Chapter 1
There was complete and utter silence at the dinner table at that moment, all the Brawlers too shocked to move or speak. Olimar folded the letter neatly and slipped it into his back pocket, swallowing hard as the reality of it all sank in.
What could he possibly do now?
How could he go on when–
His thoughts were interrupted by a large hand on his shoulder. He turned in his seat to find Meta Knight standing there, and though his mask covered his face, he saw kindness in his eyes. He stared at him for a long time, and the look they shared didn't waver until Olimar finally broke down and collapsed onto him, crying.
Meta Knight patted him gently and flashed Mario a meaningful look. Mario caught on immediately and cleared his throat.
"Olimar, I know this must be hard..but you're always welcome here. You can become a permanent resident if you want."
Olimar lifted his head slightly, loosening his grip on Meta Knight's cape but not completely letting go of him.
"What about my daughter?"
Mario blinked, dumbfounded. The letter didn't say anything about a girl.
"Well...I suppose she can stay too. How old is she?"
"15 months..."
Mario cringed. The idea of having a baby around of bunch of rowdy fighters wasn't ideal, but this was hardly the time to say no. He nodded once. Olimar pulled away from Meta Knight.
"That means a lot," he said, voice cracking slightly. He got up from his place at the table and began walking towards his room as fast as he could, a fresh wave of tears already streaming down his face. He couldn't handle being around anyone right now.
He entered his room–a room he barely used–and threw himself down on the bed. He buried his face in a pillow.
It's all my fault..
He wasn't around for them, always working or off at tournaments, neglecting his duties as a father and husband. He failed to protect them and now his wife and his little boy were missing. The police said in the letter that they were doing everything they could, but he had every doubt that they'd ever be found.
Still, he had to be strong. For Millie's sake. He couldn't let despair overtake him, not when she needed him most. He'd just have to put some faith in the police and keep an eye on the baby until..
Something happened.
He shook his head and clutched the pillow closer, trying to draw some sort of comfort. How could he think of moving on so soon?
He began drifting off, inviting sleep to escape these troubling thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. Maybe things would start to make more sense tomorrow.
Waking up the next morning was painful. He'd dreamt about her. He didn't want to get out of bed, staying completely still to try to go through the dream in his head so he would remember it. But it was already fading, and he held back tears as he pushed the covers off of himself and tried to rub the redness from his eyes. He didn't want to look weak in front of the other Brawlers, even if he had cried at the dinner table last night. He didn't know why he felt like he had to save face. He was humiliated he broke down like that while everyone was watching, that he thought it was a good idea to open his mail in front of them in the first place. But he knew people would ask questions, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he needed their support. They were like his second family, although with a bit more fighting and rough housing. Still, they cared for him, but he didn't want anyone to get the impression he needed to be taken care of. So he sucked it up and padded downstairs, willing the pink tinge on his face to go down. There was only one that was up early enough to greet Olimar that morning.
Meta Knight eyed him from where he sat at one of the counters, sipping a cup of black coffee (though how he did that through his mask was a mystery). He didn't ask any questions or offer words of comfort, simply biding him a short, "good morning."
Olimar didn't respond, busily dragging the stool out from under the sink to reach the cabinets. The stool had been put there for the shorter members of the household so that they wouldn't feel like a burden. Olimar, being the shortest of all, had to lug it all over the house, but he didn't mind as long as he could do things himself.
He set the stool down in front of the fridge and began pulling things out–bacon, eggs, cheese, sausage, etc.–deciding to make up for his behavior by cooking enough for whoever gets up first. He hoped none of them was Kirby, or there wouldn't be nearly enough. Thankfully the pots and pans were on a lower shelf, so he grabbed a few and set them on the stove, setting out his ingredients on the counter beside it. But he couldn't reach the dials.
"Er...Meta Knight?"
"Hmm?"
"Can you..help me?"
Meta Knight was thankful Olimar couldn't see his very amused expression as he hopped down from his seat and came up beside him. The movement was so quick it could've been the act of a ghost, how silently and effortlessly he glided over. Olimar shook his head, feeling silly for thinking the masked warrior was creepy.
"Just give me a boost, will you?"
"Alright."
Meta Knight held out one hand and used the other to brace it as Olimar stepped up and used the oven handle as a railing. With his free hand, he stretched out just barely enough to reach the dials, turned all of them on, and pushed some of the pots and pans onto the back burners. The stove was quite impressive in size. Meta Knight's stance faltered, and before he knew it, he was toppling over onto the floor, sending Olimar crashing down with a pot in his right hand. Meta Knight still had a grip on his foot, so when he fell he accidentally flipped the little alien over. Olimar landed on top of him, the pot flew across the room, and he was staring directly into those yellow eyes. He blushed and immediately pushed off of him, dusting himself with an annoyed expression.
"What was that all about?" he grumbled. Meta Knight looked unfazed, as usual.
"You're heavier than you look," he replied evenly, sliding back into his seat to find that his coffee had gone cold. He dumped it in the sink and went to pour himself another cup. "My apologies."
Olimar continued to mutter to himself as he slapped bacon onto a pan and cracked a dozen eggs into a large bowl. He flattened out little circles of sausage onto a skillet and began whisking the eggs, but his mind was not focused on the task at hand. His thoughts were millions of miles away, back on planet Hocotate. The police report said that Millie was placed in the care of his in-laws for a couple days. He cringed. She'd be fat in a week, with the way they liked to cook. He took a spatula and flipped the bacon, flinching a bit at the harsh sizzle that spat hot oil at his face. He wondered how she was doing, if she was okay. She was probably screaming for her brother nonstop. Since the day she was born, they were inseparable.
He would carry her around and play with her and feed her whenever he could, almost like a pet.
Speaking of pets...
He wondered whatever happened to Bulbie.
The little runt was probably stuck in the house, yapping away at the door. His in-laws never cared for him much. Poor thing.
He poured the eggs in a pan and began scraping it around and chopping it with the spatula, trying not to think about how Mario would react when he brought Bulbie to stay at the mansion. It probably wasn't good that he forgot about that. Hopefully he wouldn't mind, as long as Bulbie could play nice with the Pokémon.
He flipped the sausages and pressed them with the spatula. The bacon was done.
"Meta Knight, do you think you could bring me something to put this bacon on?"
Meta Knight grunted and Olimar could hear him shuffling some dishes in a cabinet, looking for something large enough for all of it. A moment later he set a platter on the counter beside the stove and Olimar scraped the bacon onto it before adding more to the pan. He'd have to make a lot.
"Oh, and something for the rest of this too, please?"
Another grunt, and a few more plates appeared on the counter.
He felt the other pause right behind him, and Olimar braced himself for the question he'd been waiting for all morning.
"Are you alright?"
Olimar sighed loudly and dished the eggs onto a large plate, sprinkling cheese over it as he replied, "Define 'alright'."
"I mean, are you fit to carry on as normal...will that mask of yours hold?" he could hear the raised brow in Meta Knight's voice.
"What are you talking about? There's no mask. You're the one with the mask," he defended. Internally, he was frustrated that he'd noticed so quickly.
How can he see right through me? Is it that obvious? Or does he do that with everyone?
Meta Knight laughed.
"Yes, I suppose that much is true. Maybe I'll tell you about it one of these days."
Olimar had no time to ask what he meant before he heard someone enter with a loud yawn. Sonic slunk into the kitchen, bunny slippers and all.
"Hey Mety."
"I told you not to call me that," Meta Knight hissed.
"Whatever–Olimar!"
Olimar turned at the sound of his name, expecting to find Sonic's expression change from surprise to pity. It did, but then it shifted to something that confused him. Fear. With effort, he ignored the look and busied himself with finishing up breakfast.
Sonic apparently realized his mistake and plastered on a smile, moving to sit beside Meta Knight at the counter.
"Wow, that smells great!" he exclaimed.
Olimar shrugged off the compliment.
"You're in luck. It's first come first served."
Sonic perked up at this, but didn't move to grab a plate or anything. He continued to sit there, eyeing him warily until he was done with his work and hopped off the stool.
"You're taller than me, you should turn off the stove." The commanding tone in his voice made Sonic flinch. "I have somewhere to be," he added.
Sonic nodded silently as Olimar exited through the hallway, and as he left he heard Meta Knight yell at him.
"What the hell was that all about?" he snapped.
Sonic let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Look, I'm just keeping a safe distance. People who are upset and keep it bottled up are very...unstable." The last word sounded like it stung, as if he knew all too well what it was like to get caught up in that.
Meta Knight didn't seem too convinced.
"That doesn't matter. How would you expect anyone to be after something like that happens to them? He needs support right now, and you're being selfish!"
He heard Meta Knight toss his cup into the sink, but didn't hear him approaching until he was already turning the corner. He paused for a second and looked at him. Olimar must have looked very confused, because Meta Knight brushed past him and told him to follow.
"I..er...thanks for what you did back there."
Meta Knight was silent a moment.
"Think nothing of it. I'd do the same for anyone. I'm tired of everyone in this house acting like we aren't a team."
Olimar nodded slowly.
"Still...thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, patting his back.
"Where are we going?"
Meta Knight led him down a hallway he'd only been down a couple times before.
"The docking station. I know you're not too concerned about the state of your ship–and you're right, it is a piece of junk–but you'll need it if you want to return to your home planet and get your daughter."
Olimar froze.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
Meta Knight seemed thoroughly annoyed by the question.
"What else are friends for?"
That's funny, none of the other Brawlers had ever called him "friend".
"..fair enough."
They entered the docking station, and Olimar was surprised to find his ship fully operational, not a scratch in sight. Last time he saw it, the thing was completely totaled. It seemed the only way to put it on the ground was a crash landing.
Olimar blinked a couple times.
"How–"
"You can thank the Pikmin. I saw them working on it a couple weeks ago. I guess they wanted to surprise you."
Olimar nodded. The Pikmin were always trying to stay busy. Meta Knight continued.
"How long is the trip? If you're going to be gone a bit I could watch them for you."
Olimar opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Meta Knight held up a hand.
"It's not a favor or anything. I think they've taken a liking to me, so I'm happy to do it."
How was that so? They hardly spoke before then. Had Meta Knight been spending time with the Pikmin whenever he was away? It wouldn't surprise him–he really didn't expect anyone else to do it, and Meta Knight had always been dutiful. But perhaps...he was trying to get close to him? No, that was ridiculous.
"That's fine. But don't say I don't owe you."
Meta Knight just chuckled in response, leaving without another word. Olimar watched him go, trying not to wonder just what he was playing at. Perhaps there wasn't any harm in letting one person help him out.
Grab some tissues. This story is heavy.
Reviews are much appreciated!