Nerve Impulse
Police Piccadilly: Nerve Impulse
Iggy wanders aimlessly down the halls of Bowser's castle. He's not necessarily lost—memorizing the layout of half the castle was child's play—but the whole thing? That'd take more time and experience. Still, he enjoys his little adventure alone even with the slight possibility of getting lost. He hopes the unfamiliar scenery will quell his growing boredom. After what Kamek calls "school", there isn't much to do with Iggy's time until dinner. So, he has a newfound habit to go exploring the castle.
Sometimes, Lemmy will join him, but those are rare occasions lately since Lemmy prefers to take naps after class or nag Ludwig. Speaking of his eldest brother, Ludwig never liked the idea of Iggy's expeditions. Ludwig still has a tendency to nag Iggy about the potential of getting lost or overstaying their welcome, but Ludwig isn't the boss of him and Bowser stated the castle was their home now too. Doesn't Iggy have the right to walk anywhere in his new home without getting into trouble?
Iggy passes by a group of Goombas on patrol, promptly ignoring their inquisitive stares tracking his every move. He can't blame them for their obvious confusion. After all, Iggy believes he's somewhere deep in the barracks. It's not exactly a place meant for a child so his presence is stirring up the soldiers. Then again, that could be said about the entire castle.
The medieval interior isn't really welcoming or child friendly. Plus, the unhealthy amount of Bowser emblems stuck on anything that can fit his face can scare any young child. Seriously, why is his face everywhere? Iggy wonders how egotistical one can be before their big head explodes.
Iggy doubts he'll ever get used to the drab interior design and he's been here for almost three months now. Every hallway Iggy travels down, the walls enclosed around him are always made of stone, intricate sconces align the paths with orange flames dancing inside them behind blown glass candle holders.
Ludwig believes magic is what keeps them all lit and bright. Iggy is inclined to agree with his eldest brother. Of course, being surrounded by magic—something foreign and new to them—is an indescribable experience.
Iggy can't place an exact name to what he feels; but sometimes there's a slight tug inside him and sometimes his fingers inexplicably twitch when reading about the history of magic during lectures. He had asked Lemmy about these strange feelings one night—hoping he wasn't just losing himself to Ludwig's silly anxieties. To Iggy's relief, Lemmy confided to him about how he also felt "off" during certain parts of studies too and that Roy and Wendy had complained about the exact thing a few days before.
When Ludwig worked up the courage to inquiry Kamek about their unusual feelings during class; the mage seemed—not only surprised—but intrigued by their responses. Lessons for the day were forgotten after that since the rest of the lecture became almost an interrogation. Kamek constantly drilled the children with question after question until he appeared satisfied by their answers and dismissed them without another word.
Kamek still hasn't provided them with any explanation and that had been days ago. Iggy can tell by the way Ludwig squirms in his chair during meals or lessons that he wants to say something to the mage. Ludwig, forever the teacher's pet, doesn't want to appear rude or impatient. He'd rather suffer in silence. Iggy admits that seeing his eldest brother in such a frenzy is somewhat humorous for him to watch. Poor Ludwig has always been too uptight for his own good.
Iggy continues his little trek around the barracks, stopping occasionally to scoff at the horrid décor plastered in Bowser emblems. Iggy highly doubts the King transverses down these halls to admire his own face. They're probably only there as a constant reminder to his soldiers. As if they could suddenly forget the guy they're working for.
At the thought of Bowser, Iggy frowns deeply, mind suddenly brewing with enmity. Traveling around the more "undesirable" parts of the castle is also how Iggy prevents running into Bowser. So far, he's done a decent job at it; only catching the Koopa King's eyes at dinner time or mumbling a meaningless "hello" before school lessons when Kamek won't stop glaring at Iggy's disobedience until he relents and addresses the king.
The steady sound of the Goombas' footsteps echoing behind Iggy unexpectedly speed up and panicked whispers bounce off the walls as they all but sprint away. Iggy can't help but wonder why they're making such a hasty retreat when he's stopped by the very thing he was avoiding.
"Hey, Iggy."
Iggy whips his head around to find Bowser's gigantic form steadily approaching him, a collection of papers in his hands. Surprisingly enough, the big oaf looks like he's in the middle of doing real work. Iggy supposes the Koopa King has to get his butt off the golden throne sometimes. So much for successfully evading him. Why would Bowser be down here amongst the disposables anyways?
Iggy's face morphs from minor displeasure to downright disgust in an instance. He ensures that his glare is threatening and his mouth is curved into a feral snarl. He wants to appear as unpleasant as possible so Bowser will get the obvious hint and leave him alone. It seems to work, only for a moment, because Bowser hesitates briefly before easily brushing off Iggy's frigid attitude.
The king continues towards him with a stupid grin on his face. Iggy supposes it's Bowser attempting to soften Iggy's malice. Though, it has the opposite response, and Iggy turns his head forward to avoid having to look at Bowser any longer. Since Bowser's strides are three times larger than Iggy's, he catches up to him too quickly then falls into a steady pace beside him.
Bowser is met with silence. No greeting, no acknowledgement, just the patter of their steps. Even the sound of Bowser's large footsteps annoy Iggy and he grinds down on his teeth.
In the beginning, Bowser vowed to never step across the boundaries the children had set. If they needed space; he happily provided it to them without asking questions.
"How were lessons today?" Bowser asks casually, glancing down at the papers in his hands like he's actually doing something of importance.
So why was Bowser so adamant on pestering Iggy when he clearly wants nothing to do with the big idiot?
"Did Kamek talk your ears off?" Bowser laughs loudly at his own joke.
"Shut up."
Iggy refuses to respond, biting down on his bottom lip, staring loyally at the movement of his feet and tracing the cracks between the cobblestone floors. If Bowser is looking for idle chatter and friendly interaction he won't find it from him.
"Why?"
That one worded inquiry floats around in Iggy's brain, left unanswered. It's almost enough for Iggy to stop in his tracks so he can try to forcefully yank the answer out of his clustered thoughts. Which would only invite Bowser to ask more pointless questions Iggy isn't in the mood to deflect.
Iggy continues to move forward, counting his steps as a distraction to keep himself from further contemplating why his mind is at war with his actions. He gets to twenty-five when Bowser opens his mouth again.
"You alright, Iggy?"
How observant of Bowser to notice. Iggy applauds the Koopa's fruitless efforts of tearing down the wall between them, but he isn't going to budge. He won't be easily persuaded like Lemmy or Morton.
Iggy ponders his next move here; he can remain silent due to sheer stubbornness or tell the King off for not respecting his boundaries. He doesn't have a chance to choose the best course of action. Thankfully, another sound interrupts his thought process.
"Lord Bowser," someone calls out from down the hall.
Both Iggy and Bowser turn simultaneously towards the direction of the new voice. It's a red-shelled Koopa Troopa looking a tad frantic and out of breath like he'd run around the entire castle to find them.
The rookie soldier urgently waddles his way over to them, his footsteps a humorous shuffle on the stone flooring. This Koopa's red shoes are far too big for his tinier than average frame. He hasn't grown into them yet because he's a bit on the younger side, but he doesn't seem to notice or care as he stumbles clumsy towards his King. He stops in front of them, body puffed out and eyes full of blind adoration for Bowser. Iggy finds the starry-eyed Koopa pathetic.
"Kamek requests your presence in the throne room," the Koopa Troopa says with a firm salute.
The Koopa's eyes stray briefly to Iggy, face neutral and emotionless. None of Bowser's minions know what to think of them just yet. After all, it's not everyday a horde of seven children are just welcomed into the castle and allowed to stay with no strings attached. Even now, Iggy is utterly confused by Bowser's decision. There's no real logic behind it. It's one of the many reasons Iggy doesn't trust him. Can someone really display so much kindness without having ulterior motives?
Iggy doubts it. Though, it doesn't fully explain Iggy's hostility towards Bowser either. Truthfully, it doesn't really matter, does it?
Bowser releases a massive sigh, grumbling under his breath about numerous things Iggy can't catch quickly enough to decode.
"I'll see you at dinner, Iggy," Bowser grunts, waving halfheartedly to Iggy who rolls his eyes. Instantly, Bowser's personal mission to annoy Iggy is discarded and immediately replaced by "kingly responsibilities".
As Bowser walks away with the Koopa Troopa stumbling behind him, Iggy's gaze unconsciously strays back to Bowser. He feels a brief ping of loneliness in his heart watching the large figure grow smaller until Bowser rounds a corner, disappearing out of sight. It's such a tiny, fleeting feeling. Iggy easily tramples on that needy emotion before it takes root and scoffs silently at his sudden display of vulnerability.
Still, he can't deny it happened.
He's just a Koopa full of contradictions, isn't he?
Iggy continues down the hallway now with purpose in his step. He hopes to seek out Lemmy. Maybe the presence of his closest sibling can help quell this uneasiness stirring inside him.
...
Another long day after lessons and Iggy finds himself joining the others in the 'playroom.' It's a shoddy playroom, thrown together half-hazardously in a matter of weeks because Bowser's personal study wasn't a sufficient choice for children to play in. Their playroom obviously used to be a storage room for random décor and forgotten furniture. Shelves too high for any of them to reach still have various trinkets placed upon them, a couch covered in a stained white sheet rests against the wall, and the stench of mildew makes Iggy wrinkle his nose.
Bowser said the room was a temporary placeholder until his minions finished the actual playroom meant for his son. Apparently, the diaper-wearing brat's playroom will be big enough for all eight of them to play in when it's finished. Until then, they're stuck here in this miserable substitution. Iggy sits on the cool stone flooring with Larry in his lap because the plush carpet covered in dust is far too close to the thing he's attempting to avoid. He checks on Larry, only to find the toddler's frightened stare locked intensely with the other side of the room.
Iggy's eyes follow Larry's startled gaze. Roy and Ludwig are arguing intensely in the background, causing an unnecessary scene and scaring the youngest child. Iggy can't begin to guess how the squabble began, but with how frequent Ludwig and Roy clash, he wonders how the two haven't run out of things to bicker about. Lemmy is situated between his brothers; forever the peacekeeper.
He's using his tiny body as a physical shield, gently resting a claw on Roy's chest to keep him from pouncing on Ludwig if it were to go too far. It's laughable how easily Roy could toss Lemmy across the room if he wanted to, but Roy won't. He's never intentionally harmed Lemmy in any way and Iggy doubts today would be the day Roy abandons his unspoken 'bro code' to get to Ludwig.
Besides, it's nothing serious, just a pointless argument Iggy has learned to tune out. Unlike little Larry, who restlessly shifts in Iggy's lap, whimpering quietly when one of his eldest brother's voices rises an octane too high to ignore. Larry looks to Iggy for comfort, big blue eyes glistening from poorly contained tears. Iggy sighs dramatically, hoping both of his idiotic big brothers can hear how agitated he is growing.
Unsurprisingly, neither of them seem to hear his irritation over their shouting match. Iggy, instead, attempts to ease his baby brother's fear. He playfully taps Larry on his snout and makes a funny face to distract him. The gesture causes the toddler to momentarily forget his distress and smile. The moment of relief lasts only seconds before Roy is hollering to the heavens again. Larry's smile drops and his bottom lip begins to tremble. Iggy is back to square one.
If they keep yelling, Bowser or Kamek are going to stop it eventually if Lemmy doesn't resolve it first. Iggy continues to try to calm Larry down, to no avail. It seems Roy and Ludwig's argument is about to reach its climax when the shouting grows louder, the comebacks grow more sinister and personal.
Iggy studies which sibling will be throwing the curve ball this time. Roy; with his coarse language or Ludwig; with his harsh but strategically thought out comments? Roy sucks in a deep breath of air and takes a step forward, but doesn't push Lemmy out of the way.
"You aren't Dad, Ludwig," Roy growls furiously, fist raised. "So get off my back!"
Iggy tenses immediately.
"What did Roy say?"
"Roy!" Ludwig stresses his name desperately, hands held up in surrender. His knowing eyes promptly flicker to Iggy, but he already knows it's too late.
Iggy remains statuesque at the mention of their father. It's as simple as flicking a switch. Iggy's no longer in the playroom, he's alone and surrounded by nothingness. His emotions immediately shift to a much darker place in the crevices of his mind. The lines spoken out of Roy's frustration repeat in Iggy's head like a mocking bully pushing him down again and again as he struggles to get back up. He can't take it anymore!
No, Ludwig isn't their dad. Iggy knows this because their father is dead, buried beneath a house in the forest. Their father is gone and he won't ever be coming back. His mother is dead too; sharing the same fate. She's not coming back either.
Why do his siblings pretend everything is alright when it's not. They're all lost without them. Nothing is right or just about this.
Why did this have to happen to them? What did Iggy do wrong? Is this his fault?
Wendy says something, Iggy can't hear her correctly, but her voice is shaky. The others quickly disperse, argument forgotten. His three eldest brothers all begin speaking directly to Iggy, but it's a cacophony of distance sounds he doesn't bother to translate. He feels Larry being lifted out of his arms, using no effort to stop whoever stole him away from him. The deafening ringing in his head won't stop. It's too overwhelming, he wants to run.
Adrenaline rushes into his system, flooding his senses. It provides him with an unnecessary amount of energy he doesn't want or need. His heartbeat palpitates violently behind it's cage of ribs, pounding against its bars like it hopes to escape.
"Stop. Stop it."
His mind refuses to heed his distressing attempts to silence it. Someone says his name and that simple thing is what sets him off. He lashes out, attacking the first blurred figure he can reach. Like a predator striking at its kill, he tackles at his unsuspecting prey. He releases all his pent up frustrations, clawing at his victim, animalistic screeches tear their way up his throat. Whoever his victim is, they're not fighting back.
They're on the defensive, feebly shoving Iggy's hands away from them. Iggy effortlessly overpowers them and continues his onslaught.
His mind is racing, reminding him of all he's lost in the past few months. He'll never see his parents again and that only makes his angrier, more violent. All he wants is revenge for something he can't physically attack.
Somewhere, in the hazy fog of his mind, a voice calls out to him. It's a desperate sound, sad and just as broken as he feels. They're begging for Iggy to stop. Why do they sound so familiar?
"Please, Iggy!"
"Lemmy."
Iggy's blood runs cold, body immediately shutting down on him. Those pleading cries belong to one of his big brothers. He's hurting him! Iggy snaps back to the present, the taunting in his head is finally dormant, energy suddenly spent. Iggy is roughly shoved off of Lemmy. He doesn't try to stop himself from harshly landing on the floor. Part of him knows he deserves to be discarded like trash and he lays there motionless.
Minutes of self-reflecting pass before Iggy sits upright to find Roy looming over him, arms crossed and glare daring him to try that again. Larry is crying hysterically, huddled in the corner furthest from Iggy with Wendy and Morton. Wendy's bottom lip trembles slightly and Morton's eyes are squeezed shut. Morton's entire body is quaking in fear, his hands cupped over his earholes to block out the noise. They're terrified.
Iggy realizes they're terrified of him.
Lemmy, with the help of Ludwig, sits upright and Iggy gets a view at the results of his rampage. The sight of the bloody scratches and red splotches on Lemmy's face twists Iggy's stomach. He feels sick.
"I'm sorry, Iggy," Lemmy tries to smile, but winces and rubs a particularly darkening spot on his cheek. "We didn't mean to hurt you."
Why is he apologizing to him? What is he talking about?
Iggy is given little time to react because the door of the room slams open, startling everyone. Bowser stands there in the doorway furious, gaze bouncing wildly around the room from one child to the next. He remains briefly silent, mouth in a taut line as he tries to piece together the puzzle he's walked into.
"What happened?!" He asks loudly, clearly exasperated. Larry bolts to Bowser, clutching the King's leg, and continues to wildly wail.
Using Larry's outburst as a distraction, Iggy takes off. He doesn't wait for his siblings to answer, too ashamed to hear them point fingers at him. Iggy slips past a confused Bowser—who is trying to calm down Larry in his arms—and out the door in a flash of neon-colored hair.
...
Iggy isn't sure how he ended up in a supply closet surrounded by mop buckets and the faint scent of citrus cleaning supplies. Honestly, he had nowhere else to go and blindly found the most secured room he could fit in.
Iggy doesn't cry. He's cried enough tears in the past few months to fill a swimming pool and he hates how exhausted he feels afterwards. Instead, he glares at the door, scrunched between various products, hugging his knees, and harshly berating himself for his inexcusable behavior. It's safer for everyone if he remained in here for the rest of his pathetic life.
Out of all the siblings he has, it had to be Lemmy he brutally mauled. The one child out of the bunch that everyone confides to; including Iggy himself.
"This is your fault."
"Shut up," Iggy growls out, hoping to silence the taunting in his head. With a shaky breath, he realizes the voice is right; this is all his fault. What he doesn't understand is why his first instinct is to physically lash out. Why does his mind work against him?
This isn't the first time he's attacked one of his siblings—any reminder of his parents can set him off—but usually Roy stops him before he can cause any real damage. Afterwards, the guilt practically eats Iggy alive and he's silent for days until the air clears or until Lemmy forcefully pulls the words from his brother's mouth.
It's obvious his siblings are afraid of his unpredictability. The eldest siblings especially. Roy, Ludwig, and Lemmy are always on edge to keep everyone safe from Iggy's wrath when they shouldn't have to be. They're constantly treading cautiously on broken glass around him. They avoid any conversations about their parents near him and they keep Iggy distracted when things grow too dull. Even with their carefulness, Iggy can't keep himself together.
He feels like a monster.
Iggy pushes his glasses upward to furiously wipe any moisture threatening to spill down his cheeks. He already told himself he wasn't going to cry and he's going to ensure that doesn't happen. He doesn't deserve to cry when he isn't the one covered in scratches and bruises.
The door unexpectedly swings open, Iggy jumps and is left to stare up at Bowser. He supposes someone would find him eventually; he's a bit surprised it's Bowser and not Ludwig or Kamek.
The King of Koopas meets Iggy's stunned gaze and the panic Iggy spots on Bowser's face disappears the moment he sees Iggy unharmed. It's replaced by something more kind, something that stirs the emotions in Iggy's chest because it reminds him of someone else.
"There you are," Bowser sounds relieved. "I was looking around the entire castle for you, kid."
"Well, you found me. Good for you, but I'm not leaving," Iggy replies sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. The hostility vanishes when he drops the act and mumbles solemnly, "I can't hurt anyone if I sit in here forever."
Bowser's mouth twists into a frown, silence settles between them. Iggy can practically hear the various thoughts running around inside Bowser's head as he decides on how to respond. He suspects the king to either deem him a lost cause or physically yank him out of there kicking and screaming to go and apologize.
Out of all the possibilities Iggy can think of, he doesn't expect Bowser's mouth to curve upwards into a small smile. Iggy is thrown off by Bowser's reaction, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Mind if I join you then?"
Iggy says nothing. Why should he care what Bowser wants to do? Bowser takes Iggy's lack of a response as confirmation and closes the door behind him. The supply closet barely fits the giant mass of the king, but he manages to squeeze himself inside somehow.
Bowser's attempts to sit beside Iggy are amusing. He knocks over a broom causing a loud ruckus when the handle of the broom tips over a bucket full of cleaning supplies. Miscellaneous bottles of various products dump onto the floor, though all of them are safely sealed closed. Iggy, despite his grievances, snorts out a brief laugh.
He watches Bowser continue to struggle with levity sparkling in his eyes until the king makes enough room for himself. Humility flushes Bowser's muzzle red and he awkwardly clears his throat when he manages to sit down. His left arm accidentally knocks into Iggy's and that brief contact causes Iggy to growl under his breath, annoyed. Bowser turns to Iggy, none the wiser to the child's newfound irritation.
"Want to tell me why you attacked your brother?" Bowser asks, casually leaning back against the wall.
Iggy visibly flinches at the question. The remorse douses all the resentment he feels towards Bowser. All the negativity brewing inside him is directed towards himself.
What can Iggy say? Why does he react the way he does? Iggy briefly closes his eyes, contemplating his response to such a difficult question. He's brought back to a particularly old memory which nags at him whenever he does anything remotely wrong. It's a constant reminder that the gears inside his head rotate a bit differently than children his age.
The newest classmate in Iggy's class, a Koopa child with a bright blue shell, approaches Iggy at recess. The Koopa's smile is inviting and his gaze is full of childish curiosity. He doesn't appear the least bit weary of Iggy when he stops in front of him. The kid's name during his class introduction is lost to Iggy, but Iggy raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the kid's motives. The child confidently sticks out a friendly hand, offering Iggy a big grin.
"I like your hair! My name is Kooper," the kid, Kooper, says.
Iggy simply stares at the hand reaching out to him, not biting the bait since this could be a part of some elaborate prank planned by his peers. The other children in his class take notice, the sounds of their playing ceases in the background. All eyes are on them, Iggy can feel the intensity of their gazes slither across his scales. They watch the exchange between the ignorant new kid and the class misfit like they expect a volcano to erupt any moment now. Iggy quickly realizes they seem just as bewildered as he does. For once, it appears someone is actually trying to converse with him.
It's at this time a Koopa girl with twin tails secured in red ribbons runs up to Kooper. Alice—Iggy knows her name quite well since she is usually the ring leader during his class confrontations—regards Iggy with what he can only describe as disgust before wiping the venomous look off her face when she faces Kooper.
Her tone of voice is all candy and sugar when she asks Kooper if he'd like to join in on a game of tag. Iggy finds her facade laughable, but doesn't call her out on it because it's a huge waste of his time. He'll let her keep pretending while she manipulates the weak-minded children of his class. He's smarter than them.
Kooper is hesitant to go at first, briefly glancing back at Iggy, "Is he going to play too?"
For a moment a dark look crosses Alice's face only to disappear as quickly as it came. She leans closer to Kooper with the same sickly sweet smile from before.
"He can't play with us; he's broken," she whispers to Kooper, purposely enunciating her words so Iggy can hear her clearly. He sneers at her like a feral animal. His female classmate grins proudly in response completely unafraid or unaffected by Iggy's threatening features.
Alice walks away satisfied, Kooper's hand in hers as she pulls him along. Iggy can't help but feel the sharp sting of her words and blinks away the pathetic tears. He watches them join the other anxious children. They're all relieved smiles and obnoxious giggles as Kooper easily assimilates into their group. Iggy knows Kooper won't turn back around and try to make friends with him again. Anyone who integrates into the inner circle of the class never does.
He's once again alone because he's broken.
"Because I'm broken'," Iggy repeats those scornful words in his head back to Bowser.
They leave a bitter taste in his mouth because those are the same words his classmates would sing-song. Iggy would often retaliate, parroting back those harsh words said to him with more menace. He'd find himself in trouble instead after causing a fellow classmate to cry.
His mother always looked so disappointed with him and his father would scold him relentlessly for his unacceptable behavior when Iggy came home with a teacher's note explaining his appalling behavior towards his classmates.
Eventually, Iggy stopped fighting back if only to appease his parents. He had once overheard a discussion between them in hushed whispers about the possibility of homeschooling him. This meant his parents would have to sacrifice more time for him when there were six other children to care for. Lemmy sometimes required more attention than the other children when he got sick and Larry was still learning how to walk and talk.
Iggy refused to allow that unneeded attention to be directed to someone as useless as him. He wasn't the selfish type. So, not wanting to be a burden, Iggy pretended everything at school was fine when they asked and conjured up silly stories about friends he didn't have. Though, the onslaught of insults never stopped.
Iggy used the one thing the other children lacked; his brains.
Snide comments too advanced for the children to understand is how he got even with them. Although, since the children in his class lacked his high intelligence, it mostly fell on deaf ears. Iggy would be the only one laughing, but at least he felt some satisfaction for being so witty. His classmates simply watched his strange display with visible confusion before they shrugged their shoulders and dismissed him as a "weirdo". Iggy was branded the class misfit; the label clinging to him forever.
Iggy often snuck away from school when evading the others grew too mentally tiresome. He'd retreat to the safety of his house to tinker with his machines. His machines never talked back, they never insulted him. He found solace amongst machinery instead of other people. He could go without talking for days in school because his naive classmates and brainless teacher never cared for what he had to say.
After all, Iggy was the broken child discarded by his peers like a broken toy.
"I don't think you're broken, Iggy," Bowser assures Iggy with a pat on the shoulder. Iggy blinks rapidly, suddenly thrown back into the present.
"You're just different," Bowser adds on and Iggy can hear the grin in his voice.
Iggy peers up at Bowser, struck dumb.
The familiarity of the statement leaves Iggy speechless. He's suddenly back in his shared room with Morton, a mountain of toys and unfinished machines sprawled out on the floor. Neither of them were the cleanest siblings, but their room was livable enough for them. His mother sits beside him on his tiny bed, his comforter an exact match to the polka-dot one on Lemmy's bed down the hall.
He refuses to speak of school, but he knows she can tell something isn't right because he's holed up in his room again playing the silent game with himself. She prods gently for answers and it's no surprise he budges.
Iggy blames his anger on another failed invention instead of his teasing classmates to throw-off his mother's suspicion. His mother wipes his tears of frustration away for him as she listens to him vent. When he's finished, he glances meekly up at her, afraid she'll somehow figure out he's lying and scold him, only to find her smile is as reassuring as he remembers and she does no such thing.
Then those stupid words tumble out of his mouth because he's just so furious with himself.
"I'm broken, Mom."
"No you're not. You're just a little different, Iggy," she'd reply firmly. Then she'd tap his snout lightly with her index finger and make a silly face. The action never fails to make him giggle which makes her chuckle softly too. The sound of her laughter is all the comfort he needs and the sincerity of her words. Immediately, Iggy knows everything will be okay with her by his side.
"But aren't we all?" She'd chime in, gesturing to herself and him. "Especially your father."
Iggy's favorite part is when she'd dive into one of his dad's many misadventures. It reminded him that everyone had strange quirks; especially the man who seemed so put together. When his dad was younger, he would find himself in unfortunate situations wherever he went despite how neurotic he was. His mother claimed his dad was the unluckiest luckiest klutz in the Darklands. Which meant most of his dad's life stories were often humorous mishaps that always miraculously worked out in the end despite the huge bumps in the road.
The stories his mother told would always put a grin on Iggy's face. If Iggy wasn't full on cackling when the story was over, his mother would deem her mission a failure and resort to Plan B.
She would start to tickle him relentlessly to fight away Iggy's sadness. Iggy, unable to contain his mirth any longer, would burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles which usually drew Lemmy's attention from down the hall and he'd join in on the tickle fight until they all were greedily gasping for air, tears streaming down their faces. His mother would turn to him, the kiss on his forehead a fleeting warmth, breathlessly telling him she loved him despite the flaws he hated about himself.
Iggy misses his Mom and Dad so much it hurts. The constant ache in his chest, craving the affection of two souls no longer here, drives him mad.
"I wish you were still here. I don't know what to do anymore."
A sorrowful sob escapes past the fragile barrier he's built around his heart. Of course it shatters so easily; he's just surprised by how long it held up. Through the barrage of tears he sees Bowser's arms spread as wide as the cramped space allows, waiting.
All his dislike towards Bowser is tossed aside as Iggy tackles straight into Bowser's open embrace without hesitating. It's warm, inviting, he doesn't want to let go. He pretends the strong arms wrapped around him belong to his father and the hand running absentmindedly through his hair is his mother. If he can just keep his eyes closed forever, the illusion would last.
"I miss them," Iggy manages to say between sobs. "Every day."
"I know," Bowser whispers back. "I know, kid."
Bowser allows Iggy to cry in his arms. He doesn't try to force Iggy to open up, he doesn't offer meaningless words of encouragement; he's just there to hold him steady. Part of Iggy is against relying on such an unreliable stranger, but the more vocal side of him doesn't care.
He's grown tired of pretending he's okay with everything going on around him.
Iggy pulls himself away from Bowser when the tears run dry, a tad ashamed of exposing his weaknesses to someone he finds he can't trust. Bowser doesn't attempt to stop him from plopping back onto the floor, kicking away a few of the bottles of cleaning supplies in the process. Iggy sniffs away the snot threatening to run down his snout and wipes away the wet trails on his cheeks.
"You alright, Iggy?" Bowser questions, almost awkwardly. A few more minutes of silence slip by while Iggy begins to collect himself.
It occurs to Iggy that the question is an exact repeat to the question asked a few days ago. Unlike last time, Iggy doesn't dismiss Bowser.
"No," Iggy replies bluntly. "I'm not."
The sorrow he feels about his parents is replaced by a sudden wave of animosity. His pain isn't an excuse for what he's done to his remaining family. They've all lost their parents and none of them retaliate with uncontrollable outbursts.
What's wrong with him?
"I'm not okay because I don't know why I do the things I do," Iggy admits angrily. He grinds his teeth, trying to calm himself down because his uncontrollable behavior got him here in the first place. Iggy rubs at his tired eyes behind his glasses to stop the moisture from building up there. Then, he feebly attempts to explain himself further to Bowser.
"But I didn't mean to attack Lemmy. He's my best friend. I just get so frustrated at myself because I can't help but wonder if I did anything wrong to cause all this. I know it's stupid, but—"
"Iggy," Bowser interrupts Iggy's self-deprived rant. "Take a deep breath."
Iggy does as he's told. Suddenly, he feels a bit lighter than he felt before.
"None of this is your fault," Bowser states it like it's a stone hard fact. Iggy bites down on his lip to keep from verbally disagreeing with him.
"You shouldn't blame yourself over something out of your control. But you can't just attack someone when you're pissed off," Bowser sighs heavily, running a hand through his red mane. "Trust me, I would know."
Iggy hates to admit it, but Bowser is right. He's right about everything. Maybe Iggy needs to stop tearing himself down about this. The self-hatred isn't helping anyone. It's obvious what the first step to take is in mending the situation he's caused.
"I should probably apologize to Lemmy," Iggy says.
"Yeah," Bowser nods his head in agreement. "But don't worry too much, Lemmy will forgive you."
"I know he will which makes it worse," Iggy groans frustratingly, holding his head in his hands. "He's never done anything to hurt me, but I keep hurting him. All of them."
"They all love you, kid. Regardless of what you might think or do. You're all in this together, you know that."
Iggy presses his mouth into a grim line, unable to comment. A heated debate sparks internally inside his brain as he weighs his options.
He critically studies Bowser's face out of the corner of his eyes and sees an exhausted Koopa. He's patiently listening to a child he barely speaks to. There's no judgment towards Iggy nor any anger directed at him. Bowser is clearly trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, but not because of Iggy, but because he's sitting inside such a confined space with little room to move. And he's still here despite all of that.
Bowser never wavered when Iggy needed someone. His arms were wide and waiting for him. Almost expectedly, like he knew what Iggy needed all along without any prompt. Maybe, just maybe, Bowser may have some answers too.
Iggy turns to Bowser, "How do I stop myself from hurting someone again? What do you do when it all becomes too much?"
Iggy waits eagerly for a reply. Sadly, Bowser's sudden frown isn't very reassuring that Iggy will like the response.
"To be honest," Bowser pauses. "I haven't entirely figured that out myself. Kamek suggested trying yoga."
Bowser snorts and even Iggy finds himself slightly amused at the thought.
"There are plenty of times when I lost my cool," Bowser concedes. "Even adults are still learning how to cope."
Iggy deflates at Bowser's confession.
"But we'll figure it out together," Bowser adds. "I promise."
Bowser turns to Iggy then, pinky finger extended towards him. Iggy is absolutely baffled at what Bowser is attempting to do here. Bowser barks out a laugh in response to Iggy's bewildered but hilarious expression.
"Ludwig made the same face when I promised him I'd take care of you guys," Bowser manages to say between gaffs of laughter. "You two really are brothers!"
"A pinky promise," Iggy says dryly. "Really?"
Bowser eagerly nods, "It's a sacred ritual between two individuals that should never be broken."
Iggy scoffs lightheartedly, looking Bowser straight in the eyes, completely unconvinced, "Uh-huh."
Iggy searches for any signs of a joke he isn't getting, but finds nothing but sincerity in Bowser's very honest gaze. Iggy hooks his pinky firmly with Bowser's, still waiting for a punchline.
It never comes.
This Koopa is serious.
Something inside Iggy flutters when Bowser releases his pinky and Iggy can't stop the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
...
Iggy and Bowser head to the check on Lemmy after Bowser's firm suggestion.
Every step closer Iggy takes to their destination, his nervousness grows stronger. He knows Lemmy will forgive him; he knows the others will eventually too. But what if they don't? This isn't the first time he's attacked anyone, but this may be the time when his siblings finally tell him they've had enough of him.
They make it to the infirmary door too soon and Iggy cannot stop anxiously wringing his hands together, intensely studying the way his fingers curl. He admits he's afraid of what his siblings are going to say. Bowser gently pats Iggy on the shell. For once, the unexpected contact doesn't annoy Iggy and he's thankful for the reassuring gesture. Bowser reaches over him to open the door because they'd be here all night if Iggy is expected to do it himself.
They find the group of children surrounding a cot where Lemmy sits, kicking his legs, covered head to toe in brightly colored band-aids. Somewhere in the corner, Kamek sits at a desk, but Iggy's too drawn to the sight of Lemmy to take notice. He's absolutely horrified to see his brother in such an awful state.
The blood in his veins chills and his stomach flip flops. All the dark thoughts he pushed aside begin to resurface. As if sensing Iggy's inner turmoil, Bowser places his hands on Iggy's shoulder, physically and mentally grounding him in place. Iggy can hear Bowser clench his teeth behind him and release a growl from somewhere deep in his throat.
"I thought you said you'd fix him! Did you forget how?" Bowser snaps. Kamek gets up from behind the desk, casually adjusting his glasses and appears completely unaffected by Bowser's sudden display of rage. The mage gestures towards the children.
"I can assure you both, I did," Kamek smiles fondly. "It seems the younger children have taken a liking to the band-aids we bought for them and decided to play doctor."
Iggy immediately relaxes at this. Happy to know there's no scratches or bruises hidden underneath all those band-aids. He swallows hard, Bowser's outburst directed all the attention towards them. Specifically, Iggy; all his siblings' eyes are on him. Several expressions cross their faces; betrayal, fear, and uneasiness.
Only little Larry makes a gleeful noise at the sight of his brother's return, fear from before forgotten. The toddler prepares to launch forward to greet Iggy only for Ludwig to hold him in place. His siblings wait quietly for him to do something.
Iggy steps forward after a gentle push of encouragement from Bowser. Iggy notices Roy tense beside Lemmy as he begins approaching the cot. Roy must expect another unwarranted attack and he's prepared to stop Iggy before he gets to anyone this time. Iggy feels a sting in his chest at this, but he doesn't blame Roy for being cautious either. He stops in the middle of the room, uncertain if Roy or Ludwig will even let him near Lemmy.
Lemmy seems to notice Roy's intimidation and Ludwig's hesitation are what's keeping Iggy away. So Lemmy hops off the cot with an annoyed huff. He lands with ease, closing the distance between them with small strides. Lemmy is all smiles as he stands in front of Iggy. A glittery pink band-aid sits on his snout and his hands are clasped behind his back. He patiently waits for Iggy to say anything. Iggy doesn't believe he deserves the kindness Lemmy is giving him and he has to look down at his tightly clasped fingers to find the courage to speak.
"I'm sorry, Lemmy," Iggy's voice quivers, hands shaking.
Iggy squeaks out a noise of surprise when Lemmy pulls him into a tight hug. Lemmy is so small, he's practically hanging from Iggy's neck to reach him.
"It's gonna be okay, Iggy," Lemmy says, softly. "We're all gonna be okay."
"I didn't m-mean to—"
"I know," Lemmy pulls away to give Iggy a reassuring smile. Iggy blinks, a bit taken back by the random realization that crosses his mind.
Iggy hates to admit this—and he'd never admit it out loud—but Ludwig is right about one thing; Lemmy does look like their mom the most. The smile Lemmy is gifting Iggy with right now is almost an exact replica to the one their mom often wore to comfort Iggy during his stormy days. Seeing Lemmy's smile makes Iggy briefly yearn for her teasing laughs and toothy grins. As if reading Iggy's mind, Lemmy squeezes Iggy a little tighter.
"We all miss them, Iggy," Lemmy whispers gently, voice muffled in Iggy's neck. "But we'll be okay."
Lemmy's optimism is astounding. Even after being constantly beaten down again and again by the world; Lemmy believes that the future still holds happiness for them down the road. Iggy, personally, is uncertain about where this will eventually lead, but it's hard to disagree with someone like Lemmy.
The heartfelt moment is interrupted when Iggy feels something stick onto his leg. He let's go of Lemmy in surprise. He's amused to find Larry placing a neon green band-aid on a particularly old scar from the fire.
"Iggy has an owchie?" Larry asks, big eyes staring up at his brother. Iggy notices his pudgy fingers are covered in poorly wrapped band-aids and a polka dot band-aid is even stuck in his hair.
Lemmy giggles giddily before lifting the small toddler up in his arms.
"Good job, Larry!" Lemmy playfully pokes Larry's chubby cheek which causes the toddler to smile. "I think Iggy has another owchie on his nose!"
Larry bounces in Lemmy's arms enthusiastically, band-aid at the ready. Lemmy assists the toddler with the placement. The extra height allows Larry to stick the band-aid on Iggy's snout right below his nostrils like a mustache. Iggy snorts out a laugh, cackling at Larry's self-satisfied smile.
Roy begins heading towards them. Iggy's grin disappears as quickly as it came. Just moments ago, Roy had been prepared to protect his siblings from Iggy at all costs. Now he's approaching him like nothing ever happened.
"He's got another one—" Roy gently pokes Iggy on the forehead, "right here, Doctor Larry."
Larry nods firmly and does as he is told. He stretches out his hand to place another band-aid on Iggy's face. The toddler nearly knocks off Iggy's glasses in the process which both elder siblings laugh at. Roy is the one who readjusts them for Iggy and Iggy gives him a thankful smile for the assist.
"Morton help too!"
Morton barrels towards them, his own box of band-aids in his hand. Morton hops from one foot to another, excited to help his big brothers in any way he can.
"Where does Iggy hurt?" Morton asks.
Ludwig makes his approach after Morton's question with Wendy trailing behind him holding her own box of band-aids. Ludwig reaches over Morton to poke Iggy square in the chest, right where Iggy's heart beats.
"It hurts right there, Doctor Morton," Ludwig replies teasingly.
Morton gently places a purple band-aid over Iggy's heart, then puffs his chest out proudly at a job well done. Iggy looks at Ludwig to find his eldest brother smiling sympathetically. There's sorrow in his knowing gaze. The longer Iggy holds Ludwig's attention, the more pain Iggy spots between the cracks. He immediately understands his eldest brother's unspoken gesture. The purposeful placement of the band-aid reminds Iggy that all their hearts are a bit broken. It will take time for them to heal their wounds. But they still have each other; they don't have to do it alone.
Maybe the number of people to lean on in Iggy's life is expanding.
Iggy glances over at Bowser to find him watching the scene with affection and amusement in his red eyes. Iggy's eyes snap over to Kamek shaking his head disapprovingly despite the humored grin on his face.
Maybe Bowser is someone Iggy can grow to count on. Maybe there is hope for the big oaf after all. Iggy's musings are interrupted by his little sister's outburst.
"I want to help too," Wendy whines, gripping her box of glittery band-aids tightly and stomping her foot.
Iggy soon finds himself sitting on the tiled floor while the three younger children begin placing a plethora of different colored band-aids on him. The eldest siblings watch Iggy's transformation into a band-aid mummy with quiet chuckles and 'helpful' suggestions.
As Wendy neatly places a yellow glitter band-aid on Iggy's cheek while Larry and Morton cover his legs; Iggy can't help but grin.
Despite his flaws, they're still here with him.
Iggy looks up from Morton and Larry's handiwork to find Bowser staring right back at him, grinning.
Eventually, Iggy believes he will figure out how to move on. Perhaps with a little help from a big oaf.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
This was supposed to be short and that's not how I roll, I guess. Oops.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone realizes all the titles are songs I listen to on repeat until the story is done and I hate the song afterwards.