Probably the most surprising thing that's happened over the past couple of days is the fact that they now officially have a semi-useful plan for defeating and capturing the Black Knight. It's especially surprising because the smartest people in their little makeshift group – Mort and Krel, don't tell Krel Steve said that – aren't even part of the plan-making process. Both of them, along with Douxie and Seamus, have been busy trying to figure out the whole Gaylen's core ordeal. They moved back to the Mothership to work on integrating magic and Akiridion tech, but Steve still doesn't like any of it. He doesn't trust Gaylen's core in the slightest, and, quite frankly, he doesn't like having Krel anywhere near it. Not because he's worried or anything. It just seems like a bad idea.
"Okay," says Mort, sitting down at the dinner table in Krel's house. He's the last of them because he'd been helping Lucy cook, which had actually been really amusing to watch. "So you have a plan to take down the Black Knight?"
"Yep," Toby says. "Uh, side note, I vote we just call him BK. Black Knight is a bit of a mouthful, don't you think?"
"The Black Knight is very clever," says Ikram. Toby sends her a pouty look and she sighs. "The – BK – is very clever. If we want to defeat him, we have to be cleverer."
"For the record," says Steve. "The plan wasn't my idea."
"Yeah," says Krel with a wide grin. "She just said it has to be a clever plan."
Why does Steve have a problem with him getting into trouble, again? It might be easier to just let him get possessed or something.
"Let's run through it," says Nimue. "Steve?"
"I'm–" Steve cuts off with an aggravated sigh, then continues through gritted teeth. "I'm bait."
Krel hides a laugh behind a hand. Steve glares at him.
"The rest of us will be hiding behind anti-detection spells," says Ikram. "We'll split up and surround the area."
"When BK shows up, then we attack!" Toby stabs his baked potato with a fork and a wide grin. "It'll be, like, eight of us against one of him, so we've got to win."
"I've gone ahead and got us dart guns," says Nimue. "We'll load them with a magical sedative that should put him under."
"Then, we bring him back to Mort's and interrogate him," says Steve. "Nimue says you guys can, like, magically enhance rope or something?"
"Shackles would be wiser," says Mort. "I'll see what I can do."
"Excellent," says Ikram. "We'll do it tomorrow, then. Light will make things easier for us, and the Black Knight has proven he has no qualms attacking in broad daylight."
"How's the Gaylen's core stuff coming?" Toby asks.
Krel and Seamus exchange frustrated looks. That's another surprising thing – apparently, Seamus and Krel are officially friends now, and like Steve totally predicted, they get on like a house on fire. Steve has yet to decide if that's a good thing. Mort, on the other hand, has made it very clear that he thinks it's a bad thing. Steve has to admit he's tempted to agree after finding out that within ten minutes of being left alone, they'd snuck out and risked getting attacked by the Black Knight.
"We've found some more interesting data, but that's all," says Krel. "Nothing that will help us. I'm starting to think we won't be able to access its powers."
"Nothing with magic?" asks Toby.
Krel shakes his head and pulls up a simulation. A suspiciously Seamus-shaped wizard appears on screen and casts a spell, only for the entire simulated room to explode. Toby grimaces. Seamus grumbles something about being sick of getting blown up. Douxie hides a laugh and Archie, perched on the table next to him, bats him with a disapproving paw.
"Okay, that would be a big no," says Steve.
"Yeah," says Seamus. "We'll keep trying, but we're not exactly confident. I think Gaylen's core might just be a dead end."
Krel's expressions says he doesn't agree. Steve is very glad Mort won't let him near the thing alone. Mort shakes his head. "Do you think you'll be able to handle the Black Knight, or will you need us there? I have one or two more ideas before we give up entirely."
"I think we've got it," says Nimue. "We can phone if we need you."
Steve doesn't personally think they've got it, but then again, they've got Ikram on their side now, so he agrees, "We'll be good, Mort."
"Is your not-dad going to be helping with this?" asks Krel. Steve rolls his eyes at his friend's nickname for Coach and shakes his head. It's not that he didn't offer – because he had, multiple times – but Ikram had kindly vetoed the idea on the grounds that she wasn't sure he could do stealth if he tried.
"Just the four of us," says Toby. "But Ikram counts as like, four more, so it's basically eight of us."
"Just be sure to call if you need help," Mort says. "No one is getting hospitalised this time."
Steve winces and glances down at his cast – by now, most everyone he knows has signed it, except for Aja and Eli on Akiridion-5 and Jim and Claire in New Jersey. Krel's signed it in two different languages, and Toby added a little doodle next to his own signature. Seamus had originally written "Get well soon!" but that's since been crossed out and replaced with "Don't be stupid next time!"
"Yeah," he agrees. "Not this time."
Steve has a lot of issues with this plan, especially because he's bait, but even more especially because no reasonable person should be up at this hour. He gets why – less bystanders to possibly get hurt – but he still hates it as he crutches down the sidewalk towards Mort's. He hopes this part of the plan works, because if it doesn't, then they're kinda back to square one. Steve wanted to issue a formal request for a duel or something. Ikram shot that down.
Unfortunately – well, fortunately, actually, but still, ugh – he hears the sound of armoured footsteps behind him. He turns his head as far as he can to sort of see the Black Knight.
"Can you, like, walk in front of me?" he says. "It's really hard to turn on these things."
To his mild surprise, the Knight does circle in front of him, axe hefted onto his shoulder and helmet off. He was more intimidating with it, honestly, because he looks like a fairly average guy. His dark hair is even spiked up with gel, or it looks like that anyway.
"Bold of them to leave you alone, wizardling," the Knight notes. "And foolish. You couldn't take me before. Do you honestly believe you can take me now, injured?"
"Not really," Steve admits. "But here's the thing. I'm just bait."
The Knight's eyes widen. "What?"
On cue, three different darts fly from different, supposedly unoccupied spots. Two of the darts make contact, one in the Black Knight's neck and the other in his cheek, which has got to hurt. The third flies into a tree. If Steve had to guess, he'd say that one is Toby's. The Black Knight drops like a rock.
"Oh, yeah!" Steve cheers, leaning on one side so he can raise his other crutch into the air triumphantly. "Take that!"
The spells hiding the others shatter. Toby runs over to high-five Steve, laughing. "We did it! Woo!"
Ikram nudges the Knight with her foot. "He's out, alright."
"Is, uh, is that a bad thing?" Toby asks, gesturing to the two darts both loaded with enough sedative to knock out a full-grown man.
"Eh, he'll live," says Nimue. "It'll keep him out. Come on, let's get him back to base."
Toby lights up. "We're calling it base now? Sweet."
Nimue waves a hand and the limp Knight lifts into the air. Steve guesses that's another reason to do this early, although at this point he's not sure any Arcadians would bat an eyelash at an unconscious Knight floating along next to three other people in armour and a teen on crutches, especially if they see Toby and Steve involved.
Once they reach Mort's shop, Toby helps Nimue tie the Knight to a chair using the chains Mort had somehow found and enchanted for them the night before. Steve isn't even going to think about asking where those came from.
"I can't believe that actually worked," says Steve.
"We got lucky he didn't attack you first," says Ikram.
"What!? You thought he might!?"
"Eh, twenty-five percent chance." She makes a hand-wavey motion to support this. "I was expecting him to want to gloat first, and I was right. All's well that ends well."
"Uh, a little warning about that would have been nice," says Toby. "Alright, how do we wake him up?"
Nimue opens a drawer in the library desk. She pulls out a small vial, then unceremoniously dumps it in his face. "Alright, wake up. We have some questions for you."
The Black Knight splutters awake, dark green liquid slipping down his forehead like water. He stares around the room in disbelief before managing to regain his composure. "Impressive. You managed to capture me. Maybe you are worthy opponents, after all."
"That's right, we are," Steve shoots back.
"Green Knight," says the Knight, frowning at Ikram. "So you have defected, then."
"It isn't defecting if I was never on your side to begin with," says Ikram primly.
"Alright, Black Knight!" exclaims Toby, leaping forward with – is that a knife? Where did he get a knife? "Tell us who you're working for and we'll let you live!"
"Woah, woah, woah, Tobes, slow down, man," Steve says, using a crutch to pull him away. "What are you doing with a knife?"
"Sorry, sorry, got carried away," says Toby sheepishly. He then glares at the Knight and brandishes his kitchen knife threateningly. "But seriously. Tell us who you work for."
The Black Knight chuckles – like, dark supervillain chuckles that creep Steve out – then full-out laughs.
"You won't be getting anything from me," he says. "So do your worst."
They try everything they can think of – even a truth potion – but the Black Knight refuses to even open his mouth and apparently there's no non-dark magic potion to get him to say things if he doesn't want to. They spend a good hour trying to get his master's identity out of him to no avail.
"I say we torture him," says Nimue, who's very against dark magic but apparently not against torture.
"No," says Ikram.
"Come on," Nimue insists. "Just a little."
"No," Ikram says again.
Nimue huffs. "Fine. We'll save it for later."
"We're not torturing anyone," Ikram says.
Nimue mumbles something that sounds a lot like, "Spoilsport."
"If you won't tell us who you're working for, at least tell us why you're trying to kill us," Toby says. "Why us, specifically? We didn't do anything to you!"
"Morgana," Steve mutters to him.
"Steve and Krel didn't do anything to you!" Toby rephrases.
"My only job is to kill the wizardling and capture the alien for my master," says the Black Knight. "You are inconsequential, whelp."
"Wait, wait, wait," Steve butts in before Toby can get too insulted about being called inconsequential. "Kill me and kidnap Krel? That's your job? You don't care about Toby at all?"
"Not in the slightest," confirms the Black Knight. "I'd be happy to kill him too, of course."
Well. That puts a bit of a kink into Seamus's Mordred idea.
"What do you have against Steve?" Toby demands. "Yeah, he used to be a total buttsnack, but I guarantee he hasn't done anything to you and your master!"
The Black Knight's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, you don't know?"
"Don't know what?" Steve says. "How are we supposed to know if we know what you don't know if we know if we don't know what you don't know if we know?"
"That was a little hard to follow," says Toby. He brandishes his knife again. "What don't we know, BK?"
"My master has made it his goal to kill every last one of Arthur's heirs," says the Black Knight. "Did you truly not know? The wizardling is the last of the Pendragon line."
Steve frowns and glances at the others in the room. Ikram's eyes have widened. He shakes his head. "I'm – what?"
"So curious," says the Black Knight. "The last of Arthur's heirs is a wizard! Not even a very good one. I expect he would be ashamed."
"Shut up!" Toby snaps. "Steve's a great wizard, or he will be."
"Yeah!" Steve agrees, once he recovers from his shock. He's not so sure it's true. If he was a good wizard, he probably wouldn't have a broken leg right now. He's not entirely sure what this Arthur's heir thing means. Arthur, like – like King Arthur?
"Who is your master?" Ikram draws her sword and levels it at the Black Knight's neck. "Do not make me ask again."
He smirks at her. "I'll never tell."
Ikram snarls, then, just when Steve is wondering if she'll attack him, she sheathes her sword and turns away. "Knock him out and take him someplace else. He won't talk today."
Nimue nods, then inclines her head towards Toby. "If you'll do the honours, War-hammer."
"Oh, yeah," says Toby. In Steve's opinion, he's way too cheerful to be whacking someone in the head with a war-hammer. He watches as the Black Knight slumps unconscious. At least they got one answer, even if that answer has only raised more questions for Steve.
Nimue and Ikram drag him away together through the bookshelf door. Steve collapses into the nearest armchair and puts a hand to his head. Toby deactivates his war-hammer and eyes him worriedly.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I don't know, man," Steve admits. "I'm Arthur's heir – what does that even mean? Has my whole life been a lie? Do I need to start speaking in a British accent?"
"Probably not."
"Like this? How does this sound?" Steve tries the accent, but it's really awful so he gives a frustrated yell and stomps his good foot. "Stupid! It sounds stupid!"
"I mean, with a little work," reasons Toby. "But you're fine. This doesn't change anything. You're still Steve Palchuk, football star and used-to-be jerk turned good guy! I mean, I think the wizard thing is more reality-shaking than this."
"Yeah, I guess," says Steve glumly. He shakes his head to try to dismiss the lingering unease. "Okay, we know why he wants me dead, I guess. Sort of. But what does he want with Krel?"
Toby frowns. "I have no idea. Maybe it's because he's Akiridion? Maybe he needs Krel to do some cool space tech thing for him."
"I dunno, man," says Steve. "I get that Krel's smart, but there's a whole lot of other extra-terrestrials out there he could contact, right?"
"That's all I've got," admits Toby.
"Least you're in the clear," Steve says. "Seamus probably won't be happy. It all but disproves his Mordred theory."
"Unless, you know, he doesn't realise I helped defeat Morgana," Toby points out. He winces. "I wasn't even that much help, dude."
Steve scoffs and nudges his friend in the shoulder. "I bet Jim and Claire would say differently."
Toby smiles, but it's kind of sad. Steve gets it, especially now that Eli and Aja are – how far away did Krel say? Like fifty-thousand light years? The point is, they're not here, and Steve misses them, just like he knows Toby misses Jim and Claire in New Jersey.
Steve's ringtone cuts through the brief silence. He glances at the caller ID – Krel, which isn't entirely surprising – and swipes to answer. He puts it on speaker as he does, so Toby can join the conversation.
"I hope you have some good news, because we've gotten nowhere," Krel says.
"We've discovered five more methods of killing ourselves," Seamus adds. "If we were looking for how to blow up the entire city, we've also found about three ways of doing that."
"Well, good news is, we've caught the Black Knight," says Toby.
"That's fantastic news!" Krel exclaims.
"I sense a but," says Mort. "What's the bad news?"
"He's not really talking," admits Toby. "The most we got out of him is why he's after Steve, specifically."
"I'm the true king of England," Steve blurts. Toby rolls his eyes. "What? I am!"
"You are not," says Toby.
"I'm trying to have fun with this, okay!?"
Toby sighs. "What he means is that it turns out Steve here is the only remaining heir of King Arthur, and for some reason, the Knight's master wants all of Arthur's heirs dead."
"That's… unexpected," says Mort.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve exclaims.
"Nothing bad, certainly," Mort assures. "It comes as a surprise, but mostly because I would expect there to be more than one of Arthur's descendants still alive."
"Two, if I'm right," pipes in Seamus. Mort groans. Steve tries not to laugh. "What? It makes even more sense now! He's on some sort of – of blood quest! Mordred is Arthur's son, after all."
"I'm telling you it's not Mordred," says Mort.
"And I'm telling you it might be," Seamus retorts.
"That's all he would tell you?" Douxie asks. "That Steve's many-greats-granddad is King Arthur and that's why he's supposed to kill him?"
"Pretty much," says Toby.
"And that he's also after Krel, but not Toby," Steve adds.
"What? What does he want with me?" Krel asks, voice heavy with annoyance. "I never did anything to him."
"We don't know," says Toby.
"Good news is, he wants you alive," offers Steve. "How alive, we aren't sure, but hey, at least we don't have to worry about you dying. Aja would murder me."
"What do you mean 'how alive'? That doesn't make any sense!"
"There's a difference between alive and in one piece," says Seamus helpfully.
"Thank you, Seamus, you're very reassuring," says Krel dryly.
"I try."
"Was anyone hurt capturing the Black Knight?" Mort asks.
"Nope," says Steve. "It was actually really easy."
It's kind of embarrassing, really, how easy it was. It took, what? Five minutes to knock him out? And when Steve faced him – and he has to say that really loosely – he got the crap beaten out of him. Maybe they just got lucky. Or maybe Steve is just really, really bad at this. Steve convinces himself they got lucky.
"Good," says Mort, surprise lacing his tone. "And where is the Black Knight now?"
"Ikram and Nimue are locking him up somewhere," says Toby. "Ikram wouldn't let Nimue torture him, so we've stopped questioning him for the day."
"That's… probably for the best," says Mort.
Douxie audibly sighs. "Oh, Nim. I'm sorry about her, really."
"Toby threatened him with a knife," Steve says dryly. He hears Krel bark out a laugh and Seamus exclaim, "Domzalski what?" in disbelief. "She's not all that out there."
"Well, that's two Knights down," says Mort. "Hopefully the third isn't yet here. I think it's safe, but if you leave my shop, stay armed and stick together. No going out alone, understood?"
"Got it," says Toby.
"Yep," Steve mutters, fully aware that was aimed directly at him. "Crystal clear."
"Good. I think you should be safe to go home tonight, if you wish."
"Aw, yes!" Toby cheers. "No offence. I just haven't seen Nana or Aaarrrgghh! in like days. Next time we've got to at least bring Aaarrrgghh! over."
Mort mumbles something about needing more adults around, anyway, then says, "Alright. Take care and be safe. If you see anything suspicious, call me immediately. Otherwise, I'll probably see you boys tomorrow."
Probably is actually definitely, but Steve doesn't say anything about that as the others hang up. He knows he, at least, needs to really get on the magic stuff. They've taken a break the past few days just so Mort could help with the Gaylen's core issue, but now that's looking like a dead end, so it's back to magic training for Steve. Not that Steve minds all that much. Now that he can't fight for the next – what was it? Dr. L said at least six weeks, but Mort said to cut that time in half, so he's useless in a fight for the next three weeks. At least he can learn how to protect his friends with magic so the same thing doesn't happen to them. No one is getting hurt under his magical watch.
It's kind of nice – he'll never admit that out loud and will deny it if anyone asks – but it's kind of nice to be able to eat dinner just with his family for once. Mom works on some sort of side dish in the kitchen while Steve and Coach team up to grill hamburgers. He's only used the grill, like, twice before, but he's pretty sure he's got it, and just in case, he may or may not have a magical shield around the grill in case it blows up.
The burgers turn out a little burnt, but Coach says they're great so he counts it as a win. As they eat, he can practically see Mom trying to figure out a way to ask about the whole magic and Knight situation.
"So we captured the Black Knight this morning," he says as casually as he can manage. Mom perks up.
"Oh, that's great, honey," says Mom.
"There's probably more," Steve admits. "But they aren't here yet, so we have time."
Her lips purse. "How did you get yourself mixed up in all this… magic nonsense, anyway?"
"Well, I am a wizard," Steve offers. Her eyes narrow. That was not the right answer. "And before you say it's my friends, first of all, Seamus is also a wizard so you can't say I used to have normal friends, and second of all, the Knights would have still been after me. Apparently I'm descended from King Arthur or – or something. Did you know about that?"
"Woah, really?" Coach exclaims.
"No, I didn't know about – King Arthur is a myth," says Mom.
Steve winces. "See, the thing is, apparently he's not."
"Well, it's not from my side." Mom kind of violently squirts ketchup onto her burger and harrumphs. "Figures."
Steve… isn't sure how to respond to this, so he doesn't, instead taking a bite of his burger and avoiding Mom's gaze. Yeah, figures. Even after leaving, his biological father still finds ways to screw up his life. It's great.
"According to his teacher, Steve's doing great with this magic stuff," Coach boasts. "They're learning – eh… spells and stuff!"
"Mort's mostly teaching me protection spells," Steve says. Mom nods, so she must like the sound of that. "I obviously can't fight with a broken leg, but I can keep my friends safe. Uh. And myself. It's pretty cool. Mostly shields. I could show you after dinner, if you want."
Definitely the right thing to say. She lights up. "I'd love that."
"So, uh… have you guys been alright?" Steve asks. "Like, no one's targeted you or anything?"
"Nope," says Coach. "We've been perfectly fine."
"Your wizard friend, Mr. Penn, he came by to install some magic security or something," says Mom.
"Oh." Huh, Steve didn't know that. "Oh, right, yep. Sounds like Mort. That's great!"
"I don't see why you can't stay here," Mom grumbles. "We have the – whatever he called it."
"It's more the getting to and from thing," admits Steve. "I mean, I bet we could do the rotating thing again, but we, uh, learned the hard way that it's not safe to go alone."
Mom's expression sours, so he knows she knows what he's talking about. Steve absently eats a few fries and avoids her frown. Coach coughs awkwardly.
"So," he says, "School's starting soon! You excited?"
"Wait, when is school starting?"
"Uh, a bit over a week?" guesses Coach. "Barring any, you know, cataclysmic events. So you might have a longer summer than expected."
Steve is torn between hoping so – because he doesn't want to go to school – and hoping not – because he doesn't want an apocalypse. It must show in his expression, because Coach bursts out laughing and even Mom chuckles.
"Man, I'd hate to still be dealing with the Knights at school," he says. "I don't know how Jim balanced the Trollhunting stuff and his grades."
Coach snorts. "Take it from me. He didn't."
That's – fair. Didn't Jim miss like fifty days of school? That's almost impressive, actually.
"You wouldn't have to worry," Coach says. "I'd make sure you kids involved in this whole mess would have an easier time."
Steve offers him a wide smile. "Gee, thanks, Coach. Means a lot."
Coach gives him a mega-watt grin in response, then returns his attention to his burger. Mom glances fondly between them but luckily doesn't start gushing – again – about how glad she is they're getting along. The last thing Steve wants right now is mushiness.
"So," says Mom lightly, clearly changing the subject, "tell me more about your magic lessons."
Later that night, Steve pulls out an old photograph he'd buried deep in his desk drawer after his biological dad left. It's from a time when the guy wasn't such a massive buttsnack, or at least a time before Steve knew the guy was a massive buttsnack. Toddler Steve is sitting on his shoulders, grinning like it's Christmas, and Mom is smiling in a much more subdued way. Clyde – because Steve refuses to call him "Dad" – is laughing. He doesn't look like an abusive jerk in the photograph, but, then, Steve supposes not many people look like abusive jerks at first glance.
Steve hates him. Steve hates him so much. Clyde made it very clear that Steve was never, ever good enough. Even when he was star of the football team, passing all his classes, most popular guy in school, he was never good enough. When he messed up, Clyde hit him. When Clyde was drunk, he hit him – but then, Clyde was drunk all the time so, really, was that even a qualifier? There's almost no redeeming quality Steve can think of, so why does he feel so… weird about Clyde being dead?
Part of Steve almost wants to celebrate. Ding, dong, the witch is dead, and all that. And he had to be dead – the Black Knight said Steve was the last of Arthur's heirs. So the others are all dead. Which includes Clyde. Which is a good thing, right? The man can't hurt anyone ever again. But then, he feels kind of bad that he isn't sad about Clyde's death. Shouldn't there be – something? Clyde was his dad for fifteen years. A terrible dad, but still. That means something, doesn't it?
There's a knock on his door. He panics and shoves the picture back in his drawer before Coach walks in, hesitant.
"Can, I – can I come in?" he asks.
"Uh, yeah," says Steve. "Yeah, sure thing, come on in."
Coach tentatively sits next to him on his bed. "You seemed kind of distracted at dinner."
"Mom sent you to talk to me?"
"A little bit, yeah."
Steve laughs weakly. "Right. Well, I'm fine. Totally fine."
Coach raises an eyebrow. "You don't look fine."
Steve rests his arms on his thighs and leans forward. He glances to the drawer, then back to Coach, still watching him worriedly. Like a real dad should.
"Clyde's dead," he blurts. Coach's brow furrows. "My – biological father – but you knew that. But, uh… turns out he's dead."
"You, uh, you wanna talk about it?" he prompts.
"I'm not sad," Steve admits. He swallows. "I'm not sad. Shouldn't I be sad?"
Coach purses his lips like he's trying to put together the words, then rests a hand on Steve's shoulders. "I don't know everything, but I know what that man did to you and your mother wasn't okay. And if you're not sad that he's dead, well… I think that's perfectly understandable. Okay? Your feelings are completely valid. You don't need to force yourself to be sad for a man who hurt you."
"I hate him," Steve mutters. "He's gone for good and I still hate him so much. I don't know what I ever did to him. I don't know why he – he–"
Coach pulls him into a hug. He doesn't know why he's getting all teary all of a sudden.
"You're an outstanding young man, Steve," Coach mumbles. "Any man would be lucky to have you as a son. I'm lucky to have you as a son."
The dam breaks. Steve grasps the back of Coach's – of his dad's shirt, because it's about time he stops pretending he doesn't see Coach as a dad, and lets himself cry. There's no one here to judge him. Coach – Dad rubs his back comfortingly. It's nice. To have a dad. Steve doesn't know why Clyde was such a jerk, and he never will, but at least he has a real dad now.
"I don't want to be – be some sort of chosen one," he says. "And that's what this feels a lot like. And it sucks."
"You're not alone, bud," says Dad. "You've got your friends. You've got your mother and I. None of us are gonna let you face any of this alone."
"And what if one of you – gets hurt? Or – or worse or something?"
Dad pulls away with a sigh. Steve awkwardly sniffs and wipes his cheeks. "I can't promise you no one will get hurt. But if someone does – it won't be your fault. Okay?"
Steve takes in a shaky breath. He isn't so sure about that, but he nods anyway. "Okay."
"You kids shouldn't be dealing with this," says Dad. "You should be enjoying your last week of summer like normal teenagers. If I could take this away from you, I would."
"I know you would," Steve says. He blinks back more tears, determined to be done with that for the night, and offers Dad a small smile. "For the record… I'm really lucky to have you, too… Dad."
Coach's eyes well up with tears as he grins and grabs Steve in another, more boisterous hug. "Aw, come 'ere, you!"
"Dad!" Steve yelps.
"What? Can't a man hug his favourite son?"
"I'm your only son."
"Even more favouriter!"
"What does that even mean?"
"I don't know!"
Steve laughs, finally feeling some of the heaviness lift off his shoulders. He's glad he's not alone. He wouldn't be able to do this alone. But with his friends and family – with Toby and Krel, Mort and Douxie and Seamus, Mom and Dad – he thinks he might just be able to help save the world.