Cry About it Later
It always starts with one brave fool, doesn't it?
The raucous shouts of the children circling Roy fuel him with an overwhelming supply of confidence. Ample amounts of adrenaline pump into his veins. He feels unstoppable and there's a heavy pounding in his chest that beats like a war drum to the sounds of the noises around him.
His foe is shorter than him, but definitely bulkier and meatier in the arms than Roy's usual bullies. It never matters to Roy how intimidating his newest punching bag appears to be or how the chances of winning most likely tip in the kid's favor due to his larger mass. This fool thought he could run his mouth and push Lemmy off the swings to make some stupid point without suffering from any consequences.
Idiot.
The kid signed off on his will the moment Lemmy released a tiny yelp when he was shoved to the ground, planting face first. The kid even had the nerve to laugh over Lemmy as Lemmy spit dirt out of his mouth and wiped the new cut bleeding under his chin. Roy didn't hesitate to abandon his game of catch with his group of friends, barreling towards the kid with a roar. He knocked the punk right off his feet, shoving the unsuspecting idiot to the ground with a perfectly timed check of his shoulder. If this moron thought no one would come to Lemmy's aid, he was dead wrong.
Roy offered Lemmy a friendly hand and pulled his big brother back to his feet. Lemmy returned Roy's kind gesture with a thankful smile which faltered when the kid on the ground started yelling out empty threats directed personally at Roy. Roy had laughed challengingly right back, launching his own set of taunts at the kid with grandiose bravado. He dared the kid to try to take a swing at him and even offered the kid the opportunity to take the first hit.
Lemmy had gripped Roy's arm tightly, opening his mouth to most likely oppose the fight. Roy knows his older brother always hated the violence and brawls, but Lemmy swallowed his futile words, gave Roy's arm a gentle squeeze, and then stumbled off towards the water fountain to clean his face.
The loud exchange between this nameless punk and Roy quickly gained the attention of his playing classmates. They swarmed around Roy and the kid like a mob in minutes, prepared to watch the ensuing fight with uncontainable enthusiasm. The chanting began even before one of them threw the first punch. It sounded like his classmates expected quite the show this time around. Finally there appeared to be a challenger equally matched to Roy. Roy smirked eagerly as his group of classmates cheered him on from the sidelines.
Roy isn't one to skip out on the opportunity to entertain his overzealous fans and beat up some schoolyard nobody trying to become a full-time bully.
That's how Roy finds himself locked in a heated stare down. The kid and Roy stand across from each other like an old western stand-off, fists clenched, and ready to swing. The kid is more on the defensive, arms slightly raised, ready to block any attacks that come too close to his ugly face. Good, because Roy's always hated the waiting game of being on the defensive and he spots the kid's laughable blind spot in seconds.
The fight is surprisingly underwhelming. Seems like the kid's only picked on children who don't fight back because it's over with one hard punch. Roy aims his hit and sends it towards the opening he noticed earlier. His fist connects with this punk's big mouth that was spewing baseless garbage, the crunch is satisfying to feel. The kid is sent flying backwards, screeching in pain as he tumbles to the ground, landing hard on his butt with a pleasing thud. Roy smiles triumphantly as the howling of his classmates climbs higher, grows more out of control. The kid cups his mouth, blood seeps through his fingers, and he stares up at Roy terrified. All the cockiness the kid showboated around before is completely gone. Roy feels a brief ping of guilt as he watches the kid lose another fight, this time, against his own tears.
Roy trambles on these remorseful feelings before they begin to spread like a wildfire. What's done is done, after all. The kid deserved it.
"The ground is where you belong. Don't ever lay a hand on him again", Roy snarls, baring his teeth intimidatingly. He spits on the grass beside the kid before walking off, seemingly bored. His classmates dissipate with him, splitting back into their group preferences and continuing their games like nothing had happened. The kid remains on the ground, crying silently, and cradling his fat bleeding lip.
Roy rounds the corner of the schoolyard, retreating to the shade under his favorite tree. Out of sight and away from the noise, Roy shakes his hand. Pain crawls up his arm, but he's grown accustomed to the aftermath of a good punch by now. The more it hurts afterwards, the better the hit. He flexes his fingers, testing his grip and finds it doesn't hurt as much as it usually does. For a child as bulky as that kid was; he's too soft, like punching a bowl of pudding. How disappointing. Almost feels like it wasn't worth the trouble he'll find himself in for starting the fight.
Soon, news will spread to the teachers about Roy's newest schoolyard scrap. Whether they find out from the kid himself or a smarmy little tattletale, Roy never sticks around long enough to know the answer. He plops down under the tree, closing his eyes and awaits for his punishment to come shouting for him. A gentle breeze rustles the green leaves and shakes the branches.
Roy hears the crunching of leaves and cracks open an eye to find Lemmy. A brief look of concern crosses Lemmy's face, his eyes flicker around Roy's body as he assesses the damage. Satisfied to see Roy unharmed, Lemmy sits down next to him and releases a drawn out sigh.
"That was fast", Lemmy comments quietly, his gaze far off and wistful. Melancholic expressions don't suit him and Roy hates seeing Lemmy upset, but he doesn't know what to ever say to the child that never runs out of optimism. Lemmy needs to realize Roy would do anything for him, even fight an army of Dry Bones.
"Turns out he's softer than he looks."
Roy's attention drops to the scratches on Lemmy's chin from the fall. It must have caught onto a rock for it to look as deep as it is The sight boils Roy's blood and he clenches his jaw tightly, fighting down the urge to punch the kid again. Mom is going to ask about Lemmy's newest scrape as soon as she notices it and Lemmy will pull out another believable excuse from his seemingly bottomless imaginary hat.
"Thanks… again."
Lemmy's voice is small. He hugs his knees tightly and rests his chin on top of them, staring out at nothing in particular. He's so tiny and fragile looking Roy can't help but understand why Lemmy's such a big target for power hungry fools hoping to climb the social pyramid. Unfortunately for them, Roy sits patiently at the top ready to knock them back down to the bottom.
"Don't worry about it."
Roy dismisses the sentiment because it's his duty to protect his family. Ludwig may be the eldest, but even he lacks the physical strength Roy throws around like nothing. Anyone brave enough to cause harm to his siblings will feel the force of Roy's wrath.
Lemmy sighs tiredly, if only to break the heavy tension that settles uncomfortably between them. He leans his head on Roy's shoulder, the tips of Lemmy's rainbow hair tickles the bottom of Roy's chin. Roy doesn't mind Lemmy's habit of being physical affection. In fact, he's long grown accustomed to it and it's never gotten to the degree of Mom's coddling. If it did, he would draw the line there. They sit in silence, listening to the birds chirp and the distant sound of a lawnmower. They remain in this position until their furious and deshleved teacher finds them and drags Roy away by his arm.
…
Why is it so hard to breathe?
Black smoke, dry eyes, and burning scales, Roy shields his mouth with his free arm in an attempt to keep this poison from stealing more oxygen from his lungs. The nasty burn on his leg stings with every shift of his muscles, but he presses forward without a complaint and pulls Morton along. Dad is in front of him, holding Wendy securely in his arms. Every minute Dad turns his head back to make sure Roy and Morton are still behind him. He doesn't have to worry, Roy isn't planning on ever falling behind.
They dodge burning debris, rushing carefully down the hallway to the front door. Roy's eyes glance briefly at the family photo hanging on the wall, fighting down the urge to snatch it because he knows it's not worth the risk. He remembers the day fondly, Larry hated the bow tie and suit jacket. Dad had to bribe him with candy in order to get him to wear it long enough for the photographer to take the picture.
Roy shakes his head and continues to follow Dad. Dad manages to successfully lead them through the mostly untouched living room and outside to the fresh evening air. Dad hurriedly sets Wendy on the ground and shifts his entire body back towards the burning house. Wendy, as if sensing Dad's next move, reaches out to him and grabs his hand tightly with her tiny fingers. She whines about being cold and begs him to stay with her. Dad hushes her incoming tantrum, tone soft. He calms her with hasty whispers and simple promises meant just for her to hear. It works, of course, she's always been a Daddy's girl. She grows quiet, sniffs away the tears yet to fall and agrees to whatever Dad had promised her after this whole ordeal is over. He pinches her cheek, a notion that makes her quirk a smile then he directs his urgent gaze to Roy.
He addresses Roy with a solemn nod, locking eyes with his third eldest son for a brief moment. That one stare says all Dad doesn't have the time to say. Roy swallows thickly, there's so much he wants to say too, but he doesn't want to waste more of Dad's limited time. Dad starts towards the house once again, quickly promising them all he'll return with the others. He shouts to Roy to watch for Mom because she went to wake up Larry before he bolts inside the flaming structure.
Roy finds he's frozen in place. Morton's hand is securely in his and he can hear Morton sniffle, stifling his meek tears. He's trying to not draw attention to himself, so Roy blocks out the sound for Morton's sake. At least, this is what he tells himself. In truth, Roy doesn't have a good grip on his frantic brain to form a coherent sentence and whatever words are lodged in his throat refuse to be vocalized.
Roy gapes up at his house slowly being consumed by hot flames.
Roy can't properly focus on what's occurring right in front of him. His mind desperately bangs against the wall Roy's set up, yelling at him to help Dad find the others because it's his self-declared job to do so. He must protect his family at all costs, he prides himself with that philosophy.
Although everything inside him tells him to move, his legs won't budge. He hears the distant sound of Morton's teeth rattling, feels his brother's small hand quivering in his. Roy realizes it's him quaking with indescribable fear, not Morton. It's his teeth clacking around in his mouth, it's his hands that won't stop shaking.
"You call yourself a tough guy? Look at you just watch it all burn away."
Imagine Roy's shock and brief moment of relief when Ludwig stumbles out with an ash-covered Larry instead of Mom, coughing heavily as he tumbles across the yard towards them like an injured animal. His eldest brother let's go of Larry's hand as he nearly collapses to the grass, heaving in breathable air. Neither Roy or Ludwig address one another. Roy's mouth still isn't functioning properly and Ludwig looks seconds away from falling unconscious. Ludwig clutches the grass between his fingers till his knuckles pale, wearing a haunted expression on his face that embeds itself deeply in Roy's mind. It gnaws at Roy like a pesky little insect because some part of Roy feels responsible for Ludwig's traumatic experience. What had his brother witnessed to shake him to the core? If Roy had helped Dad could he have prevented it?
These pointless questions keep shuffling through Roy's mind and he won't receive the answers to them now.
The house moans, Roy and Ludwig simultaneously snap their attention back towards the house. Roy witnesses part of the roof beginning to collapse, shaking the ground he's barely standing steady on. His heart sinks to the ground as he helplessly watches it begin to fall apart.
Where was Mom? Dad? Lemmy? Iggy?
Roy spots Lemmy running out of the door just in time with Iggy, coughing and hacking. Iggy's strangled screams fill the silence of the forest, he desperately tries to drag Lemmy back inside, begging anyone willing to listen for help. Morton whimpers like a hurt puppy, folding in on himself as he hunches over. He releases Roy's hand to shield his ear holes from the overwhelming noises that carry out into the distance. Morton begins to sway back and forth, hoping the familiar motion will somehow calm him down. Wendy cannot handle seeing Iggy in distress, she succumbs to her own tears and begs for Dad to wipe them away. Between her sobs, Roy catches bits and pieces about Dad promising her he'd be back.
Roy waits with bated breath for Mom and Dad to come running out now that they're all accounted for. He doesn't stop waiting when the house falls in on itself or when Morton painfully clutches onto his burn, sending pain branching up his leg. Roy cannot come to terms with their parents' fates just yet and one glance at the other eldest siblings says they cannot accept it either. It's only when Wendy latches onto him too, seeking the comfort Dad cannot provide, that Roy directs his undivided attention to her and Morton.
The reality of his parents' demise finally hits him in the gut when Wendy looks up at him with the same blue eyes as Mom. He won't ever see her again. At this sudden thought, his eyes begin to sting. He fights the urge to break down himself. Instead of mourning his loss, he pulls Morton and Wendy into his embrace, rocking them gently and vomiting out stupid sentences meant to comfort them. He repeats those same meaningless words over and over again like it will somehow make them true.
Despite Roy's best efforts, tears spring from his eyes and blur his vision.
Roy feels utterly useless.
...
Why does it feel like ice is running through his veins?
Roy realizes as he grunts in pain after taking a hit to the face; it's the first time in his life that he doesn't want to fight back. Iggy, though, is brutal and relentless. His younger brother swings blindly, snarling like a feral stray protecting itself from a bigger predator. Roy keeps taking the hits, using his body as a physical shield to protect the other's from Iggy's attacks. Roy manages to catch Iggy's wrists during the onslaught and puts the rampage to a rapid halt. Iggy's claws are still drawn, mouth pulled back to expose all his sharp teeth, but Roy doesn't falter now.
"They're gone! They're gone!" Iggy repeatedly wails to the uncaring alleyways, still trying to free his wrists.
The animalistic sounds reverberate off the brick walls, echoing around Roy like a bully mocking his misfortunate life. It's a chilling reminder to where they are now and all they've lost in the span of a month. Roy cannot drop his guard despite how hard the sounds hit him in the chest and steal his breath away.
Roy manages to pin Iggy down to the ground, putting all his weight on top of his brother to keep him from hurting himself or the others. Successfully immobilized, Iggy still continues to release the screams tearing their way up his throat before they waver and break into heartbreaking sobs.
Roy isn't the type to grovel, but he wants to beg Iggy to stop because even someone as indestructible as Roy cannot handle the agonizing sounds of his shattered brother. Roy squeezes his eyes shut, pretends he doesn't see Iggy in pieces, sprawled out on the dirty concrete beneath him. Roy thinks he hears movement behind him, but isn't certain due to Iggy's loud cries. Roy glances over his shoulder to find Lemmy stepping out from behind Ludwig, cautiously approaching Iggy one timid step at a time despite Ludwig's vocal protests. Lemmy says Iggy's name aloud questioningly, uncertain if Iggy has snapped back to the present.
"I'm sorry", Iggy bemoans unevenly.
Iggy becomes dead weight under Roy, sobbing and apologizing continuously to everyone. He's long since stopped struggling to free himself. Roy relents with slight hesitation when he's certain Iggy won't start swinging again. He gets off his brother and helps Iggy sit upright. Beneath the grime on Iggy's face is a tormented expression that tells their tragic story without the need for words. He has the same dark bags under his eyes as the other children due to their lack of sleep and one of the lenses of his glasses is cracked. Tears still pour from his eyes and snot leaks from his nostrils. Roy has never seen Iggy appear so… miserable and disconnected. Roy shoots his older brothers a knowing look, pausing to find Lemmy barely keeping himself together.
Lemmy's lip quivers before he throws himself at Iggy, holding his brother close as Iggy continues to cry.
Roy's words of protest lodge in his throat. There's nothing Roy can really do to stop Lemmy anyways. He finds that he cannot bear to witness Iggy's agony any longer. It's messing with his head. Roy stands up with a grunt, dusts off his knees, and turns his entire body towards the others. He childishly pretends he can't hear Iggy's sobs behind him. It's a futile move and Ludwig appears just as bothered as Roy does. Ludwig inhales shakily, running his hands through his matted blue hair. Then he slowly moves toward Roy, hand reaching out to examine Roy's face full of bruises and scratches. Roy scoffs crudely at Ludwig's look of sympathy, shoving Ludwig's dirty hand out his sight. There's a reason pathetic hides in the word sympathetic and Roy doesn't want it thrown his way. Ludwig is obviously hurt by Roy brushing him off, but Roy doesn't allow himself to experience an ounce of guilt. Calming down the younger children should be their first priority, not him. Ludwig gets the hint. He sighs quietly and shuffles back to the younger children's sides.
Lemmy continues to calm Iggy while Ludwig begins whispering softly to the three younger children, who are huddled as far as they can be from their distressed older brother. Ludwig even manages to get Larry to smile for a split second before it disappears as quickly as it came.
As Roy joins Ludwig's cause, he sneaks a quick peek over at Lemmy still hugging a now silent Iggy. Ever since the fire, Roy feels like there's something Lemmy isn't telling him and Ludwig about Iggy. Roy's instincts believe that something happened inside their house that has affected Iggy so deeply that he cannot contain the pain when he loses his mind to his memories.
It seems Lemmy's decided to carry a burden Roy cannot hope to fix. This hadn't been the case before the fire sucked away their innocence and happiness. Lemmy was an open book, free for anyone to read, and now he purposely picks and chooses what he's willing to give away. If Lemmy cannot confide to them about what occurred in the house that day, then maybe the situation is worse than Roy initially believed it to be.
What is Lemmy not telling them?
Roy grits his teeth, trying to ignore the complicated feelings gripping his heart. He turns his head back to Wendy and pinches her cheek playfully to get her to smile.
Roy, despite his best attempts to ward away the negativity, suddenly feels useless.
…
Who does Bowser think he is?
Roy agrees with Iggy; trusting Bowser is not on his to-do list. Still, he eats the food he's offered and shares a few meaningless words with the King to keep him off his back. Roy even joins Ludwig and Kamek on their weekly walks around the castle. Of course, most of the walk Kamek spits out historical facts about the castle Roy tunes out. He only goes to learn the layout. The last thing Roy wants to do is get lost somewhere 'off-limits' in his 'new home'.
The castle Roy's forced to call home is a hollow shell compared to his old house. It feels empty despite the many occupants shuffling down the halls with purpose or the medieval decor and plants sprawled throughout the castle to combat against the various bare spaces where something feels missing. It's a place beaming with life yet he feels alone walking down the halls to meals or class. It's a contradiction Roy doesn't try to understand. He isn't the type to analyze everything he's experiencing like Ludwig is. He's not about wasting time with abstract thinking because it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Feelings fade eventually, he's learned to not pick at them like a scab and leave a visible scar because he dug too deep when he shouldn't have.
They don't have any alternative living arrangements to fall back onto anyways. There's no unheard of relatives to whisk them away and Roy refuses to live at an orphanage and watch his family be ripped apart. Here, in the bleak castle surrounded by lava, the younger children are ironically safer, well-fed, and won't be separated from each other. So Roy straps himself in for the long ride and puts up with the twists and turns of the unpredictability of the situation they're in. The castle is his home, he reminds himself of that daily, until one day it won't sound so foreign in his head.
Though Roy lives the life of luxury inside the castle, he still finds himself busy. He no longer must steal food to feed his family or stay up all night to keep watch against the threat of strangers or pesky wildlife. But there remains more complex issues yet to be solved. Even though the younger children's basic needs are met, He, Ludwig, and Lemmy must continue to emotionally provide for them. It isn't an easy job, but Roy doesn't complain. Sometimes, he has to be authoritative like Dad to get Wendy to eat her vegetables or to get Larry to stop biting Lemmy when it's bath time. After all, if the eldest siblings don't fill in those empty roles, who will?
Definitely not Bowser; he's just a rich stranger with a big heart and lack of intelligence. Kamek is off the table too, he's more like the senile old neighbor that used to live down the lane than some know-it-all grandpa the children can seek advice from.
Although Roy has accepted his dual role of parent and brother, Bowser is beginning to irritatingly wedge himself into their everyday routines. Roy thinks Bowser is playing some sort of game here. Roy clearly doesn't want the King to be involved with their personal affairs, but Bowser is either ignoring him or can't read the room well enough to realize this. Roy doesn't know what Bowser's exact end game is, but Bowser's presence is really starting to get on his nerves. Ludwig and Lemmy may not mind the assistance, but Roy does.
Bowser has begun to visit them everyday during playtime with that pipsqueak of his, Bowser Junior. The other children, besides Iggy and Roy, don't seem to care about the infant and Bowser intruding on their free time. There's even moments when Ludwig or Lemmy are forced to hold the baby so Bowser can fetch Junior his favorite toy, a warm bottle, or his pacifier. It's bad enough Roy has to converse with Bowser at every meal, now he has to deal with him during his playtime too.
Bowser also keeps asking questions. Nothing extremely personal, just little tidbits pertaining to each child. Still, Bowser's shoving his snout into business that doesn't involve him. It's almost like he's trying to learn about them, but that's silly. Why would he even care?
The King doesn't know anything about the younger children and their favorite things. Although he's tried to ask Roy, Roy won't give up any information. Bowser isn't their parents' replacement, he doesn't need to know anything about them.
Roy, on the other hand, knows all of Morton's favorite colors and the correct order in which he claims to love them because Morton is indecisive and can't just pick one. He knows Wendy loves to play princess and Roy will pretend to be her loyal knight and slay monsters for her anytime she asks. And Roy knows Larry loves music. Sometimes, Roy would catch the little guy hovering outside of the door to Dad's study as Ludwig practiced his songs on the piano. Larry rocked on his heels to the beat, humming along to the pieces. Other times, Larry would enthusiastically bob his head to Mom's rock music blasting throughout the house as she did the dishes and shouted out the lyrics. No matter the genre, Larry always found ways to dance or sing along.
What Roy cannot understand is why Bowser is so adamant to get to know them when he's got his own kid?
Bowser isn't their Dad, he's Junior's, and it should stay that way. It's up to the eldest siblings to fulfill their duties as the next in charge because it's their responsibilities as a family. Bowser is just there to provide them with necessities. He should make himself scarce and stop popping up where he shouldn't be.
Since it's the eldest siblings' role to take care of the younger siblings then that, unluckily, means it's their job to get all the children up in the morning and ready for the day.
Today, it's Ludwig's turn to wake Larry up for breakfast. A difficult task on the best of days, but Ludwig strikes out. Larry is in a terrible mood the moment he opens his eyes to the world. The toddler groans and pouts, refusing to leave his bed and even nips at Ludwig's hands with his new complete set of baby teeth. Ludwig, growing tired of Larry's defiant attitude, asks Roy for assistance. Roy enters Larry's room like a Koopa on a prestigious mission, taking no-nonsense from Larry. He is undeterred by Larry's biting and hitting, and he's the one who carries Larry to the table as Larry fights to free himself the entire trip to the dining hall.
Roy sets Larry in his chair, warns the kid to behave with a stern glare, but something inside the toddler sets him off. Larry takes one look at the delicious food set out before him and bursts into tears. His cries are loud and needy, and all the siblings band together to try and stop his wailing before Bowser arrives. Unfortunately, nothing any of them do is working and Bowser stumbles into the dining hall half-asleep.
Roy can see the exact moment the noise rams into Bowser's eardrums. The King winces, runs a hand over his forehead and releases a sigh. Bleary eyed and dragging his feet, Bowser approaches little Larry without prompt. Roy watches with skepticism as Bowser plucks the toddler from his chair like he's weightless, settles him into his huge arms, and takes a seat at the head of the table. Roy gapes in astonishment as Larry quiets down when he's instantly in Bowser's care. Bowser shifts Larry around, setting Larry cozily into his lap so he can reach over his empty plate for his steaming cup of coffee. He takes a long drink, sets it in front of him and yawns audibly. He greets everyone with a halfhearted "morning" and Lemmy and Ludwig chime back with their own "good mornings".
The toddler in Bowser's lap studies Bowser's every move with curiosity in his big blue eyes. Roy tries to comprehend why Larry appears so relaxed now that Bowser is here when Larry's only known him for a month. It doesn't make any sense. Bowser takes another swig of his coffee, unintentionally placing it down closer to Larry. A mistake on Bowser's part, since Larry's always enjoyed trying Mom and Dad's food or stealing nimbles from the other children's plates when they weren't looking. The toddler reaches for the mug, wanting a taste of Bowser's drink. Bowser snorts, indulging the kid, and assists the child with holding the hot mug steady to his mouth. Larry takes a tiny sip out of the cup offered to him, makes a face, and recoils away from the dark liquid. The other children giggle at poor Larry's contorted face but Roy rolls his eyes, shoving his food into his mouth despite the snarky comments on the tip of his tongue. How come the brat is happy with Bowser and not any of them?
Larry remains in Bowser's lap for the entire duration of the meal and Bowser doesn't appear to mind sharing his personal space with Larry either. By the time Larry is finished with his breakfast, Bowser's chest and lap is coated in syrup from the scraps of pancakes that had fallen off Larry's fork due to Larry's inability to sit still as he chews his food. At least breakfast is successfully finished without another tantrum and the children begin piling out of the dining hall, heading towards unknown destinations. Wendy chases after Ludwig and Iggy, wanting to tag along, while Lemmy heads out with Morton's hand in his, searching for fun. No one asks Roy to join them, he's still trying to figure out what happened during breakfast.
"Whatever."
As Roy hops out of his seat, the creeping feeling of emptiness begins to slither and momentarily heavies his heart. He watches Bowser patiently pick pancake crumbs from Larry's hair, an amused smile on his face as the toddler allows Bowser to clean him up.
Roy isn't needed here.
He's useless.
…
When will the nightmares stop?
Roy wakes up, chest pounding, after another stupid nightmare plagues his usually dreamless sleeps. He's more annoyed by the tears dripping down his face than terrified of the past events he just relieved. Roy sets a hand over his heart and waits until the palpitating in his chest returns to a steady thrum before he decides he needs to get out of his room.
Every part of him suddenly wants to make sure his siblings are safely asleep in their rooms so he throws the heavy covers off of him and stumbles through the dark to the door. Roy pulls open the door and winces at the intensity of the sconces across his door. He blinks rapidly to adjust to the light in the halls, rubbing his eyes for good measure. Roy is caught the moment he steps outside his door.
One of the taller, helmet-wearing Koopa's patrolling the castle stops to ask Roy where he is going so late at night and Roy makes up an excuse about needing to use the bathroom. He can feel the bewildered stare of Bowser's minion on his back as he starts walking in the opposite direction of his siblings' rooms. Roy keeps up the act of needing the bathroom even out of sight because the last thing he needs is for another nosy Koopa to blab to Bowser about Roy's awful sleep schedule. Roy doesn't want to have to explain himself to the King.
Roy makes it to the bathroom with ease, figures he should probably throw cold water on his face to wake himself up further and drown out his nightmare. But the remnants of his dream catch him off guard, fogging up his mind with grisly images. Roy growls as his eyes begin to sting, biting down on his tongue until he tastes blood. The pain returns him back to the present, he's back in front of the oak wood door to the bathroom. Frustratingly yanking the door knob, he throws open the door. Roy pauses at the sight.
Lemmy sits on the edge of the bathtub, a wad of toilet paper in his hands, tears pouring out of his swollen red eyes. At first, Lemmy is startled, looking as though he's been caught committing a devious crime. Then he seems to compose himself, dabbing away the wet trails on his muzzle quickly. Lemmy is attempting to fruitlessly destroy all the evidence. And, despite Lemmy's miserable appearance, despite the anguish carved deeply into his usually happy face, he pulls his lips into a pitiful excuse for a smile to greet Roy.
"Sorry", Lemmy apologizes hastily. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"
Roy doesn't answer. Narrowing his eyes, he studies Lemmy's face with a critical eye. How could he not see it before? He admits he's a bit dense when it comes to detecting things not spoken aloud, but not this dense.
Lemmy is exhausted. He looks as hollow and lonely as the castle they're stuck in. In fact, Lemmy is probably mere seconds away from passing out cold in the bathroom. How long has he been in here?
"Roy, are you okay?"
He's kidding, right? Would it kill Lemmy to be selfish just this once? He has the audacity to ask Roy if he's okay? Roy isn't the one crying in a bathroom at two in the morning.
Roy doesn't know why his feet start to approach Lemmy on their own. Lemmy seems just as bewildered by this as well. He intriguingly watches Roy's movements, mouth pressed into a line, fingers clutching the toilet paper in his claws tightly. Roy stops in front of his brother, opens his mouth then snaps it close. He can't think of anything encouraging to say to will away Lemmy's tears so he does what feels like the right choice to do in this scenario.
Roy pulls his brother close, reminded of the time Iggy broke down in the alleyway and how Lemmy did the exact same thing. This one action is all it takes for Lemmy to begin sobbing again. They rack his entire body and Roy squeezes Lemmy tighter to try to keep his brother from pulling himself apart because there's no way in hell they can do this without him.
Roy admits he isn't an affectionate guy. Anytime Mom planted purposeful kisses on his face as she coddled him with mushy compliments, he'd complain. He'd wipe the slobber and residual lipstick off his face with the back of his hand, cheeks burning red from shame and misplaced anger. Mom always broke into amused giggles at his suspense. She'd playfully tease her "little tough guy" and give him his space back when he chimed back with a pouty "I love you too."
Roy thinks, after losing her and Dad, that he was an idiot who took Mom's display of love for granted. He'll never hear her say 'I love you' again and he'll never get the opportunity to answer back without the attitude.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
Roy blinks away his own tears because this isn't the time to cry. This is about keeping Lemmy steady, not himself. Roy would rather be a disastrous mess if it meant Lemmy would remain himself. Is it selfish that Roy just wants one thing in his life to stay the same?
Eventually, Lemmy's sobs turn to hiccups then sniffles before fading to silence. He pulls back from Roy, flashes him a gratuitous smile, then leaves the bathroom without a word.
Roy's left there standing alone. He doesn't feel like he accomplished anything.
Roy makes his way back to his room, forgetting why he had gone to the bathroom in the first place. He jumps under the covers, closes his eyes, and tries to sleep before he starts crying like a baby.
He's so useless.
…
Will Iggy ever stop?
Iggy has another outburst and this time, Roy hadn't been quick enough. Instead of tackling Iggy as soon as the words slipped out of Roy's mouth, he chose to talk him down with the assistance of Lemmy and Ludwig. He knows he's the one responsible for bringing up their parents and setting Iggy off just to rile up Ludwig. But, at the same time, Iggy needs to learn how to control himself. They can't keep censoring their words for him.
Roy hoped Iggy would return to their world instead of drifting aimlessly around in whatever hellhole he puts himself in, but Iggy takes out all his anger and pain on Lemmy.
Lemmy.
It's not like a schoolyard bully knocking Lemmy over for a quick laugh. This was his younger brother and required more tact than some punk. It doesn't help that Iggy is viciously uncaring with his attacks. There's no technique behind them. They're fueled by pent up emotions, bursting out of him like water rushing out of a broken dam. Roy hesitates for a moment. He doesn't know why he does, because he's never hesitated to save his big brother from harm before and he's handled Iggy during his rampages a handful of times, but Roy stands motionless for a minute too long.
Hearing Lemmy cry out desperately for Iggy to stop is what pulls Roy back and he jumps into action. He grabs Iggy roughly by the shoulder and harshly yanks Iggy off his big brother. Iggy is sent tumbling backwards to the floor with a painful yelp Roy pretends he doesn't hear. He stands over Iggy, prepared to hit him if he has to, but unsure if he can follow through with it. Thankfully, the situation doesn't come to that.
Ludwig helps Lemmy sit up, his face is littered with scratches. Various shades of reds where Iggy had hit Lemmy cover his tiny body like bright tattoos on his scales. Lemmy winces when he presses down on a splotch of darkening scales on his arm, sucking air through his teeth. Roy's stomach churns, he clenches his fists because he can't just deck Iggy in the face to teach him a lesson. This isn't the same scenario as all those times at school. It's irritating that Roy can't solve his problems the same way he did before.
Bowser announces his arrival with a loud slam of the door, shouting out questions in exasperation. Iggy takes off as Larry begins to cry, running to Bowser for comfort. It takes a moment for Larry to settle down before Bowser declares he'll be the one to find Iggy while Kamek accompanies the others to the infirmary.
Roy offers to carry Lemmy despite Lemmy's assurance that he can walk just fine. Lemmy immediately disproves his statement when he almost tumbles to the ground after taking one step forward, legs shaking, and clearly struggling to remain upright. Without hearing another poor excuse from Lemmy, Roy scoops Lemmy into his arms and leads the pack behind Kamek.
As they walk in silence, Roy wonders why it feels like he's losing a battle he didn't know he was in? Why is Bowser the one to go after Iggy and not Ludwig or himself?
The entire trip there, Roy cannot grasp why he's so annoyed by the fact Bowser went off to find Iggy. Roy has never let his siblings down when it mattered most. So why does Bowser think he can't do a better job than him?
"No, that's not true."
The bathroom incident a couple nights ago proves Roy has failed Lemmy and the others on numerous occasions.
Roy had failed to help Dad during the crucial moments of the fire and, due to Roy's cowardice, Dad and Mom are no longer here with them. Now, all that responsibility his parents carried is shoved at Lemmy and Ludwig because Roy isn't exactly the best big brother, let alone father figure. He can be the authority and the entertainer, but he can't be the peacekeeper. When things grow more complicated and involve emotional trauma, Roy's more likely to dodge and escape in the other direction than provide assistance in any way he can. Roy couldn't even find his voice as Lemmy bawled his eyes out, too closed off and unconfident in his abilities to offer any ounce of relief when Lemmy clearly needed to hear Roy say 'everything would be okay'. Roy should have stomped his pessimism dead and told Lemmy the words he needed to hear.
Roy grows more agitated with himself the more he remembers instances in which he's failed them all.
Roy couldn't help Iggy when he first began to fall apart and chose to ignore it and let it get worse before realizing the severity of how much pain Iggy was in when Lemmy took the brutal beating. Roy was a coward and a failure once again when Ludwig took the fall for their habitual stealing when Bowser caught them. Roy had no qualms just handing over his title of 'tough guy' to Ludwig so he could cower behind a dumpster with the others. Roy couldn't even calm Larry down during breakfast when he knew it was his responsibility to and sat uselessly fuming in his seat as Bowser did the job for him. Roy had failed Lemmy in this instance because he hesitated to do what he had to do. He questioned his own abilities and strength in that moment and failed to react. With Roy, it's just one failure after another and Roy has the gall to think he's done a decent job of protecting his family.
Roy unconsciously squeezes Lemmy closer in his arms, grinding down on his teeth. Lemmy looks up at him strangely, head angled to get a better view of Roy's face. Roy knows Lemmy is attempting to figure him out, and to someone like Lemmy, that's an easy thing to do. But Roy wears his best statuesque mask, hoping to give nothing away because this isn't something he's willing to share. He may talk to Lemmy about some of his problems, but this is the one thing he refuses to admit.
When they reach the infirmary, Kamek commands Roy to set Lemmy on the closest cot. Roy does as he's told, gently placing his brother down on the stainless white sheets. Roy takes a step back, retreating towards the wall. He's so deep into his inner turmoil, that he doesn't realize someone is saying his name until a hand grabs his arm. He blinks, ignoring the storm brewing inside his head, and finds Ludwig standing in front of him.
"Kamek wants to know if you were hurt too", Ludwig says, hand releasing Roy's arm. Roy takes the opportunity to really look at his eldest brother.
Ludwig. He's done more for all of them than Roy has and Roy doubts Ludwig ever internally gloats about it.
"Nah", Roy answers back before Ludwig grows suspicious of his silence, playing things casual. "He didn't touch me."
Ludwig nods, sending Roy an inquisitive look, but doesn't ask any questions. Instead, he informs Kamek Roy is fine. Then Ludwig crouches down in front of Larry and wipes Larry's snot and tear trails off his face while promising Wendy he'd play with her after Lemmy is healed.
The children begin to crowd around Lemmy as Kamek announces he is ready to perform the healing spell. He raises his ruby-jeweled scepter, the jewel catching the white lights of the infirmary. Roy watches in amazement when Kamek begins casting the spell. None of them have ever witnessed a mage cast before so the children are rather curious about the process. The end of the wand glows a steady red, magic hums like a gentle lullaby through the air, and Roy's hands feel tingly and numb. All of Lemmy's open wounds steadily begin to close and the splotches of purple bruises on his body dissipate to nothing. Lemmy looks like a whole new Koopa when Kamek is finished.
The mage swiftly examines Lemmy, giving the child a once over. Kamek let's out a satisfied "hmph" when Lemmy appears to have completely recovered. Kamek then directs all his attention to Morton. Morton, Roy notices, is still quaking in fear from the fight and looking a bit pale. Kamek seems to have noticed this too. He begins to murmur to little Morton, setting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Roy is too far away to catch any of the words, but somehow Kamek manages to get Morton to relax like he's cast another spell. Kamek pulls out a box of band-aids from his long blue sleeves like a lame party trick and hands Morton the box of band-aids. Starry-eyed, Morton makes his way over to an empty cot and sits on it, cracking open the box to peek inside. Then Kamek turns to the other two younger children and begins the process all over again with Ludwig's encouragement.
Roy stays against the wall and bites down hard on his bottom lip, tasting copper.
"Useless."
…
When will it stop?
"Stuck in another nightmare."
Roy is back in front of the flaming house, the beginning of night slowly dimming the evening orange sky. He knows it's not real, but his conscience loves toying with him. He's forced to relive it anytime his mind decides to remind him of his inescapable past.
Roy's alone. He's always alone, watching it burn away to ash.
Until he hears Lemmy call out to him. He perks up, squints his eyes towards the house because this isn't usually how this scenario plays out. This nightmare is like a familiar movie he's forced to watch over and over again. He knows all the lines in his head, he knows when the roof collapses, he knows when the sun finally sets and turns the world to black. Why is Lemmy here?
"Lemmy?" He answers back.
Lemmy continues to desperately call for him. Roy's blood chills to ice when he realizes the sounds are coming from inside the burning structure. He wills his feet to move, but his body stays stationary.
"You're useless."
"Shut up! I have to save Lemmy!"
Every inch of his body is telling him to run, but every muscle in his body refuses to budge. No matter how hard Roy tries, he remains the stagnant object in a moving world. Lemmy is going to die because of his inability to act.
It's like Roy said before, he knows when the roof collapses and when it all fades to black. He cannot bear to watch what happens next. He cannot handle being a failure once again to someone he's always vouched to protect. Not just Lemmy, he's failed all of his family so many times these past few months that he could fill a book with his shortcomings.
"Wake up, you useless idiot! Wake up! Wake up!"
…
Where was he?
Roy is startled awake, hot tears run down his face, and his heart is desperately drumming against his chest. He grabs the unused pillow beside him and wipes his tears away in disgust.
Useless.
He's useless.
He really thought he could protect his family when he's failed them too many times for second chances.
Useless, useless, useless.
A guttural noise bubbles up Roy's throat. Anger. Red, hot, anger consumes him. He digs his claws into the soft pillow soaked with his tears then yanks his hand back. The pillow stands no chance against him, it tears so easily like paper. Cotton and fluff pours out of the gutted pillow and the one moment of relief? Familiarity? Rushes over him so he does it again with the other pillows, tearing them to shreds. When he's run out of pillows, he attacks his comforter, then his sheets. He knocks down one of his table lamps and it shatters into millions of colorful pieces onto the floor.
He releases all his pent up anger, using inanimate objects as his punching bags. This is his room, but none of this ornate furniture belongs to him. Nothing here holds sentimental value and it's so easy to break things he isn't attached to. He wouldn't even be here if he had done what needed to be done the night of the fire.
The door to his room slams open, Roy doesn't turn his head to see who's at the door, but he has a guess at who it could be.
"What are you doing?!"
Me myself: It's gonna be short.
8,500 words later.
I'll probably end up editing this one because I hate it for some reason but I'm just tired of staring at it.
I wrote this. Thanks for reading and reviewing what I have written. If you like what I have written, Like and Subscribe.