#tiny and cute...with their occasional bouts of mischief~!

[justiisms]

("Oh, no wonder he hasn't turned the page lately. Looks like he finally passed out.") *shinigami's voice is surprisingly soft as she floats right beside yuma, the boy having been reading on yuta's bed right up until he fell asleep! his hand is even resting on the page he's on, it keeping his spot while she tilts her head this way and that*

("You know, I've never seen either of you asleep before. Since you both have a pact with me, I fall asleep with whoever is the last one awake. Now I can confirm that, whether you're awake or asleep, my two masters are like chihuahuas: tiny, cute, and always getting into trouble! The two of you even shake when you're scared, making you even more adorable, kyahaha~!")

("Oh! You're right...") Yuta had been playing some Dragon Quest while his brother reading. It's when Shinigami points out that Yuma fell asleep on his bed, that he pauses the game and leans up to look. Seeing that he even had his hand on the page he fell asleep on, he couldn't help but chuckle, now sitting on the edge of the bed as he gently strokes his twin's hair~

("Ahh, that's true... you're usually already asleep with one of us by then. H-Heh, that so, huh? Well, that makes you a Chihuahua as well when you put it like that, Shinigami! You're the biggest troublemaker out of all of us. O-Oh, shush.") A playful roll of the eyes, he 'swats' at her~ ("Don't find that adorable! ...Though, you aren't wrong: he really does look like a little puppy, here. In a more innocent sense; then again, I guess as the big brother, I'll naturally find my little brother more adorable. Though he would definitely get embarrassed if I teased him about that. Hee hee hee...")

He giggles, having a much warmer smile on his face as he gently takes Yuma's hand off the page, so that he can grab a bookmark and place it between the pages before quietly closing the book, and setting it aside on the nightstand. Then he'll drape the blanket over Yuma a bit more, and give his head one soft pat before gesturing 'shh' to Shinigami, and goes back to quietly playing the game~ "Have a nice nap and happy dreams, Yuma..."

[ask-the-riders]

Just an ordinary night

So uh... yeah. There's numerous things going on here. To kick everything off, Ret was more than likely under the light of a full moon and now Famine has to deal with the shift in his personality. Meanwhile, Pest and War are getting increasingly awkward because it's movie night, and right in front of them, it's like Ret's a completely different person with one goal: seduce Famine

This bit is mildly suggestive ^^" and I apologize in advance. Ret says some things in Spanish to mess with Fam, he's formed his ecto body, and there's a little grinding at one point, but it doesn't go further than that. Sex is also a subject that's brought up, but it's mostly Pest that's talking/joking about it, because he's being immature and picking on the other riders

On the plus side, Pestilence has a great time being a little shit and teasing not just Ret, but also War (and Death, just a tiny bit)

The rest of the stuff that happens has to do with Death, Connie, and Abrael. Namely,, Connie's way of trying to teach Abrael how to get stronger and be able to use her magic, followed by Connie receiving a bit of a lecture from War on how she needs to take a break from all of it. We also catch just a glimpse of the feelings that Connie still has for Death, too

**I used google translate for a few of Ret's lines, since I myself don't speak the language. Hopefully google translate didn't somehow mess any of it up ^^"

Famine's cheekbones were dusted the faintest shade of faded denim blue and he continued staring straight ahead, intent on watching the movie that everyone had agreed on. Pestilence and War were cuddled up to each other in the spare recliner, with War lying on top of her soulmate, neither one of them the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Retribution had agreed to join in on movie night as well, which was a bit odd to Famine. Usually, he either declined or brought a book and read while everyone else watched the movie. He hadn't brought a book this time though, which was also a bit odd. The shorter of the pair was seated on Famine's lap, snuggled as close to him as possible. Famine had his arms gently wrapped around the former prince, who currently had his face buried in the crook of his neck.

Everything was fine, right up until Famine felt the other begin to kiss along his neck vertebrae, occasionally nipping. At the unexpected sensations, Famine froze in place, his sockets widening the smallest bit. Keeping his voice low as to not disturb Pest and War, Famine mumbled, "Ret?... What're you doin'?..." Retribution's own voice almost sounded like a purr as he murmured back, "Tempting you. Is it working yet?"

The taller rider's blush darkened a small bit and he arched a brow bone, "Ret... seriously. What's up with ya? You've been actin' weird ever since sundown." Retribution hummed softly, remaining completely casual as he began to form his ecto body, "The full moon's out, that's why. I'll explain it better though if you kiss me first~" Famine unconsciously began to fidget, seeming hesitant, "Uhhh... I would, but Pest and War are here. Last time I checked, bein' lovey in front a' people wasn't somethin' you're a fan of."

Retribution made a face, almost pouting as he turned to fully face his partner, now straddling his lap. Feeling the other's formed body beneath his clothes as Ret leaned forward and pressed his chest against him, Famine's blush darkened even further. Immediately noticing this, the former prince laughed softly, his hands gently gripping Famine's shoulders as he began to kiss along his jaw. The taller of the two squirmed again, instinctively moving his hands to hold onto Ret's hips, and Ret let out the smallest gasp in surprise.

Famine briefly met his gaze and the shorter smirked, mischief flickering in his now hooded sockets as he purred, "¿Preferirías que lleváramos esto al dormitorio?~" Famine had no idea what Retribution had just asked, but upon seeing the rather sultry look he was wearing and recognising the language he just spoke as Spanish, Famine's single eye light momentarily vanished, leaving both of his sockets dark. His blush became much more obvious and Ret laughed softly again, clearly amused as he murmured, "It seems you like it when I talk to you like that... That's interesting."

Famine's eye light began to return and Ret smirked again, grinding himself down into his lap, "¿Te prende?" At the sudden pressure in his lap and against part of his pelvis, Famine clenched his jaw shut, trying to bite back a startled groan.

Glancing in their direction curiously, War's eyes immediately widened and her cheekbones burned blue; Unless her eyes were betraying her right now, it looked like Retribution was in the midst of trying to seduce Famine. What in the ever loving fu-

She lightly tapped on her soulmate's sternum with a finger, making sure to get his attention before whispering, "Please tell me you're seeing this too." Pest made a face, visibly confused, and War nodded toward the sofa. Shifting his gaze to the other couple and seeing the position they were in, Pest's cheekbones dusted a soft shade of green and he was silent for a moment before mumbling back, "Well damn... I wonder what's going on with Ret. There's no way in hell he'd actually be ok with doing this in front of anyone."

War sighed, making a face back at him, "Exactly. It looks like it's all him doing it, too. Fam looks like he's kinda just... sitting there and taking it." Pestilence glanced at the pair again and hummed, "Not anymore, it doesn't. Not when Fam's totally caved and is currently swapping saliva with him." The glitch glanced at the pair again and her blush began to spread down to her shoulders, in turn earning a soft chuckle from Pestilence.

Pest sighed after a moment, feigning disappointment, "Too bad that's not us... I'd love to be making out with you right about now." War scoffed, trying to hide a small, embarrassed smile, "Oh please, in this chair? We'd probably end up breaking it." Her soulmate snorted in amusement, rolling his eye lights and grinning. War had really begun to come out of her shell, and he was loving every moment of it.

Catching the sound of a soft moan coming from one of the two skeletons on the couch, War's blush began to glow faintly and she snapped, now feeling completely mortified, "Could you guys maybe NOT do this right now?! Some of us are trying to watch a movie!" The pair on the sofa separated, both of their faces stained with their own respective colors. Famine shifted Ret in his lap, now having the shorter sitting sideways again, and he cleared his throat, shooting a tiny, apologetic smile in Pest and War's direction, "Y-Yeah, sorry 'bout that, guys. Got a little carried away, I guess."

War deadpanned and rolled her eyes, "We noticed that." Sensing the steadily increasing awkwardness in the room, Pestilence arched a brow bone and spoke, "What's going on, anyway? Ret would've never done anything like this before. Not in front of us, at least. Is he doing alright?" Famine shook his head, clearly at a loss, "I have no idea, Pest. He just started comin' onto me outta nowhere, I swear. I didn't do anythin' to encourage him, either."

Pest's gaze shifted to Ret, whose face was now a bright shade of cyan as he looked up at Famine with heart shaped eye lights. Humming, Pestilence tilted his head, "You still with us, Apple Boy?" Retribution made a sound of confirmation and Famine let out a flustered sigh as the former prince moved, once again straddling his lap. Not even bothering to look at Pest and War, he spoke just loud enough to be heard, "Yeah, I'm still here. Obviously." Pestilence cracked a tiny smile, the other's sarcasm giving him a small amount of hope that he was fine, "You're not acting like yourself, dude. Are you feeling ok?..."

Ret made a face, wrapping his arms around Famine and hugging his head, pressing the taller rider's face into his chest, "For crying out loud, Pest, I'm FINE." At his face being pressed into his smaller partner's chest and feeling the soft ecto beneath his clothes, Famine's blush darkened several shades. Pestilence decided to push the issue, "Ret, come on. This isn't like you. Since when have you ever been the type to make out with someone with other people in the room?"

The former prince scoffed, appearing very minutely embarrassed as he pouted, "I'm fine, I swear. Is there really something so wrong about me being affectionate with the one I love?" War's brow bones lifted at the wording he used and she jumped into the conversation, "'The one you love'? What is this, a sudden declaration of love to him? This REALLY isn't like you." Ret shot a look at the glitch and she unconsciously shrunk back under his stare.

Absentmindedly petting Famine's skull, mindful of his head injury, Retribution let out a deep sigh, beginning to grow agitated, "He's my Honey Badger. If I feel like declaring my love for him, I will!" Pestilence immediately caught the nickname Ret had used to refer to Famine, and he grinned mischievously, a teasing tone to his voice, "Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. You're his cute little firefly, and suddenly, he's also your big handsome honey badger? That's great, oh my god."

Retribution scowled at the teasing, beginning to tremble the smallest bit. Feeling the former prince's trembling, Famine frowned, immediately becoming concerned as he spoke, his voice muffled, "Ya ok, Moonbeam?... You're shakin' like a leaf." Instantly refocusing his attention on his partner, Retribution released his head, sliding down his body to affectionately nuzzle the side of his face before making a sound of uncertainty, "They're giving me a hard time, Famine. All because I'm trying to show you how much I love you." Famine sighed, his expression softening, "...Should we turn in for the night, then? We can go back ta my room and crash. Or yours, if you'd like that better."

Retribution immediately gave an answer, nodding his head eagerly, "I'd love that a lot... It'd be really nice to have you in bed with me again." Famine smiled softly, his grin turning sheepish as Ret leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The former prince was quiet for a moment before he delicately placed a hand on Famine's chest and lowered his voice to a purr, just as he'd done a little bit ago, "Por favor hazme el amor esta noche también, Famine."

Famine still had no idea what Ret was saying, but damn, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't doing something to him. He cleared his throat, smiling sheepishly, "Ret... c'mon. Ya know I don't speak Spanish. If ya want somethin', you're gonna have ta tell me again in English so I can understand." Retribution made a face, looking shy as he slowly nodded again and glanced away from his taller partner. Now much more interested in what was going on with the pair, War and Pest exchanged glances, both silent as they tried to listen in and hear what was being said.

Retribution squirmed, his brilliant cyan blush spreading down to his shoulders. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking, his voice only slightly louder than before, "I...I was asking you to make love to me tonight, too. If you'd be ok with that, I mean." Famine's eye light momentarily extinguished and his face somehow erupted into an even brighter blush than before.

Pestilence and War's faces were now also stained with their respective colors as War suddenly choked on air, her body jolting. Pest snorted in amusement, gently caressing War's side in an attempt to soothe her as she worked on recovering from what she'd just heard. Retribution's form twitched in surprise as War choked on air, his sockets widening the smallest bit. Famine took a deep breath, trying to collect himself as Ret cuddled close to him again.

Just as War began to catch her breath and breathe normally again, Pest lightly nudged her, a stupid grin plastered on his face as he teased her, speaking louder than necessary, "So what do think, War? Should we have sex tonight?" War screeched, her body beginning to glitch harder than usual as she pulled away from her soulmate and lightly swatted at him, visibly mortified, "OH MY GOD, PEST, COULD YOU NOT CONSTANTLY TRY TO EMBARRASS ME?!"

Pestilence erupted into a fit of giggles, completely unapologetic, "Aw come on, you're so cute when you're embarrassed though, babe!" War growled, her threads snatching a pillow off the couch beside Famine. Once the pillow was within reach, the glitch roughly smacked Pestilence with it, "I'm warning you, Pest. I'm about two seconds away from smothering you to death with this pillow!" Pest wiggled his brow bones in a suggestive manner and playfully cooed, "That's unfair, babe. If you're gonna kill me, can I at least be suffocated by your ecto instead?" War shifted, landing another smack with the pillow to Pest's face, "Are you seriously asking that right now?! There's no way in hell I'd reward this kinda behavior, mister!" Pest laughed, reaching around his soulmate to lightly swat her rear, in turn earning another screech from her.

While the pair of soulmates went back and forth, Famine sighed deeply and shook his head, wearing a tiny smile with one of his arms loosely wrapped around Retribution. Ret remained pressed as close to him as possible, attempting to hide his face out of immense embarrassment. Wanting to spare his partner of any further teasing, Famine gathered him up into his arms and stood, beginning to carry him back to his room. Just as the pair slipped out of the living room, Death appeared, looking utterly exhausted as he began to glide across the room, seeming to float.

Settling on the now vacant sofa and stretching out, he let out a soft sigh of relief, practically sinking into the softness of the cushions. Seeing the reaper, Pestilence called out to him, still wearing a wide grin, "What about you, D? You gonna get laid tonight, too?" War spat out a small string of expletives at Pest, and Death only looked at him with a raised brow bone, his expression otherwise blank, "Excuse me?" Before Pest had the chance to reply, War pushed the pillow over his face to muffle his voice before speaking over him, "Feel free to ignore him. He's just being an idiot right now."

Death hummed in acknowledgement, letting his sockets drift shut, "I gotcha. May I ask why he chose this particular subject?" Pestilence jabbed his soulmate in the side, not quite hard enough to hurt, but only to make her loosen her grip on the pillow. As she let out a surprised yelp, he stole the pillow from her, placing it behind his head as his grin became mischievous again, "Maybe you should go ask Fam and Ret. I'm sure they'd have an answer for ya."

Death let out a low, long hum, the sound completely monotone. As he pieced together what Pestilence meant, he cracked one of his eyes open the smallest bit and sighed again, "I'm just gonna assume I know what they're probably doing right now." War made a soft sound, trying to push away her annoyance as she questioned the reaper, "Do you know what's going on with Ret? He's been acting really weird. Like... way more openly affectionate, and he was being super casual about attempting to seduce Famine when they were here with us."

Lying down and making himself comfortable, Death shrugged his shoulders, "The full moon's out. From what I know, that does something to him. Being more lovey is to be expected, but trying to seduce Famine?... He must've been outside under the direct moonlight or something. I don't really get how it works, but eh. As long as he's not being an ass and causing problems, I don't care what he does."

The front door opened and Conquest made her way inside, muttering to herself as she tugged Abrael inside after her, her orange magic closing the door. The former pirate appeared unconscious, not moving or speaking, and Conquest was very obviously less than impressed, one of Abrael's arms over her shoulders while one of her own was firmly wrapped around the other woman's waist as she used her body to support the other's weight.

Naturally, Pestilence was the first to speak, "Well damn. What'd you do to her, Connie? She looks pretty roughed up." Conquest let out a deep sigh, shifting Abrael and settling on hoisting her up into her arms, her magic appearing again to make it easier to carry her, "We've been training for a while, and I've been trying to teach her how to use magic and conjure things." She was silent for a moment, glancing at the former pirate and furrowing her brow bones, "Perhaps I should've started off slower and allowed her more time to work on the warm-ups."

War tilted her head, arching a brow bone, "Was she slacking off again or something?..." Annoyance seemed to very briefly take over Connie's expression, before it quickly faded to exhausted acceptance, "Yeah... As usual. It still hasn't dawned on her that she needs to be taking this whole thing seriously. I've tried approaching it from every possible angle, but so far, nothing's worked." The glitch made a face, able to sense Conquest's frustration, "...Y'know what, Connie? You're taking a break from training her. I'll take over for a while."

Conquest was surprised at War's words, both of her brow bones lifting, "War, that's very kind of you, and I really appreciate it, but I-" War growled lowly in agitation, and Conquest stopped speaking. Whenever War made that sound and had that look on her face, the conversation was officially over. There'd be no more debating the issue unless she wanted to risk upsetting the glitch, and Conquest wasn't about to take that chance. She trusted War enough to leave Mortem with her every so often, but at the same time, she knew what those blue threads of hers could do. Maybe she hadn't seen the full extent of what they were capable of, but she'd heard stories from the others.

She knew that, much like with Error's threads, their purpose was to capture and ensnare targets, right before shattering their souls. Connie knew War would never do that, but with her temper, sometimes it worried her a bit.

War had made the offer to take over training Abrael for a while so that Connie could take a break from it and rest, if need be. She was concerned for her, in her own roundabout way, but Connie understood, and she was thankful. Offering the glitch a soft smile, she sighed, "Alright then... If you're sure it won't be a problem, then go for it. I appreciate it very much." War hummed, "Yeah, sure... I know that you're trying to help Abrael get stronger so she's more capable of handling herself, but you're not taking into consideration what all the extensive training is doing to you, too. Nobody here wants to see you push yourself too hard and get hurt."

Conquest's disposition seemed to soften and her cheekbones flushed a faint shade of orange; She was so used to looking after others that it was always a surprise when anyone expressed any sort of desire to look after her. It was unexpected and a bit odd feeling, but it made Connie smile again, "I know... Thank you for being concerned about me, War. It really means a lot to me."

War's own face became a soft shade of blue and she waved off Connie's words, "Yeah, yeah, sure. 'M glad you're happy." Conquest rolled her eye lights and resisted the urge to giggle at the sudden shift in the other rider's attitude; From openly concerned and worried, to awkward and embarrassed... Yeah, that sounded about right for War.

She stole a quick glance at Death, who was still sprawled out on the couch with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful and relaxed... It was nice to see him looking that way, instead of stressed and exhausted. She attempted to be subtle, appreciating his outward serenity. Although he looked completely at ease, there was always something going on in his mind, and she never knew what any of it was. Before her own mind had the chance to begin wandering, she hummed, offering Pestilence and War a tired smile, "I'm gonna take this one to her room and get her situated, then I think I might call it a day... Goodnight, you two."

She paused, hesitating a moment, "And goodnight to you too, Death... I hope you sleep well tonight." Death opened his eyes, his sockets still hooded as he looked up at her and smiled faintly, "Thanks for that... Goodnight, Connie."

[starship-squidlet]

The Green Fields of France: Chapter Two

Summary: We meet our speaker. He begins his quest.

Word count: 2,218

Disclaimer: The Green Fields of France Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @aggressive-bucky-barnes-stan (ask to be added/removed!)

A/N: Whoo, actual scenes in this one, not just Charlie monologuing 😅

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Next chapter: Chapter Three

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Charlie O’Dell. I was one of only two children who lived in that tiny house in Harlem who could say they were related to Grandma Ellie—since that’s what almost everyone called her—by actual blood.

My mother, Robin Nickola, was born in late 1917. She and Grandma Ellie did not have a good relationship. She felt closer to the person she always referred to as her surrogate father.

Charlie Morris moved into the tiny house, which was often just called Starling Mission, in 1917, after Mush and Finch left. He was exempt from the draft due to lingering effects of a bout with polio when he was a child. Grandma Ellie, along with literally everyone else who ever knew him (whether they called him Charlie or Crutchie, the latter being more common due to the crutch he needed to move around for most of his life, not that he ever let it slow him down) described him as one of the kindest, gentlest people they’d ever known, and also as an impossibly strong person who would fight tooth and nail for the people he loved or who couldn’t fight for themselves. My mother was often one of them.

She spent most of her life—beginning when she was a teenager—fighting with her mother, rejecting any aid offered to her by Grandma Ellie, full of anger and impetuousness. While I know my grandmother loved my mother with all her heart, there were also times when she found Robin difficult to handle. When my mother left Starling Mission, entire years would pass where they never spoke. With Charlie, it was different. The only father that my mother ever knew, she loved Charlie dearly. There are few people in the world who I would rather have met than him, but he died before I was born, much to my mother’s sorrow. His death sent her into the spiral that would eventually take her life, when I was a little over two years old.

I know my mother loved me, but I wish that I could remember her. Her face is little more than a hazy image in my mind, preserved and occasionally refreshed by the handful of photographs Grandma Ellie has of her. I hardly remember JoJo either; he died when I was small—around six, I think—and was buried in the graveyard behind the cathedral he was raised and worked in, along with many of his friends who had passed at that point, including Charlie.

I was eighteen before I finally got the full story about what happened in 1917 particularly. Once again, it didn’t come so much from my grandmother but from her friends, Uncle Tony and Uncle Al, who had come to help her with Starling Mission after Charlie’s death, until it closed. For the next three years, until I graduated high school and left for college, it was just the four of us, even after Uncle Tony and Uncle Al moved out. They had raised me on stories of the newsies that they had known and grown up with themselves, including Finch, Mush, Charlie, and JoJo, as well as themselves. I idolized them all, and would have given anything to meet any one of them. The story of 1917 waited until I was eighteen because, during my first semester of college, I had a class assignment that drove me to ask questions I had never pressed for answers to before…

.*.*.*.*.*.

“Hello? Grandma, Tony, Al!” Charlie called, smiling as he pushed open the worn wooden door of the tiny Harlem house he had always called home. He heard a loud bark and a giant ball of fur came barrelling through the hall to slam into him, effectively knocking him onto his back. The dog weighed easily as much as the teenager, half of that in hair alone, and, despite being over a decade old, still had the same boundless energy he’d had when he was a puppy. Charlie laughed and tried to wiggle out from under the dog as it licked his face vigorously. “Bear, that’s enough—stop it!” he squealed.

“Bear, down!” Elaine scolded, hot on the dog’s heels. Her grey hair was swept back into a long French braid, and she shuffled along the battered wooden floor in a pair of handmade house slippers. When the dog finally climbed off of Charlie and he stood up and brushed the loose fur off of himself, Elaine stepped forward and wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He smiled into the top of her head. Charlie had outgrown his grandmother when he was eleven years old, and was nearly ten inches taller than her now. He had never looked much like her anyways; where Elaine had been all dark hair and pale skin and dark eyes, while Charlie was red-tinted blond curls and soft brown eyes, although he had the same smear of freckles across his pale cheeks. Elaine reached up and cupped his cheeks in her hands, giving them a pinch as she smiled up at him. “Welcome home, Charlie. We missed you.”

“I missed you too, Grandma. Are Uncle Tony and Uncle Al here?”

“They’ll be here a little later,” Elaine said over her shoulder. “Come have something to eat; you must be hungry after that train ride.”

The kitchen was warm and familiar, whitewashed cabinets and counters, worn appliances, a table full of dents and scratches and other marks, every one of which had a story behind it that Elaine would happily tell. Charlie sat down and ran his thumb over one of the deeper scratches, remembering what had caused it. “How have you been, Grandma?” he asked as Elaine joined him, carrying two plates of food.

“I’ve been fine, sweetheart,” she smiled. “How is school? Have you been getting enough to eat?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Charlie laughed. “Although it’s not as good as Al’s cooking.”

“Not much is as good as Al’s cooking, my own food included,” Elaine laughed.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been calling much; we have final papers and projects due starting right when we get back from Thanksgiving break,” said Charlie. “I’ve been spending most of my time working on them.”

“I figured as much,” Elaine nodded.

“There’s one I haven’t started yet, though,” said Charlie. “I wanted to ask you for some help on it while I was home.”

“Of course,” Elaine perked up. “What can I do to help?”

“I was wondering… Would you mind telling me more about what happened to Mush and Finch? We’re doing a family history project, so I have to make a family tree and write a paper about a major event in my family’s history. I think I have the family tree pretty much sorted out; we only have to do immediate family, not go into extended, so I just did what I could with that, but I wanted to write the paper on what happened to them in World War One. I know you don’t like to talk about it, and I understand that, but I also think it’s time I know what happened. I’m eighteen now. It’s a part of my history, too. I just want to know.”

Elaine was uncharacteristically still and silent for a long moment. Finally, she forced a smile and looked at him, although her eyes were distant and full of sorrow. “Maybe… maybe another time, Charlie. Ask me again tomorrow.” She stood up, scraped the rest of her food into the trash can, set her dish in the sink, and wandered off, leaving Charlie alone in the kitchen.

.*.*.*.*.*.

A few hours later, Charlie answered the door—struggling to hold Bear back from leaping out of it—and let his adoptive uncles into the house. “Hi,” he laughed, dragging the dog away from the door as Albert closed it.

“Hey, kid!” Race beamed. As soon as Charlie released Bear and stood up, Race scooped him up in a massive hug. Despite the fact that he was nearing eighty, Race was still as strong as he had ever been, and easily lifted Charlie several inches off the floor in a back-cracking, bone-grinding, lung-crushing hug. Once-blond curls had faded to white streaked with sand, and had thinned over his temples, but blue eyes still sparkled with mischief above wrinkled cheeks. Albert, on the other hand, still had a full head of deep red hair, cut shorter than it had been when he was young, and hardly had any wrinkles—a few worry lines on his forehead, and deep laugh lines around his mouth and crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes—nor had he paled with age like Race had, cheeks still flushed red to match his hair. He waited until Race had set Charlie down and stepped away to lean in and wrap an arm around the boy’s shoulders in an informal hug, turning him towards the kitchen and starting down the hall.

“You’re going to tell us everything about school, right?” Albert teased.

“All the juicy details!” Race piped up from behind him.

“Met any cute girls?” Albert teased.

“Or boys!” Race added.

“No, nothing like that,” Charlie laughed. “I’ve been too busy with work and homework.”

“Good,” Albert nodded. “Focus on your studies.” He winked and leaned in to whisper: “But there’s no harm in having some fun every now and then.”

Charlie laughed. “Thanks for the advice, Uncle Al. Hey, I have a question for you two.”

“What’s that?” Race asked.

“Well… I asked my grandma for help with a school project; I have to write a paper about a major event in the history of my family, and I wanted to write about what happened to Mush and Finch, but when I asked her about it, she just sort of… left. She’s never talked about it. Do you two know why that is?”

Albert and Race traded glances. Race leaned against the kitchen counter and shrugged. “Probably has something to do with the fact that she doesn’t know what happened.”

“Anthony!”

“What? It’s the truth,” Race shrugged again and turned towards Charlie. “Elaine got a pair of notices informing her that they’d been killed in action, but was never able to find out any details. Not even where they were buried.”

Albert had taken a seat at the table and folded his hands, staring down at them with a grim look on his face. “We didn’t find out until we came back. Didn’t find out about them, or about any of the others who didn’t make it. And a lot of us didn’t make it… We tried to help where we could, looking for more information through contacts we had, but we could never find anything about Mush or Finch. All we were able to find out is that they deployed to France—we know that for sure—but not even where in France they went, except that it wasn’t where we were, or where Tommy and Spot were.”

“Eventually, we had to just give up,” Race’s voice was low. “There was nothing more to be done. It was like after they left New York they just disappeared. It broke our hearts to stop looking, but it was even harder on Elaine. Not that she ever said anything like that to us—she would never. But you could see it in her eyes after that. Something was gone. Some sort of light. It never really came back. It started to, a little, when you came to live here, but… Never fully.”

Charlie sat quietly. Bear came over and rested his head on Charlie’s leg, drooling a little onto his knee. Charlie petted his head absently, mind whirling. It had never really occurred to him that the reason Elaine had never told him anything was because she didn’t know herself. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, and bit his lip. He didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you,” he croaked out finally. “For explaining. I’m sorry… I’m sorry to bring up those memories.”

Race walked over and rested a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It’s alright, kiddo. You’re right; you deserve to know. They’re your family.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

Grandma Elaine and I never spoke about Mush and Finch again—at least, not in that way; she still told me her stories of when they were young, but they always tapered off as they got closer to 1917. I didn’t press. It was clear how much the topic hurt her, and I didn’t want to cause her more pain. What I did, however, and without saying a word to her, was begin my own investigation into what had happened to Patrick Cortez and Nickolas Meyers.

For three years, my search bore no fruit. I wrote letters, sent requests for records, and did everything else I could think of. I even put ads in papers asking for information from anyone who was in France at that time, and reached out to anyone in France who would listen to me—in my broken French—to beg for their help in my search.

It wasn’t until 1968 that I began to have hope. I returned home from the day’s classes to a letter, stamped with several postmarks, from a young woman in France who thought that her grandfather’s journals and stories from the war may have the information I was searching for…

[punnybonessnas]

How are the babies doing boys? Any news? Updates? How's being a father? Enjoying your families? Has your children said any words yet??

He looked up with a blink of tired sockets, a bemused grin crossing his face as he cradled his bundled daughter close, the skele-guppy freshly bathed, and chewing sleepily on her father’s bony fingers.

‘whoa there pal.. feelin’ a lil’ bit rattled? heh.’

He glanced back down to Calluna, leaning down to press a soft kiss into her damp hair, prompting a few twitches of small, bony fins while she yawned, nestling more into the towel.

‘well, she’s startin’ ta’ get on solid foods, heh.. not includin’ my fingers of course, that’s just an occasional snack. dyne’s doin’ fine, just tired workin’ her summer job, on top of shifts at the gym.. and paps has been helpin’ out tori with summer school, makin’ sure the kids keep hydrated, an’ get their snackage, heh.. he loves it.’

Shifting the sleepy baby to his other arm, he unbuttoned her freshly laundered onesie to help her into for sleep, much to the drowsy infant’s displeasure, voiced through her grumpy whines.

‘lulu’s still a bit young ta’ be talkin’.. but she’s definitely developed her own little language, we’re gettin’ pretty good at interpretin’ it.. less’ we get an earful. still not walkin’ either, but she.. more than makes up for it with the shortcuts, that’s why we’re gettin’ such a late start on the bedtime routine, took dyne’ and i on a wild goose chase through the park today, she didn’t want ta’ go.. an’ it took a while ta’ wear her out enough ta’ catch her. was past dark by the time we all got home.’

Snapping the buttons back in place, he scooped up his newly dressed child, chuckling and kissing her head again as she settled, carrying her back to her crib to put her down for the night.

‘cute lil’ tyrant..’

The newest father meanwhile, looked to be asleep on his feet, his teensy newborn little more than a bundle of blanket, only the tips of little twitchy fins visible as she pressed close to his chest, quietly latched to bone.

The exhausted scientist startled awake with a blink of hazy blue eyelights, shaking his head as if to clear away the sleepiness, delicately moving a fold of blanket so as to show the tiny guppy, a sleepy, but proud quirk to his usual grin.

“Melody’s perfect, she’s a very quiet baby, at least for now. Think it’ll be a while before we know whether she inherited my level of energy, mweh heh.. not too much mischief she can get up to, when she’s still so dependent on us.”

His voice was much softer than usual, the lump of blanket behind him making it obvious that his wife was still sound asleep, the skeleton settled against the end of the bed with his daughter, attending to her as quietly as possible.

“There was a bit of worry at first, because she didn’t take to soul feeding right away.. but as you can see, she’s got it down to a science now, mweh.”

He lovingly rubbed a thumb over the newborn’s sleep-fluffed hair, the smallest glow of magic passing between them as she fed, still visibly latched to his partially exposed rib-cage.

“Think she was just a little confused, seeing as she’d first tried to feed from her uncle. Poor Sunny, ehehe.”

‘hey there, i guess it is high time for an update, huh?’

The spectral father was reclined on a half-submerged river boulder, indicating toward the water below where his daughter currently was, ripples along the surface the only warning before a small, wet head popped up from the depths, fins flicking excess water off as the guppy stared upward at him.

‘we’re all doin’.. surprisingly well. we’ve been livin’ in an abandoned huntin’ cabin, out here in the woods.. the townspeople actually told us-.. well, undyne bout’ it durin’ her stay in the clinic, said it was a fixer-upper, but could be spruced up with some elbow-grease.. even invited her ta’ do so.. it’s worked out really well for us.. it’s even close ta’ the river, so amelia’s quite content with our new digs, heh.’

Pushing off from the rock, he floated down to scoop the mini siren from the water, cradling her in the crook of his arm, while she settled against his transparent hoodie, her eyes half-closing.

‘ame’s walkin’ well, even though she prefers ta’ swim when she can. an’.. even though it’s really rare, she does talk. an’ i mean.. pretty much complete sentences.. really threw undyne n’ me for a loop, since we hadn’t done much speech trainin’ with her yet.’

He chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss along the crown of her head, prompting the guppy to glance up and smile at him.

‘our lil’ miracle’s just that special.. heh.’

‘i guess i can take a minute ta’ learn ya on what’s goin’ on.’

The peacekeeper stretched tiredly, reclined back on the couch as he wound fresh bandaging over a gash along his forearm, nodding to the curled up form of his son, sound asleep at his side, hugging onto a much smaller, fluffy pup.

‘riley’s finally on solids only, much ta’ our relief.. and he’s toddlin’ round’ well, though he has a habit of pretendin’ ta’ fall over and cry, jus’ so he’ll be picked up.. we gotta break ‘im of that, can’t be doin’ that round’ anyone else.. could make him a target.. seen as easy EXP..’

‘we’ll protect ‘im of course.. but monsters got long memories. an’ we’re not always gonna be there.. he can’t be labeled as weak early on. other n’ that.. we’ve finally found a house that’ll suit us, closer ta’ the outskirts of town, got all tha’ paperwork n’ shit done too, so we’ll be movin’ fore’ long.. it’ll be nice ta’ have more livin’ space, after bein’ crammed up in an apartment.’

Finishing the binding, he pushed off from the couch and scooped both pup and son into his arms, hardly rousing them in the process.

‘that’s it fer’ us, good fuckin’ night.’

‘...’