticipation for his arrival. Her mother prayed for the best, but (Y/N) delved further into paranoia for the worst.

(Y/N) did her best to keep herself busy with work, but it hardly mattered.

Such as this moment, when she spotted Goose alert more than usual. He remained transfixed in the sky. Growls trapped deep inside his throat and chest taunt to pounce upon any moment.

(Y/N) dropped her fingers to Goose’s head, caressing away the tension in his body. It seemed to reduce his anxiety, but to minimal success.

She learned as a young girl to trust an animal’s instincts.

As part of her chores, (Y/N) would collect eggs from the chicken coup. Goose headed her trail oftentimes and would lead her to the barn.

One morning the canine quickly became erratic and guarded the door; he refused to allow (Y/N) inside until her father had to intervene. Behind the barn’s doors was a rabid wolf wrecking the chicken coup.

(Y/N) never questioned Goose or any animal’s behavior again. (Y/N) lowers her brow, knitting them together in anticipation. “Dad?” She questions.

She prayed it was her father, driving in the truck through the driveway. She prays for him to greet her with his bashful smile saying, “I gotcha!”. The imagination is strong enough to drive anyone insane.

A wild wind similar to a drone sent Goose into a spiral. (Y/N)’s heart skips a beat. She decides to remain silent. The further the sound closens the more air fails to escape (Y/N)’s lungs. Her knees feel like jello and her thighs threaten to fall like an uneven stack of cards.

Goose suddenly rushed to the fields, barking at nothing. (Y/N) tried to pull him back from his collar, however the old hound dog remained fixated on the skyline. He still had some strength.

The sound stops although Goose’s growling does not stop. Suddenly, Goose runs towards the forest with (Y/N) slipping onto her face.

She hurries to pull herself up and runs inside the forest. “Goose!”

Twigs scrape aggressively into her skin, peeling apart her elbows in long gashes. In the middle of a fork, (Y/N) brings her hands up to call out again, “Goose! Where are you?!?”

(Y/N) shrieks in frustration, dropping onto the dirt as tears leak from her eyes. “Don’t leave me alone,” she hiccups between sobs.

Between tears flowing down her cheeks, she feels a furry back rub at her elbows. Whether from fear or happiness, Goose pants in front of (Y/N)’s face and licks her fingers. The slight sting on her skin does not faze her anymore.

(Y/N) caresses his fur, gripping him in the same affection. “You silly goose,” she manages to say with a nervous chuckle. “Let’s go home.”

She pushes herself back up against the dirt, brushes the small twigs from her hands. A sudden whirl creeps by her ears, thrumming through the air in gentle waves. (Y/N) hears the same drone sound overhead.

A blinding light flashes her face. Underneath the hand covering her squinting eyes, a black dot appears to grow into a large mass falling towards her face. (Y/N) begins to run along with Goose, however she is unable to outrun the rock from crushing her spine.

Goose barks loudly, crying as his owner is buried beneath a giant blue asteroid.