#(also the imagery of Bowser turning around to find Kamek passed out on the floor behind him was too funny to not write out lmao)

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

no rest for the wicked

Rating: General Audiences Characters: Bowser, Kamek, Bowser Jr, Kammy Relationships: Bowser & Kamek, Bowser & Bowser Jr Tags: Angst, Family, Exhaustion

Summary: Bowser is very much used to Kamek grumbling under his breath about the amount of work he has to do, work that Bowser gives him more often than not. But Kamek always pulls through with good results, so Bowser never pays said complaining any mind. Maybe he should have been doing so, instead of taking Kamek’s efforts for granted. Word Count: 2,784 words

[AO3 Link]

~~~

Kamek cut himself off with a weary sigh. “You’re not listening to me, are you.”

Walking next to him, Bowser smirked. “Nah, I got the gist!” He gestured to their surroundings, to the minions bustling to and fro carrying crates and supplies, setting up fire bars, pushing around statues. “Everything's on schedule, the plan’ll go off perfectly, Mario’s days are numbered, blah, blah, blah, right?”

“...you really should pay attention to what I say, sometimes.”

“Eh, but you’ve totally got everything under control.” Bowser waved a hand dismissively. “You’re my #1 minion, after all!”

Kamek stared at him — or through him, it almost seemed. “...right.”

“Hey, but speaking of,” Bowser said, leaning in close. “How’s that secret weapon comin’ along?”

“It’s progressing well,” Kamek replied after a moment. He shook his head as if to clear it, then continued. “Despite the...unreasonably rushed timetable, with any luck I’ll be able to have it ready well on time.”

Bowser pumped a fist in excitement. “See, I told you it’d be easy!” And Kamek had grumbled and complained under his breath so much when Bowser had put him in charge of developing it. Well, he’d put him in charge of finding the weapon at first, but apparently that had been completely impossible, no matter how he tried to order Kamek to do so, while creating it from scratch had been deemed near-impossible, instead. Hence the grousing about the difficulty or the tediousness or whatever — Bowser hadn't listened to any of it, because Kamek always had something negative to say about being assigned larger projects that were allegedly impossible, as if he didn't rise to the occasion every time to produce solid results. So surely the complaining was just some old man-ism or something.

“Yes, yes.” Kamek sounded distracted, his jaw flexing oddly.

But Bowser paid no mind to the lackluster response, busy picturing in his mind’s eye all the ways he could use his new weapon to crush Mario when it was finished. “And that chump won't even see it coming!” he crowed.

Behind him, Kamek mumbled something. It took a moment for Bowser to parse it as, “Don't count your chickens before they hatch, sire,” and Bowser scoffed, though he couldn't help the grin on his face about how on cue Kamek was, with a comment like that.

“Oh, come on, you know there’s no way I can lose, this time!” Bowser laughed, long and loud. “I’m the King, after all! And you’re the one making my secret weapon!”

“...”

Bowser frowned, slowing to a stop. This was supposed to be the part where Kamek chastised him for having a too big of a head. But the absence of such echoed throughout the room, as if the rest of the world had slowed to a stop, too. He turned around, and whatever was on the tip of his tongue in response to the silence died instantlyy, faced with Kamek lying on the floor in a heap.

Bowser’s first impulse was to make fun of Kamek for presumably tripping and falling on his own robes. But if that had been actually what had happened, then Kamek would have started in on the muttered cursing by now. He wasn't even moving. Was...he even...?

“H-hey...” Bowser crept closer to Kamek. Something moved in Bowser’s periphery, and Bowser found himself catching the gazes of a group of minions, staring back at him with a wide-eyed expression Bowser hoped wasn't a reflection of his own. “Are you people going to just stand there?!” he heard himself shout, and all at once half of everyone nearby sprang into action. The other half sprang into a panic, which was something Bowser should have probably been focused on abating but Kamek wasn't moving, and —

Amidst all the chaos of the moment, Bowser’s name was called. Bowser almost didn't hear it at first, but when the soldier that had called for him cut in front of his view of Kamek, Bowser’s attention snapped to him. Bowser screwed his face up to shout for him to get out of his way, but the soldier, determined to do the job his superior assigned to him no matter how much anger it brought, managed a, “King Boo has just arrived and is waiting for you, sir,” and fuck.

If it were literally anyone else, Bowser would blow off the upcoming meeting in a heartbeat in favor of watching over Kamek. But leaving King Boo hanging had consequences, and those consequences were annoying. Like “traumatizing everyone in the castle and straining their mental health resources and possibly putting his son at risk” annoying.

But the opportunity to damn the consequences and skip meeting King Boo anyway was snatched from him, by a lieutenant approaching him. Despite the clear apprehension in doing so, she informed Bowser that while he had been busy mulling over said opportunity, Kamek was halfway out the door to the medical wing. Bowser snapped his head up and around, but only caught the blue of Kamek’s hat on the white of the cloth stretcher as it turned the corner out of sight. Thus, at this point Bowser would more get in the way than anything, and the medical staff were just about some of the only people Bowser couldn't strong-arm into letting him do what he wanted, no matter all the power he’d try to pull for it. So he’ll forced to do nothing but wait. Without knowing what had happened to Kamek. And King Boo was still waiting regardless. Bowser ground his teeth.

“W-we’ll be sure to deliver updates as soon as we get any, sir,” the lieutenant said, an understanding in her gaze.

“...those updates better be quick.”

The lieutenant saluted crisply. “Sir, yes, sir.”

---

It was extremely rare, but Bowser really hated being King, sometimes.

And no time as much as this, rushing through a meeting with King Boo and probably acquiescing to too much during their negotiations in the process, and then stepping out after it and near-immediately getting pulled into seemingly a thousand other little yet important things that would be usually left to Kamek to take care of, but...yeah.

But finally, finally, he got word that Kamek had woken up, and that was enough to ditch whatever he’d been in the middle of to speed to the medical wing to see him. And when he turned the last corner —

“What the hell are you doing?”

On the other end of the hall, Kamek was leaning heavily against the wall. He raised his head. Even through the thick lenses of his glasses, Bowser could tell he wasn't all there. “...Going back to my office,” Kamek eventually replied, gaze fixed on a point in the middle distance just past Bowser’s elbow.

Bowser quirked a brow, striding up to him. “I don't think you’re gonna make it,” he said. “You look dead on your feet, old man.” This close, Bowser could see the dark, dark bags under Kamek’s eyes peeking out from beneath his glasses.

Kamek pushed himself off the wall, squaring his shoulders despite swaying as if the next stiff breeze would knock him over. “I’ve worked through worse.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “A strong coffee or two should do the trick.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Eh —? You’re working?”

“...Yes?” Kamek’s brows furrowed. “Your plans still need finishing, my Lord. Your secret weapon should still be ready in time.”

“I —” Bowser gaped at him. “You can't work!”

“Why not?”

“You literally passed out earlier!”

“...Minor inconvenience.” Kamek slumped back against the wall. “Won’t be too much of a delay.”

“...But you passed out!”

Through the haze of exhaustion, the irritation Bowser was used to began to peek through. “You’ve...already said that.”

They both stared at each other. Kamek pushed himself upright, almost falling over in the other direction before catching himself at the last minute. “If there’s nothing else,” he said, beginning to shuffle down the hall, “Then I’m leaving. I’ve” — he stifles a yawn — “I’ve got work to do.”

“Wait, hold on —” As Kamek passed him, Bowser reached out and grabbed him around the middle. “You can't work like this!”

“I have to!” Kamek tried to tug himself out of Bowser’s grip. He failed. “That’s the whole point of the plan!”

“Well, then...I’ll...I’ll come up with a different plan!”

“You?”

The retort was unusually cutting, and it took Bowser aback. “Well —! Whatever!” He sputtered, a wave of indignation flaring in his chest. “I’ll figure it out! But you're not working yourself to death on my watch!

“Don't be ridiculous.” Having given up on pulling himself out of Bowser’s hand, Kamek resorted to weakly banging on Bowser’s wrist, instead. “You’ve been going on about this for ages, and now you want to give it up? This is far too important to —”

“Screw important!” Bowser shook Kamek. “You were just laying there! I thought you —! You —!”

Kamek went quiet. “...sire, please,” he whispered, and Bowser abruptly realized that in his outburst his grip on Kamek had gotten a little too tight.

Bowser dropped Kamek as if burned. Kamek fell to the ground, gasping for air; he straightened his robe sleeve, fingers lingering on his arm as if to grasp it. He looked very small, uncomfortably so. Bowser felt very big, uncomfortably so.

The heavy silence broke when Bowser Junior poked his head out from the entrance of the medical wing. He frowned at Kamek. “You weren't supposed to leave, yet,” he accused.

Kamek glanced between him and Bowser. Bowser crossed his arms, wordlessly daring Kamek to try his stupid reasonings on Junior, too. Kamek sighed, defeated. “...Right. Apologies.”

Junior ran over to help Kamek stand. As he led Kamek back to the medical wing, Bowser trailing behind, a nurse ran out in a tizzy. “Oh, Lord Kamek!” they exclaimed upon seeing him, slumping minutely in relief. “A-and greetings, King Bowser, Lord Junior,” they continued, tensing right back up again under their reproachful stares. “Um.” They addressed Bowser, quaking in their shoes. “L-Lord Kamek is fine, he just needs rest. And he can go back to his rooms for that.”

“Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality, huh?” Kamek scowled. The nurse flinched.

Despite his ire, Kamek was drooping where he stood, even braced against Junior. Junior could probably take all of Kamek’s body weight, Bowser thought, but nonetheless he found himself reflexively steadying him with a hand. Kamek stiffened, but slumped against his touch. Bowser let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

“Well, at least you don't have to stay in there,” Bowser muttered. Staying in medical sucked.

Kamek didn't respond; he’d gone still. Bowser reached down to poke him, and he heard light snoring. You’ve gotta be kidding; while still standing? Bowser didn't even know Kamek could do that!

Well, they were hardly going to get Kamek back to his quarters like this, so Bowser near-unceremoniously scooped him up to carry. Junior clambered onto Bowser’s shoulders, and off they went.

---

Junior pushed the door to Kamek’s bedroom open as quietly as he was able. Bowser came in after him, carefully placing Kamek onto his bed. Junior, face screwed in concentration, carefully removed Kamek’s glasses and put them on the side table. As he covered him in blankets, Bowser watched Kamek breathe in and out in sleep, a faint frown on both their faces. He swirled around in spiraling thoughts until the sound of the door opening and closing again snapped him back to himself. Junior had left the room, and, curious, Bowser followed him, being led all the way to Kamek’s lab, where Junior was looking around the room with a purpose about him.

“What’re ya doin’, bud?”

Junior hummed. “I need” — he opened half the drawers of Kamek’s desk — “this!”

Junior held up a notebook, full of sticky notes lining the sides. The cover was old and worn, but the writing on it was clearly Kamek’s.

“I really don't think Kamek should be working right now...”

Junior levelled him with a blank stare. “He’s just gonna come get it, anyway.”

Hm. Well. The old man was evidently more stubborn than Bowser realized, so he supposed Junior had a point. He wasn't about to tell him that, though.

Regardless, Junior wasn't done with his search, turning his attention to the nearby bookshelves. He stared thoughtfully up at them, and Bowser was suddenly struck with a vision of the bookshelves toppling over because his son decided to try climbing them.

“You need some of those?” Bowser hurried to ask.

Junior nodded, pointing at one of the books. “The yellow one about tran...transmog-er-ation. Please,” he added, very belatedly.

Bowser spotted it easily, just barely within reach. “Trans-morgan-ratio, huh?” he repeated amusedly. “I didn't know you were into this stuff.”

“‘M not,” Junior said. He paused. “Pops’s been reading that one to me so I fall asleep,” he quietly admitted.

Bowser frowned. When was Kamek doing that? Bowser’s been the one putting Junior to bed recently, and Junior’s long since self-proclaimed himself too old for bedtime stories...? The answer hit Bowser all at once, and his face fell further.

“You know you can wake me,” Bowser said, because while he knew Junior’s been having nightmares by the way he’d been waking up with the kid curled in his arms in the morning recently, he hadn’t realized that Junior had been waking up even earlier than when he’d feel him crawling into his bed.

“I know, but Pops is already awake, anyway.”

“Already awake?”

“Mhm. In here, working!” Junior grinned. “He must really want everything to be perfect.”

Bowser looked around the room, at the discarded throw blanket on the couch, the empty coffee mugs crowding the desk, the loose paper scattered on the surrounding floor. Something sour curled in Bowser’s gut. “Yeah...”

As Bowser followed Junior out of Kamek’s lab, an errant thought occurred to him. “D’you think the old man’s eaten?” he asked the hallway.

Junior shrugged. “I haven’t seen him eating.”

Of course not. Bowser bit back a sigh. “How about this.” Bowser gets on a knee to address Junior on his level. “I can take Kamek his stuff”— he held out a hand for the notebook Junior was still holding — “and you can go to the chefs and tell them to whip up something special for when he wakes up. For him, not for you,” he added at Junior’s dawning delight at being able to freely choose dinner.

“Daaaad,” Junior whined.

The speed at which Bowser cracked was honestly kind of impressive. “Alright,” he said, mock-resigned with a smile wobbling on his face. “Maybe something special for you, too.”

“Yes!” Junior pumped a fist in excitement. He passed Bowser Kamek’s notebook. “You’d better be careful with this,” he warned.

“I will, I will.” Bowser chuckled, tucking the notebook alongside the book under his arm.

With that, Junior went to perform his task. Bowser turned the other way to walk back to Kamek’s rooms. Along the way, he ran into Kammy, who took one look at his face and what he was carrying and huffed. “So it finally happened, didn't it? Ugh, Kamek’s such an idiot.”

“Hey,” Bowser protested, though he wasn't sure at first what exactly he was protesting.

Kammy rolled her eyes. “It was only a matter of time. He’s a damn people pleaser with no sense of setting boundaries.” She clicked her tongue. “At least I don't have to mind him, this time.”

Bowser stood at a loss for words. In the meantime, Kammy wiped the irritation from her face, replacing it with a slynness. “Never mind that, though. Since Kamek’s out of commission, I can take over his project if you still need it done,” she said sweetly, practically fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“...I’m going to run that by the old man first,” Bowser decided. “Tell therest of the troops to put the other preparations on pause for now.”

Kammy looked disappointed, but she nodded, said, “Yes, King Bowser,” and parted from him.

Bowser returned to Kamek’s bedroom, where Kamek was still fast asleep. He put the books down on the nearby desk and frowned down at him. This time, Kammy had said. I've worked through worse, Kamek had said. All under Bowser’s nose, apparently. For a secret weapon for a half-cocked plan.

...a half-cocked plan whose appeal was very quickly wearing thin.

Bowser re-gathered the books in his arm. He took one last look at Kamek, reaching out as if to put a hand on his shoulder. Kamek looked tiny under the shadow of it. Bowser hesitated. He pulled his hand back. He turned away, leaving as quietly as he could.

He’ll come up with a different plan.