Vicissitude

by Cyndi

Bowser learns he is dying as Junior prepares for his wedding and his future. This is a story about life, death and legacies. (Sequel to Liminal Lacuna)

7. Chapter 7

Summer heat slipped away. Fall breezes brought colorful leaf piles. Winter snowstorms blew through. Spring sprouted fresh flowers. Summer arrived again in dazzling sunlight.

Junior and Cherry got used to the mountains of paperwork necessary to finish bringing two kingdoms together.

One major change was the Darklands Deaf Network and the Mushroom Kingdom Deaf Networks combining into one channel, KMDN, for the Koopa-Mushroom Deaf Network. It shifted to include programming in Mushroom Sign— with childrens' shows in the morning to introduce children to the concept of sign languages and Deaf culture. News programs and talk shows included deaf Toads and deaf Koopas so both languages were represented.

Getting it up and running took eight months.

Iggy designed the new logo, which showed Koopa and Toad hands finger spelling the station letters against a soft sunset background.

Several other news stations merged. Morton applauded the TV when the Rox News Network stated it was going off the air.

"Those shitbags were nothing but a glorified tabloid. Good riddance!"

Life didn't assume a new normal, but it went on.

.o

The day Bowser died wasn't the worst for Junior. He thought it was initially, but he had so much to do. The day of the wake wasn't the worst, either. Neither was the funeral.

But all the days Bowser stayed dead?

His first hatch-day without his dad?

His dad's hatch-day?

The days without his bass voice echoing off the walls?

The days of emptiness once filled by his footsteps?

The days spent in rooms never to be darkened by his shadow again?

The days memories exuded from still air no longer disturbed by his breath?

The days his absence loomed louder than silence?

Those were the worst days.

Junior's most difficult moments happened whenever he saw a piece of paperwork and had to stop himself from shouting, "Hey, dad?"

Because there would be no answer.

Those moments were even worse than the worst days.

Sometimes, Junior laid on Bowser's bed and cried silent tears. The place where he died felt more sacred to him than the grave housing his remains.

Speaking of graves, Peach's statue wasn't alone on the hill anymore. Beside her stood a golden sculpture of Bowser. He smiled softly at her, his outstretched hand clasping her outstretched hand— the same one he used to kiss each time he visited.

Junior gave the sculptor a photo of Bowser passing off the rings at his wedding, and the sculptor based the pose and facial expression off that.

Bowser's grave statue was the first known piece of art that did not depict him being violent. He looked happy, peaceful and loving, a side of him Junior and Cherry felt the world needed to see.

Junior didn't visit it often. It reminded him of watching his dad take his last breath. The pain from that moment was still too raw to approach without breaking down.

Even harder, Junior mourned while taking over his dad's old duties as king. He refused to do a coronation ceremony until the new castle was completed. That didn't make him any less of a king. The title went to him the second his dad died.

Amid the grief maelstrom, instances of calm came from unexpected places.

Junior went through Bowser's tablet one chilly morning and found dozens of videos of him sitting up in his bed, happily reading every single Peter Piranha book Junior had in his childhood collection. Silly voices, pointing to the pictures and all. There were copies of each video where he performed the books in Koopa Sign, which meant making goofy faces to represent the way the characters spoke.

His hair was graying and he wore his nasal cannula in all of them. Sometimes he ran out of breath mid-sentence and had to pause to gasp. The time stamps indicated he recorded them two days before he died.

Maybe he intended to upload them himself and never got the chance. Maybe he left them for grandkids he knew he would never meet. Maybe they were for kids who didn't have a dad.

Junior created a ClawTube account named KingBowser1stArchives and posted them. He made playlists for the spoken readings and the Koopa Sign readings.

Once he posted it to the royal public ClawBook page, the hits, 'scratches' and comments rolled in. Junior turned off the notification sound to stop the incessant dinging.

Wendy commented, I remember these!

There were childhood videos of all his siblings, too. Some showed difficult moments, like Ludwig having his ears drained of pus, Lemmy melting down, Iggy going through seizures or Morton screaming in pain from colic.

He found a funny one where Morton unleashed a fountain of liquid poop while having his diaper changed. Bowser fell completely out of frame, guffawing.

"You, sir, are an artist!" He cackled. "The distance, the stench, the awe!"

The video ended with Morton farting and giggling. He was such a gassy baby that Bowser edited together a fifteen minute baby fart montage video.

Another video had Wendy laughing and riding a tiny tricycle away while Bowser chased after her, his huge feet occasionally entering the frame.

"Renegade baby on the loose!"

In a later clip, six year old Larry cried in the midst of teething as Bowser wiped numbing gel on his sore gums.

"Aw, that's rough, buddy. Tell me all about it."

"I hate it!" Larry bawled.

And there was Roy, flopping butt-first into a mud puddle and bouncing to splatter it everywhere. Bowser's mirth overwhelmed the camera microphone.

Then Junior saw himself snatch the camera and run with it pointing backwards, getting bouncy footage of his dad chasing him upstairs. Bowser laughed, his teeth taking up the whole frame when he caught up and swiped his camera back. He panted unusually heavily after such a short run, the first sign of Crash nobody knew he had.

The time stamp on the video was a day prior to his first heart attack, a final normal moment before the eighteen year countdown to his death.

Junior missed his dad's booming, brontide laugh, but watching the videos helped him realize something.

Bowser wasn't his last breath. He was everything that happened before it.

Junior bundled everybody's footage in zip files and sent them to whichever sibling they belonged to via email. He cried after.

Cherry understood his grief couldn't be rushed and had to blow past in its own time. She sat with him and stroked his hair while he sobbed. All she could do was love him through it. Her kindness meant the world to him, especially on the agonizing days where everything ached.

.o

Bowser's one year death anniversary hit Junior so hard he woke up crying, nearly unable to function through the flashbacks. He felt Bowser thrashing in his arms as if it happened all over again.

Going into his dad's room was a mistake, yet he kept being drawn there. He laid across the bed and tried to drag his whirling thoughts somewhere else.

Fate pushed his hand.

Cherry came into the room holding her phone.

"Hey, Junior. Morton is coming over."

Junior picked his head up off his folded arms, eyes bloodshot from crying. "What's going on?"

"He didn't say, but he's using a warp zone and he's going to be here any minute. It sounded urgent."

She brushed tears off his cheeks and patted his shoulders. Today was hard for her, too.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get you up."

Junior stopped in the bathroom to comb his hair and wash the evidence of weeping off his face.

Morton and Sienna came up the warp zone as Junior sat down in the living room so full of memories. Cherry exclaimed something unintelligible due to the distance and reverberation. Only the last bit reached his ears.

"…hurry up and show him! He's having a bad day, he needs to see her!"

Cherry and Sienna stayed out in the hall. Morton's heavy footsteps padded into the living room. He stopped in the doorway, his noisy breathing audible in the quiet room.

"Hey, Junior. Cherry says you're having a rough day."

"Mmhmm. Missing dad." Junior wiped his hair backwards without looking up. It was much longer than Bowser's, the longest strands now touching his second shell spike.

"Me, too, but I got a present today."

"Yeah?"

"Something really special."

Morton swung his leg over the arm of the couch and sat. In his arms, a tiny bundle swaddled in a white blanket.

Junior gasped, shaping his arms to properly hold the hatchling who barely weighed anything at all. A lump clutched his throat and his eyes welled up at the sight of this baby, so tiny and new.

"She hatched an hour ago," said Morton, his voice soft. "Haven't told anybody yet. Dad would've been first to know, but he's not here, so…you get to be first."

She had a wide snout with big nostrils like Morton. Two little teeth poked from her lower jaw, giving her an appearance of perpetual pouting. Her coily plume of hair, scales, shell, snout and claws were as black as soot with a brown undertone. Even her tongue and mucous membranes had a dark brown tinge to them.

Junior couldn't believe it. A melanistic Koopa! She looked like a tiny shadow wrapped in white.

"Oh wow." He tore his eyes off the hatchling to look at Morton's proud face, and it dawned on him that his brother was a dad now. "What's her name?"

"Aretha." Morton grinned, eyes twinkling. "Because she demands respect."

"Damn right!" Junior beamed at him. "That is a regal name. Princess Aretha Koopa."

He stopped and stared. "I'm an uncle."

"You sure are!" Morton slapped his shell, laughing.

Aretha grunted as she stirred, her tiny hands wiggling under the blanket keeping her warm. Junior kissed her forehead. She opened her eyes— they were black like Morton's— and he realized she was a blank slate of a person who didn't know anything about the world yet. It seemed criminal that she would grow up to learn what grief and sorrow were.

Then she squirmed, stretched and scrunched her face.

"Uh oh. Upset baby alert." Junior passed Aretha back to Morton, who cradled her against his chest.

"It's all good, sweetie pie." Morton cooed at her. "Daddy's gotcha. You don't need to be scared of your uncle's silly mug."

A wave of grief washed over Junior at realizing Bowser never got to meet his granddaughter. He would've posted a million pictures on his ClawBook profile and flown over the Darklands in the Koopa Clown Car, shouting at everyone to look at her.

Junior sobered, daring to broach the question he wished he didn't have to.

"Does she have Crash?"

Morton nodded, his soft expression never changing. "Found out through the Larry test. We won't know what degree she has until she's ten. But we know to check, and that's what counts."

He looked down at Aretha when she squawked again. "Right, sweetie pie?"

Aretha grunted and unleashed the loudest, wettest fart, a sound that should've been impossible for a baby so small.

Junior's chest felt like someone poured sugar on his nerves. He rocked backwards in cry-laughter. "She farts like dad!"

Morton snickered. He turned to the door. "Hey, Sienna? I need the diaper bag. I think she pooped."

Sienna and Cherry spilled into the living room, chattering a mile a minute.

"…took her three hours to work her way out, but there she was! She takes after me. I was a tiny baby, too."

"That's incredible. She's so cute!"

"She is— phooey! Cute and stinky." Sienna kissed Morton's cheek as she handed over the blue diaper bag.

"Do you know how to do that?" Junior pointed.

Morton shot him a look from beneath his thin eyebrows. "I changed you when you were a baby, so this is easy."

He laid Aretha on her back in his lap, so her shell fell between his parted thighs. This tilted her head down towards the floor and pointed her feet at the ceiling.

"We lay human babies flat," Cherry whispered. "Doesn't her shell come off?"

"Our shells are attached to our spines until we're a year old," Sienna said. "The bones dissolve like the roots in human baby teeth and shrink into our vertebrae. You can tell how old a baby is by checking if the shell comes off and taking a spinal X-ray."

"Oh."

"Yeah, and it's really fragile on a hatchling," said Morton. "This is how dad used to do diapers for us right after we hatched."

Morton preferred cloth diapers, so it had a little sleeve for Aretha's tiny tail. Silver snaps held it all together. The mess inside looked like snot and mustard. First poops were always a shedding of intestinal mucus, so it reeked.

"Phew!" Junior covered his nose.

Unbothered, Morton changed her quickly, using the wipes with a gentleness Junior didn't know he possessed. He snapped the fresh diaper on, put the dirty one in a sealed plastic bag and cleaned his hands using sanitizing wipes.

Aretha wriggled her toes when he tickled her miniature feet.

"There we go, princess, all better!" Morton swaddled her again. "Hey, Cherry, want to hold her?"

"Please! She's adorable." Cherry extended her arms to receive the baby. "Oof! She's heavy."

"Twenty pounds," Morton winked.

Junior forgot humans saw that as heavy.

Lemmy weighed eight pounds at hatching. He was tiny.

Cherry beamed at Aretha's curious face. "Did you say this little goober is an hour old?"

"Mmhmm." Sienna slipped her arm around Cherry's shoulders, eyes soft. "She's beautiful. Morton and I, we made that."

"You did most of the work." Morton took her hand and gently kissed it. He gazed up at her in awe, like she created the sky. "Heh, who knew our night behind the rock would turn into this?"

She giggled and whispered in his ear, "You're just that charming."

Over ten years together, and they still looked at each other like they were in the middle of a wonderful dream.

Cherry kissed Aretha's forehead and talked to her in a singsong voice, "You're a pretty little girl! Yes you are!"

Junior hugged Sienna and Morton, practically dragging them against him. "I'm so happy for you two! A princess!"

Aretha coughed and wailed, the tiny cry of a hatchling realizing she had lungs and a voice to tell everybody about it. Cherry rocked her back and forth, unbothered.

Junior took his phone out, opened the ClawTube app to Bowser's page and picked a random video.

"Aretha, this is your grandpa."

Bowser's goofy reading of Peter Piranha And The Stinky Puddle eased her off to sleep again.

Morton teared up, his forehead wrinkling.

Sienna brushed away a teardrop that slipped onto his cheek. "I miss him."

Cherry nodded in agreement.

Junior waited for the video to finish before he put his phone away.

"Make sure she knows who he was."

"Oh, absolutely." Morton sniffled. "She might be a queen someday, she's gotta know all about who came before her."

Sienna kissed the top of Cherry's head and took sleeping Aretha into her arms. There was no mistaking the utter awe glistening in her eyes.

"We'll tell everybody else she hatched later," she whispered, kissing her daughter's brow. "We wanted you to meet her first."

The next day, Junior's ClawBook exploded with photos of his excited siblings taking turns holding Aretha.

"She's going to get spoiled rotten!" Wendy laughed in a video.

Aretha's entry into the world didn't erase Junior's pain, but she softened some of its sharp edges.

.o

Time twirled on, and it waited for no one.

Junior threw Ludwig a surprise fortieth hatch-day bash on South Shell Beach. The weather ended up being perfect despite the winter season.

Ludwig never saw it coming, even though Black almost spoiled it twice by accident.

He had a blast at the party. Morton got him falling down drunk. Black helped him walk everywhere. The photos were glorious.

Ludwig wore glasses now, thin rectangular silver frames that almost disappeared against his features. His voluminous blue hair sported a gray streak in the front, but only on the left side.

Neither Jack nor Black showed any signs of graying yet at forty-two. Their parents were in their late sixties now, and their dad only had a small streak on the back of his head.

At the end of the party, Ludwig threw his glasses and hearing aids to Junior and did a cartwheel into the frothy surf. He came up laughing, his wet blue hair slicked against his face.

Black scrambled into the water to kiss him. They rolled around, getting covered in sand, and stumbled into the showers together. Everybody heard what they did, but the gathering tacitly pretended to be oblivious.

It worked until Iggy sent Ludwig an audio recording of their moaning and growling the next day. He never let Ludwig live that down.

Ludwig got Iggy back by having a giant inflatable rainbow dildo from Glitterbomb delivered to his house. Iggy laughed so hard he choked and posed obnoxiously with it in photos for weeks after.

.o

The passage of time wasn't without its harrowing moments.

Junior woke up early one morning to Wendy frantically posting on ClawBook.

She found a Koopa toddler wandering across her land with an overflowing dirty diaper. He was old enough to talk, but didn't seem able to, and he attacked her when she tried to help him. The boy didn't respond to being spoken to, yet reacted with fright to noises around him in ways that reminded her of Lemmy.

He didn't have such a strong reaction when Jack brought him inside. Jack managed to contain him safely in a downstairs bathroom. Just by touching him, he could tell the poor kid was dehydrated and starving, so he got him to drink two glasses of water and spoonfed him half a jar of nutrient dense Meat-Meal.

The little boy screamed and tried to flee anytime someone attempted to touch his diaper or clean him. Sometimes he shrieked for apparently no reason and flailed as if attacked by insects.

Wendy took photos, but the child was so filthy his coloration wasn't identifiable. He must have crawled into mud at some point. The scleras of his eyes were pale pink, almost blending into his irises. She suspected an infection, probably pinkeye.

What scared her was his fever. It wasn't that cold outside, yet he stayed frigid to the touch despite being wrapped in blankets, and within two hours he became too lethargic to eat or drink.

Then he threw up and kept throwing up. Nothing stayed down, not even water.

Jack told Wendy to call an ambulance. Black happened to be driving that early morning when he got the alert, and he rushed the child to the Koopa City Central Hospital.

Black took over posting about the toddler from the hospital, hoping somebody out there might be able to identify him.

Doctors finally got the filthy diaper off him, cleaned away the crusted feces on his vent and discovered his genitals were lacerated as if someone forced an object into his cloaca at some point. He had a urinary tract infection so severe he urinated blood and pus.

X-rays of his spine showed his vertebral ridges were fully withdrawn, so doctors knew he was two years old. He had bone abnormalities in his arms and legs, giving them a slightly bowed appearance, and his shell showed signs of pyramiding around the spikes.

He wasn't fed proper, nutritious food once in his short life until Jack gave him Meat-Meal.

Over the next several hours, doctors established the little boy was non-speaking autistic, dehydrated, malnourished, and acutely sick. They got him on IV fluids and antibiotics in time to avoid sepsis.

The next day, nurses endured the boy's panicked screams while bathing him and putting on a clean diaper.

Junior kept scrolling, expecting to find a brown Koopa similar to Morton, so he got a surprise in the post-bath photos.

The boy had albinism, something extremely rare in Koopas. Those translucent pink eyes of his? Perfectly normal, no infection in them whatsoever. He looked like an alabaster sculpture with his glossy white scales, white snout, white spiked shell, white hair that fell in waves framing his face, and nearly white mucous membranes. Three buck teeth poked out from under his upper lip like tusks. When he closed his mouth, his teeth reminded Junior of one of Cherry's hair clips.

The urinary tract infection made urinating so painful that the boy shrieked every time he wet his diaper. He never seemed aware of an urge to go, so the sudden shocks of pain sent him screaming. It turned out he had an extremely inflamed, distended bladder. Doctors sedated him and inserted a catheter. Three liters of purulent urine came out of his body. If that wasn't enough, he started fecal vomiting because he developed a bowel impaction, and required enemas to clear it. He was sick.

The kid made the news— they called him Baby X for lack of a name.

Black visited Baby X every day after work, just to give him a familiar face in the sea of strangers. He mentioned how much he hated seeing the poor kid go through all the scary, invasive tests when he felt so horrible.

It took two months to get Baby X healthy again.

Black kept stopping in to see him, always timing his visits to mealtimes so he could feed the child. The boy wasn't capable of feeding himself, so Black fed him. Baby X gobbled up anything offered like he feared it being taken away. He began to associate Black with food and safety.

No parents came forward, and there were no records of the little boy anywhere in any systems.

Black told Ludwig about his visits to Baby X. Ludwig went with Black to see him, fed him Meat Meal and gave him a soft gray blanket to curl up with. He fell immediately in love and asked for adoption papers.

Two weeks later, Baby X had two loving dads and a name: Wolfgang Amadeus Koopason.

Wolfgang was an enormous child, and his wide hands and feet suggested he would grow up to be bigger than Morton.

Visitors other than Lemmy weren't allowed for almost a year, because Wolfgang panicked around strangers, especially women. At first, Wolfgang was violently aggressive. He bit, punched, scratched, cried and screamed to communicate that he wanted something. Changing his diapers was a nightmare.

The sound of him screaming didn't bother Ludwig or Black since they couldn't hear it, but they hated how distressed he became. Black cried about it a few times.

What kind of asshole hurts a child this way? He sent in a mass text at five in the morning once.

Ludwig took photos of gashes in his arm where he got bit. Black had to clean them and close them with surgical glue.

Wolfgang was a severely traumatized little boy. It took a year of patience, love and tenderness before he so much as began to trust Ludwig and Black to meet his needs without screaming or distress.

Nobody knew exactly when his hatch-day was, so Black and Ludwig opted to celebrate it on the early winter date Wendy found him. Black baked him a cake, and Ludwig played music. The photos of him smashing orange frosting onto his snout made a few rounds among the family.

Proper food straightened out his bones and the pyramiding in his shell went away. His thick arms and legs looked so much better without their joints trying to burst through his scales.

He let Ludwig and Black hold him for the first time six months after being brought to their home. They caught the moment on video— and they both cried as they signed to him how much they loved him. The next six months grew easier.

Ludwig posted photos of Wolfgang sitting in his lap at the piano, just like he sat in Bowser's lap as a child. The kid loved pressing two keys at a time, as if he sought out the notes that loved each other.

Black posted several photos of himself teaching Wolfgang how to check a pulse. He had a hilarious video showing him trying to use a blood pressure cuff on his own leg.

Wolfgang learned to communicate via Koopa Sign, PECS cards and his tablet. The most important PECS card was the red one showing a X with UNSAFE written across it in bold letters. Anytime he got scared, he could pull out that card and Ludwig or Black stopped whatever they were doing until he felt safe again.

Amazingly, he recognized his parents were deaf right away. He showed them his tablet screen after he typed instead of pressing the talk button, something he didn't do around hearing people.

Black and Ludwig began exposing him to things— they took him to the beach, where Ludwig walked him in the surf and Black placed shells in his hands. He lined them up in neat rows according to size.

They showed him sunsets, and gave him toys, and taught him that they weren't there to hurt him.

Ludwig set up a tablet where Wolfgang got to meet all his aunts and uncles via video chat first. They talked to him while he sucked his thumb or spun his toys on the floor. He slowly acclimated to their voices and faces, and began looking at the tablet when they talked to him.

Junior read a Peter Piranha book each time it was his turn to video chat with Wolfgang. He did a pretty decent job making up voices, though he wasn't as good at it as his dad.

Jack was the first person to visit Wolfgang in person. Ludwig attached clear braille labels to the PECs cards. Wolfgang picked up on how Jack touched them to read. He held them up for other people, but he placed them in Jack's hands. If he signed, he pressed his hand to Jack's while doing it.

Black invited people over one at a time to meet Wolfgang, because a big gathering would be too much for him.

Wendy's visit went surprisingly well. Wolfgang didn't attack her. He snatched the glitter tube she brought for him, but he stayed beyond touch range. That sounded like a good start.

Morton took Aretha and sat her back to back with Wolfgang.

Wolfgang smiled as he lined up his colorful blocks while Aretha piled hers up haphazardly. She turned to look at him. He sucked his thumb, still gazing at his blocks.

Morton got a great picture of them sitting together. Aretha, tiny and delicate, with hulking, broad Wolfgang.

His caption: Melanism and albinism in one shot! Two perfectly cute kids! What are the odds?

Junior was the last to meet the little fella— his duties as king delayed the visit longer than he intended.

But he made it.

Morning sunlight glowed through the rectangular window over the kitchen sink to illuminate Ludwig's and Black's wedding photo on living the wall above the couch. They kept the same photo in their bedroom, too.

Ludwig's penthouse had many windows, all tinted and tilted just so to keep the sun from shining directly in anyones' faces, and the entire south wall of the living room was a sliding glass door leading onto the fenced-in rooftop. The huge balcony boasted a small lawn, swingset, and stone furniture next to a covered fire pit. Junior always got a chuckle at the white egg chair on a spring designed for rocking.

Cherry sat in the painted blue living room, chatting it up with Ludwig and Black while Junior tiptoed into the back bedroom.

Wolfgang's bedroom walls were soft midnight blue and the space decked out like a sensory room. LED strings, gentle dim lights, colorful toys, weighted blankets and sturdy chewable tubes capable of withstanding Koopa jaws. A glittery yellow star night light was plugged into an outlet above the light switch next to the door.

Junior remembered Ludwig talking about being afraid of the dark as a toddler, and how Bowser gave him that night light to help him feel safe. He smiled at seeing its legacy carried on. His dad's love popped up in unexpected ways.

The brightest light source was the tablet sitting across the toy grand piano. Its screen displayed a lurid assortment of large icons and words.

Junior could tell Ludwig and Black bought everything from Lemmy's online stimming supplies store and decorated the room to look as far from a hospital as possible.

The bed resembled a tan cave made of mesh pillow material, just the right size for a Koopa child to crawl in and feel hidden while still able to be seen by his parents.

Wolfgang sat on the floor, tapping at a toy piano with two chubby fingers tipped in sharp claws. A green chew tube stuck out of both sides of his mouth, the rest of its length hung draped across the back of his neck, and his thick legs poked out through a pair of what appeared to be dark orange swim trunks.

He was a huge kid, already taller and broader than Lemmy at only three years old, and he looked ghostly in the dimly lit room. Thick, deep red silicone bands were wrapped around his wrists, their color standing out against his white scales. His fine, feathery white hair fell around his face and the back of his head, and those bushy white eyebrows of his would give old Captain Capaldi some staunch competition.

Something Ludwig's photos didn't show— horns. They were stubs barely visible behind his twin waterfalls of hair, but he was destined to have a magnificent pair of horns by adulthood.

Wolfgang's pink eyes flicked Junior's way for a split second. Junior sat on the floor by the pale Koopa child, watching him play.

Wolfgang started to rock back and forth, tail twitching against the brown carpet as he rubbed his claws swiftly up and down his plastron.

"Hi, Wolfgang," Junior said, keeping his voice soft.

The boy's hands continued their journey, claws clacking against his plastron without damaging it. His tail thumped an arcane rhythm as the tip swung to and fro.

Junior tried turning to the side and spoke again, "I'm Junior. Ludwig is my big brother. Remember me?"

At Ludwig's name, Wolfgang touched the thumb of his open hand to his forehead and hooked his fingers near the side of his head.

Junior mimicked the gesture. "Is that what you named him? What about Black?"

Grunting, Wolfgang signed dad again and cupped his bicep.

"Ohh, I see!" Junior copied him again. He grinned, careful not to make direct eye contact. "Your dads love you."

Wolfgang grunted like he knew and tapped the middle C key.

Junior tapped middle C twice. He wasn't a pianist, but he knew how to read music and find his way around the piano keys.

Wolfgang played E, so Junior did, too. He groaned low in his throat, brought his hands down to roll a stunning C minor chord, followed it with F major and transitioned to A minor. There was a budding musician in that brain of his.

Junior played the A minor chord wrong on purpose. Wolfgang growled as he tugged his thumb into the correct position and shoved his hand down as if telling him to get it right.

"Oops! I'm sorry, I did it wrong." Junior played it correctly to show his 'lesson' was learned. "My dad used to play piano. He taught Ludwig how. Now it looks like Ludwig is teaching you how."

Wolfgang gripped Junior's wrist, pushed his spiked wristband up an inch and pressed two fingers over his pulse. His fluffy white eyebrows flicked up and down.

He swiped through the icons on his tablet to tap one.

"Doctor. Doctor. Doctor. Doctor." The tablet gave him a perfect little boy voice.

"Nope, I'm not a doctor." Junior shook his head. "My brother Larry is a doctor."

Wolfgang pulled his hand to the tablet.

Junior pieced slowly through the icons until he found the right one to identify himself.

"Uncle."

Wolfgang touched two icons. "King. Uncle. King. Uncle."

Junior nodded. "Yes, I'm both."

"No!" Wolfgang pinched his fingers together. He signed it snappily, the way Ludwig did when irritated. His tail thudded on the floor as he fiddled with his tablet screen.

"King. Me. Me. Me. King. King. King. Me. King."

"Ohhhh." Junior stood up and bowed. "You want to be king? You are the king! King Wolfgang."

Wolfgang rocked back, jumped up and stomped around his room, screeching and flapping his hands. He spat out his chewy tube as he barreled into Junior's lap.

"King Wolfgang," Wolfgang signed. His sign name was three fingers moving down near his mouth, symbolizing his three tusk-like front teeth.

Black poked his head in since Wolfgang's jog shook the floor enough to warrant a check-in.

"What are you doing?" He signed it informally by pinching upward at the air with thumb and forefinger.

"I declared him king and he likes it." Junior signed back, smiling. It was interesting trying to sign around an exuberantly flailing toddler who wanted to take his pulse again.

"Peh-peh-peh-peh?" Wolfgang waved and imitated the noise Black made to get peoples' attention. When Black focused on him, he signed, "I, king."

Black gave a sweeping bow. "Yes, king!"

Wolfgang signed something Junior didn't catch.

Nodding, Black focused on Junior. "He wants his diaper changed. Can we have privacy?"

Wait, those shorts were diapers?

"Yes." Junior signed back. Looking down at Wolfgang, he said, "Your daddy will change your diaper, okay? I'm going into the other room."

Wolfgang wriggled to his feet.

The diapers were a brand called Runners, designed specifically for autistic Koopas of all ages. That explained why they resembled swimming shorts. Their cloth outer layer muffled the crinkly diaper noises and the Velcro tabs and the sides and over the tail opening blended into the fabric.

Wolfgang chose a purple one from the bag. He moved onto the dark red changing pad Black laid down and placed his hand on the standing mirror nearby.

Black looked up at Junior and signed, "He feels safe if he can see what I do. I think he was sexually abused by his mother or a woman caretaker. The UTI was a result of forceful object insertion."

His eyes welled up as he talked about it. He paused, waving his hand to show he wasn't done.

"Please keep it quiet. Ludwig will tell Cherry about it so she doesn't get hurt, but Wolfgang shouldn't be known as the abandoned, abused autistic Baby X. Let him be Wolfgang, a son who is loved."

Junior's jaw dropped. He flicked his hand past his snout to express his shock. "Wow! Poor little guy! I hope he's too young to remember what happened to him."

Black lowered his head, gesturing. "We can't know what he does and doesn't remember. I made peace with knowing he may never tell us what happened. All I can do is love him and show him he is safe now."

Wolfgang pushed the diaper insistently at Black. He laid on his belly on the pad and watched the mirror, trusting. A friable, painful trust.

Junior nodded in understanding and left, granting them privacy.

Ludwig and Cherry sat together on the dark blue canvas sofa, which was covered in silver throw pillows. The black lace on them looked like Roy's bobbin work.

"…and that's why we're careful about bringing women over."

"That's incredible." Cherry pressed her hands together, brow knit. "I read the whole ClawBook saga about him with Junior. Bringing him home had to be so hard at first."

"It took months to establish communication with him. He only let Black near him at first, so Black did all the feeding, bathing and anything requiring touch. I stayed in the room for those things, to help him understand that I wasn't there to hurt him. I worked up to holding his hand while Black did the work, and then we switched. Now I can touch him without him panicking. He seeks my touch, too, which is miraculous. I'm always grateful for it when he does that."

Ludwig sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "The trauma he endured is beyond unconscionable. Lemmy had it hard as a kid, too, but not like that. Wolfgang is so young."

He sat back on the couch, legs crossed and hands folded on his knee.

Cherry lowered her eyes. She licked her lips. "Has he tried to talk at all?"

"No, but he makes noises. Black and I keep offering him ways to communicate. We don't care if he never utters a spoken word. Our priority is his ability to express himself, regardless of how it looks or sounds."

She nodded in agreement. "Gosh, who would abandon a little kid like him?"

"A piece of shit," Junior replied.

Black shouted, "Yo!"

Booming footsteps approached.

Ludwig swung his leg down and sat up straight. "Incoming."

Wolfgang raced up the hall and thrust his hand towards Ludwig's face. Ludwig caught his wrist, kissed his palm over and over and blew a raspberry on it like Bowser used to do to Lemmy's belly. Wolfgang shrieked in delight. His laugh was an amazing sound, a cross between coughing and a camera shutter clicking.

"I, king!" He signed.

"Really?" Ludwig raised his eyebrows.

"King!" Wolfgang signed again.

"You are a mighty king." Ludwig signed back before he kissed his other hand.

"Aw, I love his little teeth!" Cherry exclaimed, beaming. "Wolfgang, you're so cute!"

Wolfgang gripped Cherry's wrist, taking her pulse. His pale pink eyes searched her up and down. He cocked his head, as if he pulled information into one part of his brain and dumped it into another to make sense of it.

"Hello." She cradled his hand, which was broader than hers. "I'm Cherry. I'm a human, that's why I look different than everybody else."

He sniffed her hand, patted it, signed soft and toddled off towards the kitchen. The wall next to the refrigerator had an assortment of cards stuck on it via Velcro.

Black smiled fondly from the hallway door, signing. "You are the first woman to not frighten him on sight."

Junior interpreted for her.

"Maybe it's because I'm not a Koopa." Cherry said, which Junior interpreted for Black.

She clutched her chest and signed awkwardly. "He is beautiful."

Black wiggled his fist up and down in agreement.

Wolfgang came back to the couch holding a card displaying a glass of orange juice. Ludwig pushed his glasses up on his snout and peered at it.

"Orange juice?" He nodded, signing as he spoke. "Yes. You can have orange juice."

Ludwig followed Wolfgang back into the kitchen. He walked him slowly through each step of getting the carton out, pouring it into his red sippy cup with its two handles, snapping the lid on, closing the carton and putting it away again.

Wolfgang only approximated those steps by touching the items while Ludwig did the work, but he closed the fridge at the end and signed, "finish!"

Ludwig wiggled his hands in deaf applause and passed him the cup.

Wolfgang sat on the kitchen floor by the fridge to drink it. He kept looking at his feet and up at Cherry. Black casually stepped over him as he washed his hands in the sink and got down the pots for dinner.

Wolfgang passed him his sippy cup to wash after he finished his orange juice.

Ludwig tapped Black's shoulder and signed, "What's on the menu?"

"Meat pies. I mixed it with marrow." Black signed back. He kissed his nose.

Over ten years married, and they still looked at each other like they did saying their vows.

Junior gazed at Cherry, watching her watch them. He blushed when she caught him. She giggled, running a hand over his hair.

"What's on your mind, handsome?"

"You." Junior smiled, taking her hand. "I love you."

Her cheeks flushed. She kissed his nose and whispered in his ear, "I love you, too."

Black invited them to stay for dinner, so they did. They all ate while Wolfgang played with a glitter tube on the floor by the refrigerator. Ludwig said he liked the sound of appliances humming.

Black cut Wolfgang's pie up into mush to let it cool off. Then Ludwig sat on the floor in front of him and fed it to him one forkful at a time. Wolfgang rubbed his claws along his plastron while he chewed each bite.

It took Junior back in his memory, when Morton spoon fed Bowser Meat-Meal in intensive care. He remembered fearing his dad would never wake up past that minimally conscious state. But he did, and lived another nine years.

Watching Ludwig tenderly feed Wolfgang, and recalling how softly Morton cradled tiny Aretha to his chest, were testaments to the love Bower left behind.

"Finished!" Ludwig signed after the last bite.

"Finished!" Wolfgang signed back.

"Where does the plate go?"

Wolfgang put it on the table, stopped, thought better of it and took it to the sink where Black washed dishes.

"Good job!" Black signed with gusto. He high-foured him and ruffled his feathery white hair.

Wolfgang rubbed his plastron at light speed, signaling his joy.

After dinner, Junior watched Cherry laugh herself silly as Black crawled around on the floor with Wolfgang sitting on his shell.

"I love seeing him be a dad," Ludwig murmured. "First time I thought of the possibility was when you were ten and 'terping between him and Cherry. He's so good with kids."

"I remember that," Cherry turned her smile onto Ludwig, then Junior. "Do you?"

Junior kissed her as he replied, "Yeah."

She giggled, covering her face, "Oh, gosh, I just remembered! I had you convinced that I asked Black if you were stinky!"

He laughed with her, "I remember that. You called me stinky!"

"Yes! But it was to cover up that I called you cute. I asked Bowser how to sign 'cute', and I told Black you're cute."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ludwig smiled deviously, tilting his head down and looking up at him from beneath his blue eyebrows.

"I saw the whole thing and understood dad's plan."

Cherry wrapped her arms around Junior's bicep and gazed up at him in total adoration. "Plan or not, I liked him already."

Junior waggled his eyebrows at her and nodded his head towards Black. "You know what it's like to marry your crush, right, Ludwig?"

"Oh, yes," Ludwig smirked. "No regrets."

Junior's face heated when he nuzzled his nose into Cherry's hair. "Same. Yeah, Cherry, the crush was mutual."

Next to them, Black retracted into his shell while Wolfgang banged on it like a bongo. Ludwig pointed, laughed and grabbed his phone to take video.

.o

Soft pen scraping stirred Cherry awake at two in the morning. Junior's desk light was on, most of it blocked by his huge, spiked shell. Koopa necks bent at angles humans only dreamed of, so from her perspective he appeared to not have a head.

She relaxed on her side, studying how his reddish-orange hair cascaded along the top of his shell like a waterfall.

"What're you doing?" She yawned.

He startled, glancing over his shoulder. "Boom-Boom keeps bugging me to design my royal collar, so I am."

"At two in the morning?"

"I woke up with the idea. Didn't want to lose it."

Cherry got out of bed, her dark hair messily sticking out every which way. She peered over his shoulder at his doodle.

Junior was as inclined to drawing as Ludwig was to music. He had a knack for art, yet rarely showed it off.

"What's the red one?" Cherry pointed to a separate piece of paper.

"Oh, I'm sending that to Lemmy to make. It's a little present for Wolfgang."

She studied it, grinned and scratched her fingernails along his shoulders in delight. "He'll love it! What about yours?"

He showed it to her, and her smile grew.

"Oh, Junior, that is so you."

.o

Lemmy completed the adjustable collar in two weeks. All silicone, even the gray spikes, and the back had a quick-release buckle. Junior asked for dark red to match Wolfgang's wristbands. Silver letters outlined in black were arranged between each spike to spell out KING WOLFGANG.

Ludwig arranged the visit for an early morning, and Junior showed up via warp zone carrying the collar on a velvet purple cushion.

"You're going all-out." Ludwig grinned at the collar, his eyes sparkling in delight.

"This is the coronation cushion, too, they don't know I took it."

"You sneak." Ludwig closed the front door against the chilly morning air.

Junior winked. "He's worth it."

Wolfgang was draped across a multicolored bean bag chair in the middle of the floor with his tablet nearby. His black 'trunks' had yellow cartoon star and planet designs. He sucked his thumb as he watched Ludwig's phone, which displayed Bowser reading Peter Piranha Gets A Boo-Boo.

Junior's expression softened at hearing his dad's voice, and he almost shed a tear when Wolfgang hummed at the goofy high-pitched voice he did for Peter Piranha's dialogue.

Ludwig let the video finish before he knelt to pat the top of Wolfgang's shell. "Junior is here."

No visible reaction. Junior had enough experience with Lemmy to know that didn't mean a lack of attention.

"He had a bad night last night," Ludwig signed as he sat on the couch.

"What happened?" Junior furrowed his brow.

"A string of meltdowns. I'm not sure what triggered them." Ludwig yawned as he signed. "Black sent me to bed and took care of him and had him calm by around five o'clock, and then I took over. Wolfgang freaked out anytime he was left alone."

"Geez, poor kid! But, wait, isn't Black supposed to be on duty?" Junior raised his eyebrows.

Ludwig reached for his rainbow coffee mug. The same one he always had, with the bold black text on the side that read, I can't hear you over the sound of how fucking gay I am.

He sipped, signing one-handed, "Black was up with Wolfgang all night and knew his driving abilities were compromised, so he called out today. His employers followed the news stories, so they respect our situation."

Pausing, he took another sip and added, "Being deaf and living in this penthouse works to our advantage. This little guy's screaming can't hurt our ears and there's ten feet of concrete between us and the neighbors below."

He slurped a third sip before setting the mug down and using both hands to sign again. "Sometimes I wonder if his biological parents went through the kind of nights we did and thought abandoning him in the wilderness was the answer. Fucking horrible people."

He signed what translated into fucking horrible with such emphasis that his claws scraped loudly against each other and his knuckle bones made an audible clack.

"It was their loss, your gain," Junior signed back, jaw clenched to show he matched the anger. He brightened his expression, a change of tone to something calm and loving. "Now Wolfgang is surrounded by people who will love him for who he is."

"Yes!" Ludwig waved his fist emphatically.

Junior placed the cushion on the floor in Wolfgang's line of sight and laid on his belly alongside him.

"Hi, Wolfgang. I brought a present."

Wolfgang popped his head up and grasped the corner of the cushion. Junior noticed he soaked the world in through his peripheral vision first, the visual equivalent to dipping his toe in water to decide if the temperature was conducive to swimming or not.

He took his thumb out of his mouth, pushed Ludwig's phone away and patted an icon on his tablet.

"King. King. I. King."

"That's right." Junior tilted the collar up to show him the letters. "It says King Wolfgang, so everybody will know you're king!"

Wolfgang maintained his grip on the velvet cushion when he sat up to rub his claws up and down his plastron chest.

Ludwig swiped his phone and slid onto the couch, surreptitiously recording.

Junior swung himself into a sitting position and unhooked the buckle holding the collar in a circle. He signed what he said, just to give the boy two modes of receiving information.

"Kings have to make a special promise, so we'll make it together, okay?"

Wolfgang grunted and sucked his thumb again.

There were more than one oath, but Junior chose the one he found the most important.

"Do you promise to protect everybody you love with the fire in your belly and the blood in your veins?"

When Wolfgang squawked at him, he smiled, eyebrows raised, "You do? Me, too! Can I put this on you?"

He slipped the collar around his nephew's neck and snapped the buckle together. It fit loose at its smallest size, and it would take him at least ten years to fully outgrow it.

"Then by the power vested in me, I declare you King Wolfgang Amadeus Koopason of the Koopa-Mushroom empire."

Junior bent low in a sweeping bow, as did Ludwig.

Wolfgang rocked back and forth, flapping his hands in the air near his face. He tapped his tablet and signed with the same hand.

"King. King. I. King."

His pink eyes squinted as he screeched at the top of his lungs.

Junior was the only one who could hear it. He let out a shriek of his own and imitated Wolfgang's hand flapping.

"You did it! You're a king!"

Wolfgang launched himself into Junior's lap. Junior rocked back at having seventy pounds of Koopa toddler land on him. He brushed Wolfgang's feathery-soft white hair backwards off his face and kissed his forehead.

"This kid has an amazing set of eyebrows. Yeah, Wolfgang, your eyebrows are awesome."

"Everything about him is adorable." Ludwig switched his phone off and moved his glasses to wipe his eyes.

Sobering, he said, "Dad had his first heart attack twenty years ago today."

Junior blinked at how long ago that seemed.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. I ran you upstairs to my room and taught you swear words in Koopa Sign while they worked on him." Ludwig's eyes lost focus. "You were so young, Junior."

"So were you." Junior let Wolfgang climb off his lap and onto Ludwig's.

Ludwig embraced his son against his chest and nuzzled their cheeks together. Bowser used to do that.

"Someday you'll know how much I love you," he murmured in Wolfgang's ear. "My dad said it to me all the time when I was little. I had to meet you to understand what he meant."

Wolfgang folded his legs against his stomach like pretzels. He sucked his thumb and stared into Ludwig's eyes as if studying his soul.

Junior grabbed Ludwig's phone, took a picture of them looking adoringly at each other and texted Black.

Hey sexy husband! Look how cute we are.

Ludwig fake-scowled. Junior smirked.

"That's for texting Cherry."

"I forgot about that." Ludwig chuckled, shaking his head. "It's been a wild time since your wedding. Sometimes I can't keep it straight in my head."

"You're gay, there's nothing to keep straight."

"You speak ancient truths, little brother."

The phone vibrated. Black replied with several winking emojis, Yes, our son is very cute, but you are an irresistible DILF.

Junior howled in laughter. He would've played keep-away with the phone if Ludwig didn't have Wolfgang calm in his lap. Instead, he put the phone back on the couch and tried desperately to get a lid on his mellifluous mirth.

Ludwig checked his phone, smirked at Junior and put it down. "And you're supposedly the king of two lands, you brat."

Wolfgang signed, "I, king! More king!"

Black walked out with rumpled hair at that exact moment. Junior's feeble self-control failed, and he laughed so hard he snorted.

"What happened to him?" Black signed to Ludwig.

Ludwig showed him the texts, signing one-handed. "He sent that, and you answered thinking it was me."

"DILF!" Junior finger spelled.

Black snickered, swiped the coronation cushion off the floor and dropped it on Junior's snorting, guffawing face.

"Your majesty, you are a bastard," he gestured, waving the cushion threateningly.

Junior signed in a series of twitches, "You're hitting me with the official coronation pillow!"

Black's face morphed into something between horror and hilarity. He settled on hilarity, and bonked Junior with the cushion again.

"Good, maybe it'll knock the royal sense into you."

"I doubt it. Getting married didn't help, he's a lost cause," Ludwig signed over Wolfgang's head.

They cracked up together, with Wolfgang looking around at them as if they lost their minds.

.o

Exactly one year later, Junior brought Cherry with him for his five year Crash checkup. His heart fully matured, so it was time to ascertain whether or not the stents placed after his tenth hatch-day dissolved and fulfilled their purpose.

That morning, he did something he never did before— he ate a few bites of ash toast before his appointment. Surely that wouldn't be a problem! It stopped the hungry gurgling in his stomach. Nobody had to know, right?

Neil introduced a young Koopa Troopa named Billie, who would replace him as the castle cardiologist after he retired. Billie was a sprightly young lady who wore brown boots and gloves, and had an orange scarf draped around her neck. Her prosthetic shell boasted a shiny brick red finish decorated with a subtle orange marble pattern.

She pointed to Freddie and Elton as they giggled their way past the office door, and Junior noticed her gold wedding band.

"You've got some strange fruit growing around here."

"Darling, we know you love us!" Freddie peeked in.

"Don't make me tie you down." Billie teased back.

"We can fly," Elton winked, "So good luck."

"Scram! I'm working."

The three of them laughed. Neil facepalmed in the background.

Cherry covered a snicker with her hand. "Is it always like this?"

"It's worse." Neil grumbled good-naturedly.

"We're like family here," Junior told her.

Billie's phone chirped.

"Sorry!" She checked it and her eyes softened. "It's Vanessa. Mind if I brag to her for a minute?"

"Go ahead." Junior gave Neil a look that stopped him from protesting.

Billie swiped and answered. "Hi, babe. I'm shadowing Neil on a patient right now. You'll never believe who it is."

She smiled after a moment. "The king."

The response was so loud Junior heard it. He laughed heartily.

Billie grinned. She had a charming gap between her front teeth. "I'll see you to— oh, yes, I love it when you save the best for last, sweetheart. Love you, too. Bye."

Pink rose into her cheeks as she tucked her phone away. She wiggled her wedding ring finger. "My wife. So, shall we commence?"

Junior laid back for the lengthy echocardiogram— his valves all functioned as they should, none were stenosed and the mitral stopped prolapsing— and he braced himself to get poked before the angiogram.

Judy did his needle sticks, so they barely hurt.

"Hey, Judy?" Junior asked as the sedative kicked in.

"Yes, sire?"

"Will you do my blood poke for the coronation goblet?"

"I'll be honored." She pressed his hand.

Like everyone else, age reached her, too. She walked slower, her spine more stooped over.

Cherry laid on the gurney and held Junior all the way to the doors of the cath lab. He remembered the times he climbed onto the gurney to hug his dad. A lump welled in his throat at the memories flooding through him.

He said, "I sat there when dad had his heart attacks."

She stroked his hair when he teared up. It was in a topknot— she did it for him to make it easier to contain in a sterile cap later.

"It'll be okay, Junior."

Junior kissed her. He took her tiny hand in his huge one and rested it over his heart.

"I know. Just…dad was alive the last time I had this done. There's a lot of bad memories here. Great people, bad memories. Kinda sucks, huh?"

"Yeah, but you're a tough guy and you'll get through this." Cherry hugged him tighter, her soft skin like rose petals against his side. "I love you."

He breathed in the cherry scent of her hair. "I love you, too."

She pressed her lips to the side of his head near his horn. "Here's something to think about. Next time, you'll do this in the new castle. It won't be the same place where your dad went through all this."

The thought comforted him more than she would ever know, and that steel trap brain of hers was one more wonderful thing he loved about her.

They were moving out in a month. Out into the completed castle Bowser started on the border between the Darklands and the Mushroom kingdoms. He toured it two weeks ago, marveling at the ingenuity of two kingdoms blending their architecture. A true fusion.

All children left the nest eventually. Junior was the last one.

The gurney stopped rolling by the double silver doors.

"It's time to go, your highness," Billie said gently.

Junior nodded, kissing Cherry one more time before she had to climb down. Cherry, with her big nose, freckles, dark hair, beautiful blue eyes and her caring, sweet heart.

He smiled to look brave.

The doors swung with a decisive whump.

After that, things were fuzzy. Junior remembered sniffling when he thought he was alone.

"Aw, hon, what is it?" Billie's voice spoke from across the room.

"Just missing my dad," Junior's voice cracked.

She wasn't scrubbed in yet, so she came up to the gurney and patted his hand. Her eyes were gentle and reassuring.

"Grief is like standing in the surf when a giant wave knocks you off your feet. You get rolled around, scraping across rocks and don't know which way is up."

"Yup," Junior wiped at his eyes with his thumbs. "Sure feels like it."

She offered him a handful of tissues pulled from somewhere behind the head of the gurney. "The waves don't get smaller. We get better at watching for them, and we get better at bracing ourselves when they hit. But the big ones that slam us by surprise stink, don't they?"

"Sure do. This one beat me up pretty good." Junior gratefully dabbed his eyes. "I'll be okay."

Her hand withdrew. There was a smile in her voice. "All right, hon. I'll scrub in and see you in a bit."

"Hey! Hold on, one question."

"Eh?"

"What does Vanessa do?"

Billie smiled, "She's an accountant."

"Nice!"

Thirty minutes later, the shadow of Junior's heart beat on the screen as Billie manipulated the catheter with Neil watching over her. Her soothing voice kept everyone calm.

Junior came out of his angiogram nauseated enough to ask for a puke bag. Cherry held his hand while he endured the queasy stomach.

"I nibbled two bites of toast," he confessed. "Two bites, how is that making me so sick?"

"The meds affect digestion, that's why," Celine said. "Sit tight, I'll help."

She brought him Piranha leaf tea steaming in a mug. Walking became too painful for her over the years. She zoomed around in a motorized wheelchair similar to Scott's, except she could press a button to transform it into a standing frame.

"So, you thought sneaking toast was going to be fine?" Celine eyed him suspiciously while he sipped his tea. "Hmph. I'm six whole inches taller in this thing, so don't make me pop you in the nose for misbehaving."

"I learned by watching my dad." Junior grinned, eyes softening.

"He was a terrible teacher."

"I know. Hey, didn't you and Pat just have your anniversary?"

"Mmhmm." Celine fiddled with her gold locket. "Fifty-three years!"

She pulled the heart shape open to reveal herself and Pat— much younger, and wearing crowns of white baby's breath blossoms— kissing tenderly at their wedding as rainbow confetti rained down.

"Wow!" Cherry eyed Junior, "We have a lot to live up to, don't we?"

Celine pulled her close and whispered in her ear, "The secret is don't kill each other."

They giggled.

She focused on Junior next. "I'll be retired by the time you move, but I'll come to the coronation. I had to be here for this checkup."

Junior held her tiny four-fingered hand. "Celine, you're the best."

A day later, Junior learned the stents put in when he was ten widened his main coronary arteries enough to be nearly indistinguishable from a non-Crash heart. They dissolved completely, leaving behind a proliferation of extra coronary blood vessels.

All he had to worry about was the sclerosis later. There were already drugs on the market to help combat it thanks to Larry's research. If he developed dilated cardiomyopathy, it would be very late in life.

"We did it." Neil handed his tablet over to Billie. "Sire, meet your new cardiologist. You're my final patient."

That explained why all his diplomas were replaced by nails inside faint rectangular outlines in the blue-gray wallpaper. The desk held new knickknacks, like a pink heart-shaped lamp in the corner.

A temporary setup, since her true office would be in Junior's new castle.

Junior blinked back tears when he looked down at Neil.

Doctor Neil, with his red shell, red platform boots and tired, hopeful eyes. He extended his hand for a handshake. Junior accepted it. The hand he held seemed tinier than Aretha's when he grasped it. That hand wielded the scalpels and catheters that kept his dad's heart beating for over a decade, and that same hand removed it from his body after it stopped forever.

"Thank you, Neil, for everything." Those were paltry words and he knew it. Junior glanced at Billie, "You only pick the best."

Billie's face lit up in a brilliant smile.

Neil gestured to the heart-shaped lamp. "Billie, turn on your heart light. This is your office now."

She did. It made a happy glow for all the world to see.

Junior opened the door to leave the office and almost crashed into Josh, who just raised his thermos to drink.

"Oof!" Josh coughed as he leapt backwards. "Sorry, your majesty!"

He knocked into Stevie, who dropped a Manila folder. Papers splashed across the floor.

"Watch it!" She snapped.

Josh chased after the papers. "My bad."

Cherry knelt to help him arrange the pages back into order. "I drop papers like this all the time, I'm a pro at sort— oh! It's Junior's medical file. This'll be easy!"

Stevie sighed, adjusting her blue shawl. "It's been a morning. How are you?"

Junior grinned, all teeth, "I'm gonna live a long life."

Her face lit up. "Best news I heard all day!"

.o

"It's like a bandage. I just have to do it."

"You sure you're up for it?"

"Yeah."

Cherry stood in the doorway while Junior, his tail still bandaged from the angiogram a week ago, opened the bottom drawer of Bowser's dresser. The first things he pulled out were plastic bags labeled with his siblings' names. Their contents looked like a bunch of scales.

"Our first molts." Junior murmured, turning the bags over in his hands. "Shell plates and body scales."

"Gosh." Cherry held Junior's bag up next to his back. The shell scales were smaller than his spikes now. "You used to be so tiny."

He grinned roguishly in that specifically Junior way, making her heart turn over. No matter how much he grew up, his troublemaker smile never changed.

"Hey, so were you, and you still are."

"Compared to you, maybe." She giggled, giving him the bag back.

Next, papers drawn on in crayons. Pictures of Bowser lying on a gray bed with lines scribbled around him representing ventilator tubes, IVs and ECG leads. He was positioned differently in each one, with nurses tending to him.

Cherry recognized each nurse by their shells. Especially Elton, since Junior drew on his wild tinted glasses and wings.

Junior's eyes softened and teared up. "I was four when I did these. This was after his first heart attack. I didn't know dad kept them."

Cherry found a stray picture under the rest and pulled it out. "What's this one?"

"Ack!" Junior swiped it and turned it facedown, red-faced.

"Junior!" She laughed, "What is it?"

"It's embarrassing."

"Even better."

"Ugh."

Junior let her look. It was the moment he handed her a yellow tulip. He gave her a round nose like Mario's and used a pen to add her freckles.

The red flush on his cheeks spread to his whole snout. "I, um, I always liked your nose."

"Me, too, I can use it to drill people who annoy me." Cherry poked the tip of her nose, giggled and hugged his arm. "You're being adorable."

Junior twisted his head around to kiss the end of her nose. She gave his topknot ponytail a little tug and nuzzled her face against his cheek.

"Can I keep this?"

"Sure." He passed her the sheet.

Cherry set it on the dresser to grab later.

She sifted through hangers while she checked the closet. The best man tux was hung up in a clear bag, but a black bag caught her eye. When she unzipped it, she beheld a white and purple satin tuxedo with sequins on the lapels.

"Hm." Cherry zipped the tuxedo back into its bag and put both in the white chest under the window.

There were other clothing items in there, mostly sports jerseys. Bowser's shoes were massive. He wore the same shoe size as Junior.

Cherry reached for the paintings of Bowser's kids as babies, wrapped them carefully in tissue paper and placed them in a smaller brown chest by the bed.

Bit by bit, Bowser's bedroom disappeared.

"Huh, he still has an old MP3 player." Junior closed a drawer and tucked the earbuds into his auricles. "It plays. There's music."

The device looked like a small silver cylinder with buttons on the top and bottom. He clicked through a bunch of files— Bowser was horrible about naming them— and stopped on one simply titled SWOTR.

Within seconds, his eyes glistened with tears.

"Cherry." Junior said.

She took the gold earbud he held out. It wouldn't fit in her ear, so she held it against her head like a phone.

Junior restarted the song from the beginning.

It was Bowser singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. He sang it so tenderly, like he wanted his raspy deep voice to exude the love he felt for his children.

"I almost forgot what his singing sounded like," Junior sniffled, wiping his palms across his face. "He never played or sang a single note again after Peach died."

Cherry laid her head on Junior's shoulder and smiled despite the lump aching in her throat. "Maybe he's singing to mom right now."

"I hope so." His huge hand enveloped hers in warmth. "I miss him, Cherry."

Bowser's absence loomed in the room like a vacuum pulling everything towards it.

"Me, too." She pressed her palm against the pad of his thumb.

The grief wave ran them both over, throwing them against the rocks. They gave in to it and had a good, long cry together.

.o

Moving was as chaotic as one expected. Junior got a good laugh watching tiny, two year old Aretha attempt to pull on a box twice her size. She tried so hard she had an accident. Her horrified wide eyes made it even funnier. The poor kid ran wailing towards the hallway bathroom right behind her.

Larry came through, slipped on the turd and almost fell face-first onto the floor. The boxes full of linens in his arms went flying. He stumbled into the wall, looked at the brown smear on the ground, eyed his foot and groaned.

"Well, crap," Junior guffawed.

"Very funny." Larry wiped his foot on the floor, smearing it more.

Aretha bolted out of the hall bathroom. "Uncle Larry! I boo-booed!"

"I noticed." Larry scooped up the box he dropped, put everything that fell out back in and set it among the chests on the wagon nearby.

Junior scrambled across Cherry's path when she strolled in holding two canvas bags.

"Uhh, watch where you walk."

"Oh, sure, you'll warn her," Larry balked and folded his arms, only half-serious.

"Warn me about what?" Cherry craned her neck to peer around Junior as Aretha shoved a smaller box at the wagon. "What stinks in here?"

"Uh…" Junior grinned puckishly, "Larry pooped on the floor."

Aretha burst out laughing. She had an adorable laugh, like flocks of birds.

Larry rolled his eyes.

Cherry wrinkled her nose. "I thought you farted."

"Larry farted." Junior said, utilizing his best straight face.

"What is this? Blame-me-for-everything day?" Larry flicked his tail.

"Yup. You have the kind of face that gets blamed for everything."

"Asswipe." He picked up the box Aretha struggled with, took the wagon by the handle and tugged it towards the elevator platform beside stairs.

"Oooh! You said a bad word!" Aretha shook her finger at Larry as he descended.

She ran back into the hall after he was out of sight.

Cherry shook her head and passed Junior the canvas bags. "I saved all our legal documents in one place. Oof, they're heavy!"

"Whoa, thanks!" Junior accepted the bags without effort. She rescued him from hours of headaches and frustration.

He kissed her nose and placed those bags in the other wagon holding paper supplies, since they all went into the study.

She grinned and winked before grabbing paper towels to clean up the mess Aretha made.

Downstairs, Jack set a tall brown box in Scott's lap.

"Hey!" Scott pushed his cream colored cowboy hat up off his forehead. "I can't see where I'm going!"

"Oh, no, how tragic for you," Jack added another box to Scott's lap.

"No fair, you're used to it! And can't you see a little bit?"

"I was a high myopic. Now I have a blurry visual field the size of a straw, and it isn't very useful unless it's close up work."

"Hmph."

Scott backed his wheelchair up as Jack went to place a plastic crate atop the pile on his lap. The crate clattered onto the floor, spilling candles everywhere.

"I'm gonna tie your stumps together and hang you from the rafters," Jack muttered.

"Stop hitting on me, Jack. I'm taken, and he's cute."

"Your mind is in the gutter."

"You started it."

Wendy passed through, pulling a wagon of crates. She gathered up the mess they made, took the box off Scott's lap and added it to the pile on the wagon.

"Ugh! Boys are so stupid sometimes. I'll take that."

The wagon wheels squeaked as she resumed her warpath towards the temporary warp zone pipe built next to the front entrance.

"I love it when she gets mean," Jack smirked.

Scott bonked him with his cowboy hat and pointed to more crates by the wall. "C'mon, let's get that stuff over there loaded."

"Right, just point to things I can't see. Nice, Scott."

Lemmy somersaulted out of the warp zone. "Guys, I found more of my balls in a sack!"

Scott snickered. Jack covered his mouth. Lemmy's face went bright red. All three guffawed.

Faint giggling in the throne room caught Junior's attention. When he went to peek, he found Wolfgang sitting on Bowser's old throne, which was back in its original central location on the dais.

Wolfgang grew to be a hulking four year old who already took up half the throne seat. Next to him, Aretha looked absolutely tiny.

He sat sideways with his legs pretzeled around his tail in a way that only seemed comfortable for him. That day, he wore dark gray 'trunks' currently covered in crumbs.

Aretha laughed uproariously while she fed him crunchy ash banana chips from a ziplock baggie. He didn't do anything if she put them in his hands, but he gobbled them up whenever she held one in front of his nose.

"All done!" Aretha clumsily signed finish after he ate the last chip.

Wolfgang went back to munching on his green chew tube and peering at the paintings of Bowser hung up around the room. The throne room was next on Junior's list to clear out, but he decided it could wait a little longer.

Ludwig texted him asking if he saw Wolfgang. Junior sent back a photo of him content in Bowser's throne with Aretha as a dark blurry shape running circles around him.

He went to Wendy to get his diaper changed. A first. Ludwig's next text read.

Junior grinned, replying with a smiley and thumbs up emoji.

He climbed the stairs and sat on the floor by the throne where he used to sit whenever Bowser occupied it.

"That's your grandpa, you two."

Aretha scaled Junior's shell spikes to sit behind his head. "Daddy says he was funny."

"Oh, yeah, he sure was!" Junior smiled with a lump in his throat.

"Did he burp super loud like my daddy?"

"He taught your daddy how to burp like that."

"Really?"

"Yup!"

Abruptly, Wolfgang scooted off the throne, looked Junior in the eyes and threw himself against his chest in a tight embrace, like he knew this room bore unbearable sorrow.

"Thank you, Wolfgang." Junior returned the hug. He kissed his nephew's cheek. "My little king."

Wolfgang only met the eyes of people he trusted. It was an honor to be welcomed into that circle.

"Aww, are you sad, uncle Junior?" Aretha peered upside down at him.

"A little bit." Junior admitted, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

She spread out on his back, hugging his shell. "Daddy gets sad too. Why are you sad if somebody dies?"

Junior remembered looking down at her as an hour-old hatchling, knowing she knew nothing of grief or loss. There was no way to shield her from it forever.

"We get sad when people die because they can't talk to us and be with us anymore. It hurts because we miss them, and we miss them because we love them."

"How do you get better from it?" Aretha asked.

Kids. So innocent. Junior remembered being like that.

"It takes time," he said, dabbing tears out of his eyes before they fell. "Like when you get an owie on your knee. It hurts real bad when you first scrape it, and it hurts less as it scabs over. But it gets better."

"Owies hurt if you poke them." Aretha pointed out.

"Mmhmm! You're so smart."

Grief worked like that, though it was more complicated than a simple wound, but he wasn't about to blast the hopes of a toddler.

"Did grandpa fart really loud too? Daddy farts loud sometimes, it's funny!"

"Oh, yeah! He knew how to make them echo, too!"

"Wow! He was neat, huh?"

"Yup."

Junior gazed up at a painting of Bowser depicted in profile from the chest up, claws ready and teeth bared as he spat streams of fire from his jaws.

Wolfgang slapped his hands into Junior's shoulders to get his attention, and signed.

"Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow."

He did that a lot, signing random things, but in this case his gestures carried the weight of time.

Junior was the present peering at the past while embraced from both sides by the future. He met Wolfgang's pale pink eyes and nodded to show he understood.

"You're right, Wolfgang." He kissed his nephew's brow.

Everybody had paracosms inside them. Wolfgang was really good at offering glimpses of his without explanation, leaving everyone else to reach their own conclusions. He expressed it because his two dads loved him until he felt safe doing so.

And Junior chose to see him as wise.

.o

Cherry laid her last dress with the rest in a purple chest and closed the lid. She got a text from Mario, confirming her mom's official painting made it back to the Mushroom Castle where it belonged. Junior wanted to return it. Mario gratefully accepted, no questions asked.

Out in the hall, voices spoke over each other.

"Roy, where's the wagon full of dishes?"

"Dunno, Lemmy, I thought you had 'em."

"Iggy said you did."

"I said what?"

"I took that wagon."

"There, see? Pom-Pom had them. Calm down!" Roy walked past the door. "Hey, Morton! Where's the next load?"

Morton yanked the hall door open. "I'm taking a dump, do you mind?"

Roy snickered. "Close the door, you're gonna kill us!"

"Ack!" Lemmy coughed. "Ew!"

The chatter died down.

Cherry giggled against her hand and passed Morton some PineForest air freshener. He only opened the door wide enough to take the can.

She almost ran headlong into Black when she turned to go back into the bedroom. Black gazed at her with raw affection softening his expression. For the first time she noticed the lines around his eyes and mouth, and she wondered where all the time went.

Black laughed his wheezy laugh, which deepened those lines. He kissed her cheek and continued on his way, both muscular arms carrying two brown trash bags holding something clunky.

Iggy rushed up the stairs and froze at the top, his left hand clutching his chest. One moment he stared into Cherry's eyes, the next his face went blank and his pupils dilated like black holes.

"Iggy?" Cherry approached him, waving a hand by his face. Her heart leapt into her throat. "Iggy! Are you okay?"

Iggy didn't respond to her voice nor her movements. He blinked rapidly, fingers wiping against his plastron the way Wolfgang did when he got excited.

The toilet flushed and Morton emerged, pulling the door shut behind him. Wisps of fecal matter and pine trailed behind.

Cherry looked over her shoulder. "Morton! Is this a seizure?"

Morton blinked, unruffled. "Yup. Set a timer on your phone."

Iggy's jaw worked in chewing motions. Strings of drool dribbled between his teeth. He breathed in loud, hissing snores.

"It's okay, Iggster. Let's go sit." Morton took Iggy's hand and slowly guided him to sit on the floor by the wall. Iggy followed like a marionette. Half his face contorted. He let out a low, creaky moan.

"We're with you, Iggy." Cherry rubbed his hand.

Morton stuffed his hand into Iggy's shell by his shoulder, pulled out a chartreuse tube of something, twisted it open and squeezed the gel under his tongue.

He tossed the tube aside and turned to Cherry. "Rescue meds. They don't stop this seizure, but they stop him from having more after. What's your timer say?"

"Three minutes."

"Okay. He's not screaming, so he won't TC on us, but he's gonna look scary right about— here he goes."

Iggy's head twisted on his shoulders. His left arm jerked like he kept touching something hot and yanking his hand back. The croaking groan rising in his throat disturbed Cherry the most. It sounded painful.

"You'll be okay." She stroked his shoulder.

He shifted abruptly to lay on the floor with his chin on his folded hands. His eyelids fluttered behind his glasses.

"Time?" Morton asked.

"Four minutes thirty seconds."

"He's almost done."

"How do you know he's out of it?"

"He'll use words again. Watch what happens if I try now. Hey Iggy? Who's your niece?"

"Hm?" Iggy groaned.

"What's your niece's name?"

"Huh?"

"See?" Morton looked at Cherry.

Junior's footsteps slapped up the stairs. "What's up? Ooh, Iggy…"

"Focal seizure." Morton said, still calm as ever. "He's almost out of it now."

Junior crouched by Iggy's head and rubbed the side of his neck. "Aw, man, rough day, huh?"

"Hm?" Iggy sniffed. His pupils contracted to the right size for the ambient light.

"Iggy, who's your niece?" Morton asked him again.

Blinking, Iggy licked his chops. "Aretha."

"There you are." Morton gestured at Cherry to stop the timer on her phone. "Hey, you had a focal seizure."

"Oh." Iggy rubbed his nose, sniffing. He grimaced as if something hurt.

Junior shifted from rubbing Iggy's neck to cupping his shoulder in his palm. Iggy looked up at him through drooping, tired eyes.

"Uncle Iggy!" Aretha scrambled into the hallway. She looked like a shadow against the gray stone floor. "Did you fall?"

"Nope, sweetie pie. He had a seizure," Morton told her gently. "Don't crowd him. He doesn't feel good right now."

"Are we in the new castle yet?" Iggy mumbled.

Cherry laughed, more from relief than what he said. "Nope, not yet."

"Sorry you had a seeder," Aretha whispered in Iggy's ear.

He giggled, baring his sharp teeth, and abruptly passed out asleep. Nobody acted alarmed, so Cherry assumed that was normal.

Aretha patted Iggy's green plume of hair and kissed his cheek. "Daddy, he went sleepy-bye!"

"Uh-huh. Seizures make him tired."

Junior picked Iggy up bridal style and carried him into what used to be his bedroom. The slab of a bed was still there, so he laid him prone with a pillow under his head. He took his glasses off for him and set them on the nightstand.

Cherry filled the water glass in the bathroom and placed it by his glasses for him to wake up to. He breathed deep, his sides heaving with each slow inhale.

"Let's let him sleep," whispered Junior.

They padded out, pulling the door shut.

"He had an angio a couple days ago." Morton's toe claws scraped on the stone floor. "They pump him full of Ativan before and it stops him from having TCs as soon as he comes out, but…well, he ends up having a focal a few days later anyway."

"Why does that happen?" Cherry frowned.

"Beats me." Morton shrugged, glancing between her and Junior. "I guess something in the dye shuts off his Depakote. It's a body chemistry quirk of his, that doesn't usually happen to people."

"How's your heart looking?" Junior asked him.

Morton winked an eye shut and grinned, flashing his big teeth. "Me? Everything checked out, so I'm good."

They headed downstairs together.

Somebody went in every half hour to check on Iggy. Cherry refilled the water glass when she found he drank it between naps.

Iggy slept until dinnertime. When he came downstairs for the last meal everyone would share under this castle roof, the gathering tacitly brought the energy level down a few notches for his sake.

Cherry rushed over to hug Iggy when he appeared in the dining room doorway.

"You okay, Iggy?"

"Yeah. Tired, but I'm okay. TCs are worse." Iggy smiled self-consciously, adjusting his glasses. "Hang on, you never saw me seize before?"

Cherry shook her head. "I guess it means your seizure control is pretty good." She squinted one eye. "Can you hear what's going on during those?"

"Uhh, probably? My memory of it gets wiped out, so I can't say." He returned the hug by patting her back. "What's for dinner?"

Roy leaned out of the kitchen. "Birdo burgers and Cheep-Cheep strips! Black is cooking, I'm learning!"

"Black's burgers are to die for," Ludwig said as he sat next to Cherry.

Cherry took a breath at noticing a stray gray in his left eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind a copy of the recipe. I like to cook when the mood strikes."

He fiddled with his phone and smiled. "I texted him to text you the recipe."

Nodding, she tucked her loose hair behind her ears and leaned back in her seat. "It feels like a hundred years of stuff happened here."

Ludwig's gaze drifted across the room. "Growing up is eerie that way. I'm almost the age dad was when he had his first heart attack."

Cherry eyed the head of the table where Bowser used to sit. Wolfgang and Aretha shared the chair, imbuing it with their nascent lives. They looked like the moon and night sky.

Junior breezed out of the kitchen bringing plates of burgers and fish strips served over rice and steamed vegetables. The alluring smell turned Cherry's head.

Junior kissed her when setting her burger in front of her. He sat on her other side, his chair loudly scraping the stone floor.

Aretha picked delicately at her burger. Black wrapped Wolfgang's hand around a fork and guided him through the motion of moving a bite of Cheep-Cheep to his mouth. Then he took over feeding him.

Wolfgang patted the table, signing, "King. Eat."

Everybody laughed and took a turn feeding him bites of food, even Aretha.

Because they were a family, and that's what families did.

.o

Junior followed Morton upstairs when he put Aretha to bed in his old bedroom. She liked to nest in blankets, so a pile waited on the bed for her.

"Before you settle in…hang on. Wait a sec. Lemme get it."

Junior fished in a box for the plushie of Bowser Neil gave him after his second heart attack. It looked a little worn, and it was almost as big as Aretha when he held it out to her.

"Is it you, uncle Junior?" Aretha studied it, her tiny black claws squishing its limbs.

"No. It's my dad. Your grandpa." Junior knelt, getting eye level with her. "A lot of his love is stored up inside it."

Her eyes widened, while Morton's teared up. "Does that mean he feels me hug it?"

Junior glanced at Morton, smiled and nodded. "Yup, he can feel your hugs."

Aretha clutched the Bowser plush tight to her chest, kissed its cheek and whispered, "I love you, grandpa."

Morton sniffled. Junior patted his shell.

Sienna edged in and sat on the bed with Aretha. "What'cha got there, sweetie pie?"

Aretha turned the plush around. "Uncle Junior gave this to me. It's grandpa!"

"Oh, my!"

"I can give him hugs now, mommy! Look!" Aretha squished it to her chest.

Junior slipped out in time to hear the crackle of a book opening. Morton and Sienna took turns reading Peter Piranha Moves Pipes to Aretha.

Smiling, Junior turned to find Scott in the middle of the hallway floor, shoving his wheelchair towards the wall. Every time the Hammer Brother pushed his wheelchair forward a foot, he tipped forward onto his belly. That did not look fun.

"Whoa, Scott! You okay?"

Scott scowled, thumping his leg stumps on the floor. "Yeah. The battery died. I'm trying to get to that outlet over there. Gimme a hand?"

Junior grasped the push handles and eased the chair backwards towards the wall outlet. Scott plugged it in via a thick retractable cord he pulled off the bottom. Red indicator lights by the joystick blinked to indicate his chair was charging.

"Thanks. It should be charged by morning."

"Cool."

"Scott!" Lemmy's door swung open. "Coming to bed?"

Scott chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yup. Had some chair problems to work out first."

Lemmy scooped him up, giggling. They exchanged a kiss.

"I'm not sleepy yet," he whispered.

"Ooh, I can help you with that." Scott nipped Lemmy's cheek.

"Night, you two." Junior pretended he didn't hear the exchange.

A short while later, he was comfortably in bed with Cherry when he faintly heard Lemmy grunt. Moments later, Wendy sighed noisily.

Junior snickered. "Hey, Cherry?"

She nuzzled her lips against his neck. "You hear them, too?"

"Wanna be louder?"

"Is it a competition?"

He grinned wickedly in the darkness. "I'm about to make it one if you're up for it."

Cherry smirked and took her nightgown off. Junior doffed his shell before laying back. Something about letting her get on top elicited his loudest snarls.

They went for it, and they weren't quiet.

When it was over, Larry shouted, "Geez, Junior, did she kill you, or did you kill her?"

"Yes!" Junior called back.

A few minutes later, Black and Ludwig started groaning, growling and grunting. They were either in the study or the downstairs bathroom, judging by the muffled nature of their noises, and they remained oblivious to how obvious it was.

"I think they win," Cherry remarked loud enough for everybody to hear.

Laughter smattered through the halls.

.o

Nobody else occupied the castle.

Junior looked up, taking in the emptiness. His childhood home was as lifeless as his dad's eyes after he died. Silent gray rooms echoed with decades of memories. Life, death, children, music, laughter, and tears lived in these walls.

He walked through the liminal space of his youth, his gaze absorbing the pale blotches where pictures and tapestries hung.

Bowser's statues stayed, guarding corridors and doorways like ageless sentinels. How much did their scowling stone eyes witness?

Alone, swimming in memories, Junior took the elevator. Up to the battlements where he strolled along the ramparts between the crenellations. Medical staff brought his dad through here after his second heart attack. He could still hear the rattling wheels in his mind.

Above his head, volcano smoke curled. The roaring fans below ran tirelessly, controlling the heat and fumes. Lava powered them, so they were going to run until someone shut them off or the volcano dried up.

Junior returned indoors through Bowser's bedroom entryway. It seemed massive without his dad's bed taking up a quarter of the room.

This castle would be converted into a museum chronicling the lives of the royalty who lived in its walls.

Most children left their nests eventually. Junior wasn't any different.

A conversation he had with his dad a long time ago flashed across his mind.

"I'm gonna cry if you die."

"Yeah, you will, but then you'll carry on living your life. All my love for you is gonna follow you around and smack you like a blue shell on a Kart track. It's my job as your dad to set things up so you'll have a great future after I go. You'll miss me, yeah, but you'll have a lot to look forward to, too."

The castle destined to be home overlooked an enormous valley, and long term plans included a sprawling metropolis being built around the rivers within it. Maps were already laid out with streets named after Mario, Peach, Cherry, Junior, his siblings, Bowser, Luigi and Daisy.

Farmland existed in the plains surrounding the hill, so food wouldn't be a problem.

But these plans extended beyond even Junior's lifetime, so whoever came after would see Valley City completed.

Junior padded downstairs to the silent living room with its gaping black fireplace. Decades of hatch-days, laughter, goofing off and serious moments hung heavily between the walls.

Tears stung in his eyes. He wiped them off and touched the top of the mantle, trying to leave some physical piece of himself behind.

"Thank you," Junior murmured. "Dad, if you're hanging around here, you know where to find me. I love you."

Speaking to nobody felt ridiculous when the syllables left his mouth, but he had to say something. The next words spoken in these walls would be by construction crews, tour guides and visitors.

Junior approached the front entrance to snap a selfie in front of his dad's stone-carved face. He took another picture of the volcano rim above. That view was ubiquitous throughout his life, he wanted to take it with him.

Finally, he kicked the lever that lowered the iron portcullis over the main entrance in a clatter of metal gears. He smiled past the lump in his throat and leapt into the warp pipe before the gate finished descending.

This castle was his past, and he didn't live here anymore.

.o

.o