Author's Note: So, part two. As you'll see below, there is a trigger warning, so those who are fainter of heart can feel free to skip the chapter. For those people, there is a summary in the final notes of the chapter so you can know what happens in this chapter. But yeah, I won't hold you here long, I really only had one thing to say and that is that I am changing a lot of characters' names to sound more medieval, even if only slightly, so fair warning there, I'm not ignorant to their actual names, I just changed them, and in the case of Janna's father James, I gave them a name. So, enjoy!
TW: Death/Gore/Grief
Special Thanks:
Socram12(Ao3): Thank you for being the first person to leave kudos!
…
The Measure of a Man
Part Two
Routine: Part II
His heartbeat pounded heavily as he absorbed the sight of his mother. He came to the woman's side and knelt down beside her. His father worked to help her to her feet, but she was in too much pain. Rafael didn't want to take any more risks that night, so he got on her level, lifted her from the ground, and walked into his home. Marco once again glanced into the direction that the knights had fled to, an almost expectant look on his face.
He shook his head, refocusing himself and heading back into his home. His mother's breaths were ragged, her hand was permanently placed on her stomach and neither man knew how to act. The woman pushed Rafael's hands away and gestured for the two to give her some space.
She leaned against the wall behind her and took a deep breath before speaking to the two directly.
"I have something to tell you," her tone was anxious. Marco and Rafael met at each other's gaze and looked back to the woman. She hesitated, looking to the ground as she finally came to say it.
In a disappointed tone, she explained, "I- I'm pregnant."
Marco's eyes gaped and his jaw dropped to the floor. Beside him, his father had a similar reaction. Neither could speak. Neither knew how to feel. This was great news, but…
The monsters.
They came to the grim reality at the same time.
"You're worried the child won't be safe," Rafael inferred. Angelica's eyes glossed over again. Marco looked to the ground and rubbed his arm uncomfortably.
"No," Rafael stated in a flat tone.
He continued as his wife lifted her gaze to meet his, "No, we can't think like that."
Angelica tried to make an argument, but Rafael placed a finger to her lip in dismissal.
"Let's not worry about it right now, we need rest," he suggested, gesturing to the set of blankets on the floor with a faked smile on his face.
"It's good news. We need to just stay positive," he reassured the family a final time before laying down on the ground and pretending to fall asleep.
Angelica looked to her son for some objection, but he was just as worried as her and he had just as few words to say as she did. So, they did as they were instructed to. Angelica joined her husband's side on the ground while her son wrapped himself in the other small blanket on the other side of the small hut.
It took a long time for him to fall asleep after that. He reveled in the absolute silence of the town, thankful that his family had survived another week.
…
He awoke into the same silence that he had fallen asleep to. Through the thatch walls of his home, the sunlight peered through and into his eyes. He had made the mistake of sleeping faced the wrong way again, and now, he was awake. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a second as he caught his bearings, then turned to face his parents, but neither were there.
He quickly got to his feet and checked around his home, even checking the hatch, but even still he was the only one left in the place. Quickly, he pulled his wool tunic over his shoulders and darted out the door.
The sun pervaded its light into his eyes. He immediately threw his hand in the air to block it, the intense glare still seeping its way around his hand. He looked to the ground for a moment so he could adjust to the new lighting.
When he was able to see, he looked from side to side for his parents, but everywhere he looked, there was only empty space. Luckily for him, there were a few assorted Mewmans awake and roaming around, so he knew for sure that he wasn't alone in the village and he felt better about what he was seeing being real.
Regardless of that fact, there was still something amiss. He walked to the nearest Mewman and quickly questioned, "Hey, have you seen my parents?"
The man, old and tired, slowly turned to face him and squinted his eyes to see him better. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead, he looked over the boy's shoulders and widened his eyes. Marco stared incredulously at the man, but as seconds passed, the man only continued to stare. Marco began to become confused. The man began to mumble something unintelligible and Marco finally decided to turn and see what the man was staring at.
In turn, he had the same reaction as the man. His jaw dropped and fear spread through him like a virus. Standing at the edge of the forest was a creature, standing tall as he scoped out the village. This was no random creature however, it was a monster, and he had no good intentions.
But- They attacked yesterday, he reasoned. They shouldn't have been attacking today. They had never attacked two days in a row.
Marco turned to where the old man had been and came to the realization that he was gone. Seeing this, Marco did the same, kicking up dust as he fled toward his home. He stood just outside his door sighed as he gathered some courage. He needed to do this, regardless of the attention it would bring to his home.
"The monsters are attacking!"
His screams echoed throughout the village. It was silent for one or two seconds. Then, chaos ensued. His village erupted in panic. Jumping, running, crashing into objects, and tripping over themselves, the people of the village furiously sprinted to get to cover. Marco turned to where the vicious monster had stood before and made eye contact with him. His narrow eyes pierced into him with intent. He snarled before taking a step in the boy's direction.
His instincts screamed at him to open his door and run inside, but his heart overpowered his mind. He still focused his mind on his mother and father. The monster's advance was tauntingly slow, as if he thought killing Marco would be so easy that it didn't matter how quick he ran. At all times Marco remained acutely aware of how close the monster was while he looked out for his parents.
And finally, he caught sight of the two. They ran toward him in a dead sprint. The monster saw them as well. He tilted his head and smiled in realization, but still didn't change his course as he was aware of where they were going. There was nowhere they could hide that he couldn't get to them.
Marco continued to hold the door open until his family made it to their home. The second they got in, he slammed the door shut and began pushing the cabinet toward it. His father came to his side and helped. Angelica also helped to make the process go faster, grabbing the chairs and handing them to the boys.
Once the door was covered, they moved to the final step of the routine. The monster outside began to taunt them, making his footsteps thunderously loud. A bead of sweat fell off Marco's forehead. He waited as his father pulled the hatch off of their hole and led his mother inside.
Next, he hopped in, knowing his father wouldn't do so until he did. Once his father jumped in, he hurriedly pulled the heavy piece of wood and covered their hole.
Almost instantly, they heard their door fly off of its hinges, flying and crashing against the back wall of the house, just beside where they all hid. The monster scanned the room and sniffed around.
Inside their hiding spot, they could see through the board they used as cover. They saw the monster standing just where they had before. Marco's breathing staggered. Rafael quickly put his hand over the boy's mouth, glaring at him. Marco still peeked through the holes, his heart racing as the monster knelt down and sniffed the ground. The monster's eyes narrowed. He crawled forward a few feet and sniffed the ground again. He inhaled the smell loudly, getting to his feet and smiling.
Immediately, his eyes shifted to the pit they all sat in. He smiled cruelly and Marco could swear the monster was looking him directly in the eye.
In a voice so intimidating that Marco thought he would faint, the monster taunted him, "You know what I love about Mewmans?"
They dared not make a sound.
He continued, still staring at Marco, "Beyond their taste I mean…"
Marco felt his throat tighten and squeeze as a chill ran up his spine.
"They always leave something behind. It's like you want to be found, you sweaty little child."
Marco's eyes widened as the monster lifted his hand, drawing his claws and drooling all over the floor.
The monster snapped his gaze to the side as a child screamed outside their home. He looked back to the pit where the Diaz family lay and smiled, licking his face as he ran through the wall of their home and toward the child.
Both Angelica and Marco looked to Rafael, whose eyes widened at the sound. The man looked to his wife. Both knew what was about to happen, but neither would back down. Rafael looked to his son and smiled, remarking, "You were brave today," before lifting the hatch and hopping out. As she did before, Angie held on to the cloth of his shirt. The man made eye contact with his wife and smiled, stating "I love you more than anything, Angelica."
The woman's eyes glossed over. She released her hold on the man and he ran toward the child who still screamed.
Marco looked to his mother, who was already looking in his direction. She shook her head, warning him, "Don't. Please, don't do it."
Marco's eyes glossed over just as his mothers did. He blinked his tears away and looked to her with pleading eyes.
"I can't let him die," he reasoned.
The woman's eyes began to overflow, tears streamed down her face.
"He-" she began. Rafael screamed in the distance. Marco's pupils dilated. His mother froze in place.
Marco sprung to his feet and emerged from their hiding place. He ran to what remained of their front door and watched as a child ran past him into his home. He stared ahead but could only see dust.
While in the moment, he didn't think much of it, he processed the child's presence. If that's the kid that was screaming-
His thoughts were cut short when the dust began to fade.
He saw a silhouette of a body on the ground and felt his legs moving involuntarily. His eyes continued to widen more and more as he got closer to the limp body. He felt his knees getting weak, his hope starting to fade.
Then he saw him.
He fell to his knees several feet away from the body. His father turned to face him, blood spattering from his mouth. Marco crawled to him and held his head in his hands.
The man tried to speak, but every time he exhaled, more blood would come out of his mouth. He looked his son straight in his eyes and smiled. Marco couldn't contain himself at the sight. His father was dying, growing pale with each passing second.
The boy scanned his father's body and saw the wound. Instinctively he moved to cover it, but as he applied pressure, more blood oozed out. He removed his hands from the man and raised them just in front of his face. He began to shake. His hands were totally covered in blood.
The man finally managed to speak, "Marco," he muttered. The boy turned to his father to give him his full attention, despite the chaos around him.
"Dad, you're-"
"Dying, yes," he affirmed, his tone compassionate.
Marco sobbed, unable to wipe his eyes with the bloody hands.
"Why did you do that?" Marco questioned in an almost angry tone.
The man only chuckled in response, his head feeling lighter and his vision beginning to leave him.
He answered sincerely. "Well, son, I would certainly rather-" he coughed, "...rather give my own life than a-"
He began to wheeze. Marco couldn't control his emotions anymore, his eyes welled up further to the point that his vision was almost totally impaired. He blinked away some of the tears and tried his best to listen to his father.
"..a child's," he finished, coughing once more, blood splattering on his son's face.
"Heh, sorry," he said in a joking tone.
The boy couldn't form a response. Rafael's smile faded as he realized that his joke was ill-timed.
Dust swirled around the two, the attack continued all around them.
"Son," he said again, this time in a more solemn tone.
The boy continued to sob but listened with intent nonetheless.
"You must understand why I have done this," he asserted. The boy scooted closer, holding the man's hand as he continued.
"The measure of a man is how much he is willing to give in order to do what is right," he stated in a solemn tone, his eyes not leaving his son.
He explained, "My father told me the same thing when I was your age, I've been meaning to-"
He had another coughing fit. Marco squeezed his father's hand. Once the man was able to control himself again, he did what he had before, knowing his final breath was near. He didn't cry, didn't even wince, despite the unimaginable pain he was in. No. He smiled. He looked at his son with pride.
And as he felt his life force draining, he looked his son in the eyes one final time, giving the loving message, "I love you, son," before his breath left him. The smile remained on his face as a tear rolled down his cheek. Marco shook his head as his father's head got heavier.
"No," he began.
The man didn't respond.
"No, you're not-" he repeated to himself.
The expression the man left on his face didn't change. Marco felt his body begin to shake. He squeezed his father's hand tightly, pleading to him, "Say something," repeating it over and over.
"Say something," he cried.
"Please," he shouted in a desperate tone.
The world seemed to stop spinning. He wrapped his arms around his father and hugged him tightly, tears still streaming down his face.
Around him, the dust began to fade once again. From the destroyed entrance to her home, Angelica saw her son, but also saw the monster in the distance rapidly approaching. She gasped, screaming out her son's name.
"Marco!"
He turned to face her and at the last second saw the monster charging in his direction. His eyes widened as he froze in place. The same monster that had killed his father looked him dead in the eye and approached with vicious intent.
Marco closed his eyes as it was too late to dodge the attack.
But seconds passed.
Seconds passed and he didn't feel a thing. He feared opening his eyes just for the monster to be standing over him, but when he opened his eyes, the monster was nowhere to be found. He looked around and finally saw him. He was on the ground with someone beating down on him.
As Marco looked closer, he realized that it was the king himself. Once again Marco froze in place. He looked around and saw all of the guards fending off the horde of monsters and frowned.
He glanced back to his father's face and closed his eyes for him, getting to his feet and standing over the man as he finally muttered the words, "Goodbye, dad."
He let his gaze linger for several seconds, then blinked away his tears and ran to his mother.
The woman wrapped her arms around her son and squeezed tight as the monsters were finally driven back.
Angelica pushed Marco back softly and looked into his eyes as she asked "Where is your father," and he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He couldn't muster the words to say it. He looked down at his bloody palms and met at eye contact with her again. She tilted her head in confusion, opening her mouth to ask a question, but the words died in her throat.
"He-" Marco tried to explain, his eyes beginning to feel irritated after having cried so many tears. The woman questioned again, "What- Did you find him?" Her tone was desperate and she was clearly panicked.
Marco didn't dare to break eye contact and neither did his mother. Her eyes narrowed and her throat felt like it was tied in knots.
Marco nodded, a tear falling from his eyes. His hands began to shake, his mother looking down to see them.
"Marco," she questioned, still refusing to make the connection. He had to do his best to keep himself from just shouting it at her. Instead, he simply moved to the side, allowing her to see him for herself.
Just as he had, she only saw a silhouette, but as she took a step closer, her eyes widened as she slowly came to the realization. Marco watched as she made her approach. He looked from left to right to make sure the streets were rid of monsters and finally came to join her, even if he couldn't muster the strength to look at the body again.
"No," she began as she quickly got to her knees and pressed her hand against his face.
Mewmans around the village began to come out of hiding. The King glanced over at the two as he commanded his knights to "Check the brush to make sure there are no lingering monsters."
Marco fell to his knees again, joining his mother, though still not looking at the body.
Desperate, Angelica told Rafael to "Stop messing around and wake up," to which there was no response. Then, as Marco had, she found the wound and lost her breath. She began to quiver in place. She looked to her son for some reassurance, but he still couldn't find it in himself to look anywhere but the ground. He fell completely silent.
Around them, the townspeople began to form a circle a respectful distance away.
Everyone watched sorrowfully as the mother and her son grieved over the loss of their loved one. Janna, James, and Tala Ordonia watched in horror. Jackie Lynn and her mother watched feeling remorse for their close friend. The child that Rafael had given his life for stood crying by his own father, whose face was riddled with guilt. Even the king broke into the circle and quickly understood the gravity of the situation.
Behind the king were a few knights, in fact, the same ones who had spoken down to him before. Their expressions weren't condescending, but respectful, and the silence that lingered wouldn't be broken for several minutes.
After some time passed, a group of Mewmans walked toward the Diaz home and began picking up the pieces of their destroyed home. One by one the people joined them, each person helping the ones beside them to rebuild. Marco turned to see what they were doing and as he saw it, he sighed, finally looking back at his father and realizing the effect he had on people.
In a world filled with monsters, both with claws and with Mewman faces, Rafael was good. In his dying moments, he passed on a lesson, smiling on his face knowing that he had done right. And now, Marco couldn't look at his father with any emotion but pride.
He had learned much that day, but above all, there was one thing that he would never forget. Coincidentally, it was a part of his last words, "The measure of a man is how much he is willing to give in order to do what is right."
He would live by that notion, if not for himself, then for his father and everything he represented.
He looked back to the people who were putting his home back together and got to his feet. The king watched with curiosity as he walked toward the people and spoke.
"You don't have to do that. You should go home," he paused, "Where it's safe."
Janna smirked, walking toward him and jabbing at his arm, joking "And just where are you going to sleep tonight?"
He tried to speak up again, to make an objection, but as he began, another friend of his came to Janna's side, remarking, "Janna's right, even if the sarcasm was unnecessary. It's only right that we do this."
Marco furrowed his brow. Hoping to save them the trouble, he argued once more, positing "It's not your problem, really. You don't have to…"
Janna smiled, this time more sincerely, remarking, "But we want to. We know your father would have done the same."
And at that, Marco knew that any argument he made would fail. He sighed, looking to the ground. Ahead of him, both Janna and Jackie took a nervous step back. Marco looked up at them, confused.
He felt a firm hand grip his shoulder and he flinched. As he turned around, he realized that it was the king and he tried to calm himself.
He didn't know what to say, the words died in his throat. The king saw his nerves getting the best of him and sighed, giving him a moment before beginning.
"I am… sorry for your loss," he said in a sincere tone.
Marco nodded, still unsure of what to say.
"I can see that you are still in shock. I don't mean to intrude on this unfortunate moment, but I have a proposal for you, hopefully, to help you grieve," the king continued.
This time, Marco found his voice, responding, "Oh, thank you king- I mean- Lord Butterfly."
The king chuckled shortly before remarking, "Call me River, please."
Marco hesitated, but obeyed nonetheless, "Okay, thank you, River."
The man nodded, continuing to explain his "offer".
"Now, I won't keep you long. I simply propose that you meet me at the castle gates tomorrow morning, only if you are feeling up to it that is."
Marco's eyes widened. River lifted a brow in confusion at the boy. Eventually, Marco steeled his nerves and answered, "Yes- Yes sir, I can do that."
The king stared at him incredulously.
"...River," Marco corrected himself. The king smiled, patting him on the shoulder as he walked away, stating "Then it shall be. At first sunset!"
Marco watched as the king walked away and facepalmed at his embarrassment. Janna chuckled, mocking, "YeS, SiR," to which Marco sighed.
…
By nightfall, his home was restored. He sat in his most private place, the top of his thatch roof, staring at the moon. There was something about that night. The stars were brighter, the moon felt more lively. He just knew his father had something to do with it. But it was time to come down. Hours had passed since it all had happened. His father had been buried, the people of the village were safe, and most importantly of all, he and his mother were still standing, even if emotionally wounded.
He slid off of his roof and to the ground, where his knees absorbed the impact. He walked into his home and sighed before sitting down at the table while his mother stood by the fire cooking.
Surprising to Marco, his mother spoke, greeting him with a soft "Hey Marco," before she added that she was "Almost done with dinner."
Marco nodded and yawned, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling.
It was quiet for a few minutes after that. Angelica would occasionally look at Marco, almost appearing as though she had something to say, but if that was the case, then the words must have been dying in her mouth. As for Marco, he didn't think there was much to be said. They took a hit that day. It would take a while before he recovered.
But finally, his mother fought against her nerves and asked him the question that she had stuck on her mind, asking "What-" she hesitated again, but it was too late to stop then.
"What were his last words?" Her tone was uncomfortable, but it was clear that she needed to ask, and Marco didn't feel that he had any right to withhold the information.
"He," Marco paused, trying to think back to the moment, but no matter what he did, he found his mind being locked on anything but what he said, whether it be the chaos that enveloped them, the blood on his hands, the child that ran into their home, or even the gushing wound on his chest. He was distracted.
He closed his eyes and focused. The image replayed in his head and he repeated the words as he remembered them.
"I- I asked him why he would risk his life and-"
"He told me that he would rather give his own than let a child die."
He opened his eyes and observed his mother's desperate expression. He focused as hard as he could.
"Then he- He told me that he wanted me to truly understand why he did it. He told me that the measure of a man is how much he would give in order to do what is right."
The woman smiled, even while looking to the ground, remarking, "That's your father…"
"But," Marco cut in again.
His mother tilted her head.
"His last words, the real last ones, were him telling me that he loves me."
Angelica's smile grew as she sighed in silent contentment. She turned back to the fire and lifted her pot from it, putting out the fire with a splash of water before placing the pot on her cooking table.
"I'm glad it was you," she started as she pulled three wooden bowls from her cabinet and set them out on the table. At first, neither realized it, but as she started to explain, she noticed it, just before she would have poured a serving of food into it.
"Oh," she muttered, picking up the bowl and placing it back in the cabinet with a flat expression.
Marco watched her from that point on, she was only now feeling some of the more subtle effects of his absence, the lack of a third serving to give out for example, and her motions beyond that moment were clearly far less cheery.
Still, she explained her reasoning for being 'glad it was Marco'.
"I- I just- The world needs more men like your father," she stated in a serious tone. Marco scooted forward in his chair and made eye contact to display his attention.
"I just know that if I was the one that had been with him in those moments- You just- His words might not have had the same effect."
Marco frowned as he came to realize what she meant. He furrowed his brow, countering, "I- Mom you know that I love you, I would still listen-"
Angelica cut in, smiling as she made her point in a soft point, "Yes, I know, Marco, but I also know that you adore your father. It needed to be from him, because now-"
She hesitated.
"Now I know for sure that his final message will always live with you… And beyond that, I know that you'll strive to be better… for him."
He took a moment to absorb her perspective and leaned back in his chair, sighing in defeat.
Noticing his frown and realizing that they both needed a distraction, Angelica smiled as an idea came to her mind.
"Have I ever told you the story of how your father and I met?" Marco glanced up, his eyebrows peaking as his curiosity piqued as well.
The woman chuckled as she filled a bowl with stew and slid it across the table to Marco, sliding a spoon as well as she joked, "I'll take that as a no."
Immediately, Marco dipped the spoon into the stew and lifted it to his mouth, blowing on it before taking a bite.
"Tastes good mom," he remarked, his mother thanking him before beginning her story.
"Really, I'm surprised that I haven't told this story to you before, you know, considering-" she trailed off before coming back on to the topic.
"Okay, so, your father is obviously a gentleman, right?" Angelica questioned with a smile on her face.
Marco lifted his spoon to take another bite. As he swallowed, he answered "I would assume," to which his mother snorted, shouting "Nope!"
Marco tilted his head in confusion.
Angelica shook her head, laughing, then began again, "Actually, and you won't believe this, he used a pick-up line."
Marco jutted his head back in shock, his mother bursting out in laughter at his response.
"Gosh, I can't remember- oh no, I think- No no no, he said, and these are his words, he said that he'd like to storm my castle. And keep in mind, he was literally shaking as he walked up to me, so I knew he wasn't actually like that, but after that, he was far too nervous to talk to me, I actually had to find him in the village to get to talk to him again. Clearly, I was right to do so."
As she looked back to her son, she broke out in laughter. The entire time, probably the second he heard the pickup line, his face had been in his palm, but underneath, she watched him holding back his laughter.
She was looking to push him over the edge, so she had to resort to something less than appropriate.
"Just wait until I tell you how he got me to sleep in the same blanket as him…"
Marco spit the food from his mouth and burst out in laughter, banging the table and spilling his food on his lap in the process. His mother almost collapsed in her laughter, having to wipe a tear from her eye while her son screamed in pain, jumping as he shoved the hot food off of his lap.
Luckily, they had an extra serving of food this time…
…
Author's note: Hey there, so there it is. I'm actually pretty thrilled with how this chapter turned out, top to bottom, it was just really good. I wrote it all in a day, so I would assume it flows together well, and in my opinion, it is probably some of my best writing, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I hope that my trigger warning was listened to and nobody had any issues reading that. From the beginning, this chapter was meant to be pretty heavy, so I'll put a brief summary here for anyone who didn't want to take the risk.
In short: Rafael passed away. In his final moments, he conveyed a message to his son, and this is why it is titled "the measure of a man," because, in this message, he explains that, "The measure of a man is how much he is willing to give in order to do what is right," and Marco will remember that message as he progresses through the story and all of the situations he is in. To end the chapter, after Angelica asks Marco about her husband's final words, she does her best to lighten the mood. She tells the story of how she and Rafael met and the two share a much needed laugh. Oh yeah, and the king was there when Rafael died, so he tells Marco to meet him at the castle gates the following morning, which is where the next chapter will pick up.
So, that's it for now. I can't give a firm date for when the next chapter will come out because this took like an entire day and you know… I have a life, so it can be hard at times to find time to write, but know that it is going to be on my mind at all times.
And with that, I ask one final thing of you, and I do this every chapter. Basically, if you like the story and the direction it is going, tell me! A review/comment means a lot to me. I respond to every one and like to display them at the start of every chapter, same applies to kudos/follows/favorites, so please, do that for me if you are enjoying the story and I promise I'll respond. It's just really cool hearing from the people reading whether it be constructive criticism or just a fun comment on how you feel or just a question you have, I love hearing them and they always put a smile on my face. Okay, I'll stop begging now. See you soon!
~lucash21