Only Skin Deep

I thought I knew what love was. It was cold, sterile, completely pragmatic in its application. A tender stroke of a hand when the pain became too much to bear, and praise when I had performed an experiment well enough to earn my parents the accolades of their colleagues. For over twenty years, I was raised by my adoptive family, traveling the galaxy to convention after convention, experiment after experiment where I thought that I understood my lot in life. To love and to love, only to receive crumbs in return. In a great display, and the equivalent of said crumbs embedding themself into my skin when laid on them too long, my sister sent me off on my own. To grant my dreams, she said, though she didn’t consider much else in her grand plan of my salvation. Homeless and without a dollar to your name, an alien in New York City, I decided to try and make the best of my situation. It was funny. On this strange blue dot in a solar system far from everything I have ever known, I discovered there was more to life than chasing after scraps. I could be more than just a specimen for study. I could be a hero. I could be happy. I could be loved. A Fantastic Four Fanfiction (Can be read blind) Cover is a commission drawn by wayba3 on Twitter