Yup, still got a soft spot for the big guy.

Enjoy!

#4: Norman

Norman's eyes were closed as he reclined on the flat slab of rock that was his bed. The limestone he had used in Mongolia had been worn smooth, but this chunk of sandstone Max's mother had procured for him still had pleasantly rough and uneven bits. Norman had already decided that when it got too soft for his liking he would take a hammer to it just to keep it jagged the way he preferred.

Norman also preferred the open sky, rain or snow notwithstanding, but that was an argument he had not won; Max's mother had insisted on him at least constructing a lean-to with the sides covered. It was better than the plastic shed she had almost purchased for him, making some comment about at least that would look normal in the garden. Though, in the end, neither Norman nor Max's mother cared about what neighbors thought of the hand-hewn structure and the mountainous man who lived in it.

What they did care about was the boy asleep up in his room.

Or nearly asleep. Norman's instincts told him it would be a few more minutes before the Mighty One finally dropped into proper slumber. He did not have to be close enough to see or hear the Cap-Bearer to know his rhythms as well as Norman knew Virgil's. He knew when the boy had gone upstairs and the look in his eyes as he'd said goodnight. That was enough.

Norman decided to give it ten more minutes before he moved.

It was a habit he had picked up in the immediate aftermath of Toyama – watching over the Mighty One in his sleep as often as possible. At first, in the weeks following those events, Norman had stood outside the boy's room until he was asleep and then had kept watch inside the room itself, inches from the bed, never resting himself for fear the boy would wake alone from the terrors that filled his mind. During the days with Doctor Venkman, Norman had sat with the boy whenever he slept – and would have whether Peter gave permission or not.

Since then, he had scaled back his vigils to every other night rather than every night. Norman guessed that Max was still aware of his presence, but the Cap-Bearer had not forbidden him and that was as good as permission.

Though, if the Mighty One had ordered him to desist, Norman would have refused – perhaps the first order he might have ever dared countermand from his charge.

Norman would follow – and had followed – the Cap-Bearer into hell. He would obey any request without question, would accept any command in battle no matter how strange. He was the blade and shield of the Mighty One and he would never defy him, never betray him, never abandon him.

But then, that was why he might refuse to refrain from watching over the boy in his sleep. For the one order Mighty Max could not give and expect him to follow was to abandon him in the face of peril or harm.

Norman had been too far away from the Cap-Bearer through too much heartache; he would never let it happen again.

Even if the Mighty One ordered him to desert him, ordered him to stand down, he would not. He would stay by his boy's side and defend him to the last.

If Norman could have his way, he would not move from Mighty Max's side day or night for the rest of their lives. But that, Virgil had told him repeatedly, was not healthy.

Norman snorted. What was not healthy was Mighty Max at risk.

But he did understand Virgil's concerns, and he also wished his boy not to let up his own vigilance and find himself vulnerable because he assumed the protection of his Guardian. Norman also understood that his 'hovering,' as Max's mother called it, could be stifling for the boy who had fought so long for his normal life and his freedom from the responsibilities of the Cap-Bearer.

However, Toyama had changed them all, and in the Mighty One it had changed his perspective. He no longer tried to hold onto his childhood; rather, he now forged ahead into the world of a Hero.

But even Heroes of the highest caliber need their Guardians.

Norman rose from his bed and moved on silent feet for the house.

It was the work of a moment for him to slip inside, locking the door behind himself; Virgil left it unlocked any night Norman was to come in to resume his protection – and even when Norman broke his every-other-night pattern, Virgil always anticipated him. The Lemurian also left out a large glass of water for Norman to drink all in one gulp on his way through the kitchen to the upstairs. It was a kindness, an acknowledgement, and a sign of gratitude all in one, and Norman made sure to accept it and drink it all to show Virgil that he understood.

Norman was not alone in wanting to watch over their boy day and night, but only he could do so mostly undetected, and so Virgil left it to him.

Norman ascended the stairs and eased open the thin bedroom door that guarded such a precious burden inside. Norman already knew every floorboard in the house and how to move across them without a sound, and the carpet barely hissed under his weight as he eased himself into position beside the foot of the bed. From here he could see the door and the window.

And the Mighty One.

The faint scent of sulfur remained in the air from the battle the day before at the volcano. Norman peered at the Cap-Bearer's face closely, but saw no sign of nightmares spurred by the incident.

But that was one of so many similar outings with similar fuel for fear and doubt, and Norman would not let any one of them take hold. Not over his boy, not within his pure heart and soul.

And yet, it was the one battle Norman could not be certain he would win. In a fight, against any danger, he knew he would break his body to pieces to protect his boy. But the one contest he could not win was the one within his boy's mind.

So he stood there, night after night. If the terrors came, he would battle them when they woke the boy. If anything else came, it would meet his sword before it got within range of the Mighty One.

Norman wished he could reach inside the boy's dreams to defend him there, but he could only content himself with knowing that Mighty Max was the greatest Hero ever to live. If Norman could not be there himself, he trusted that his boy would still succeed.

And either way, his Guardian stood ready to protect him, now and forever.