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Mitch can’t sleep. It’s a quiet night to the end of a busy day— directly after they arrived in Gateway City, the Supermen of America had a very lengthy meeting with the city council about what they have to offer and what exactly goes on within their satellite centers and how their charity operates and what training looks like and all other sorts of things that Mitch can’t exactly remember. Lots of business stuff that flies over his head sometimes, but he tries to retain it as best as possible. Although Joaquin covered most of the talking, as he always does, Mitch had to pitch in frequently too, being team leader and everything… Not that he minds!
He loves what they’re doing, he really does, he wouldn’t spend so much time dedicated to it otherwise, but being the leader is a lot of work. Plus, it’s a little disheartening having to prove themselves over and over again, like the fact that no matter how far their influence spreads, people still aren’t convinced of their mission. Or people think because they’re so young, they have no clue what they’re doing. It’s not like he totally blames them… the Supermen of America know what it means to trust the wrong people. Mitch knows what it means to trust the wrong people. The wrong person. Can you blame him for that, though? Hm, well. He blames himself.
The distrust they face really only bothers him because sometimes, Mitch really does feel like he’s the wrong person to be trusted. He likes to think he’s a decent leader, but it takes a lot of work. It doesn’t really come naturally to him like it comes to someone like Superman… he definitely tries his hardest. But, you know, on occasion, he feels like he’ll never measure up to the big leagues. They’re perfect at their jobs. Mitch… isn’t.
All of the sudden, the motel room feels stifling. It’s hard to breathe, anxiety and guilt bubbling up inside of his chest. Mitch can feel the weight of all the harm he’s caused, all the people who have died because of him, crashing down onto him. Tears form as one part of his mind tries to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, you did the best you could, but the much louder part cries but it wasn’t good enough. He failed. He’s failed so many people. How many more people is he going to fail as a hero? As a brother, as a son? He’s not a superhero, not really.
He’s just a fresh high school graduate who happens to have some metahuman abilities. Just because he tries his best doesn’t mean he’s an actual superhero. He’s not… he’s not like Superman or Wonder Woman, who actually do something. They help people, a lot. They don’t fuck up astronomically at every mission and cause more damage in the process. Bile rises into his mouth and Mitch instantly swallows it back down. It hurts more than it did coming up. It’s what he deserves. Fuck. He’s going to spiral for eternity if he stays within this room. Mitch kicks off the sheets, not bothering to slip on any shoes as he exits the room as quietly as he can.
Once he’s outside, he feels like he can finally breathe again. Mitch grips the balcony railing, letting his nervous energy release into magnetic bursts through the metal, tethering him to it. The air is sticky and warm, a product of their proximity to the beach. He focuses on the gentle lull of the waves, attempting to steady his breathing by matching it. In. Out. He can taste the salt of the air as he does so. It’s comforting, despite the fact that Mitch has never lived anywhere on the coast. Maybe he’ll ask Maria to let them have a beach day before they leave for a new city. He thinks it’d be a good break. For all of them.
Although he feels a bit more grounded, Mitch still feels fuzzy, with his anxieties still festering in the back of his mind. He tries to take a few more deep breaths. Somewhere off in the distance, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot goes off. It’s faint, not anywhere close to him, but Mitch recoils anyways. He swears he can smell blood. Suddenly, the air that was once comforting is suffocating. His tears turn into full force sobs. Mitch’s mind is filled with images of the concert, of Junior getting shot, of Tim dying instead of him. Sometimes he wishes that Tim didn’t move at the last second. Sometimes he really wishes that Biggs got him. Without thinking, because he can’t think, his thoughts are so loud, he accidentally lets out a burst of magnetism, big enough to create some sound. And put a dent the shape of his hands in the railing. Shit. He’s really got to get himself under control.
The salt from the sea scratches his throat as he violently gasps down air. He needs to calm the fuck down. He tries to focus on his hands as he breathes, reforming the metal with his powers. Mitch barely hears the door open and close behind him. He does, however, hear his girlfriend’s voice loud and clear.
“Mitch? I heard a noise and you weren’t there. Is… Are you okay?” Nona slowly approaches him, her usually confident footsteps unsure. He can picture the look on her face, the little frown that she does, with her brow slightly furrowed, but he feels like he can’t move. His hands still have an iron grip on the railing, magneticism sticking him to it. The world around him feels so distorted that he’s scared of letting go. He wants to turn around, look her in the eyes, hold her hand, but he can’t. Mitch shakes his head. He can hear her say something to herself, quiet enough that it’s impossible to make it out over his ragged breathing.
“Hey. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’ve got you. I always do,” Nona leans to wrap her arms around his torso, hugging Mitch from behind. He jolts a little. He likes the touch, a lot actually, it helps ground him, which is exactly why it’s so jarring. He feels like he’s rapidly being pulled down to a reality he doesn’t quite belong in. Is this how Theo feels all of the time? Floaty, disconnected from the world? It feels awful. Just then, he feels an incredible force where Nona’s holding him. He glances down, even though he knows what it is by touch alone.
She’s using her aura. Just the thought of it makes him smile. It’s not like this is the first time she’s used it like this but… it’s still special, it’s not like she does it often. The fact that Nona uses her powers, something made for battle, to comfort him makes his heart swell. Man, he loves her so much. Mitch isn’t sure what he’d do without her. The deep pressure from her aura is not only grounding, but the meaning behind the gesture is definitely helping him calm down too. She really knows him better than anyone else, huh? Mitch lets out a small laugh at the thought. Of course she does. It’s Nona.
She must hear him, because she presses a kiss to his tear-stained cheek, and says, “Coming back to me?”
“Yeah,” his voice is shaky, but he’s feeling a hell of a lot better. Not great, but he doesn’t feel like the world is crashing down on him, so… progress. He takes another deep breath, slowly pulling his hands away from the railing. There’s some resistance, but he’s finally able to move around. With his newfound freedom, he turns around to bury his face in Nona’s shoulder, hands moving to hug her back. He can practically see her smiling as she kisses the top of his head.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Nona drops her aura and moves one of her hands to run it through his hair, “but I mean it when I say I’ve got you, Mitch. You can always lean on me. I love you.” He presses a kiss to her neck, acknowledging what she’s said. He does want to talk, honestly, he’s just not ready for it yet. She hums in response. They’ve gotten pretty good at understanding what the other is saying through touch alone, both on the battlefield and off it.
After however long of letting Nona pet his hair, Mitch pulls away from her shoulder to face her. She brings down her hand to cradle his face, the other still resting around his hip, as he speaks, “I love you too. I… I just, I don’t know. I was having trouble sleeping, and I started getting to thinking. I know, bad idea, right?” Nona shoots him A Look and a weak laugh dies in his throat. He glances down instead.
“Sorry... I uh. I really was just thinking, though, and somehow I started panicking. You know how I can get,” Nona nods, because she’s seen it happen before. It hasn’t been this bad in a while, though.
“So, I decided I needed to get out of the room, get some fresh air! It really was helping. Then I heard a gun go off and I, um, totally started spiraling again. And I just kept thinking man, sometimes I wish I got shot instead. Maybe I wouldn’t be such a lousy leader. It sounds really stupid when I say it out loud,” he chews on his lip as he speaks, nervous about Nona’s reaction, even though he has no real reason to be. After a moment, he decides to look back at her.
Nona looks worried in a way he’s never really seen before. She looks shocked, almost. Like she can’t quite believe what he just said. Mitch feels like he just broke his girlfriend’s heart a little. Another pang of guilt hits him. Nona must notice, it has to show on his face, because she moves her other hand up to fully cradle his face and leans in.
“Oh, Mitch. Don’t you know how amazing you are? You’re a fantastic leader. Nobody expects you to never make a mistake, X'Hal knows that I’ve made plenty. It’s what we do with those mistakes, Mitch. I’ve seen you learn and grow from them. You’re trying your hardest with what you’ve got and that’s enough. You’re the leader, but sometimes you forget there’s a whole team here with you. None of us are perfect, but we make a damn good team. We’ll all be here to catch you,” Nona takes a deep breath. Mitch can tell she’s choosing her next words carefully, sees it in the way her eyes dart around.
“And don’t— Don’t ever say that you should’ve died again, okay? That was an awful night where nothing should have happened the way it did. No one should have died at all. Just because things went wrong doesn’t mean that you should have died. If anything, I’m to blame so… Mitch, please don’t go thinking you’re better off dead. You’re not, I promise,” as Nona’s voice wavers, Mitch nods.
“Okay. I’m sorry, Nona,” he sniffles, the last of his tears drying up. He does feel bad, waking her up and worrying her like this.
“Don’t be sorry, you idiot. Just… wake me up and talk to me next time. Hell, talk to Theo or Joaquin or Maria or somebody. We all care about you. I don’t want you alone and feeling like this,” she says. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Feeling guilty and kind of suicidal while alone probably isn’t good for him. Nona somehow always knows what’s best.
"I wonder if Superman’s ever had to have his girlfriend calm him down. Wait, does he have a girlfriend?” the two of them burst out into laughter, then remembering the time, make a poor attempt at trying to keep themselves quiet. Mitch catches himself yawning.
Nona pulls his face close to give him another kiss on the forehead, then drops her hands so she can pull him forward, “Come on, let’s get you back to bed, you S-geek.”