Two weeks after the wedding, Bowser woke up alive on his sixty-second hatch-day. And like he had for the past two weeks, the first thing he did was reach into his shell and pull on his compression stockings.
Those things were custom made to match his scales and the holes at the ends gave his toe claws somewhere to go. Somebody needed to look close to tell he wore them. Neil had them custom-made for him after the wedding blew his feet up to three times their size.
Even better, his kids were waiting for him downstairs.
The celebration was a quiet affair— the cake, thoughtful gifts and lots of laughter and chit chat about the wedding.
Junior and Cherry kept making bedroom eyes at each other all through the gift opening and cake. They chased each other upstairs after disposing of their paper plates.
Bowser snuck off and popped painkillers like candy because he hadn't fully recovered from the wedding yet.
He watched the rest of his kids laugh and chatter with each other. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't see their faces in person again after today.
Ludwig picked up on the grief in his eyes. Of course he would. He didn't comment, but he silently expressed his understanding of what this gathering truly meant.
Bowser enveloped him in a hug before he got a chance to sign about it. He rubbed his face against his soft blue hair and held him tight. His first child, his oldest.
The embrace gave Ludwig a chance to collect himself without everyone seeing him crack.
"What're you two crying about over here?" Wendy walked up to them, cocked her fist on one hip and rapped her painted pink claws on the lemonade in her hand.
"The wedding," Ludwig said aloud, sniffing. "Dad got emotional, and of course that made me do it, too."
Excellent cover. Bowser chuckled under his breath.
"Oh, wasn't it gorgeous?" She batted her eyes and sipped her drink. "Jack is something else! It's about damn time I found a man who isn't afraid to put his hands on me. Is Black like that?"
"Like what?" Ludwig faced her and raised a brow.
"Aggressive."
He smiled smugly. "Yes. Black kisses me a particular way when he's in that mood."
"With his tongue like he's trying to devour you?"
"Mmhmm. Or, he bites. If he goes for my neck, it's over."
Wendy giggled, covering her mouth and signing with her free hand. "Wow, Jack does the neck thing, too! They're so much alike!"
She eyed Bowser and raised her drink, speaking aloud, "It finally happened. I got a guy who can finish the job he starts."
Bowser laughed uproariously, hugging her tight against him. "Are you happy?"
"Gods, yes." She jiggled the ice in her glass.
Ludwig flashed a smile tinged in sadness and walked off to get more lemonade.
Bowser kissed Wendy's forehead and stroked her silky long hair. His only daughter, his precious little girl who whirled through life like a town-flattening tornado.
"I'm happy that you're happy, sweetie."
"You're the best, daddy." Wendy squeezed him tight. She tittered and twirled away to join Ludwig by the lemonade bowl. They resumed talking about their lovers in Koopa Sign.
Bowser eased himself onto the couch next to Lemmy, who was transfixed by his new glitter ball. The particles were holographic, so they sparkled every imaginable color.
"New stim toy?"
Lemmy looked up and beamed, tail wagging wildly. "It's a prototype for my Ballpit store. Scott suggested the holographic glitter. I really like it."
"Can I see?"
"Okay!" Lemmy handed it to him. "Hold it really close to your eyeballs."
Bowser lifted the glittery ball towards his eyes like Lemmy did until all he saw was the shifting sparkles. It reminded him of the otherworldly staircase he kept seeing in his dreams.
"What's it supposed to do?"
"It's soothing." Lemmy jiggled the ball until the blurry glitter swirled. "But it might not work if you're not autistic."
"Ahh, that's what's different." Bowser grinned, handing him the ball back. "Hey, Lemmy, are you happy?"
"I think so." Lemmy rocked back and forth, bouncing the ball between his feet.
"Scott treating you right?"
"He's a dream, dad." He grinned so huge his eyes squinted shut. "He's hot, he's funny, he doesn't shove his tongue down my throat and he makes sure I can eat what he cooks. He takes care of me kinda like you used to. I'm gonna move into a place with him. It's right across the street from Iggy and Larry, so I'm gonna see them every day still, but…it's a place just for us!"
Bowser smiled softly at the animated rambling. Lemmy gushed about things that made him happy, so that expressed his joy louder than his actual words ever could.
He kissed the side of Lemmy's head, right on his stripes.
Lemmy turned around and kissed him back on the end of his nose.
"Love you so much, dad." He resumed staring into his glitter ball like it held the secrets of the universe.
Those words hit home. Bowser nodded, blinking so nobody saw the tears in his eyes. "Love you, too, little guy."
"…my first open heart surgery was a transplant, so I got to hold one in my hand while it beat since we did a beating heart transfer. It was pretty scary. Here's the shot of me taking the new heart out of the cooler. They had it hooked up to a pacemaker that kept it beating."
Larry swiped up on his phone to reveal the video of the surgical procedure. Someone's glistening red heart pulsated in his gloved hand as he lowered it into the open chest cavity. The clip ended there.
Iggy stuffed a forkful of fudge cake into his mouth. "What's it feel like to hold a beating heart?"
Larry pressed his fist against Iggy's palm and squeezed it tight a few times. "Like that, but stronger, because you feel the whole myocardium pulling in and relaxing. At the same time, it's kind of squishy."
"How many heart surgeries have you done since?" Bowser asked as he walked into the dining room.
"Uh," Larry stared upward, mouthing numbers. "Probably a little over a hundred. I love it. Cardiologist life. My last one was an aortic valve replacement on a Crash heart like yours, except that patient had a bicuspid aortic valve that was failing. That's exceedingly rare."
He grinned, finishing off his cake slice. "I accidentally discovered you can find Crash in embryos, with egg ultrasounds. It turns out the pouch for Crash hearts is a little longer than a normal heart, so we can spot it before a heart is fully formed. Isn't that wild? If you start hearing about the Larry Test, it's me! I discovered it."
Bowser laid his hand over Larry's and squeezed it. "Damn! I'm proud of you, Larry! That's incredible. You're such a smart guy. Just…damn."
Larry locked eyes with him, expression softening. "You're the reason, dad. I can't fix your heart, but I can help people avoid going through what you did."
Just then, Larry's phone lit up with a call. He walked away into the kitchen to take it, came back and started gathering up his paper plate, fork and napkins.
"Crash heart patient coming in with heart attack symptoms. Not my aorta guy, somebody else. I have to get to the hospital."
Bowser jumped up and hugged him. "You go fix those hearts, kid. Love you."
Larry pressed his cheek to his shoulder since his hands were full. "I love you a lot, dad. I always think about you when I handle Crash hearts. Always."
He wiggled free and took his mess into the kitchen before booking it out to the warp zone.
Morton washed breakfast dishes in the kitchen while Roy chatted to him about a recent soccer match between the Sandstorms and the Derechos.
Iggy rested his head on the dining room table, sighing.
"You okay, Iggster?" Bowser sat with him.
"Had a TC day before yesterday," Iggy grumbled. "First one in almost eleven years. I'm sore."
Lemmy piped up, "He was in the shower and his seizure alarm went off. I pulled him out after he stopped shaking, and Larry and I took care of him."
That explained the bruises on Iggy's elbows and feet.
Bowser sighed to himself. Iggy's first tonic clonic seizure happened in the bathtub when he was barely a year old. Seeing that scared him just as much as the febrile seizures Ludwig had during the double ear infection that damaged his hearing.
It took months of taking Iggy to doctors before they caught a seizure during an EEG and discovered his temporal lobe epilepsy. Anticonvulsant medications controlled it fairly well as he grew up and did better once he finished growing.
But those seizures were scary to watch, and they never got easier to witness with time.
"I'll feel better in a couple days." Iggy picked his head up and managed his usual wild smile. "Don't worry about me, dad, I'm a pro at this epilepsy shit."
Bowser chuckled, leaning over to drape an arm over his son's shoulders. He kissed the side of his head next to his bright green plume of hair.
"Daaaaaad, you're being weirdly mushy!"
"It's my hatch-day, I can be as mushy as I want."
Iggy stuck his tongue out at him. "Fine, I love you too. I knew you were gonna say that next."
"You caught me." Bowser smiled, patting the back of his neck. "Let me know if I can get you anything."
"I just need to rest." Iggy adjusted his glasses. "But, um, thanks."
Bowser patted his head again and strolled back into the living room to drape himself across the couch. He laid on his stomach with his puffy, sore feet towards the far wall, where they wouldn't be the first thing everybody saw walking by. The compression stockings did their job of keeping the pain bearable, but they didn't eliminate it.
Heavy footsteps plodded through the hall. Morton's familiar, guttural voice croaked across the quiet.
"Hey, dad. You okay?"
"Mmhmm."
"Tired from old age, huh?"
"Rub it in, why don't ya?" Bowser grumbled without any real venom. "I'm old and things hurt more."
"Ain't that the truth."
Morton parked himself on the floor by the head of the couch where they could see each other eye to eye. Enormous Morton, who was once a tiny baby with a giant head, bulging eyes and the angriest face ever seen. His features got wider and teeth grew in his mouth, but his bulging eyes and resting angry face never went away.
"Serrated is touring again next month, so I'm gonna be busy pretty soon."
Morton rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I got a full heart workup, y'know, in case there was anything I needed to fix before I hit the road. Everything looks good. No regurg in any of my valves or anything. What about you? What does your heart look like lately?"
A question Bowser dreaded enough to open a pit in his stomach. He closed his eyes, swallowed and couldn't answer it the way he wanted to. Not without causing Morton to cancel his gigs and leave Serrated in the lurch.
"Eh, it's working, isn't that the important part?"
Fortunately, Morton caught on to the humor and not what wasn't said. He grinned, sharp teeth on full display. "Well, it would be shitty if it didn't!"
They snickered together. Bowser sat up because laying flat caused his chest to feel too tight.
Roy scooted past Morton.
"Ah, hey you two." Bowser grabbed them both by the back of the neck and pretended to smash their heads together.
Roy and Morton played along, throwing their heads backwards as if they bounced off each other. They used to butt heads full force as babies, and it was a wonder they never knocked each other out.
"Nice one, dad." Roy draped a dish towel over his shoulder. "Having a fun hatch-day?"
"I'm having the best one of my life right now."
Bowser wrapped an arm around each of his biggest sons.
"Look at you two, you're wider than me. Heh!"
"Been working out a couple times a week." Roy flexed his bicep. He had a weightlifter's build, not a bodybuilder, so his arms didn't bulge like Jack or Black. "Morton hits the gym every day."
"All I do is run the treadmill and lift some weights." Morton shrugged.
Roy slapped his bicep. "Yeah, and look what it did to you. You're a brick shithouse."
"I build muscle easily. Besides, exercising is good for Crash hearts. Mine isn't hypertrophic, so I can jack myself off all I want."
Morton's eyes widened. "Wait…that came out wrong. Ah, damn it."
He facepalmed as Roy and Bowser cracked up.
Bowser squeezed them both against him in the tightest headlock of a hug he could muster.
"I love you two goobers," he beamed proudly.
"Ack!" Roy propped his sunglasses up atop his head. "Uh, thanks, dad. Love you a lot, too."
Morton closed one eye. "Dad still hugs the hardest."
"It's my hatch-day, and I'm an old fart. I get to be weird about it if I want to." Bowser kissed each of their foreheads and rubbed the tops of their heads. "Are you boys happy?"
Roy laughed, leaning against Bowser's side. "Yeah! Gorgeous wife, nice house, no problems in my life right now. I'm gonna start night school classes again in a couple months, looking forward to that."
"Oh, yeah? What are you going to study?"
"Culinary." Roy smirked, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes. "I thought I was a decent cook, but I saw Black doing amazing things with the Cheep-Cheep kabobs at Junior's wedding. He gave me some tips on how to cook 'em so they come out juicy instead of dry."
Morton wrinkled his forehead. "Didn't he go to culinary school before he switched to medicine?"
"Yes," Ludwig answered as he passed the door. He leaned over behind Iggy and squeezed his shoulders to massage them.
"Ack, ow! Ooh-oof!" Iggy grunted through his teeth. "Not so hard!"
"Sorry." Ludwig softened his touch.
Lemmy followed Ludwig and hopped onto a chair that didn't get pushed in.
"Do it, Roy." Morton nudged Roy's shoulder. "We can be your test subjects."
"Gee, thanks."
Bowser smiled at their playful banter. He tugged on Morton, jiggling him so his head wobbled back and forth. "How about you, big mouth? Happy?"
Morton beamed, "Yeah. I'm with an amazing woman, we're seeing the world together. It's great. Life is great!"
Bowser squeezed them both again. "If you're happy, I'm happy."
Roy's phone blipped a rising trill. He checked the text, saw Pom-Pom with her tail sticking up and quickly hid the screen.
"Whoa!" Bowser guffawed, "She sends you dirty pictures?"
"Go home and get laid!" Morton smacked the top of Roy's head.
Roy's face flushed redder than it already was. He smiled, sunglasses shimmering. "I shouldn't keep a lady waiting, heh. I'll be seeing you horny bastards."
"BWAHAHA!" Bowser let go of Roy and watched him check his phone as he headed out.
"Damn." Morton looked at his phone. "And I thought sending Sienna dirty voicemails was kinky shit. Geez."
"Well, call her up and leave her something dirty so you get lucky." Bowser fluffed up the few hairs Morton had on his head.
"I know exactly how to rile her up." Morton put his phone away. "I'll do it after I'm outside. I don't like everybody else hearing me do that. So I guess I better hit the trail, eh?"
Bowser embraced him again, laying his cheek on his massive shoulder. "I know you always try your best, Morton. I'm proud of you, cuz you're my kid."
"Ah, dad." Morton patted his shell. "Thanks. Happy hatch-day."
They bumped foreheads, locked eyes, smiled and separated. Morton left, and Bowser sat down again to rest his achy, puffy feet.
Over in the dining room, Iggy scream-laughed at something.
"Dad, you helped Luigi do a keg-stand?"
"You bet! That old fart didn't know how you're supposed to do it, so I showed him how to get his ankles up in the air. Then I did one myself to prove my ancient ass still can. Who took that video?"
"Larry, and he sent it to me straight after!" Wendy guffawed. She swiped with her thumb. "Here's where daddy did one."
"Impressive elevation." Ludwig whistled.
Wendy giggled. "Yeah, and I got something really funny."
"Is it me crowdsurfing and falling on Mario?" Lemmy asked.
"Yeah! Hang on, I have to find it."
"You fell on Mario?" Iggy asked.
Lemmy snickered, creaking his chair. "Jack tossed me backwards because he thought Black was behind him, but it was Mario. I ended up sitting on him."
"You guys have to see this. Here." Faint music from Serrated filtered from Wendy's phone. "Wait for it, wait for it…"
The four of them exploded in mirth. They didn't know their laughter was the most beautiful music to Bowser's ears.
Bowser dozed off listening to that sound, waking later at Ludwig's gentle touch on his forearm.
"Hm?" He snorted into a sitting position. "Just meditating!"
"You snored."
"That's part of the mantra."
Ludwig smiled in a mixture of joy and sorrow. "Wendy, Iggy and Lemmy just left. I'm about to head home, too."
"Okay, ju—"
His voice faltered when Ludwig bent over and hugged him tight.
"I can stay," Ludwig murmured, deaf accent thick from him trying not to cry. "It's no hardship to me if—"
"No." Bowser signed the word as he spoke it. He leaned back enough to make room for signing. "Don't sit around waiting for me to die. Go live your life. Chase your future. Be happy."
Somehow, Ludwig found the resolve to pull back the tears welling in his eyes. He didn't know how strong he was.
Then he surged forward again in another hug.
"Thank you for everything. My life, Koopa Sign, Black, my wedding, my music, all of it. You gave it to me. Thank you."
"You're welcome, son, for everything. My music man." Bowser stroked his hair and rested his chin on his shoulder.
"Is that you breathing?" Ludwig asked.
"Yes, it is."
"I'll never forget that sound." He pressed their cheeks together, voice cracking, "Goodbye, dad."
There was a resolute finality to those words.
"Bye, son," Bowser said slowly, enunciating both syllables like he used to when Ludwig started speech therapy.
Ludwig let go of the hug first. Bowser held on a second longer before lowering his arms. He watched Ludwig put on his bravest face and leave.
Lambent sunlight broke through the volcanic clouds like a spotlight as he stepped out the main entrance. His bright future lit the way forward. He hesitated outside, but did not look back.
Bowser's phone buzzed. Black was at work, so he texted him a video wishing him a happy hatch-day. He sent one back thanking him for it and telling him to look after Ludwig.
His feet shot a dull, bruise-like ache up his legs. He popped another painkiller. Leftover Percocet from his surgeries helped a lot.
Upstairs, Cherry and Junior giggled amongst themselves. They eventually made their way down, both with wet hair that gave away where they were all morning.
"Aw, man!" Junior laughed. "We go upstairs for a shower and everybody bails!"
Cherry leaned on his arm and looked up at him like he put the stars in the sky. "Maybe we took too long."
"Being in love warps time." Bowser smirked knowingly. "Want some more cake?"
.o
Major changes took place over the next month.
Roads between the Mushroom Kingdom and the Darklands were planned out.
Joint ownership was given to a goldmine discovered on the border of both kingdoms.
Doctors ran a gigantic seminar where Toads and Koopas educated each other on their peoples' anatomy and medicine. Larry talked about Crash and used Bowser's medical history as a case study. He anonymized the data extensively, so only people who knew him knew who it was about.
Cherry and Junior minted a new copper coin to commemorate the kingdom mergers. They had Mario's head on one side and Bowser's on the other.
Bowser scoped out the border landscape where Cherry and Junior's new castle was going to be built. It sat atop a hill overlooking the valley between both lands and allowed a clear view of all horizons.
He landed the Koopa Clown Car, picked up a shovel handed to him by a Koopa Troopa and dug out the first bit of earth.
"In this soil, I pledge the future."
And he spat in brown dirt he uncovered. Koopas always spat on a new construction site, it brought good luck.
Sunlight burned down, the beginning of summer.
Bowser set the shovel aside and climbed back into the Koopa Clown Car. He wouldn't see this castle finished, but he saw it start. Having kids worked the same way— he set them on their paths, loved them with his whole being and watched them blossom, knowing he wasn't going to be there for the end of their journeys.
Life was supposed to be like that. To spring into being, take it all in and sputter out again, leaving the world a little better than before.
It took Bowser his whole lifetime to figure that out.
At his word, the airships arrived and people flooded the hilltop. Koopa Troopas, Hammer Brothers, Toads and yoshis, all working together without malice.
Bowser watched this new era unfold and smiled.
Peach would be proud.
.o
Cherry noticed Bowser growing withdrawn as time passed. Reading paperwork turned him grouchy. His visits to Peach's grave lasted longer. Flights of stairs left him breathless, and he was stubbornly resistant to talking about his health.
One warm Sunday afternoon, a rough game of tennis with Junior caused his feet to swell up three times their size. He could hide this from Junior, who was good at not seeing what he didn't want to see.
The next day, he ran out of breath walking downstairs, necessitating his oxygen. She brought it when she asked, but she wasn't fooled when he told her he was fine.
Cherry followed Bowser into the throne room, scolding him the whole way.
"You're pushing yourself too hard."
Bowser eased himself onto his huge throne and dialed up the oxygen concentrator. "Old age. You get tired faster when you're old. Sucks, doesn't it?"
"It's more than that. You're dying. Did you tell Junior about what's happening to you?"
"You know he's going to get clingy when I do."
"He loves you, he'll want to be with you."
Bowser looked at her from under his bushy eyebrows. Looking up like that wrinkled his forehead. The fierceness in his eyes reached her from all the way across the room. He slouched on his throne, his right elbow propped on the chair's arm, his cheek resting against his fist and his swollen right ankle crossed over his left knee. It was daylight out, but the throne room remained perpetually gloomy.
"Junior has a right to know so he can say goodbye, given the chance." Cherry walked forward, her red dress swishing around her legs. "It's not fair to take that away from him. Think about how you felt when you heard my mom died, you felt robbed."
He looked away.
"Bowser, daddy…" She sighed, "You've been his strength all his life. Having you die without a goodbye is going to destroy him. He'll collapse and blame himself for not seeing the signs you hid from him, and then he'll get angry at you for leaving him like that."
"He's a big boy. He'll live."
How could he be so dismissive? Cherry clenched her fists and bit back the urge to swear. "You don't want him to see you die. Is that it?"
Bowser doubled his efforts to avoid meeting her gaze. Finally, he said, "I don't want him to see me weak."
"He already has. Four heart attacks, three stays in intensive care, remember? He doesn't think anything less of you. Tell him, Bowser. He'll have that much more time to prepare when the worst happens."
He chewed on his pinkie claw and the wrinkles in his brow deepened.
"I'll talk to him tonight."
Cherry nodded once. "Good, because if you didn't do it soon, I was going to do it for you."
A rumbling chuckle from Bowser, "Now let's hope I don't croak before tonight."
"You better not."
Hours later, over a huge, messy pasta dinner, Bowser kept his word and told Junior everything.
"…so it's dilated cardiomyopathy and my heart muscle is dying, which means I'm dying…"
Cherry watched the color drain from Junior's face. While he tried to collect himself, Bowser blithely went on.
"It might happen fast or slow, Neil can't say for sure. It's up to you whether or not you want to be in the room with me if I linger before I go. I won't get pissed if you leave the room and I won't get pissed if you're not with me when it happens."
He scooped some meatballs into his jaws and talked with his mouth full, "You don't have to take care of me if you don't want to. Ludwig will arrange the funeral and all the other crap that happens after somebody dies, so you don't have to worry about that."
Junior couldn't talk. He sat there, frozen. Cherry laid her hand on his arm.
Bowser kept eating as if everything he said meant less than the weather. He belched without excusing himself and spaghetti sauce dotted his chin like morbid red freckles.
"Good spaghetti, Cherry! Mm!"
"Excuse me." Junior wiped his hands on his cloth napkin and walked out into the south corridor.
Never in her life did Cherry see someone break devastating news in such an appalling way. Maybe it was easier for Bowser to treat it like a triviality.
"Are you gonna eat that?" He pointed to her meatballs.
"You can have them." Cherry shoved the plate towards him and stomped out into the hall.
She found Junior standing under a lit stone wall sconce, staring blankly at a painting of his dad. Being a conceited creature, Bowser had many paintings of himself hanging all over the castle. Each picture presented him looking strong, all bulging muscles and bared teeth.
A few depicted him in battle with his snake-like penis fully extended, the Koopa way of displaying masculinity in art. They were not a shy culture when it came to showing off. She thought the genitals were exaggerated until she saw Junior's. Their private parts really were that long.
She shook away her thoughts and studied the painting that held Junior's attention. The image showed Bowser leaping, his muscles flexed as he spit orange fire at an unseen foe on his left.
Looking at the picture let Cherry realize how much Bowser had aged. His arms and legs were still muscular, but lacked the definition of his youth. He was thicker around the middle. Even if he worked out every single day for a year, he would never regain the body he had at Junior's age.
"Junior?" Cherry hedged.
"My dad is the toughest guy I know. He got beat down by Mario and he always got back up again. He survived those heart attacks and got back up again. I can't imagine him going out this way. Parents aren't supposed to die, but they do. You know that more than anyone."
He faced her, deadpan. "He's always been there for me. I can't imagine that one day I'll look for him and he won't be there. I can't picture life beyond him."
She leaned on his chest, "I'll still be here."
"I know, and I'm glad," he said. His big arm came around to cradle her against him. He sniffled and warm wetness dripped onto her cheek.
Footsteps padded into the hall.
"Junior, I was an ass back there."
They both looked up. Bowser appeared in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and cringing.
"I just— don't want to make a big deal out of it. Moping about it won't change things. Sitting around waiting for death isn't life."
He smiled wryly, lowering his hand to his side.
"I'm getting the best out of every day because I know there's going to be a tomorrow where I won't wake up alive. And if I don't wake up alive, I don't want to sit on a cloud somewhere thinking 'I could have done this' or 'I wish I did that'. I'd much rather wake up on that cloud, massively hung over from the wild party I called 'my life'—" He punctuated the words 'my life' with a quotation mark gesture— "and piss it all out all over the sun."
Junior leaned away from Cherry a little. "Piss on the sun?"
Bowser scratched his head and shrugged, "It's yellow, Junior. Think about it. Dead people probably piss on it all the time."
The sniffling became snickering and Cherry realized what Bowser was doing. He always knew how to make Junior feel better when he got upset like this. It broke her heart to know his sick sense of humor wouldn't be around during the time Junior needed it most.
"Hey, c'mere." Bowser beckoned Junior closer and pulled him into a tight hug. "I meant what I said. I won't get mad at you if you find me in my bed one morning, or I croak during the five seconds you leave the room to take a piss. I won't be upset if you leave because it's too hard to watch."
He took his face between his hands and looked him in the eye. "All I'm gonna feel after is love, Junior. My eternity won't be whatever my last breath looks like."
"Dad," Junior's tears dribbled past his thumbs. "I love you. Please— this isn't funny. If it's a joke, tell me. Tell me right now."
"I wish it was." Bowser rubbed his hand back and forth across the back of Junior's neck. He gazed upward, his russet eyes pained.
Cherry kissed Junior's cheek, kissed Bowser's cheek and walked away, leaving them to sort this out.
.o
Junior clung tighter to Bowser, claws almost digging into his scales. Deep down he had a feeling his dad wasn't long for this world, and he always made excuses to himself for why he thought wrong.
But his instincts were right the whole time.
"You'll tell me if you feel it happening, won't you?" He sniffled, face buried in Bowser's shoulder. "Don't hide it like you did when I was a kid. I want to be there."
Bowser's brow furrowed. "Are you sure you want to watch? It could get ugly."
"I don't care! I sat with you in that intensive care ward, and I'll sit with you through this, too!"
"Okay! Junior, calm down! Okay. I promise. If I feel it happening and I know it's time, I'll tell you." Bowser leaned back to look him in the eyes. "But I could just, you know, drop. I could go to bed and not wake up. I might not feel it coming."
Junior stroked the side of his dad's face. Crying turned his snout blotchy red. "I'll never be ready. I can't…"
"Nobody's ready to lose people they love, kiddo. That's why it always hurts." Tears welled in Bowser's eyes, too. "I'm sorry I waited so long. I just— you've been so happy after your wedding. I was afraid to ruin it."
Junior wanted to tell him that was selfish. He wanted to yell at him for keeping something like this a secret, and he wanted to rip up the DNR form. Something, anything, to keep him alive longer.
But no wrathful words left his mouth. The anger wilted under the weight of oncoming grief.
"You're an amazing kid, Junior." Bowser brought their foreheads together. "Yeah, you'll grieve, and then you'll grow around it. That's life. I made the best of mine and I want you to make the best of yours."
"W-what do you mean?"
"Don't try to be me. When you're crowned as the next king, be yourself. Be the best damn King Bowser Koopa-Toadstool the Second this empire will see."
Sniffling, Junior nodded and wiped his nose on his palm. His dad said he was dying, but it wasn't like it would happen tomorrow or the next day. They had plenty of time. They always had time.
"Blue shell on the Kart track," he smiled wryly. "That's how you'll love me after you're gone, right?"
Bowser grinned back. "Yup. Blue shell."
Junior sniffled again. "Is there any pasta left?"
.o
Later that night, Cherry found Bowser slumped backwards in his throne with a pen in his hand and piles of completed paperwork in his lap. His mouth hung wide open and his back end almost slipped off the seat.
Her heart rose into her throat until he let out a hearty snore, as if he just dropped off to sleep where he sat.
"Bowser?" She jostled his wrist.
"Hm?" He licked his chops.
"It's after eleven. You should go up to bed."
Bowser shifted his legs without getting up. "Mmkay."
"Nope, don't go back to sleep!" Cherry lifted the paper pile off his lap and took it into his study without disturbing it too much.
Upon her return, she found Bowser snoring again, so she tapped his hand. "Bowser, come on."
"Mmh, huh?"
"Come on." She tugged his hand, which didn't move him much.
Bowser jolted upright, gasping. "Whoa!"
"Ack!"
"Cherry?"
"Bowser?"
He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. His hand shook. He massaged the side of his jaw next, grumbling as if it ailed him.
"Toothache?" Cherry asked.
"Mmhmm. Old age." Bowser yawned. "I was dreaming about the door again…I had my hand on the handle. I never got close enough to touch it before."
She cupped his cheek in her palm and kissed his forehead. "Maybe you'll open it next time, and nothing will hurt again."
Bowser smiled softly at that. He rested his palms on the arms of his throne and heaved himself upright.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you," she murmured, eyes downcast.
He crooked his finger under her chin and lifted her head to meet her eyes. "You got nothing to be sorry for. You were right. I needed that ass kicking."
Cherry took hold of his hand and led him upstairs to his room. He carried his oxygen concentrator. The stairs wore him out, leaving him panting. He sprawled in the prone position across his bed.
"Hey, Cherry?"
"Yes?"
Bowser smiled sleepily at her, eyelids drooping. "You're a great lady."
Cherry mirrored his expression.
He flopped his chin onto his folded hands like a lazy feline and closed his eyes. She stroked his hair until his breathing transformed into obnoxious snoring.
Junior laid across their bed in exactly the same position when she arrived and changed into her pink spaghetti strap nightie.
"Dad won't die on us," he mumbled.
"Please, can we talk about it tomorrow? It's been a wild day. I'm tired."
"Mmhmm." Junior draped an arm over her. "Hey."
"What?"
"Love you."
Cherry curled up against him, pressing her lips to his. "I love you, too, Junior."
.o
It happened the next day.
Bowser woke up earlier than usual to a twinge in his jaw tingling in his left arm that wasn't quite painful. He knew this feeling, it preceded his first heart attack.
How long until it hit? He didn't know— he just knew it was coming and he wasn't going to lay in bed waiting helplessly for it. If Death wanted him, it had to chase him, because he intended to go about his day for as long as he possibly could.
Maybe he would keel over at the breakfast table. Or how about face-first into his dinner dish? What if he died taking a dump? What a funny way to go.
A million possibilities crossed Bowser's mind as he pulled his compression stockings on and rested a hand over his heart to feel it beat.
Joking with myself because I'm gonna die. There's never gonna be humor darker than that.
He shook himself, yanked his nasal cannula off and made his way into the bathroom. Guess I better go take a crap so I don't crap on myself when I die. Geez, who woulda thought the final shit was the most important?
The turd he dropped clogged the toilet. He attacked it with a plunger until it broke up enough to flush down. Then he looked at the plunger, smirked and stuck it back behind the toilet as the fading odor of feces hung in the air.
At least I didn't have to call a pesky plumber. Hey, what if Mario was here when I died. HAHA, why is that so funny? Damn…joking with myself again…I better quit stalling and get going while I still can.
Bowser snuck into his study. Easy to do since it was the level above the kitchen. Shoving all the other paperwork on the desk aside, he pulled out his best parchment, his most expensive fountain pen and penned a letter.
Being a leftie caused some of the ink to smear as he wrote. He left it that way, his fingers curling and looping each cursive word to perfection.
When he finished, he blew on the page to dry it faster, rolled it up and sealed it with a wax Koopa crest.
Bowser pulled his phone out of his shell for a call while heading back up to his room. The stairs exhausted him.
Lakitu descended to his window. "What is it, sire?"
Bowser handed him the scroll. "Deliver this into Junior's hands on the morning of his coronation, whenever that happens."
"Sure, I—" Lakitu accepted the treasured document, "—why me, your majesty?"
"You never let me down before, that's why. Thank you for that."
The praise took Lakitu aback, and he eyed Bowser with a curious tilt of his head. At last, he bowed, pulling the scroll to his chest.
"I shall guard it with my life until it is delivered. It will be done as you command, my king."
Bowser watched him take off into the gray, volcanic sky until his cloud vanished behind the ashy smoke.
Dull aching swelled through his jaw. He popped a Percocet for the pain and stuck a nitro tablet under his tongue because they helped relieve the pressure in his chest.
"I smell bacon," Bowser said as he descended the staircase twenty minutes later. Walking made him lightheaded. "Who's cooking?"
"Me!" Junior yelled. "Cherry's in the shower. We were messy this morning."
He grinned wickedly, putting his hands on his hips. "You mean you missed the hole?"
For that, Junior threw a raw bacon strip at him. It slapped against his chest and slid down to the floor. Bowser picked it up, sniffed it and ate it. "What's the agenda?"
"The usual. Paperwork, sex, tax harassment and getting those trade routes going."
"That's my boy!" Bowser stood on his toes despite his painful feet to look over Junior's shoulder, watching him cook. He edged him out of the way and grabbed the pan.
"Nah, hang on there. The secret to Bowser bacon is pouring the pepper in the pan and moving the bacon around on it. It doesn't work to dump the pepper on the bacon."
"Really?"
"Gets it nice and spicy," said Bowser. He shook pepper powder into the pan and moved the bacon around to coat it.
"A little pepper here…" Then he lifted his leg and loudly passed gas, "…and a fart for flavor."
"I don't know you," Junior laughed. He almost bumped into Cherry, who walked in with damp hair.
"What's going— oh, yuck!" Cherry covered her prominent nose with one hand. "Who farted?"
"Junior! He's a stinker!"
"Hey! Stench follows the ass that makes the gas!"
"No, it's 'he who smelt it dealt it.'"
Cherry shoved her way between them. "Okay, whatever you say. I'm taking some of this."
She took a piece of Bowser bacon.
Bowser noticed Cherry studying him between bites. He left the kitchen to sit down at the dining room table. She came out a few minutes later and placed a plate of bacon within reach.
"Hungry?"
He didn't feel like eating, but he ate anyway so he wouldn't arouse any suspicion. The last thing he needed was Cherry telling him to rest.
"So, how are you?" She sat next to him, worry written in her eyes. "You look pale. Are you okay?"
"I'm great," Bowser said quickly. "Am I pale? Maybe I need to put my oxygen on. Eh…"
He slapped the end of his snout, causing it to gain some color. "There. Better?"
Cherry snickered, "Okay, weirdo. I better help clean up the kitchen. Junior is having a messy morning."
He smirked and his eyes twinkled. "He's like his old man."
She took the bacon plate with her into the kitchen after leaving him two more strips. He ate them, enjoying the spicy crunch.
What a weird feeling, eating something he knew he was never going to eat again.
Bowser sat back, watching them smile at each other while tidying the countertop. Cherry ate. Junior cleaned. Then they traded.
After a bit they spilled into the dining area with paperwork. Bowser helped them sort through and stamp some with the royal Koopa seal, which he liked because it was shaped like his own handsome face inside a spiked circle.
"Geez, they must have killed a forest to make all this paperwork!" Bowser squinted and tilted a sheet of paper several ways. The small letters that Junior and Cherry read without a problem were blobs to his aging eyesight.
He shoved the scroll aside and grinned. "Not that I care, but that wood could've made a trebuchet to launch Birdo eggs through Mario's bedroom window."
"Yeah, well," Junior shrugged, "If you could claim land by spitting on it and saying 'it's mine!', we could avoid this."
Bowser laughed. "I should make that a new law."
Cherry turned sideways in her chair and eyeballed them both, "And watch the chaos that happens. Everybody will be claiming everybody else's land. You'd see fights over property because one guy has an acre more than his neighbor. I don't think you want to waste your time settling land disputes."
Bowser and Junior looked at each other.
"She has a point," said Bowser. "Good thing you married her."
Junior blushed and stamped more papers, setting aside the ones he wanted to review more before giving his approval.
Wait, blushing?
Bowser 'accidentally' dropped a pen so he could look under the table. Cherry had her bare foot wedged under Junior's tail, her toes tickling across his vent to tease him.
A grin spread across Bowser's face. She wasn't so innocent after all.
Heh, they probably did it in the chairs around the table, he mused.
Deciding to see if he was right, he got up and stretched.
"I'm gonna go take a walk and make sure the servants are doing their jobs. So you guys—" A wave of dizziness made him grasp the edge of the table, "— just keep working the papers. I'll be back later."
With that, Bowser padded out into the hall, turned around and peeked into the room.
"Now that he's gone, you're mine, mister." Cherry moved into Junior's lap. Their tongues went into action while they kissed. Then she dipped under the table!
"Cherry!" Junior buried his face in his arms.
She giggled. "What?"
He whispered, "Do the tongue thing?"
"You mean this?"
"Ah!"
His suspicions confirmed, Bowser grinned cheekily and walked off to give them privacy.
He headed out to the racquet ball court behind the tennis and basketball courts. This area doubled as a Kart track if he took the nets down.
There, he hefted his racket and practiced his tennis serves. He went out onto the baseball diamond and utilized his one-handed swing to smash balls over the volcano's rim. Then he trudged onto the basketball court, grabbed a ball and did a few lay-ups. His breath came shorter and shorter and his heart palpitated irregularly like a jackhammer, starving for oxygen, but he refused to slow down. Willfully slowing down meant giving up, and he never gave up.
Sweaty and tired, he strolled back inside. The kitchen was empty and had a salty smell.
"Dad? You look like hell…what gives?"
Bowser startled at Junior's voice behind him. He turned, smirking at his son's flushed face. Junior had no idea he knew what Cherry did under that table.
"Lay-ups, kid. I'm fine. It's just hot out. I'm gonna wash up so I don't gross Cherry out."
"Oh…" Junior sniffed, "yeah, you're ripe. She'll shoot you."
"Yup. See what happens when you mix with women? They make you smell like flowers."
They laughed. Junior continued down the hall and Bowser slipped into his room.
Normally, bathing wasn't a high priority. Koopas always had a musty scent that grew stronger when mixed with sweat.
Bowser thought he smelled manly, but Cherry wasn't much a fan of it…not even Junior's. So they all compromised— he and Junior agreed to shower on days when they got sweaty so their Koopa musk couldn't fill up a room.
Junior took to showering whether he was sweating or not. Bowser only bathed if he got sweaty or visibly dirty.
The cool spray felt nice on Bowser's face. He crouched over to rub soap all over his scales. Every once in a while, he flexed his muscles in front of the mirror across the way.
Pretty sexy for an old Koopa!
Without drying off, he went downstairs and made himself a gigantic beef sandwich, which he crushed and fed to the Piranha Plant growing outside the window.
Usually they only ate meat, but this one was so goofy that it often ate its own leaves. Bowser knew Cherry noted how much he ate, so he at least wanted to appear like he had a normal appetite.
He left the crumbs on the counter and trudged back into the dining room. The clock on the far wall read eleven-thirty.
It was going to be his last visit to her grave. He could choose not to go. The idea of flying that far away made him nervous at first. Fatigue was making itself known, and he longed to lay down and sleep.
He had to say goodbye to her grave, and let her know he was coming.
After a five minute debate with himself, Bowser took more Percocet for the pain in his jaw and climbed into the Koopa Clown Car. He flew lower than usual out of an abundance of caution.
Verdant hills, brown spots where crops grew and multicolored houses speckled the landscape everywhere. Mountains reached off the eastern horizon, the world's eternal sentinels.
The Mushroom castle loomed like a Thwomp next to mineral deposits. Back in the old days, he used to slowly bring his hand down over the castle, pretending to crush it. He chuckled as he recalled the memory.
Cool wind blew his damp hair around his horns. He turned his face into it, imagining it as a kiss from Peach.
Speaking of Peach, her statue shimmered in the distance, a gold star against the horizon.
Bowser set the Koopa Clown Car down in its usual spot and hopped out, breathless. The hill nearly ended him. He pushed his tired, dying body to climb it, even though it meant digging his claws into the dirt and dragging himself up like an infant. His lungs wanted to explode. Blackness pricked at the edges of his vision as he forced himself upright.
"Peach…my love."
He placed his final ritualistic rose under her name, wiped the statue down and tenderly kissed its outstretched hand. It was so hard to breathe, like a vice squeezed his chest cavity. Intermittent pains shot through his left shoulder despite the Percocet in his system.
A sense of doom washed over him like darkness breathing on his nerve endings.
Bowser outran Death all day, but now it gained on him. Death could run forever. He couldn't. But that was okay, he knew Junior would be able to take care of himself now.
"Peach…" He gasped, speaking in spurts as he panted, "I guess— I won't be— coming around here— anymore. But— don't worry— Peach. I think— I'm gonna see— you— real soon. Maybe tonight…maybe. I'll come back— if I'm— still breathing— this time— tomorrow."
He dropped to his knees, his russet eyes gazing longingly at the golden sculpture. "The kids— they're all right. Everything is— it's all right. It's all okay…it really is. I love you— Peach. From the bottom— of my heart— my soul— my everything— I love you."
He kissed her nameplate, rested his forehead against it and caressed the grass. It would be so easy to lay down and give in here. Part of him wanted to. He could imagine the news headlines about a random Toad finding his dead body clinging to Peach's grave marker.
There's no dignity after you're dead, it's all in how you approach it when you know it's coming.
Bowser pushed himself onto his hands and knees. The sense of doom closed around him again, twisting his stomach. Death was almost in pouncing range, but he refused to make the chase easy.
He crawled on his belly towards the Koopa Clown Car and toppled in. His body screamed at him to land somewhere and go to sleep. He resisted the urge. If Death wanted him, it had to tackle him running because he wasn't stopping.
The flight back home was scary. Bowser kept shaking himself and focusing on the horizon to stay conscious. Reality swam and swirled around him. His eyelids drooped.
Sunlight gave way to volcanic smoke and brimstone scents.
He descended into the glowing volcano crater, landed the Koopa Clown Car on the drawbridge instead of its usual tower helipad and hopped down, trying to look nonchalant. For someone who couldn't breathe, he thought he did a damn good job.
"Dad! There you are."
Junior walked out into the afternoon glare. Papers were piled in both his hands.
Bowser's eyes filled with tears as he watched him approach because he couldn't spare him the suffering to come.
Unaware of the crisis unfolding, Junior spoke, and Bowser only perceived it in fragmented bits.
"…called me up… new road… mountain mines… you listening, dad?"
Bowser stopped leaning on the Koopa Clown Car. He walked towards Junior on rubbery legs that barely held him up and cupped his face between his hands.
"Dad?" Junior squinted.
Bowser studied his son's face in detail, admiring, loving and memorizing every inch of his features. His flame-colored hair, his russet eyes, how his teeth gleamed in his mouth and the white bandanna around his neck. His image blurred behind a haze of tears.
"Dad? What's going on?" Junior transferred the papers to one hand and grasped his wrist. Dawning realization spawned in his frightened eyes. "No. No, no, dad, no, not now, you can't!"
"It's okay," Bowser said, fighting the shortness of breath. "Damn— it's amazing— us, existing…" He panted, tears in his eyes, "Maybe— maybe that's why the universe is out there. For us— just for us to look at it."
"Dad," Junior's eyes widened, pleading. "Don't, dad. Don't go."
Invisible fists crushed Bowser's chest. Not quite pain— that was coming and he knew it. He braced himself for the agony seconds away.
"It's happening, Junior. It's time. Sorry." Bowser's lower jaw quivered as the tears in his eyes leaked down his cheeks. He swallowed hard, trying to put on a brave face.
"Dad, no." Junior dropped the suddenly unimportant papers in his hands and they blew everywhere, some catching fire over the lava below.
Bowser stroked Junior's cheeks with his thumbs, desperate to comfort him. He couldn't breathe, every inhale burned.
"Don't remember— this moment, Junior. Don't— remember what— you're— about to see. Remember me strong— strong, Junior…not— like— th— ARGH!"
The pain hit like a Thwomp to the chest. White hot, cramping agony exploded behind his breastbone, raced down his left arm and shot up into his jaw. He felt it in his neck, tail and toes. The rest of him went numb. Cold sweat broke out on his brow. His heart squeezed in on itself, racing.
Junior pulled him close in a tight embrace, tears pouring onto his cheeks. "I'm here, dad." He hiccuped once, kissing his shoulder, "I love you. I'm here."
Bowser clenched his teeth so he wouldn't scream again. "It's okay. I'm still here, too."
"Dad!" Junior's face twisted and he sobbed, unable to hold back. His fingers closed, claws digging in. "Dad, dad, please!"
A strange calm settled over Bowser. He gazed upward into the infinite. Dim, hazy sunlight shone through the volcanic clouds overhead.
"Everything you want to say— Junior— I know. I know, Junior. I know it all."
"Stay with me, dad!" Junior wailed.
Bowser wished he could. He held Junior tightly, protectively, and lovingly stroking his hair while his vision dimmed.
"You cried this hard— when you hatched. I remember…I held you— this close, and— in my heart— I never let go."
Junior clutched him so strongly it hurt. "Don't go now. Dad, I need you!"
A wry smile creased Bowser's features. "You always will."
Another pang ripped through his chest. His legs gave out as Death tackled him and sat on his back. It wouldn't be long before it sank its teeth in to end this.
"Dad? Dad! I've got you. CHERRY!" Junior roared, drawing the attention of everyone in the area. He faltered onto his knees with Bowser in his arms.
Bowser's vision flickered and whited out each time a pang tore through his chest. Everything vibrated wildly. Was it his eyesight doing that, or were his eyeballs rolling around?
"Can you hear me?" Cherry bent over him.
When did she arrive at his side? He looked at her, panting. "Yeah."
She patted his hand, her blue eyes large and afraid. "It's okay. We're going to stay with you. You won't be alone."
Bowser tried to thank her, but his voice dissolved into a moan. The world flipped as Junior laid him down, letting his head rest on Cherry's lap. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand and bent to kiss the top of his head.
"Try to breathe. We'll take care of you."
Pain ripped searing lines behind his breastbone. Was he whimpering from it? He forced himself to be quiet, he wouldn't sound weak.
"Cherry," Bowser beckoned her face closer. When she leaned over, he whispered, "Take care of Junior. This is gonna tear him up."
She kissed his cheek and wiped tears off her face. "I will, I promise."
Junior dialed on his phone. He paced back and forth, murmuring into it.
Cherry asked, "Are they coming?"
Bowser blanked out and missed the reply. Once in a while— or was it every few seconds?— he looked up to see Cherry and Junior still with him.
It was so hard to breathe. He heard himself huffing and puffing as if he ran a marathon.
Footsteps sounded. A lone red-shelled Koopa Troopa rushed out with his oxygen concentrator and nasal cannula.
"Assistance is on its way." Josh cupped his hand around Cherry's arm.
They locked eyes because they knew what this meant.
Josh touched Junior's arm, next, but Junior pulled away. He nodded and bowed deeply towards Bowser before departing into the castle again.
Again, Bowser winked in and out of awareness. The smell of plastic made him struggle.
"Shh, Bowser, it's your oxygen. It'll help."
Bowser let Cherry put it on for him. It eased the burning sensation in his chest enough that he closed his mouth to breathe through his nose.
More footsteps plodded the ground.
Everything that came after reached Bowser in fragments.
Elton and Stevie pried the heavy shell off his back. Many hands slipped a rubbery sling under him and slid him onto a gurney lowered to the ground.
Daylight disappeared behind gray brick ceilings. Squeaking wheels echoed off the walls. Stone sconces rolled past, flames flickering. Elevator platforms disoriented him. He turned his head, trying to figure out where he was. His eyes landed on the line of portraits depicting all his kids as hatchlings.
Fabric thumped. Somebody attached a vent bag between his legs in a crackle of adhesive. The sling that laid him on the gurney pulled him backwards onto his bed. He knew it was his bed by the flamboyant crimson pillows and spiked headboard shaped like his royal crest. The fabric he heard was a thick foam mattress designed for his curved spine. Being laid on his back didn't send pain shooting through his body.
But his chest? He gripped at it, grimacing.
"It'll be okay, sire." Judy climbed onto the bed with him to look into his eyes. The yellow ribbon tied around her head never rumpled in all the chaos. "I'm going to hook you up to a morphine drip, okay? It's going to help your pain and stop the air hunger."
Bowser nodded to show he understood. He extended his right hand sideways, and Cherry grasped onto it without hesitation. Junior sat on the edge of the bed. His frightened eyes were so hard to look into. Bowser wished he could spare him this.
Coldness wiped across his tail. Four swipes.
"Needle in three, two, one." Judy landed it on the first try and taped the catheter down. She adjusted the IV pole off to the side where his tail wouldn't knock it over.
"Cherry, Junior, come here." Judy beckoned them to the IV pole. "The white button will give a bolus dose to help him if he shows signs of pain. It'll only work every twenty minutes, so call me if he needs it more often and I'll increase the drip rate."
Junior sniffled, "Got it."
Judy walked on the bed to lean over Bowser again, her eyes soft and compassionate. "Rest well, my king. The morphine will work soon."
Somebody else crossed towards the head of the bed as she left. Elton took off his gem-encrusted purple glasses to regard him with his ordinary brown Koopa Paratroopa eyes.
"Sleep easy, my liege. It's been an honor."
He spread his wings, bowed gracefully and fluttered off the bed in a whisper of feathers while wiping tears off his face.
Stevie was next, clutching a gold shawl against her shoulders. Glistening streaks marked both her cheeks. She didn't speak, choosing instead to bow and press her hand against his wrist. Then she was gone, a tissue held over her nose.
Josh knelt with his palms cupped together as if in prayer. Tears glistened in those big, soulful brown eyes of his. "May your moment come gently, sire."
He slid off the bed, glanced over his shoulder and left.
Cherry hefted Celine onto the bed when her attempts to climb on failed. The old nurse looked down her nose at Bowser and spoke through a cracking voice, "You better behave yourself, your majesty, don't make my job any harder than it already is."
Bowser waggled his eyebrows and smirked at her. "What if I don't?"
She bonked him over the head with her cane and burst into tears. "I'll make your life hell!"
He cupped his massive hand over the back of her green shell when she turned away. She forgot to bow, but he didn't mind.
Cherry hugged Celine and helped her to the floor. The aged nurse hobbled out, her cane clicking against the bricks.
Neil came in after a few moments. Junior moved aside to give him room.
"Are you ready for the end?"
Bowser nodded. He beckoned Neil closer and whispered, "How is Junior's heart?"
"It looks fantastic, sire." Neil smiled despite the sadness in his eyes. "He could live another hundred years."
Tears filled Bowser's eyes. He offered Neil his hand. "That's what I want for him. A long life with people who love him."
"He will have it. I promise." Neil accepted Bowser's handshake. "And I want for you to find peace."
Bowser chuckled, wincing. "I found that when I saw those two get married. Don't worry about me. I'm fine."
Nodding, Neil withdrew, bowed deeply and departed.
Another pang wiped Bowser out of awareness. He struggled back to the surface, eyes fluttering under soporific weight.
"Can you hear me?" Junior had his left hand. "Dad?"
Bowser turned towards Junior's voice. "I'm still alive?"
Junior snorted a laugh between tears. "Yeah."
Bowser smiled. The pain in his chest shrank. Junior squeezed his hand.
"It's okay to sleep if you want to. Don't fight the medicine." Cherry murmured from his other side. Her voice trembled. "Junior and I are right here. We aren't going anywhere."
No, not sleeping till my body makes me. I wanna stay awake as long as possible!
Bowser gasped and fought to keep his eyelids open. He wasn't going to wake up from this sleep. There was still time to experience life as long as he stayed awake.
He focused on Junior's worried face. What a handsome guy. He tried to smile and look brave for him.
The air hunger shrank away. Things blurred around the edges. Reality was less real. His eyelids drooped lower despite his efforts. Once they closed, nothing he did opened them.
Peach, I hope I'll see you again.
He sighed as Cherry and Junior's voices faded gradually into distant echoes. They kept talking to him, telling him they loved him and weren't leaving his side.
Large arms hugged him tight. Smaller hands smoothed his hair. He was being kissed, held and caressed.
"Blue shell," Bowser murmured.
"Blue shell," Junior's voice cracked. "I know, dad."
Bowser squeezed his hand as tight as he could, letting him know he was still there.
Cherry rubbed his arm and touched her lips to his brow.
His pain stopped, and that startled him the most. Waves of terror washed over him, but the more tired he got the less afraid he felt. In a few seconds the sleepy darkness became comforting.
I guess this is it. Damn, my life was a great party…I wonder how much piss the sun can take…
His grasp on Junior's hand relaxed. The world around him dissolved and his mind went silent.
.o
Loud exhales punctured the dim room. Junior sat on the edge of Bowser's bed, clutching his hand. Bowser's eyes were closed and his mouth wide open, his tongue flexing with every labored breath.
The unnerving gurgling sounds left Junior distraught. Was his dad in pain? Was he still aware of anything going on around him?
He looked just how he did in intensive care through all his other heart attacks, except now the only equipment was a nasal cannula and a single IV. No monitors, no ventilators, no ECG leads and no defibrillators.
His chest heaved and each breath moved the spiked choker around his thick neck, a sign of his struggling. Fighting for every second of life he could get.
Bowser resisted the morphine's sedating effects for over an hour. Now, he fought to breathe.
Overwhelmed…numb even, Junior moved to stand.
Cherry stuck her arm out, "No, Junior, you stay with him."
"He needs another pillow for his head."
"I'll get it."
Bowser was like a rag doll. He stopped breathing when Junior sat him up to put the pillow behind him. Junior laid him back down. The gasping resumed, shallower than before.
Junior's eyes shot desperately to Cherry. He was helpless, unable to escape the inevitable silence waiting in the future.
Junior sobbed, putting his head down on his dad's shoulder. "I don't know what to do…Cherry, I'm so scared."
Cherry slid onto the bed on Bowser's other side. She placed her hand over Junior's, which clutched his father's limp fingers.
"Keep doing this. Don't let go of his hand, he still needs you." Her voice cracked. Tears welled in her eyes.
Bowser moved his head side to side and groaned. Junior bent over him, hoping beyond hope that he might survive this heart attack and be fine. He looked desperately at the IV in Bowser's tail.
"Try a bolus."
Cherry crossed past the foot of the bed and pushed the button Judy pointed out. The IV pump chirped once and briefly whirred faster.
Bowser's squirming calmed.
Junior tried to swallow over the lump in his throat. He didn't know what to say or do.
Fortunately for him, Cherry was more prepared for this difficult time. Her calmness eased some of his panic.
She slid onto the bed, cradled Bowser's head against her chest and caressed his gray-streaked hair.
Miraculously, his painful labored breathing quieted. He drooled all over her chest. She sighed, wiped his mouth with her skirt and looked up.
"My heartbeat calmed him down. I'm not sure if Koopas spend any time inside their mothers, but humans know our mother's heartbeat before anything else. I guess it works on Koopas too."
Cherry, you're the most amazing woman I have ever met, Junior thought as he watched Cherry comfort his dad.
Time passed. Afternoon faded to evening. Evening embraced nightfall.
Bowser struggled on.
Neil stopped by and suggested they take a short break to eat dinner.
"No," Junior protested, "We can't—"
"Sometimes people wait until family isn't present." Neil laid a compassionate hand on Junior's shoulder. "I will sit with him in the room so he isn't alone."
Junior's eyes filled with tears. "You call us if anything changes. If he twitches, tell me."
Neil bowed respectfully, "As you command, sire."
Junior and Cherry went downstairs to eat a cold dinner of leftover coleslaw and Birdo drumsticks. She barely took six bites. He devoured everything on his plate in record time.
They spent no more than twenty minutes away before returning to the bedroom.
Bowser kept soldiering on. He wasn't letting go until he was good and ready.
Neil bid them a quiet farewell as stepped out.
Cherry and Junior took turns holding Bowser all through the night. One slept on the far side of the bed while the other kept watch.
Junior sat up against the headboard with his dad's head cradled on his chest, listening to him breathe.
He remembered how Bowser pleaded with him not to remember his last hours. Try as he might, Junior couldn't make himself block this out. His mind hung on every moment that trickled by. Every breath, every twitch, every moan and every pause in between.
Neil said he expected the end to come around midnight or early morning. Bowser wouldn't quit. He was still panting when the sun came up.
Speaking of— Neil came in at seven o'clock to hang a fresh morphine bag and check on Bowser.
"What a remarkable tenacity." He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Bowser's bicep and squeezed the bulb. His forehead wrinkled. "Hm, ninety over sixty."
Looking up at Junior and Cherry, he said, "His heart is failing."
"How will it end?" Cherry asked, trembling. "I mean…will we know he's about to go, or will he just stop breathing?"
"It will look like his previous cardiac arrest incidents. You may see him twitch and gasp for air. His mouth might turn white, blue or purple." Neil placed his hand on Bowser's wrist. His eyes were puffy, as if he recently shed his own tears. "Death is a process, not an event, and I can assure you that you will know when it's happening."
Bowser never moved throughout the whole exchange. The only sign of life was his chest heaving.
A long time ago, Neil said people in comas heard what happened around them. Was his dad really aware of anything going on, or did people say that to make themselves feel better?
Junior stormed into the bathroom to empty his bladder and wash his face. It was either take a leak or beg Neil to ignore the DNR, and he didn't want to go against his dad's wishes.
Later in the morning, Cherry called Mario to let him know that Bowser was actively dying.
Mario came straight to the castle via the warp zone, but didn't enter the room.
"It's-a not my place to-a be in the way," He said.
But his shocked expression said it all— he saw how awful Bowser looked with his head back and his mouth open, gasping.
Cherry took a break to be with her dad. Mario kept the castle running. He cooked extra meals to freeze and reheat later. Junior found comfort in smelling the different Italian treats.
Bowser's breathing sped up at eleven o'clock in the morning. His forehead wrinkled, but pushing the bolus button on the IV helped him relax again.
Junior called Cherry back into the room. By the time she got there, his snout and tongue were pale blue.
"He's changing color. I think he's going." He sniffed. Tears flooded trails on his cheeks. "Dad…I'm here, dad."
Bowser was about to die right in front of him. It hurt in ways he never knew he could feel pain. He wasn't ready for this. He would never be ready.
"Junior, whatever happens, stay close." Cherry's hands trembled as she struggled to control herself. Her strength amazed Junior.
She bent close to Bowser's ear and whispered to him, "Bowser, can you find the door?"
Bowser grunted low in his throat. Junior startled at the sound. Bowser's eyes moved under his eyelids. He appeared to be dreaming.
She stroked his hair. "It's up the staircase, remember?"
"Peach?" Bowser rumbled. His eyebrows crossed, which almost made Junior laugh through his tears. His dad was so stubborn that he tried to respond while barely conscious. Junior squeezed his hand and looked across the bed at Cherry.
Bowser believed her to be Peach. Or did he see Peach? Was this one of those deathbed visions he read about in books?
"Yes, Bowser, it's Peach." Cherry answered. "I'm at the top of the stairs."
His expression contorted and tears flooded over his snout. She brushed them away with her thumbs.
"It's okay, shhh, it's all right. We've got you. You're safe."
Cherry dabbed at her own eyes. He gasped louder when her hand moved off his face. They were shallow gasps, each one smaller than the last.
She cupped his cheek and softly kissed his brow.
"You're almost there. Don't struggle."
She leaned over and kissed Junior as well, "These are his last few breaths, Junior. Say something. Please, say something to him."
The pain hit Junior like a stone in his belly. I don't KNOW what to say!
He sobbed against Bowser's shoulder, clutching his hand tightly as if that alone would keep him alive.
"Dad…it's okay. I'm gonna be fine," Junior choked out. A lie, he wasn't fine at all, dammit!
He forced himself to look at Bowser's ashen face. He remembered one of their last conversations, and from that thought he blurted out, "Don't forget to piss on the sun."
Bowser squeezed his hand and laughed. Faintly, just a snort and a twitch of the fingers, but he let Junior know he heard him. His face relaxed again and his chest stopped rising.
"Dad?" Junior bent over him. His expression twisted and he looked up at Cherry. She shook her head, covering her mouth with one hand.
A full minute went by. Then two. Nobody moved.
Bowser's eyes flew open and he jolted upright into a sitting position, babbling incoherently. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed as if about to leap up and run.
"It's okay! Dad, it's Junior. You're okay!" Junior pulled Bowser to his chest so he wouldn't fall face-first onto the floor.
Bowser snarled at something unseen. Smoke exuded from his nostrils, blackening the nasal cannula and filling the room with a distinctive kerosene scent.
Cherry ducked to the floor, turned off the oxygen concentrator and dodged his flailing legs on her way towards the IV. By some miracle he didn't rip it out of his tail. She pushed the bolus button, panting.
Panicked, Junior struggled to keep his dying dad from falling off the bed. "Cherry!"
"Hold him!" Cherry jumped past Bowser's legs to stand by Junior's side again. "Bowser, it's okay. Shhh, it's okay."
Bowser's huge fists closed around her wrists and wrenched her forward. She cried out as she fell against the bed.
Junior pried Bowser's hands off her and they clutched his forearm instead.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, worry about h—"
Bowser roared and thrashed violently in Junior's arms, teeth bared. He only made that face in battle. Foam flecked the corners of his mouth and spilled onto his chest. His eyes stared blankly into nothing.
"C-Cherry, what do we do?" Junior's heart throbbed in his ears. This wasn't his dad! His dad had more dignity than this!
Cherry sobbed and rubbed her bruised wrists. "I don't know! This wasn't supposed to happen. Ack!"
She ducked when Bowser blasted a stream of fire at the wall across the room. Whatever battle he fought, it was over once the flames left his mouth.
His thrashing weakened and ceased. The look on his face went from vacant to awed, as if he beheld something beautiful beyond imagining. He was quiet for a long while, just staring into space and moving his fingers aimlessly across Junior's forearm. Whatever he saw wasn't of this world.
"Oh, Bowser," Cherry stroked his shoulder. She used her other hand to wipe the teardrops off her face. "It's okay, you didn't hurt me."
"Dad," Junior whispered, voice trembling. This moment didn't feel real or survivable. Time beyond it couldn't exist.
Bowser's eyes widened and glistened with upwelling tears.
"Peach!" He released Junior's arm and reached out towards Cherry. "I love you, Peach."
Cherry clasped his outstretched hands, "I-I love you, too, Bowser." She sniffed, tears streaming onto her cheeks. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I love you, too."
Bowser brushed a teardrop off her cheek and smiled at her with unfathomable warmth.
Then he looked up into Junior's eyes, his tear-filled gaze radiating nothing but love.
"Love ya, brat," he said.
The totality of him— six decades of memories nobody would remember like he did, stories only he knew, thoughts never spoken aloud, unwritten songs, hopes, dreams, regrets, secrets, emotions, and the whole history carved by his lifetime— dissolved like breath on a mirror as his eyes ceased to see.
Junior helplessly watched Bowser's steady, even breaths transition into shallow, irregular gasps. He pulled him tighter against his chest when his head lolled backwards over the crook of his arm.
Nothing looked or sounded worse than agonal breathing. Bowser's body didn't want to stop functioning, so his dying brain sent signals to gasp as if that would restart his fibrillating heart. The gulping jaw movements and the flaccidness of his face were so unnerving that Junior stared straight ahead to avoid seeing it.
There was no sound other than the horrific gurgling rasps growing further apart. His mouth turned purple like bruises.
"Shh, Bowser, it's okay to let go now." Cherry kissed his hands and rubbed his huge pinkie knuckles with her tiny thumbs. Her lower lip quivered. "We're here, we love you, and we know you love us."
She mistook his gasping for a struggle. Bowser was already gone, no pulse, no blood circulating through his body, but Junior couldn't find it in himself to correct her.
He didn't want to bear witness to this. At the same time, he refused to tear himself away and abandon his dad during such a vulnerable moment. So he held him, kissed his cheek and tried to reflect back the same love he saw in his eyes.
"Dad, please," He whispered.
In his arms, Bowser twitched and gasped. The pause afterward stretched on.
Junior remembered a conversation they had when he was ten.
"You're going to die someday."
"Yeah. Someday."
"Am I gonna see you do it?"
"Maybe."
A few minutes later, Bowser gasped again. His eyes rolled upward towards his eyebrows and his whole body shifted in a slow motion spasm. He stilled, mouth falling agape and empty eyes wide open.
.o
Bowser dropped onto all fours and bounded up the spiraling polychromatic staircase. Something heavy pressed down on his back, hindering his ascent.
He retreated into his shell, spun the annoyance off and emerged standing. A shadow, the only shadow in this place, took the shape of something winged— a bird, or a bat, he couldn't tell for sure.
Death itself stared him down through colorless, blank eyes. Before he made a move, it shot forward into his chest and unimaginable agony wrenched his senses.
Bowser spread his arms and roared, his slavering jaws gaping. He called upon the fire in his belly to dissolve his assailant and exhaled it out as thick, black smoke. Flames followed, burning his pain into nothing. This was his peace, he would not be taken away from it again!
"Peach!" Bowser shouted up the stairs, "Don't go without me! I'm on my way!"
He wiped his mouth and resumed racing upward on all fours. Brighter light awaited him each time he rounded a bend. Every impact of his hands and feet rang unearthly chords into the liminal space around him.
White brilliance blasted through stained glass windows lining the curved walls. They were images of his children, dynamic, alive and moving.
Ludwig, lifting his baton before an orchestra.
Iggy, throwing his head back in raucous mirth.
Lemmy, doing handstands on a glittery ball.
Roy, reaching into an oven to pull out meat pies.
Wendy, preening and pirouetting.
Morton, hefting amps onto a darkened stage.
Larry, holding a beating Koopa heart.
Junior, leaning close with tears in his eyes.
Bowser turned the final corner to reach the straightaway. Here, the infinite white blotted everything else out. Music rang in his ears, louder and louder until it swallowed his senses in beauty.
The stairs crumbled away as he stood upright and stepped off them.
Warm wuthering blew across his shell. He turned his back into it and continued forward. Something solid met his hands. He squinted, barely making out the edge of an arched wooden door.
Bower pushed it open. He never imagined it could get brighter, until it did.
At first he saw shapes and a white sleeve. Somehow, he was dressed in his purple and white wedding tuxedo, the one he never got to wear. He looked past his arm and found the Mushroom castle's great hall. The aisle runner and stained glass windows were all diamond-white.
He gazed at the rosette window at the end of the aisle. Beneath it, a shimmering white grand piano with the top closed.
Bowser walked up the long aisle and seated himself on the piano bench, his fingers easily finding their way across the crystalline keys. The song he wrote for Peach ages ago surged upward like a vine climbing through miles of soil.
" Peach, you're so cool… "
He threw his head back, eyes closed in delight as his voice echoed through the great hall.
" …Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches… Peaches! Peach! PEACH! "
Warm air whispered against his face. Bowser, being in the middle of singing Peach's name at the top of his lungs, was inundated with a familiar peachy-whine perfume.
He faltered and opened his eyes.
A figure in a white tulle ball gown leaned against the opposite end of the piano, her elbow resting on the closed lid and her chin cupped by her palm. Her image reflected itself in his pupils.
"Don't stop on my account." Peach smiled behind her diaphanous wedding veil. Her gem-encrusted tiara sparkled like starlight in the glow of the rosette window.
"Peach!" Bowser's eyes widened. "Are we really here? Is this really happening?"
"Yes, you goofball." Peach arched a sculpted eyebrow. "You did it. You're here because you made yourself worthy."
The tears in his eyes glistened. One escaped onto his cheek, but he wiped it away.
"Peach…" Bowser took his tophat off and set it aside, revealing the thick, reddish-orange hair of his youth. He never looked away from her gorgeous blue eyes. "I love you, Peach."
"Can I tell you a secret?" Peach peered at him through her long eyelashes, a mischievous smile twitching at her pink lips. "I love you, too."
With those words, his broken heart healed and he forgot pain or sadness existed. The teardrops sliding down his cheeks carried his lifetime of rage and sorrow away. Nothing in creation matched the beauty of her blue eyes returning the love he felt towards her for so long.
Peach hopped onto the piano lid and settled across it on her stomach, her chin once more propped against her palm. Her immense tulle skirt took up most of the piano lid. She kicked her feet up behind her, white high heeled pumps flashing in the surrounding luminescence.
"Can you sing that for me one more time? I want to hear how it ends."
Bowser grinned in delight and rolled the opening chords. He sang for her again, all the way through, without interruption. With that song, he offered his heart, his soul, his everything.
Peach wiggled her feet back and forth to the rhythm. Their eyes met as he brought his raspy fortissimo to a smooth, gentle pianissimo. Her name, on his lips as a prayer.
The final chord faded away. Bowser exhaled, and after that he stopped needing to breathe at all.
Peach slid off and Bowser stood up. She crossed around the curved side of the piano. He met her halfway.
They embraced like two oceans colliding. She was so tiny and fragile in his arms.
At Peach's tacit nod, Bowser lifted her blusher veil out of the way and bent forward, crushing her lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, matching his passion with hers.
The glow beside them brightened. Bowser saw his whole life in Peach's eyes. There was nothing but love now. He picked her up bridal style and kissed her again as he walked into the rosette window's light.
.o
.o