Author's Note: Well, somebody had to write about this game. (Also Junior, Kamek, Bowser, and the Koopalings are a family and Miyamoto can rip that headcanon out of my cold, dead hands.)


There he was, standing, back to himself. Morton was alive. Breathing. Bewildered, but unscathed. He was okay. They were all okay.

Time inched by as they stood frozen in that shredded, yet familiar hall, all attention on Morton, who was slowly coming back to his senses. Roy felt almost paralyzed, and by the looks of it, everyone else did too. No one seemed brave enough to break the silence for a good while as they all watched- wary, yet gradually dropping their guards.

Finally, a sound- a loud sniffle- pierced the heavy atmosphere and all present simultaneously snapped out of their daze to look at the smallest of them all. Junior, teary eyed and snot nosed, ran full sprint to the center of the circle they had formed and embraced Morton's waist with all the juvenile despair of child clinging to his favorite stuffed toy.

The unintelligible ravings of the sobbing prince ensued, as Junior hugged, and occasionally gave an exasperated punch to his big bro's gut. Morton looked down at him, puzzled for a moment, offering short responses as he tried his best to simultaneously regain his bearings and follow the rant he was being bombarded with.

On any other occasion Roy could've laughed at his youngest brother's complete break in character, as he'd never really shown any of them such aggressive affection before. He could've cracked wise about the whole bizarre situation, to show off his brazen lack of fear with an unconcerned smirk as usual. But this was not any other occasion.

Roy was the next to move, as he approached Morton with an uncharacteristic hesitation. This was real, wasn't it? This was the moment he had been fighting to live in, the moment where he got see his little brother unharmed, right in front of him. He thoughtlessly placed his hands upon Morton's shoulders, as if to force his brain to register that this was reality. All of the struggle of the past few days, all the battles he'd grit his teeth through- they were worth it. All the thoughts of failure that had prodded him like red hot irons could be laid to rest, and with that weight lifted off of his heart, Roy began to do the unthinkable.

He cried.

He drew Morton into a tight hug, holding him like he could slip away again at any moment, and cried bitter tears of relief, his resolve sapping away with every shuddering intake of breath.

Suddenly wrapped up in two separate hugs, Morton stared over Roy's shoulder, stunned, the unprecedented emotions from both of the brothers nearest to him swallowing him up in an instant. He attempted to fight the lump in his throat, trying to assure everyone that he was just fine, but nothing emerged but a strangled sob, and then a tearful laugh.

As the unfamiliar sight finally sunk in and enveloped the room, all pretenses of fearlessness and indifference were abandoned. The rest of the room was drawn to the middle in one way or another, until they all stood together as one. The unrelenting adrenaline that they had all been forced to run on for several days shattered, and all that was left in its place was a nine-man task force, hurting and utterly exhausted.

Reunited and only just beginning to process the near-death experiences, surreal threats, and looming dread they had been forced to wallow in for hours upon hours. Most so seldom found solace in open emotional reconciliation, but today was a stark exception to that invisible rule. As they huddled together in their crumbling home, a silent promise was made. A renewal to their vows to stay by each other's sides, come what may, and to protect each other fiercely. In this moment, they were not an army. They were a family.