Luther Addams glared at his reflection in the mirror, turning from one side to the other and flexing his arms. "I had that dream again. The one about the Moon."
Allison looked up from filing her nails. "I still think it means you should be an astronaut. I know Five and Vanya think it's evidence of an alternate timeline where Hargreeves adopted all of us, but I disagree."
Luther kept scrutinizing the mirror, lips pursed. "I always wake up feeling violated and gross. I just don't know why." Allison sighed setting the file down and crossing to stand next to him.
"You shouldn't. And hey," she bumped shoulders with him, smiling wide. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."
Morticia knocked once on the doorframe, peeking her head in at the two of them. "Hello my darlings. I felt that the two of you might have a need for mothering."
Luther slumped, making eye contact with Morticia in the mirror. "You may come in, Mother."
Morticia slipped into the room soundlessly, sitting herself down on the foot of Luther's bed. "What's all this about, Luther? Is something the matter?"
Luther dropped to the floor beside her, his head finding her knee. Shame and disgust curdled his stomach and dried out his throat, stealing his voice. He shrugged helplessly as Allison seated herself on the other side of Morticia.
"I don't fit in here. I'm too big, too pink, too clumsy, too vanilla, too straight. But outside I fit in. I look right- well, mostly right. But I just…" Morticia reached down and stroked his blond head.
"There's no shame in being ugly, darling. A great many ugly people have gone on to do wonderful, successful things. Looks should never stop you from reaching your dreams. And besides, looks aren't everything. A great many people love vanilla best of all, and there's no reason to feel disheartened by that. You're my son, and Addams, and a brave, savage boy. There's nothing more any mother could want for her child."
Luther buried his face further in the fabric covering her knees. His voice was muffled, and Allison threw him a comforting look he couldn't see.
"What if what I want is to play sports, get married, and live in a house in the suburbs." Morticia's hand faltered in its stroking. "Then I suppose we'll have to purchase some-" "jerseys," Allison supplied. Morticia nodded. "Yes, those ghastly polyester things. And of course we'll arrive en masse to support you. Shine or rain, ballbasket, cricket, or yam. I'll even attempt to learn the rules to feetball, if that would bring you joy." She smiled indulgently at him, as his eyes finally raised to meet hers.
"Just no pastels, my darling. Your Aunt Debbie gave us quite enough of those for awhile."
Luther rose, catching Morticia and Allison in a group hug they'd neither expected, nor prepared for.
"Thank you, Mother."
Morticia squeezed them both tightly. "There's also no reason you and Five can't both go to space camp this summer. All you can ever aspire to be is the best version of yourself, darlings." She pulled back to look them in the eye.
"Just know that Addamses stick together, and there's nothing you could do to make us love you any less. Except maybe becoming a Republican politician."
Five chose that moment to teleport into the room, carrying a marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich that he handed Luther without a word. Disappearing for a moment before flashing back with a few pamphlets, which he also handed over.
It took barely a minute for the room to fill with the rest of the family, both living, and, if Klaus were to believed, dead.
Luther only realized he was crying when Gomez handed over his handkerchief. "There's no right way to be my boy. And everyone needs a good cry ever now and again."
Grandmama waved a yellow banner from the doorway, obviously upside down. "Go feetball!"
Diego covered his eyes, silent laughter taking over his body as he leaned against Luther for support.