“Where have you been?”

I silently curse as the lights flicker on. Cecile stands in our living room doorway, arms folded and brow raised, an expectant look on her face.

I stare back at her nonplussed, my mind churning for a believable excuse. I have broken out into a sweat, my neck and palms clammy.

“Well?” Cecile continues, tilting her head to one side. “It’s 3 in the morning, for God’s sake. I’m waiting, John.”

I swallow, tongue darting out to wet my dry lips. I’m at battle with myself, torn between the only two options I have in my arsenal: to either lie, and risk losing the woman I love, or tell the truth… and also risk losing the woman I love. Not exactly a winning situation.

I let out a deep sigh, shoulders sagging.

“Okay,” I say, as I gesture for Cecile to make her way into the living room and sit down. “I’ll tell you.”

Cecile’s scepticism is evident by the twitch of her lips, but she obliges and goes to sit on the sofa. I follow and stand in front of her by the mantle piece.

I have been waiting for this moment, when I would have to reveal all. Admittedly, not quite like this… but beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. Some may say I deserve it, having kept this from Cecile for far longer than I should have. There were times when it came close, but then the moment would be gone, and I would convince myself that the timing just wasn’t quite right...

But what moment would ever be right, one could argue. It’s not every day someone has to tell another person that they’re… unique.

“John?” Her voice cuts through my mind like a knife.

Time’s up. It’s now or never.

“I was working,” I tell her, voice keen with honesty. It’s not technically a lie.

Cecile opens her mouth in indignation and I quickly hurry on.

“Please, just listen,” I ask of her. “Once I’m done, you can say or do anything you want. Just - just let me explain.”

Cecile remains silent, the only sign that tells me she is willing to comply. My stomach writhes, and I inwardly berate myself.

I have faced far worse things than this, and yet here I am more terrified than I have ever been in my life.

“This isn’t easy for me,” I tell her, knowing that I’m stalling. “Even I don’t know where to start.”

Words are failing me. If I don’t come out with it soon, I know Cecile will walk.

“Perhaps it would be better if I show you.”

“Show me?” Cecile echoes, and I note the rigidity of her shoulders. I’m beginning to scare her. “How?”

I don’t reply, but instead take a couple of deep breaths before holding out my arm, hand curled tightly in a fist. Cecile watches me with weary eyes.

Slowly I open up my palm, concentrating on the small bead of light that hovers just above my hand. With a slight flex of my fingers the bundle begins to grow, casting the room in a pearlescent light.

I bring my other arm up, curving my hand around the growing sphere. I can feel its power surge through me, and I close my eyes in a heady bliss as I enjoy the thrumming waves of energy pulse through my body.

I resist the pull to fully transform, and slowly bring myself round as I absorb the light back into me. A small sigh escapes me, and I open my eyes to look at Cecile. She stares back at me, eyes wide and mouth dropped open.

“I’m the Omega,” I explain with a shrug, as if it were really that simple, “and tonight I snuck out to Budapest in an attempt to stop the Hungarian government from being infiltrated by aliens.”

If possible, Cecile’s mouth falls open even further.

“It worked, by the way,” I continue, not being able to hide how proud I am at having succeeded. “The people of Hungary are now safe once again. So, you see, I really was working.”

Cecile is still looking up at me in shock, unable to take in what I have just shown her. The swell of pride I had felt moments before deflates quicker than a popped balloon.

“Cee,” I begin, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. It rests limply in mine. “Please say something.”

Still nothing. Cecile appears to be in a state of complete petrification.

I hesitate unsure of how to proceed. It’s going better, thus far, than even I had anticipated. Most of the time, when I had dared think about this moment, it finished with Cecile running as far away from me as possible. Admittedly, this is still a possibility, but the fact that her hand still lies in mine (albeit loosely), gives me a small glimmer of hope.

I bring her hand up to my lips and chastely kiss it. Her eyes flicker to mine.

“You - you’re - what?”

I push down the urge to laugh at Cecile’s disbelief, her face a picture of puzzlement. I’m well aware of how quickly her temperament can change.

“I’m the Omega,” I reply. “I’m a superhero.”

“Right,” the breath she lets out is shaky, “of course you are.”

I feel her fingers curl round mine and squeeze gently. My heart soars at this gesture. Perhaps - just perhaps - she’ll be able to accept this. Accept me.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” I whisper, “and I’m sorry that I haven’t told you before. I wanted too, y’know, but I was scared. I didn’t know how you’d react. I can appreciate that it’s a lot to take in.”

Cecile lets out a hesitant laugh. “You could say that.”

“Will you give me a chance to explain?” I ask, hoping she will give me an opportunity to finally tell it all.

She lets out another shaky breath. “I have a lot of questions, John. And I’ll need you to be honest with me when answering them.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I say, relief washing through me. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Where do you want me to start?”

Hand still in mine, Cecile relaxes against the back of the sofa. There are still elements of shock on her face, but these are slowly waning as her features become more alive with curiosity.

Our eyes meet.

“Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”