Months Pass

After many years, there was once again the sound of children in Doomstadt.

Franklin and Valeria had their own rooms. There were private tutors who taught them science, language, history, mathematics, physical education. Game rooms provided recreation. Personal chefs and nutritionists saw to their meals. Most of Latveria was open to them, and at times Doom or one of their tutors took them out into the world.

Yet, for the most part, they remained within Doomstadt. Near their mother.

Her hospital room was the brightest, cheeriest room in the castle—if you could ignore the soft beep of machines, the tubes that fed into withered limbs. The first weeks were the worst, as the Invisible Woman seemed to waste away, unable to keep food down. She ranted and raved, and at those times Doom would order the children out of the room, for the things that spilled from her lips were obscene.

When at last she slipped into a coma, Doom took more drastic steps.

The children watched, from an observation room, as Doom navigated the folds of their mother's brain on a virtual display. With consummate skill, his nanomachines stripped the addiction from her tissues. Regenerated lost neural connections. Nor did he stop there. Hour after hour, he moved through her body, and on the displays the children could see the damage done, the ravages of Porkum's addiction—or, perhaps, what happened when Doom's nanites, aimed at eliminating Porkum's DNA, had attacked the tissues that Porkum's seed had infiltrated.

In the end, Susan Storm slept. The next day, her eyes opened. Her mind was clear.

She asked for her children.

Doctor Doom stood in the doorway as Franklin and Valeria caught up with her. Sue Storm's gaze flicked to him, suspicious, distrustful. As to be expected. After a long hug, she said:

"...why don't you two go get something to eat? Mommy and Doom need to...talk about some things."

The children left. Doom stepped into the room, and the door slid shut behind him. She gestured at him, and frowned.

"During your convalescence, you were not in control of your actions," Doom said. "The medical bracelet about your wrist is a power inhibitor. Twist the catch to remove it."

Sue Storm did so. As it fell free she glanced at Doom. He was not surprised as a gigantic invisible hand gripped him and lifted him off the sheets.

"How much do they know, Victor?" she asked. "About Porkum?"

"Almost nothing," Doom said. "They contacted me shortly after they returned to the Baxter Building. They saw you were...not yourself. The rest of the Fantastic Four was absent. They appealed to me for help. I had been monitoring your situation, and chose to intercede."

Their eyes met. Sue's jaw worked. She set Doom down.

"You knew what he was doing to me?" Sue asked, weakly. "You know what I did?"

"My analysis of his mutant powers showed them to be reminiscent of the Mandrill. Your physical condition when I rescued you suggests repeated and violent sexual ****," he said.

Her blonde head dipped. Tears ran down her face.

"It wasn't...I wanted it to happen..." Sue said. "I told Reed...I disabled the beacon..."

"You were under the effects of a powerful and addictive biological stimulant, Susan. You were not responsible for your actions. I have placed a monitor in the Baxter Building. The rest of the Fantastic Four has not yet returned from their interdimensional journey, but should they do so, I will be made aware of it immediately. You need not fear on that account. I have given my word to your son, to not hinder their return."

She raised her head. There were many more tears to shed. Many more questions to answer.

"I need...I need to get out of here," she said. "I need to find them, to..."

For the first time, Doom moved from the doorway. He crossed the floor in three strides, to stand at her bedside.

"Susan. You have just emerged from a complex surgery, after weeks of a harrowing physical ideal. You must rest. You must heal. For your children's sake. I promised them that I would see you returned to health. Look at yourself."

He gestured at her thin limbs, the skin so pale it seemed almost transparent.

"Understand me, Susan. You and your children are not prisoners here. You are my guest. Your children are my wards, until you complete your recovery. No harm shall come to them," he spoke softly, and some of the iron left his voice. She stared through the slits in his mask, at his human eyes, surrounded by scar tissue. "On that, you have my word."

Sue Storm wavered. There were years of distrust between them, a gulf which was not to be bridged in a single conversation. Yet she sighed, exhausted even by this brief conversation, and sank back into her pillows. Doom took this as acquiescence, and turned to leave. He was at the door when he heard her voice.

"Victor?" she said. "Porkum is dead, isn't he?"

He paused. "Yes. Porkum will not hurt you or any other woman ever again."

She did not say thanks. Nor did he really expect her to. The tears continued to flow from her eyes as she felt the sting of loss.

Now that Sue Storm was conscious again, the children's schedule changed. They spent hours with their mother. Sometimes Doom accompanied them, sometimes he did not. The affairs of state filled some of his own hours, though he found time to play chess with Valeria, and to quiz Franklin about his lessons during dinner. As Sue's conditions improved and she moved into physical therapy, she joined them at these meals.

The blonde shuffled into the dining room at first in her slippers, and leaned on Doom for support. Yet her strength returned by degrees, day by day. Exercises in bed gave way to swimming. Then running. Running was last; her endurance not what it had been before her "incident." As her condition improved, Sue Storm's room shifted. The hospital bed gave way to a regular bed; clothes filled her closet; makeup and toiletries; a selection of novels from her favorite authors. When she asked, she was provided with a computer tablet that connected to the internet, to her email.

The visits from the therapist had been unexpected. Latverian-American name Magda Hesse, born and trained in New York City. She spoke with Sue in private, each day. Helped Sue work through her emotions, the memory lapses, the trauma of her relationship with Porkum. At first, Sue had been suspicious of her, sure that every word would go back to Doom—yet as the days turned into weeks, she found herself opening up to Magda as a sympathetic ear.

There were other reasons too. Sue woke up at night in cold sweats. Erotic nightmares assailed her. Sudden urges had her doubled over, clutching her knees as she fought the filthy needs that burned inside of her. Even with Porkum's chemicals stripped from her brain, she couldn't forget his words, the things she had done with him. Or her terrible desire to do those things again, to feel that hard, hot meat between her legs, to turn her inside out, to make her his whore...

The urges faded a bit with time and medication. Though Sue knew she was different now. That her experience, what had been done to her and what she had done, had changed something within her. That took time to process...and Doom gave her that time.

She and Doom spoke too. About the children, their studies and progress. He praised Valeria's intellect, and Franklin's creativity. The speed with which they were picking up written and spoken Latverian. The monarch asked about the books she had been reading, the films she watched on her tablet. To her surprise she found him engaging, interested. It reminded her of when she and Reed were courting. The way that incredible brain could focus totally on her was uncanny, as though he looked at her through a microscope, and could see down to her very soul.

Not that Sue could share that particular insight with her host. Even with her powers, the Invisible Woman had few illusions about taking on Doctor Doom in his own domain—and with her children as potential hostages. No, there would be time for such a confrontation, if it came down to that, when she was at full strength.

So they carried on, until four months to the day after she had been carried from the Baxter Building. The final inspection was carried out by Doctor Doom himself. A careful full-body scan in his own laboratory. Focused in on the microscopic damage in her brain and nervous system.

"Physically, your health is perfect," he said, as Sue stepped out of the scanner. She wore a white-and-blue dress in a traditional Latverian pattern, which hung off her shoulders in little ruffles but left her arms bare. "How do you feel?"

Sue Storm considered.