🍑 𝘼 𝙎𝙄𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍-𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙔 🍑|| Wukong's Mom AU
» russian girl (jenia lubich) «
0:53 ──〇──── 2:36
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝
➤ This is a oneshot involving @journey-to-the-au's Clover + Marshal Liu!
➤ This is hurt/comfort.
➤ death to SEM bro.
➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include angst, hurt/comfort, self-deprication, minor injury, referenced identity theft, referenced framing, and referenced manipulation.
➤ Word count: 1,372
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
❝ I am just a simple russian girl, I've got vodka in my blood .❞
The guards are none too gentle as they throw the boy into the holding cell, making him cry out as his skin splits on rough stone. The pain is immediate, proving to him that what's happening is real—that the mighty troop of Huāguǒshān truly believes Clover poisoned their beloved King.
"W-Wait!" Clover cries, righting himself as quickly as he can. "Wait, please—!"
He reaches out to the guards, faces that had once looked on him with kindness and friendliness, only to recoil when one snaps at him, long fangs bared threatening. The boy, unfamiliar with such displays, especially from anyone on the mountain, tucks his arms close to his chest and scrambles backwards until he's pressed firmly against the wall. But even as he's out of reach of fang or claw, he can't escape their eyes.
Wrath, regret, disappoinment. Did he prove them wrong? Or prove some of them right?
"You're lucky it's us that were ordered to escort you and not Xīnshù," a mousey brown-grey male—Cypress—spits out. "If she had, I doubt you'd have made it here."
The male beside him, Pecan, scoffs. "You've an atrocious amount of gall, poisoning our King. And during a festival, no less—"
"I didn't!" Clover cries, surprising even himself at the sheer desperation that pours out of him. "I didn't do it, I'd never do it! The mountain..."
Is all I have, he wants to say. But his throat closes and he can't get the words out, try as he might. Cypress and Pecan shake their heads, closing the door and locking him into the cell.
As they turn to leave, Cypress pauses. Then, over his shoulder:
"We should have chased you out the moment you arrived, Sì'ěr."
And then Clover is alone.
Again.
The holding room is dark, barely lit by a single torch Pecan left behind. It's cold and wet and it smells like dust, like it hasn't been used in... forever. If he focuses hard enough, the four-eared macaque can get whiffs of a copper tang, making his stomach turn. So instead he buries his face into his knees and wraps his arms and tail around his legs, trying to calm himself.
You can explain. They'll understand. It wasn't me, it was—
...his own grandfather.
What had Clover done wrong? What had influenced his grandfather to... to trick him, to trick the entire troop (the one he was sworn to protect)? And why did he let Clover take the fall? Surely he didn't do it on purpose? They were family, after all; as far as blood went, they were all they had left of each other. That had to mean something.
But that smile before unconsciousness had claimed him... Clover has never seen his grandfather so happy before.
A storm of emotion lights him up inside. Rage at having been framed and tricked, grief for what he could lose, fear of what will happen if he can't convince the troop it wasn't him.
What are they thinking right now? He wonders, hot tears building in his eyes. Does Miss Xīnshù feel validated? Does she think I'm a monster? What about the queen mothers?
And then his stomach drops.
What about Pear? Mulberry, Apple, the rest of his darling friends so lovingly dubbed the Fruit Troop? What was Rin-Rin thinking? Was she worried, and if she was, for what? For him, or for her daughter, who was so often within his grasp? What... what about—
The door opens and Clover clamps his hands over his ears, waiting for the screech of stone grinding on itself. Only it never comes, at least not at the intensity he was prepared for, as if the person opening it was taking great care to avoid any unpleasant sound. But considering it's certainly not hush-hush that Clover is down here (and the only one, too), he can't imagine who'd grant him such generosity.
As a familar figure appears, silhouetted by the corridor behind them and illuminated in the dim torch light, Clover understands.
"L-Liú," Clover gasps, scrambling to his feet. He hurries to the front of the cell, hands wrapped tightly around the bars despite how it irritates the scrapes. "I'm so glad you're here."
Marshal Liú doesn't reply. He enters the room in silence, the door closing behind him. Neither does he spare Clover so much as a glance as he pads to a few more sconces and lights them. When Liú finally approaches the cell, he presses his back to the wall beside it, arms crossed. His face is pinched, eyebrows drawn together and nose wrinkled in a thinking expression. The quietness of it all is unnerving, almost suffocating for the boy. But he keeps silent, not daring to break it.
"The troop is furious," Liú finally says. Clover feels his heart pound anxiously. "Xīnshù especially, considering little Blueberry's birth."
"...I know," Clover murmurs, ears pinned.
"And to make matters worse, Wisdom and Courage have been poisoned, too."
Clover's ears immediately perk, eyes wide as fear settles into his body.
No, no, no, he couldn't have—I couldn't have... He didn't...
"Thankfully, they seem to just be asleep. Beng reckons they'll wake in a few hours," Liú continues, and the four-eared macaque can't help but suck in a deep breath of relief.
They're alright. They're going to be fine.
But is he?
Liú steps in front of Clover, then squats, meeting his eyes.
"You understand how bad this is, Clover," Liú says. "The queen mothers and the King are unconscious, save for a single clone, and you were seen both giving Wùkōng tea and giving the mothers fruit. Somehow."
The two lapse into silence with Clover trembling, tears threatening to escape him again.
Liú slowly raises a hand to cover one of the boy's, holding it gently. "No matter how we look at the evidence, you're responsible, Clover."
A sob breaks loose; he can't help it. Clover knows how bad this looks for him, knows that the odds are not in his favor. The amount of people undoubtedly on his side are barely a fraction of Huāguǒshān and no doubt will lose their power when faced with Xīnshù and the Wùkōng clone.
"I didn't do it," Clover sobs, pressing his forehead against the bars. He bends until he's nearly kowtowing, though he refuses to move his hands from Liú's. "I didn't do it. Please believe me."
Liú make a soft noise—a gentle grunt meant to soothe infants, and Clover would perhaps be embarrassed if it didn't work so well.
"I know," Liú soothes. "I know. Rin-Rin and I know you didn't." His free hand snakes through the bars and cradles Clover's face, careful of his ears, and raises his face.
Clover sputters and uses a sleeve to messily wipe his face, shaking. "I'm so sorry," he weeps, eyes shut tight. "It's all my fault. I-I'm so stupid! I'm not even smart enough to g-get my stupid powers under control! M-Maybe if I did, I could've stopped all this!"
And I'd know if Grandpa was really lying to me the whole time, he adds within his thoughts, his teeth biting into his tongue at the wave of anger that bristles down his back.
"Stop that," Liú coos, gentle. "It's not your fault, Clover. I know it's not. You're..."
Clover barely notices the pause, too caught up in all his feelings. But when a second hand cradles his face and pulls him close, his forehead barely ghosting against Liú's, he's granted a brief moment of confused reprieve.
"Liú...?" He asks softly, noticing the wet sheen in the marshal's eyes with a prick of concern.
"You're my boy," Liú whispers, voice cracking. "And in a few days, we'll catch who really did this and you'll come home."
Clover sniffles, fighting off tears once again, and laughs a little. "And Rin-Rin won't let me leave."
"And Rin-Rin won't let you leave," Liú confirms, laughing a little too.
So the two sit there, cooing softly to each other and wiping away tears and fears alike.
And when Liú has to leave, Clover keeps his chin up.
I'm not alone, he thinks.
Blue eyes flash before his mind's eye, and a determined look settles on his face.
And I won't lose to you.
❝ So I dance with brown bears, and my soul is torn apart .❞
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morales twins vigilantes: getting found out pt 2
okayyyy this part's a slight bit longer but hopefully, uh, worth it lol
kinda made myself tear up a lil at the end ahahaha
also pls don't ask when this takes place, like either in between istv and atsv or atsv and btsv.... idk bro LMFAO this is technically a whole other au in and of itself soooo yuh
disclaimer: i'm a whole ass anarchist, however miles and milo are two teenage boys who've grown up with a cop dad and they play a lil lip service to the police force during their big speech so... yeah i don't support the existence of the police force, but it is what it is. characters don't reflect author's beliefs and all that
>1st part here<
Jeff happened to be lucky enough to be pardoned for the rest of the night, and he also opted to use some PTO on this very very important occasion, so he sped off in the squad car with his sons in the back immediately after visiting the police department and signing off on some papers. He did not utter a word until they all got back home safely.
In the car, it was eerily silent as Jeff fumed in the front. Miles practiced what he was going to say over and over in his head, picking at his suit and avoiding his twin brother’s eyes. Milo held what remained of his mask in his hands, gauntlets off and tucked between his feet on the floor of the car. They both hung their heads low, counting down the minutes until they got back home and had to face their inevitable death sentence.
They were in so much trouble. Yikes. This was exactly what Miles dreaded for so damn long now, and it almost felt like a dream the way it happened so quickly.
Back home, both boys were sat down in the dining room area behind the couch, waiting for their mother to come back from her night shift. Milo was given an ice pack for his head and some painkillers, and then they were both sternly ordered to take off their respective suits.
Miles turned inquisitive eyes towards his dad.
“If your mom comes in and sees you two wearing those outfits right after work, that woman will have a heart attack and faint. Take ‘em off,” was Jeff’s sharp explanation.
They were not gonna argue with that. To the bedroom they both went.
“And then you both come right back out the second you change, got it?”
“Yeah dad, got it,” was Miles’ unenthused mumble before closing the door.
Miles turned back around with his mask in his hands, and immediately threw it at Milo.
“What were you thinking?!?!” he hissed, arms flying up into the air, making grabbing motions at his twin brother’s neck. “You absolute idiot, my god, we are so. Freaking. Dead!!”
Milo ducked back, scowling. “Me?!” he hissed back, keeping his voice at a harsh whisper as well. “What did you want me to do, pendejo, just let our dad fry, just like that? I didn’t see you moving to stop the guy!”
They were both snapping at each other, hands flying everywhere as they argued in harsh tones and whispers. They only stopped when they heard a loud knock on the door.
“Don’t take all night, either,” came their father’s booming voice from behind the wood.
Miles hung his head. Milo rolled his eyes and moved towards the closet, ripping his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. “Yes dad,” they both intoned at the same time.
A few glares were exchanged as clothes were tossed onto the floor, and Miles sighed loudly as he pulled on a pair of pajama pants, throwing himself onto his bed to get them up his legs all at once. He glanced at his bedside alarm clock, knowing his mom would be home any minute now. He felt his heart beat in his chest much louder and faster than usual.
Milo pulled on a hoodie over his head, gingerly easing the fabric over his bruised chest.
“Did the blast hit your chest too, man?” Miles asked quietly, eyes playing over the mess of a bruise over slightly-scarred skin, wincing a bit.
Milo exhaled sharply. “Shuddup.”
Miles frowned. “You have to let mom know about that soon. Don’t ‘shuddup’ me.”
“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
Miles knew his brother was sulking, but that really looked… bad. If he was responsible for not only dragging his brother into vigilantism, but also putting him in the hospital as well, he had no idea how he was getting out of this one alive. He was probably never going to see the light of day until college. Maybe not even then.
Once ready, both boys stood side-by-side in front of the door, hesitating. They both glanced at each other, then back at the door.
This was it, they both thought. The moment of truth. This was the night where it was all gonna go down, and their painstakingly-kept secret would finally be revealed to their parents. D-day. My god. He didn’t even know if the speech he prepared in the car on the way home was even gonna suffice against their mother’s explosive anger. She was gonna have a cow the second Jeff told her. Damnit.
Guess I can kiss the whole Spider-man thing goodbye, Miles thought, the very idea leaving a very heavy weight in his chest that he just couldn’t ignore. He leaned forward to turn the knob and swing open the door. With one last glance back at his brother, he stepped out. Then his brother followed him slowly, ice pack pressed to the side of his head again.
It was like a funeral procession the way they marched solemnly back to their chairs placed side-by-side by the table. Jeff leaned on the doorway to the hallway with his arms crossed sternly over his chest, still in his police uniform, hat already hung up.
As if on cue, Rio’s keys jangled against the door, and she stepped inside once the lock clicked open. Her slightly tired expression changed in an instant once she hung up her bag and walked into the apartment.
“Hello boys, I’m home!” She announced, a bit surprised. Not only were her husband and two sons all home at the same time, but they were all hanging around to watch her come home after work at such a late hour. Granted, it was summertime and the weekend, but still. Weird.
Jeff had texted her that something important came up and that she needed to be home ASAP, but didn’t elaborate further. She didn’t know what to expect when she got back. She crossed her fingers and hoped that it wasn’t that bad, if her husband texted her instead of calling. If it was an emergency, surely he would’ve called.
Right?
Her eyes widened once she saw the ice pack Milo held against his head, and quickly made her way over to him.
“Qué pasó?” She kneeled next to her boy, checking him over quickly.
Milo winced and tried to dodge his mother’s hands, holding a protective arm over his chest that no one missed. “Ma, stop. I’m fine, seriously. It’s… it’s fine.”
“Is it? What is going on, why is everyone so… so sad right now, and what are you two doing sitting here like this? Jeff…?” She turned to face her husband but he was already making his way back to the boys’ bedroom, scooping up their respective vigilante costumes and heading back out with the incriminating evidence in both hands.
Once he got back to the table, he tossed them onto the surface and crossed his arms again.
For a second, no one moved. The whole world held its breath for one precious moment.
Then, with deadly calm in her tone, Rio slowly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “...What are those things?”
Both boys braced for impact.
“Well?”
Miles swallowed hard, hands gripped together tightly. “Uhm. They’re. They’re… our outfits. Y’know… for fighting crime.”
Rio gaped at her sons.
“He’s Spider-man, mom. Miles is Spider-man,” Milo clarified solemnly. His chin was at his chest now, avoiding eye contact with his mother.
“...And you’re the Prowler.” Rio finished.
She took a step back and exhaled, running her hands through her hair and rubbing her face. “Oh… oh my god. Dios mió, me voy a morir. I knew it, but still... me voy a morir!” ¹
Finally, Jeff spoke up behind her. “They’re not Halloween costumes, either. Guess where I found ‘em tonight?”
With tears in her eyes, Rio looked back at her husband, a pleading look on her face. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. But Jeff continued anyways.
“I took tonight’s shift on as a bit of extra, and when I was called to take care of an electric freak close to downtown, I found these two at the scene already.”
Finally, Rio exploded. “What?!?”
The twins flinched.
Jeff exhaled and pressed on, licking his lips. “Yeah, and not only that, but Milo here took on a direct blast of electricity to the face. He jumped in front of me and put himself in harm’s way!”
Scandalized, Milo leaped up from his seat, wincing only a little bit. “Wait a minute, I did it to protect you! That’s my job!”
The anger fizzled out immediately once both parents swung their withering glares around back to him, rage hot enough to almost burn two holes into his skull. Miles pulled Milo’s hoodie sleeve and quietly hissed, “stop making it worse!”
Milo clammed up and quickly sat back down, pouting.
“Your job?” Rio shot back incredulously, laughing angrily.
“That is not your job, Milo! That is mine! My job! I wear this badge every single day so that I can protect the people of Brooklyn. You are a kid with homework and chores to do, not fighting dangerous bad guys on the streets like some kinda—” Jeff worked himself up but then stopped, as if he suddenly ran out of steam. He placed his hands over his head, clearly stressed, and exhaled loudly.
“How long?” Rio’s tone was sharp.
They were definitely not getting out of this alive. Damn. Rest in power, Morales twins.
Miles shuffled his feet, hesitating. “Uhm—”
“Speak up, Miles. How long have you two been running around behind our backs and lying to us like this? Huh?”
Miles sighed. “I, uhm. We’ve been doing this… for a while now.”
“A while?”
“…A -a year.”
“A YEAR?!”
“I mean I’unno about Miles, but I’ve only been doin’ this for like a couple months, so…” Milo mumbled half-heartedly beside his brother. That comment earned him another set of glares, including one from Miles.
“A year. A year! A year, that’s how long you’ve been lying to us?” Jeff was pacing now, clearly stressed out. He was mumbling things under his breath that both boys would rather not know anything about.
Miles jumped up from his seat, seizing the opportunity when he could. “Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait, guys. Mom, dad. Listen to me, please,” he begged, hands splayed out in front of him.
He took a breath. He opened his mouth.
“Until college.” Rio interrupted, holding a finger up. “Both of you. Grounded! Until college! You will both be adults before you ever go out without my permission ever again!”
Miles deflated. “O-kay but mom, please! Hear me out first!”
Rio held a hand up. “I don’t wanna hear it! I cannot believe that both of my sons would lie to me like this! For an entire year, no less! Dios, dame paciencia, coño!” ² She shook her head as she held her face in her hands. “Do you two know what you’re doing to me? Look at me, I’m getting grey hairs as we speak!”
Jeff immediately took her side. “Do you realize what you’re doing to your mother? You’re killing her! And you--” he rounded on Milo all of a sudden, jolting the poor boy into sitting up straight. “You are killing me! You’re going around wearing those godforsaken gloves around, punching bad guys just cuz you wanna feel like a big man, huh? Do you know what that does to me?!”
Milo visibly prickled up, hunching in on himself. “I’m not doing it for me,” he bit out angrily.
“Then for who, huh?”
“I wanted to save the little guys on the street... when the cops couldn’t. I wanted to help Miles.” Milo sounded tired, and for a split second he looked much older beyond his years. Both of his parents softened for only a fraction of a second before Jeff rubbed his eyes and turned back to Miles.
"And who made you Spider-man all of a sudden? What happened a year ago? Tell me the truth. I don't want any detail left out!"
Ah, interrogation mode already, Miles thought humorlessly.
He sighed and dutifully got started on the whole backstory, careful to leave out the fact that he was with Aaron the moment he got shot, skipping to the part where he "found" his uncle's nearly lifeless body in that alleyway that fateful day. It was a harmless enough lie… Miles presumed. Right?
"Did you… then... h-how did you see who shot Aaron, Miles? Were you there?" Jeff asked quietly, also looking as tired as Milo did. Miles paused, not expecting the question.
Rio shot him a look. "Jeff, mi amor, please. Now is really not the time." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, we have to talk about this... this... situation we have going on here. What's next?"
Miles shrugged, palms facing forward as if to say and the rest is history. "I'm... pretty sure you guys know the rest. Dad... you were uh, there. At the collider. I stopped Kingpin and then I just. Well, yeah. Y'all have already watched all of the news stories and the videos. So," he finished lamely.
Then, a surge of confidence as he looked at the concerned expressions dawning on his parents' faces. It's now or never.
"...B-but I love being Spider-man! Dad, you've seen me out there, the way I fight, the fact that you guys have less to deal with cuz I'm out there kicking ass!"
Oops. Wrong words.
Miles' confidence deflated as soon as those concerned and sympathetic looks turned into ones of anger.
"Kicking ass?! More like getting your ass kicked, little boy! How many NewTube videos are out there of you getting crushed by cars," Jeff started to count off of his fingers, "hit by buses, tossed in the air, punched and flung halfway across the block--"
"Jeff, please!" Rio cried, wobbling a bit. She pulled out the chair closest to her from the table and slumped down into it, rubbing at her temples.
"S-sorry, hon..." Jeff placed an apologetic hand on his wife's shoulder.
Rio sighed deeply.
"I get it. I know. But dad..." Miles steeled himself this time. "When you put on that badge every single day and you go out into those streets to protect the city, you think you're never gonna get shot at? Jumped? It is literally your responsibility to put yourself in the way of danger so no one else has to." He turns to the table and grabs his mask.
"For me," Miles continues, "this is my badge. Okay? I put this on every single day and swing out into the streets so people can shoot at me, or ask me for directions, or wait for me to get weird guys in stupid costumes away from the train tracks. I do this every single day, because if I don't, who will? Peter is dead--" ...wow, that feels weird to say.
"Miles..." Rio's big brown eyes gaze sadly at her boy, standing tall with this awful mask in his hand. A mask that she desperately wished wasn't his.
"Mom. Peter is dead. He is. Okay? If I don't step up and take his place, knowing what I can do? Then I might as well not even be alive at all." He tosses his mask dramatically back onto the table to punctuate his point. "I can shoot webs from my wrists and I have strength like y'all wouldn't believe. I can stick to walls and do everything that Peter Parker was able to do before he passed away. If I just sit here doing nothing with these abilities while everyone struggles to live their lives every single day, letting bad guys with superpowers do whatever they want, then what's the point of anything? The exact same reason why I put on this suit to go fight crime is the exact same reason why you do, dad." Miles turns to his father now. "You have your suit, I have mine."
Milo jumps in, enthused. "And the reason why I put on my mask is because of him. And the civilians, too... of course. But it's not because I 'wanna feel like a big man', dad. It's because it drives me crazy seeing my own brother taking on all of this responsibility on his shoulders all by himself. Miles is gonna do crazy things now that he got bit by a super-spider, right? We literally cannot stop him, even if we tried. Trust me. Might as well go along with him and support him so he doesn't get himself killed out there. That's why I do this. Every single day."
Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but is then cut off by Rio's own small, sad voice. "... Why does it have to be you two?" She asks quietly.
She looks so small sitting there on their wooden dining room chair, and a million times more tired than when she came in through the door. She wasn't even out of her own nurse's uniform yet, either. Miles felt a pang of sympathy for her.
Miles... did not know the answer to her question either. He really didn't. Why was it him-- out of all of the people in Brooklyn-- that got bit by that spider? Clearly, the universe had a grand, elaborate joke planned for him. That was really probably the only explanation for it all. But, no. No, there had to be something else in the cards for Miles. After all, he was bitten by the spider while out with his uncle who was secretly the Prowler, and he was present for not only Peter Parker's death, but that same uncle as well.
He squared his shoulders. And then told the truth.
"I... don't know," he admitted. "But... I do know this. Growing up, I always knew Spider-man was there to answer the call no matter what. He didn't pick this life of battling bad guys that wanna tear the city up all the time, a spider bit him, too. But he made me promise something before he died, and I have to live up to that promise. What else am I gonna do when I'm able to pick up cars with my bare hands?"
Granted, it was only a promise to stop the collider from opening a black hole inside of the city they lived in, but. Details. Anyways...
Rio hid her face in her hands again.
Miles softened his tone, sitting down. "This is something I worked really, really hard for and it's important to me. Milo... is kinda right. You can ground me. Until college. Or whenever. But as long as I've got these powers," he held his hands open, propping his elbows on his knees and meeting his mom's eyes, "and there's people out there that need saving? I gotta do what I gotta do, mami."
Milo leaned forward, too. "Yeah. Same here. He's not alone. The same reason we do this stuff is cuz... ever since we were little, we also watched you guys answer the call, no matter what. I never met Spider-man, before... y'know, but it doesn't matter. We do this for New York City."
Neither of their parents spoke for a bit, digesting all of this information in solemn silence. The anger from earlier all but melted away as they ruminated over all of this. All this time, their little boy was running around in a spandex costume, swinging around, punching bad guys and lifting fallen buildings off of people. There was... a hint of pride underneath all of the fear and anger and betrayal and anxiety, even Rio couldn't lie.
But god, how would things ever be the same again after knowing that the very hero who swung from building to building and knocked villains down before webbing them up was the very same boy with the brightest brown eyes they've ever seen; the boy who brought home A's on his test like he won a medal, the same boy who sang horribly off-key while doodling all over his sketchbook, who refused to tie his shoelaces and drove Jeff up the wall when he found graffiti and stickers all around the city in Miles' name? It was impossible... Rio's heart broke into two pieces.
And Milo... a tougher counterpart to her little ray of sunshine, but just as sweet. The same boy who would feed stray cats on the block, beam like a ray of light after winning a boxing match against a tough opponent, who would hide behind Rio at parties and join her happily to watch the latest episode of the new telenovela they both got hooked on... that same boy was wearing those gloves, swinging around the city looking like a bad guy himself. Rio's shattered heart gained another huge crack before finally breaking into three pieces.
Finally, she sighed again.
"You have superpowers?" She asked, hesitantly.
"... I... yeah, I do." Miles answered, fearing that this was a trick question.
Rio nodded sadly. "Of course. Of course..."
Jeff spoke up, now kneeling beside his wife, caressing her hand clasped in between both of his. "Just because you have superpowers, doesn't mean you're invincible. Miles, we do this because we care about you. Maybe we won't be able to stop either of you from putting yourself in harm's way... I mean, hell, nobody can stop me. But... god, isn't there any other way?"
Miles raised a brow. "Any other way to...?"
Jeff blew out a breath. "I-I dunno, can't you use your super strength to... well, maybe help the transportation department move some tracks around, build some new stations... that'd help the city. Swing around and deliver medicine to people for free? God, I don't know. I just don't want either of you to jump in front of bullets for other people... man..." he shook his head.
Miles and Milo exchanged glances. "I... I know it's tough to accept this," Miles started, unsure of what to say. "Maybe I can scale back the dangerous stuff some but... I... can't just stand around directing traffic when someone's getting mugged. Or a bank is getting robbed. Dad, I just can't. Maybe you guys will hate it every time I put the suit on and swing outside but... I can't give this up now. I'm sorry." He dipped his head apologetically.
Another long stretch of silence.
A clock ticks on the wall in the kitchen, and the ice maker in the fridge starts humming again. It's all so painfully domestic, painfully ordinary, it's almost an insult to the people living in this apartment facing these serious revelations all at the same time. It sure is a sharp contrast to the solemn mood settling all over everyone right now.
Rio looks deeply into Miles' eyes, then Milo's. After a while, she turns to face Jeff. "Jeff. You will not like what I'm about to say."
Jeff returns her look with one of confusion. "Honey..."
Rio shrugs, a small gesture but one that makes Miles and Milo's hearts skip a beat. "Mi vida, these are our boys. They have... this big responsibility now, to the people here in this city. Just like you. Just like me," she swallows and continues. "You and me? We've seen what Miles is capable of. Well, the both of them. And as much as it hurts, it would probably hurt even more if we kept them both back from being the heroes they need to be. What we need to do now is... we need to support them. We love them. They need us. We need them! Qué más puedo decir?" ³
Jeff looked deeply into his wife's eyes and then inhaled deeply. Not quite a sigh. That was maybe a good sign?
He stands up.
"...Boys."
The twins took their cue. They both stood up, too. Milo quickly discards his ice pack on his chair. Rio joins them, leaning on Jeff for support.
"When police officers get sworn in, they usually just have to do paperwork nowadays. Not too much of the whole bells and whistles due to high turnover rates, but tonight... if either of you want to continue to fight crime in this city, you both have to put your right hand up. Right now."
Miles could cry. Milo bit his lip to try and hide his grin, and they both dutifully raised their right hands at the same time. Jeff does the same, and reaches his left hand out to take Miles'. Rio takes Milo's.
"Pretend we are the Bible. Not paperwork. The Bible."
Both boys nod with all the seriousness they could manage, looking their father in the eyes.
"Do you solemnly swear on your mother and father's life that you will uphold the law and do right by the citizens of Brooklyn, New York, so help you God?"
"I mean... the law law? Cuz sometimes we--" Milo started, immediately earning an elbow to the side. He shut up.
"Yes, the law. I will not be having the DA of New York City up in my home lookin' for you two in case anyone gets badly hurt. I don't want him in my office, either." Jeff gives them both a look.
Miles pipes up. "Yes, we swear, so help us God."
"Milo?"
Milo nods emphatically. "Yes, I swear, so help me God."
Jeff nods once.
"Mijos. You will both be allowed to go and fight crime outside, con mi bendiciones. But. But... you will both also do it under two conditions. If either of you break my rules, you will have wished that spider never bit you," Rio glared at Miles. Then to Milo, "and you will have wished you never stole your uncle's gloves from his apartment. Got it?"
Both boys nodded, still holding onto their parents' hands.
"So, my two rules are this. Only two. Easy to remember, okay? Number one. Milo, you will take care of your brother as best as you can. Miles, you will take care of Milo as best as you can. Both of you will always be seen together when going out and doing hero things, do you understand?"
"Yes, mamí" the boys say simultaneously.
"Never, ever go out alone, ever. Neither of you will be alone for even a second, especially during the nighttime. Promise me this."
Miles puts his right hand down to take his mother's other hand in his. "Yes, mom. I promise. We both promise."
Rio bows her head. "...And as for my second rule."
"Do we have to have a curfew?" Milo asks quietly. Everyone shoots him a look again.
"No, no curfew." Before the boys could get excited, she quickly adds, "except for on school nights." They both calm back down.
"Your education is always, always more important. Don't forget this," she lets go of their hands to hold up a finger. "But as for my second rule? No more secrets between us. All of us. Okay? You tell me exactly when it is you leave to go and do what you need to do, and exactly when you come back. Promise me this, too."
This time, it was Miles' turn to start saying something dumb. "I meaann, like every single time? Cuz sometimes it's not really a one-and-done kinda thing, like a shift or--"
Everyone glares at Miles. Miles promptly shuts up.
"...Sí, mamí. Te prometemos todo eso." ⁴ Milo answers seriously.
Rio sucks in a breath. "Okay. Okay..."
She looks as if she's about to burst into tears, so everyone draws in tightly for a group hug. Rio sniffles against Milo's shoulder and Jeff leans his chin on Mile's head. Miles laughs wetly.
"Geez, y'all are crying? Man, for what? Ain't nobody dying or anything..." Milo interjects suddenly, causing the whole mood to dissipate all at once. Everyone laughs incredulously.
"Boy, if you don't know how to read a room..." Jeff starts, a warning tone laced into his playful grin.
"Man, I was just trying to lighten the mood! Damn, I mean shouldn't we be celebrating? Miles literally has super strength, you guys. Like c'mon, right? That is literally the coolest thing in the whole world!"
Rio groans, tossing her head back. "Mira esté, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... déjame agarrarte, maldito cabron..." ⁵ she mutters sarcastically, moving to grab at Milo's neck in the exact same way Miles did not even an hour earlier. He playfully dodged out of the way, putting his arms up to block, out of habit.
"Cabron?! Mom, you're so mean!" Milo complained.
"C'mere!"
Jeff leans in and interrupts their banter. "Milo. Son. You have to sit with me on the couch now, cuz we have to have a little chat about how you got your hands on those gloves, actually..." He grabs at one of Milo's arms, his smile just a tad bit too wide. Milo gulps.
Jeff continues, steering them both away from Miles and Rio. "And we also have to talk a bit about the history behind those things, too..."
Rio turns to Miles and cups his cheeks in her hands, looking into his eyes. "Do you actually, actually swear to me that you will try your hardest to stay safe?"
"Yes, mom, I do! We said it like a hundred times."
"Your father was right. Just because you have super strength now--"
"And super-healing."
Rio stares at him for a beat.
Miles squirms nervously. "...What? I do!"
"Super-healing, sure. Uh huh. If I catch you with bullet holes inside of you, I am not taking you to the ER then, Mr. Invincible."
"Ouch. Harsh."
"I warned you! I'm smiling like I'm joking but I'm really not!"
"Okay, okay, geez. C'mon, ma. It's really not that big of a deal. I don't get shot at as much as you'd think! Seriously! I'm fast. And... and I've been doing this for a while now. You have to trust me, okay?"
Rio sobered up. "I know. I know. I just... mi amor, I am your mother. I worry about you. You know... I've been taking care of my two little boys for so many years now. I just... I care about the both of you even when you two drive me completamente loca! I trust that you can both handle yourselves, I really do. It's just hard. It is. I-it'll... take some time to get used to."
Miles nodded. "Growing up is tough. I get it."
Rio smacked him on the shoulder.
"Ow! What, it's true! We're all growing up right now, I'm not a little kid anymore and... and you're not the mom of two little kids now. It's just... it's a transitional period! Life's tough!" Miles shrugs, smiling warmly.
Rio smirked, crossing her arms. "Uh huh. It sure is."
Then, she opened her arms for another hug from Miles, which he happily returned.
"I mean it, Miles. Whatever happens, I want you to keep yourselves safe. And ask for help. Papí, your father is a police officer. And whatever you need, whatever you need... I'm here, too."
Miles beamed at his mother with tears in his eyes.
"I know, mom. Thank you."
☆ translations:
¹ "my god, i'm going to die."
² "god, grant me patience, fuck!"
³ "what more can i say?"
⁴ "yes, mom. we promise you all of that."
⁵ "Lookit this guy, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... lemme get my hands on you, fucking bastard..."
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Karlach doesn't respond immediately when Hector calls her name. She's standing stock-still, staring out at the water, except for her shoulders which twitch as if with tears, or with some monstrous effort.
"We did it, soldier," she says softly. "The city's going to be all right." Her voice shakes, cracks painfully. "And so are you."
She turns towards him, meets his eyes steadily, her gaze full of equal parts love and pain. And he realizes what is happening only a millisecond before the flame bursts up around her.
She collapses to her knees with a cry of agony. The engine in her chest is making a terrible grinding whine, and winding tendrils of flame shoot around her body.
He remembers the night in camp so many months ago when the flames almost consumed her, how he struggled to calm her, how he felt the first moment of realization that he could lose her. But that was when they still had hope the engine could be fixed. There is no such hope now, only brutal implacable certainty. There are no words he can give her that will calm the inferno.
How much effort was it taking her, all day, just to ensure that she could hold on until the fight was done and they could say goodbye?
Gods, he thinks, and it is a prayer to which he expects no answer. No, no, no... no... please... I thought we might still have more time... The heavy weight of future grief that has sat with him for so many months becomes a lead ball in his chest.
Unthinking, he barrels towards her, falls on his knees in front of her. The heat is tremendous; sweat pours down his face, into his eyes, blinding him, mixing with the tears.
She forces her eyes open to meet his. "Engine's finally cooked," she whispers. "Held on just long enough."
She tries to smile-- in spite of everything she tries to smile, and gods, he loves her, he loves her so much and he feels like something clawed and monstrous is ripping at his heart. "So...?" she gets out shakily. "H- how'd I do?"
He feels choked with grief and love. He ignores the heat and the way it starts to blister his palms at once, and reaches out to cup her face in both hands, unwilling to spare even a moment's remaining touch. He is crying freely now, no sign of any of his control remaining. Before her he has no secrets left. "You were spectacular," he says, his voice thick. "In every way..."
She manages a strange, shaky laugh that catches and sticks in her throat. "For you..." she groans. She presses her hand against his cheek; he feels the heat sink into him and hisses a breath out between his teeth but doesn't pull away. "And for the city, and for myself, and blah, blah..." she says, and laughs again, just a tinge of hysteria in the sound. "But most of all, for you..."
For you... He clings unashamedly to her, struggling for any words that might articulate what he's feeling. It was always for you too... everything I learned, everything I became, every bit of bravery and hope and struggle, it was all for you, always, for how you made me see this city and this world and myself... gods, please, don't leave me...
Don't leave me alone...
There's another burst of heat around her; the shockwave intensity of it sends him back onto his heels. Her hand drops from his cheek and he feels the pain of the burn her palm left in his skin. "Careful," she chokes out. "Hot..."
She hunches over, her breath coming faster now, the animal panic struggling to overcome her remaining composure. "How'd I do?" she whispers, more to herself than to him. "Spectacular..." Another hoarse laugh. "It's the one thing I can't beat, isn't it. Same below as above..."
The surge eases; she tips her head towards his again, her eyes drifting closed. "I love... you..." she mutters fiercely.
Her eyes open again, fix on his; he sees the flame in her eyes and along her body start to take on the blue hue that rises when the emotion between them is particularly intense. "You. More than anything. I saw-- GODS!"
She screams, spasms with the rush of pain, and the agony on her face feels like a knife in his own chest.
She tries to lift her head again, and it takes more visible effort this time. The tears and sweat on her face rise in a burst of steam. "Goodbye, sun..." she whispers. "Goodbye, sea. Goodbye..."
He feels empty. Hollow. Unreal, as if he's watching the moment from a distance. He can't bear it; he wants to scream, to rage, to tear apart reality if it will keep her with him a little longer. But he can't move. He can only watch as the flame begins to consume her.
An unexpected voice breaks the moment from behind him.
"No. Stop. I won't allow this."
Wyll has moved up to Hector's side. His eyes are full of pain and sudden urgency. "Karlach," he says emphatically. "You're coming with me - back to Avernus." He turns his head, meeting Hector's eyes; Hector can barely see him through the haze of grief and tears. "We can't let her die," the Blade insists. "Not like this. Not now."
Hope stabs through him suddenly - hope, indomitable in spite of everything that stands against it. Hope he learned from her.
Karlach has always insisted that she cannot go back to the Hells, that it would be worse than death, and it has been so important to him that he honor that, so important that he hasn't even considered other options, not really. He would have been ready to go back to Avernus with her, if that was what she chose... he decided that before they even left the Shadowlands.
But it was never on the table, because she was convinced that Zariel would be on her in an instant, that she would be taken back into slavery in the devil's army, and she would rather die.
But the last time they talked about it was months ago. Surely... with how far he's come, and with Wyll going to the hells as well... surely between them they could see to it that Karlach remains free and lives...
And Wyll would not be alone in his new life as a hunter of devils, he would have friends at his side...
And perhaps one day Zariel would fall to their combined might, and Avernus be truly free of her cruelty...
Surely...
Surely death can't be better than that hope?
Karlach struggles to inhale a hoarse, sobbing breath. "You can't. You..."
He reaches out through the flame again, takes her hand, holds it tightly. "Enough, Karlach," he says softly. "The three of us will make a new life in Avernus... together..."
"So what do you say?" Wyll asks. "Die here, now, or live on with people who love you?" He crouches at Hector's side, reaches out a hand to her. "Zariel won't touch you. I swear it, Karlach."
Come with me, please... please... Hector thinks desperately. I will follow you into damnation if only you will lead me there. I will carry Selune's light into that burning place and be at peace. Just please... come with me...
If she denies it again, he will not fight it. He will stand here and watch while she lets the flames consume her. He will honor whatever she decides in this moment, however much it might kill him to do so.
But she doesn't fight it. Her eyes open-- and he sees his own hope reflected in her gaze. Maybe it is that she sees, as he does, that there are new possibilities now, with how powerful they have all grown and with the city once again safe behind them, or perhaps in this moment of truth she has simply realized that she is not ready to die.
But whatever it is... she agrees.
"All right. All right..." she gasps out hoarsely. "But we have to go. NOW. I can't hold on much longer."
If the grief and pain were tremendous, the relief that shoots through him now is so staggering that he feels dizzy. His heart clenches painfully and the tears do not stop, and he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his, pulling her to her feet.
"Thank the gods you've seen sense," Wyll says excitedly. Hector suspects he's almost as relieved to have friends coming at his side to Avernus as he is to see that Karlach will live - although Wyll is even more selfless than Hector himself, and Karlach's fate is the only thing top of mind for him at present. "Come! To Avernus we go. Our next adventure awaits."
Their goodbyes to the others are fumbled and hasty. They will find some other way to do it properly when Karlach is safe. There's only one thing on Hector's mind now - the portal in the Devil's Fee, the gold it will take to get Helsik to open a path... and the hope of calm on the other side.
He is no fool - what they are deciding to do in this moment is to abandon the hope of rest and celebration and go to a new war, almost at once. But he does not care. It is more than he ever dared to hope for.
He kisses her fiercely, ignoring the heat burning through her, and they all break into a run.
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