Archive of Our Own

Angus McDonald is born the only child of a wealthy family. All of his needs are met and he never goes hungry and he's cared for and it's fine.

It's maybe not all the way fine.

The rest of it's true, mostly. His needs are met and he doesn't go hungry, when he acts correctly, and he is an only child to very wealthy, very busy parents. He's being raised as an heir, meant to take over the family business once he's ready, or once his family thinks he is. He doesn't think he wants to take over the business, but he's not sure what else he would even be able to do.

Angus learns how to sit quietly, not speak until spoken to, to not anger his mother or his father for fear of unwanted consequences. He hates it, sitting quietly. He wants to get up, he wants to move, he wants to be able to take notes on his surroundings and the people in them without being punished for it. People are hard to read and he has a difficult time remembering their individual quirks and differences.

His parents are the hardest to understand. They're never very outwardly affectionate, never giving casual hugs or hair ruffles, and he doesn't get touched much so he gets used to that. And then they're in public and it's a lot of shoulder pats and side hugs and making sure they look good to others and he hates it. They like to look like a perfect family but the pain in his wrist from his mother dragging him away from his notebooks says otherwise.

He doesn't get to have many friends his age, doesn't get to have many friends at all, but he wouldn't consider the children he meets at fancy parties his friends. They're similar to him but different. They want to get close and he doesn't. They're loud and it grates at him sometimes. He wants to be their friend but they get weirded out whenever he writes about them or asks them to explain something they do.

He stops trying after a while.

Angus is seven when the first Caleb Cleveland novel comes out. The cover is bright and shiny in a bookstore window and he stops walking, startling the nanny taking him out. She's nice but she's a lot sometimes, a little too touchy, a little bit pushy.

“What is it?” She asks, walking the few steps back to him. “Did you see something?”

He keeps staring at the book, wide eyed and single focused. She follows his gaze to the book in the window and he doesn't see her small smile.

“Do you want to go look at it?”

He turns to look at her then, nodding his head. “Yes. Can we? The cover’s really bright.”

He follows her inside and sits down in a corner on the floor with the book, pouring over the first few pages. It's about a boy a little older than him, Caleb Cleveland, and he solves crimes and mysteries. Caleb Cleveland Kid Cop. His nanny puts a hand on his shoulder before he can get too deep into the story.

“Let's get it,” she says, voice quiet and smile big.

They buy the book, and on the way back he feels an indescribable dread at the idea of his parents finding out.

“Don't tell them,” he pleads, tugging on her coat. “Don't tell them.”

She frowns. “They won't be upset that you got a book, Angus. They want you to read. This book is about a smart boy. They shouldn't have any problems with that.”

He shakes his head so hard he gets dizzy and she has to set her hands on his shoulders to steady him.

“They won't like it. Don't tell them. Please. Please don't. I don't want you to get in trouble.”

She hasn't been there that long, a few months. They always get replaced when they indulge him, so he doesn't ask for much.

“It'll be fine, buddy,” she says. “But if it makes you feel better I won't say anything unless they ask, okay? If you don't want me to tell them I won't.”

They ask eventually, seeing the book out of its hiding place the one time he forgets to put it away, and she answers truthfully.

They don't take away the book, but he doesn't see her again after that day.

When he's eight they deem him old enough to get around on his own. He has a small allowance to let him buy his fares to places he needs to go. He saves up a lot of it for the other books in the series, walking places if he can.

He takes his first case that year too. A missing pet that's easy enough to find once he gets all the details. They pay him for his trouble and he realizes he can make a career out of this.

The cases get progressively harder, which means he gets more money for them, and he suddenly realizes that he never wants to be the successor to his parents’ business.

Angus wants to be a detective.

He takes dangerous cases, building a rapport with the police and militia, making alliances that will hold weight in other cities should he go to them.

He maybe gets banged up a couple times, maybe almost dies once or twice, but it feels so good that he doesn't want to stop.

His parents are not happy.

“What were you doing out so late,” his mother asks, hands on her hips, eyes dark in the artificial light of their sitting room. “You know you're not allowed to go out like that.”

“Just finishing up a case,” he says proudly. “This was a big one. The police couldn't—”

“Enough of your games, Angus. You're our heir. You're not made to go out and roll around in the dirt and catch petty thieves and the like.”

“But—”

“Are you talking back?” His mother rears back a bit and he flinches.

“No, ma’am,” he says meekly, eyes glued to the floor. If he doesn't look at her he can't see how mad she is. If he doesn't look it'll be fine.

“Good. Don't go out like this again, Angus. We're counting on you.”

They're counting on him They're counting on him. How can he disappoint them when they need him?

A little voice inside of him says that he'll be a disappointment whatever he does, but he tries not to listen to that.

He keeps taking cases, but he's a little more careful about how word spreads around. He doesn't want his parents to know, even if they click their tongues as his less than tidy hair, bring the dirty clothes back up to his room from where he'd stuffed them in the hamper to avoid talking about it.

They know. He knows they know. He's terrified, but this is what he loves. He's a detective, he hasn't failed a case yet. He's going to be Angus McDonald, world's greatest detective. And if he has to deal with open doors and dirty looks and ill timed sighs that make his heart jump in his throat he will.

He wants to learn magic because certain spells would be so helpful, even just defensive magic for when things get a little scary would be good.

Angus buys a wand and tries to teach himself spells in his room in the dark of night, but nothing ever works.

He pilfers magic theory books from his grandfather's library when they visit, and that helps, but still nothing comes from his wand.

His grandpa is dying, old age eating him away. He doesn't remember Angus most of the time, and while it's frustrating, he still allows himself to be called whoever his grandpa thinks he is that day. Sometimes it's his dad, sometimes it's a family friend, sometimes it's his grandpa's brother. He loves his grandpa, though, and the thought of losing him makes him feel a bit empty inside.

His parents send him on an errand, delivering the family silverware to his grandfather to make him happy one last time. Secretly Angus doesn't think his grandpa will care, won't be lucid enough to remember, but he keeps that to himself.

“We're trusting you with this,” his mother says. “Don't let us down.”

“And no detective work,” his father takes on, voice low. “We'll know.”

He wouldn't have followed that rule anyway, but now he wants to break it just to spite them. He's ten and he's tired of stupid rules and not getting a say but getting screamed at when he tries to talk.

He meets three men on that train to his grandfather's house that lie badly, and he almost dies with them, but he helps them solve the mystery even through all the static he hears, gets thrown off the train by the elf, and gets the silverware stolen but for one piece, but he lives.

He tries to tell his parents what happened, that he wasn't even trying to solve a mystery, that one just appeared in front of him, but they have none of it.

The family silverware is gone and his grandpa died while he was on the way and his head is dizzy for the next few days from how hard his father smacks him.

There's a mystery in front of him now, though. The bracers, where those men came from, why he couldn't understand them. This is possibly the biggest mystery of his life. He might have to leave home for a while to solve it.

Angus packs a suitcase with clothes, a backpack with everything else, and shoves the pouch of saved money he's got into his pocket. He goes in the night time, walking around creaky floorboards and still awake servants. He shuts the door quietly behind him and stuffs the key in his bag.

Finding information on whatever organization they're from is difficult, unreasonably so. Every time he gets somewhere, his head fuzzes out and static replaces his thoughts. There's some powerful magic at work here. He takes notes that he can't read and follows people that disappear from his memory immediately.

It's sheer luck he’s hiding in the woods when it happens, cold, hungry, a little bit dirty. He's running out of money so he'll need to take another case soon. He knows it's dumb to be so vulnerable out here, especially at his age. He's only ten, anyone could pick him off.

A whirring noise comes from above and he looks up to find a glass sphere coming down from the sky. Three people walk out of it, a half orc a dwarf and a dragonborn, and they chat happily as they walk out into the woods. They’re all wearing the nonsense bracers that the men were wearing. Angus hides until they're gone and then runs over to the sphere. He climbs inside and waits. The door shuts eventually and the sphere starts going up. He's hit with a wave of fear, he doesn't know where he's going, doesn't know what these people will be like.

It goes up and up and… to the moon? That's not possible. Why would it be on the moon? How could anyone get up there? His head statics out in pain and he curls up under the chair, hiding from whatever's waiting for him.

A hatch opens up and the sphere glides in. A human man pulls a lever and it stops, sliding into place next to other spheres. Nothing makes sense and his head is pounding and he bites down on his fingers to keep any noises in. The human man walks away eventually, leaving Angus to figure out how to get out. His head hurts and he presses the first button he finds. The door to his right opens up and he drags himself out. He's in a building on the moon. He's on the moon. Angus McDonald is on the moon.

He sneaks as best he can down the hanger, trying to be quiet. His head pounds. He can't focus. He hears laughter up ahead and it grates at him. He bites his lip.

There's a door up ahead. There's bound to be people behind it. The best thing to do in this situation is to pretend to belong, but he's a child, on the moon, so all bets are off.

He waits until it gets quiet outside and then creaks the door open. It doesn't make any noise but for the unlatching. He peeks out. The human man is resting against the door, looking off to the side. It's a split hallway, so Angus could go the other way. He steps out, trying to muffle his steps on the hard floor. The man doesn't look, but he does twitch. He takes a drink of something in a flask, it smells like alcohol and that coupled with the massive headache of trying to understand where he's at has him making a quiet pained noise.

The man snaps his head towards Angus, eyes wide, and he realizes what he's just done. Oh gods, oh he'll be in so much trouble.

The man's still staring at him, mouth opening and closing, and when he moves Angus bolts.

He runs down the side of the hall he was planning on, hears a “Hey!” come from behind him, and runs faster. He can't get caught, he has no idea what they'll do to him if he's caught.

He runs ahead, trying to weave between people. His head is fuzzing out and everything makes it worse. There's buildings, domed all around, and how this works on the moon he has no clue. He's running blind.

He slams into someone and they let out a quiet, “oof.” Angus backs up a bit, and the person turns. Half elf man, bard. He thinks. His head hurts so much.

“Hey,” he says in a dull voice, and then he looks at Angus. His eyebrows furrow and he stares at him. “Who are—”

“Johann get that kid!” comes from behind, and the human man is back. Angus gets one more surge of energy and ducks out of the way before the half elf can grab him. He sprints, trying to outrun everyone around him.

He hits a dead end eventually, locked doors in front of him, people who want to catch him behind. His head aches and he can't control himself as he sinks into a ball on the floor. If he looks pitiful, maybe they won't hurt him.

Footsteps slow to a stop in front of him, breath wheezing out if whoever is there.

“Holy shit,” the human man says. Angus doesn't look at him, refuses to look up. They're going to hurt him. They're going to kill him. Oh gods he's going to die.

“Jesus fantasy christ kid you run really fast,” he says, and steps get closer. Angus whimpers into his knees.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, don't worry. I just wanna know why you're up here.”

He shakes his head and it hurts and he maybe starts crying because of the pain.

“Oh shit, --- -------- is hurting you isn't it. Johann, can you go get the Director?”

“Yeah,” that same low voice of the half elf comes again, and how many people are there around him?

A hand settles on his shoulder and he flinches back, doesn't want to get hurt. The hand hesitates and then a thumb rubs a small circle in his shoulder.

“How'd you even get up here?”

He doesn't speak, can't speak. If they get information on him it could be dangerous. Not that he isn't in danger already. This man may say they won't hurt him but he's so obviously not the leader. He tries to stop crying, but every time he relaxes enough more questions about this place surface and his headache hikes up and he whimpers into his knees.

“Where are they,” the man asks anxiously. “Why is this taking so long?”

It's quiet for a while, the man continuing to rub comforting circles into his shoulder. He doesn't ask him anymore questions and Angus tries and fails to understand where he is and stop his headache.

Brisk footsteps meet his ears from down the hall and the man sighs in relief but keeps his hand where it is.

“Avi, what happened?” A woman's voice floats over, cool and collected. Angus doesn't raise his head. She sounds like the leader, and if this is their “director” then she would most certainly be.

“The kid came out of the hanger and then ran for it. I don't know how he got up here, maybe he stowed away on one of the spheres? I don't think he's doing too good, though. Big old -------- headache.”

The hand leaves his shoulder and he hears the man shuffle away. The footsteps, the director, come in front of him.

“Hello,” she says gently. “I’m the Director. Who are you?”

“Angus,” he says, leaving off his last name. Maybe it'll save him something.

“Alright, Angus.” He hears her sit, hears her uncomfortable sigh as she does. “Why are you up here?”

He doesn't say anything. It's quiet for a moment.

“I'm not going to hurt you, Angus. It doesn't matter how you answer. That's not how we do things here, especially not to a child. Now, please tell me why you're here.”

He can't read her voice. She sounds genuine, but also stern. He's not sure what he should do, and his head feels like it's going to explode as he thinks through his options. He's not sure what noise he makes, but her hands, cool on his skin, rest against what parts of his face she can touch.

“If you tell me I can make that headache go away. Without you telling me it'll only get worse.”

That sounds like a lie but he is only ten and he can only take so much.

“I,” he croaks out, shivering. “The men on the train. Something was off about them. I couldn't understand them. They had those bracers on.”

She's quiet for a moment. “On the Rockport train?”

“Yes,” he says, brain pulsing. “I wanted to know who they were and what they were doing because everything sounded like static, just like everything feels like it right now. What's happening?”

“You followed someone here?”

“No, I,” he cuts himself off as he tries to think about his research. “I gathered information but none of it made sense and it gave me a headache so I had to know but I can't remember any of it.”

“How did you get up here, Angus?” The man, Avi, asks from behind.

“Saw the ball come down, people got out with the bracers, and I got in and hoped it would work.”

It's quiet again, Angus thinks the woman must be thinking of what to do with him.

“Angus,” she says carefully. “How would you like a job?”

“He's a kid,” he hears Avi hiss under his breath. That low voice from the half elf hums, but he can't catch what he says.

“A job?” he asks, confused. How has any of this shown he's a viable employee?

“You seem smart, quick on your feet. You tracked us down here even though you couldn't understand the information you had. And I heard from the boys that you're a detective.”

“World's greatest,” he mutters, correcting. And then he tenses. Backtalk to an authority figure, bad idea.

“World's greatest indeed,” she agrees, much to his surprise. “Would you look up at me?”

He does, with a  little less caution than he probably should use. She’s an older woman, hair shockingly white against her dark skin. Her eyes look younger, though, smiling genuinely at him.

“There we go. Now what do you say. We could talk specifics once I get rid of this headache for you?”

He nods, not taking his eyes away from her. Her smile grows.

“Wonderful. Now, I'm going to pull you upright and we're going to go get rid of this headache.” She grabs his hands gently and pulls him up. He would be offended at how careful and childlike she's treating him, but the headache is too painful to focus on that.

She leads him down the hallway to an elevator, where tinny, unremarkable music plays. Avi hesitates at the door until the half elf, Johann, pulls him in with them. The four of them stand close together, the Director’s hands still on Angus’s shoulders. It's quiet, no one says a word.

The elevator opens up to a hall with guards lining the walls, and Angus can barely see through the pain in his head. They walk down to a door, large, ornate, and the Director pushes it open.

He can't see what sits inside, can't understand what his eyes are open to. The headache doubles up, staring at something so staticked out. He can't look away, though. Something tells him this is important, no matter how much he wants to curl up in a cool dark room.

“Drink this,” the Director says, pressing a vial into his hand. He almost drinks it and then rethinks. They've pulled him down to some kind of under room, something indescribable and fuzzy is sitting in front of him that he can't understand, and they're giving him a drink after he broke into their base.

This will either make him forget or dispose of him. He stares at the vial, stares at the murky, goopy liquid inside and doesn't move.

“It'll make you understand,” the Director says patiently, and gods that's something his parents would say.

Headache or no, he's not putting that in his body.

“I,” he says, unsure of what to do. “This isn't—”

“Aw geez this does look bad,” Avi says, scrubbing at his face. “I swear we're not trying to swindle you or hurt you or kill you. You've kinda gotta trust us here or… I don't actually know what the or is. I'll drink part of it first if you want.”

Now that offer is tempting, but he could fake it or have an immunity or some other thing. Avi offers his hand and Angus hesitates again before giving it to him.

“There's no weird side effects about doing this twice, right?”

“Not that I'm aware of. I've demonstrated many times and nothing bad has ever happened to me out of it,” the Director says, and while still tense that gives Angus a bit of hope.

“Alrighty,” Avi says before taking a sip of the vial. He makes a face. “Eugh. It doesn't get better.”

Angus takes the vial back and waits, watches. Nothing bad happens to him other than the taste, it seems. Angus's headache kicks back up and before he can second guess himself he downs the liquid.

It tastes revolting.

It takes a moment and then he blinks, staring straight ahead at a giant jellyfish where his brain couldn't see before. He stares, headache forgotten, looking at the small lights that occasionally flicker inside.

“Ah,” the Director says, sounding pleased. “There we are. Feeling better?”

“Yes,” he whispers out, unable to look away. The jellyfish seems to wave a tendril at him and he hesitantly waves back.

“This is the Voidfish,” the Director says, and suddenly he remembers hearing Avi say that so clearly in his mind. And it's so easy to deduce that this is a fake moon. And he can see the symbol on those bracers clearly. Everything is making sense and it's almost too much. But it's information and he can never get enough of that.

“We should take this up to my office,” the Director says, and now everything seems much more serious. “Just to hash out job specifics, living arrangements, payment options, the like. Avi, Johann, thank you both for your help today. I'll be talking to you both about this later.”

“Nothing bad, I hope,” Avi says, nudging at Johann.

“No, mostly good. I'll be seeing you. Angus, would you follow me?”

He follows her back to the elevator, staring at everything now that he can make sense of it. She doesn't say much and he's glad, too busy absorbing everything.

Her office is high up, away from the rest of the base. A gnome waits inside, pacing anxiously.

“Davenport!” he exclaims when they enter, running up to the two of them. He stops and stares at Angus, sizing him up and then sticking his hand out.

“I’m Davenport,” he says, and Angus takes his hand.

“I'm Angus,” he replies, shaking it. The grip is firm and the gnome smiles, turning to the Director.

“Davenport?” he asks, and Angus furrows his brows in confusion.

“Yes, we've got a new recruit,” she says, and she almost sounds sad. But maybe that's his brain playing tricks on him. “I'm getting him set up now.”

“Davenport,” he says, turning and going to a side room.

“Yes, his name is Davenport,” the Director says before he can ask. “And yes, he mostly only says his own name.”

Angus doesn't say anything for fear of being rude, and she leads him to his seat, sitting across from him in what looks to be her chair.

“Now, Angus. Let's start with the basics. Do you have a last name?”

They haven't used any of his information poorly yet, so he tells her. “McDonald.”

She pauses and he hopes she doesn't recognize his name. She continues on without fuss.

“The job I would be offering you is a bit work heavy, I'll admit. First, however, I must explain the relics.”

She does, and now what the men were looking for on the train makes much more sense. What they collected on the train does as well. He takes notes on the relics in his notebook, pulling it out of his back pack. He realizes he left his suitcase on the ground and feels himself sulk a bit.

“Something wrong?”

He jumps, looking at her. “Oh, no not really. I just realized I left my suitcase in the woods. It's fine, really.”

She gives him a funny look that he's not sure how to comprehend.

“We can deal with that in a moment,” she says finally. “First, however, I'd like to explain your job. You'd be gathering information on these relics, assisting us in locating them and the people who have them. Your job would be dangerous, but of course we'd make sure you're monitored so you wouldn't be in grave danger.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I can handle myself in dangerous situations.”

“I’m sure you can, and that’s why I even considered giving you this job. Regardless, I would be employing a child and your life and safety would be in my hands. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He nods, a little bit miffed. As if he can’t handle his own life. He’s done relatively fine these last few weeks following this lead.

“About living arrangements,” she says, steepling her fingers in front of her face. “If you’ve got any family, I’m sorry but—”

“It’s fine,” he says, probably too quickly. He interrupts her. She raises an eyebrow and he shrinks. “I-I just mean that I don’t really, um, I don’t have any family that we need to worry about? No. If you need me to stay here I can.”

“Angus, I don’t want to separate you from any family you’re currently living with.”

“That’s, uh, it’s fine. They won’t, I mean I don’t really…” He swallows harshly. “Can I stay here?”

She looks a little taken aback but nods. “Yes, if that’s what you want. You can stay here. I’ll have a single room set up for you immediately.”

The conversation gets back on track after that. Angus learns more about the Bureau of Balance, how she formed it, what the people are like. She’s lying a few times, Angus notes, and he writes that down as well, careful that she doesn’t see. He learns how the Voidfish works as well, how it eats information. This gives him an idea, but he won’t act on it yet, won’t do anything about it until he’s sure.

His room is easy to settle into, and they do go back and grab his bag for him, which is nice. He doesn’t unpack just yet, still unsure of if he’ll be able to stay.

Then the guys from the train come back, Merle and Magnus and Taako, after racing to get another relic, and it was a fun race to watch. He’s in a good mood and then Taako reveals that he thought he died and it puts a damper on everything a bit.

Then Candlenights rolls around and they all have a party down in their room and Taako presents him with macarons and they’re very good. But the three of them and the three that he saw in the woods that day, Killian and Carey and Boyland, all suit up to go to Lucas Miller’s sky lab that’s slowly turning into crystal.

He helps them cheat with a robot and then they go silent and he gets a little bit hysterical. Oh gods he’s killed them, he shouldn’t have helped. The Director is trying to mitigate between keeping calm and trying to make him calm down, and then their voices come back on and he loses it a bit. The Director pats his face lightly with her hand and everything is so much he says “ow” like it hurts. His brain kind of hurts and he’s overwhelmed, but it’s not like she actually hit him. He knows what that feels like.

They make it out alright, minus Boyland, which is a shame. He was just starting to get to know him.

Taako offers him magic lessons and it feels like the best day in the world.

Lessons go fine, kind of. He doesn’t seem to have much innate magic ability, which Taako scoffs at.

“Magic isn’t about being born with it, pumpkin. It’s studying and late nights and hard work. Not for me, of course. It was all natural and easy for Taako.”

He’s lying, which makes Angus feel better. Angus writes that down about him, that Taako lies first and tells the truth second. He covers up whatever insecurities he might have with lies and tries to never be sincere.

“Sir, um, Taako,” he stutters out one day, unsure. Taako’s not the biggest fan of being called sir for a reason he won’t tell him. “Magic lessons are fun, and I don’t want them to stop, please don’t get me wrong.”

“But?” Taako asks, spinning the Umbrastaff in his hand.

“But I was wondering if, haha, this sounds silly now,” he mutters, eyes darting to the floor.

“Spit it out, bubeleh.”

“Would you teach me how to cook?”

Taako freezes, staring at him.

“I know you don’t cook very much anymore, and it is unfortunate what happened, but those macarons were still very good, and I never did get the correct hands on pointers for putting flavor in mine, so I was wondering if we could maybe do cooking lessons alongside magic lessons?”

Taako just stares at him for a second, hand gripped tight on the umbrella, and Angus fears he’s made him genuinely mad. He gets pretend mad sometimes, just to mess with Angus, but this seems likely to make him actually mad. He’s about to stammer out an apology when he speaks.

“You wanna learn how to cook? How old are you, eight?”

“Ten, sir,” he says. He’s turning eleven soon, but that doesn’t really matter. No one up here needs to know that. He’s not even certain the Director knows when his birthday is. He never did specify, just said that is was sometime later in the winter.

“Well you’re old enough, that’s for sure. You sure you actually wanna learn how to cook or are you just getting clingy?”

“Well, I do need to know how to cook to live, sir- Taako.”

“Alright!” He claps his hands together. “Sure, why the fuck not. Let’s teach you how to cook. Not today. Today we finish up magic lessons. But soon.”

It isn’t for a few weeks that they start cooking lessons, but they do start. Taako starts him out with a simple batch of cookies. Chocolate chip. Taako himself doesn’t touch any of the food items, but he does point and get in the way and sound obnoxious about Angus not knowing how to make cookies.

“I didn’t exactly grow up with parents that cooked all that often, sir,” he says, annoyed, mixing the dough together with his hands.

“Oh, rich kid? Get everything cooked for you? Fancy.”

He breathes out angrily, focusing on putting his anger into the cookies. He can feel Taako’s grin on him.

“Touched a nerve? Good. Keep that energy up. Maybe keep it up in magic lessons, too.”

The cookies turn out near perfect, a little burnt on the bottom, and the best part is that they taste how they should. Warm and sugary and chocolatey. Taako smiles and it looks actually genuine and Angus is hit by a swell of happiness that he doesn’t know what to do with. He stuffs another bite of cookie into his mouth to avoid talking and Taako snickers at him.

Cooking lessons go much the same as magic lessons, only the strict rule is no magic in the kitchen. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes he doesn’t. He burns food easily, undercooks it easier, impatient for it to be done. The cookies were an excellent jumping off point, but he’s a bit disappointed that not everything’s so perfect.

They’re making cranberry bread, something that Angus has never had and Taako insists he make. It’s been a long day, magic lessons and cooking lessons crammed in right next to each other on top of researching and briefing with the Director for the next artifact. They’re close to tracking it down, the Chalice.

He mixes with a large spoon, bodily holding the bowl as he mixes. He’s not paying attention very well, brain a little buzzy. Taako nudges him and he startles, dropping the bowl. There’s a second where it looks like it’ll land on the counter and then it spins off, hitting the hard tile below just hard enough to break.

It’s a few large pieces, nothing terrible, but Angus’s brain goes into overdrive and he drops to the floor, immediately grabbing at the glass pieces.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he wobbles out, grabbing them closer, trying to clean up before Taako can get properly mad. “I’m so sorry, I- I should’ve paid more at-attention I- I don’t mean to—”

“Whoa whoa whoa bubeleh.” Taako sinks to the floor next to him. Waving his hands above Angus’s. “Stop that, buddy. Broken glass is dangerous.”

His hands sting, but if he stops picking up the pieces he’ll get mad, he’ll be so much more upset. His face feels wet and breathing is a little hard, but it doesn’t matter because he’s made a mess and he needs to prove he can clean it up, that he’s not useless.

“Agnes, stop,” Taako says firmly, grabbing his wrists to make him drop the glass pieces. His hands sting and the grip around his wrists is firm and his mother used to drag him around like this, yanking his wrists so hard they hurt. Angus lets out a strangled cry and rips his arms back hard. Taako lets him go like he’s been burned, sitting back all the way. Angus curls up, hands up, loose, submissive. The glass clatters back down in the pile of batter and more broken bowl.

He’s crying but he shouldn’t show it. His father always told him boys can’t cry, they’re not allowed, especially not him. But it’s like something’s been yanked out of him and he can’t stop, hitching breaths and leaky eyes.

“Pumpkin,” Taako says quietly. “Take a deep breath. Chillax a little.”

He tries to obey but he can’t. And that’ll just make him more mad. He manages to stop audibly crying, muffling himself with his knees. Taako sighs.

“Not what I meant. Just… come on. Breathe with me.”

He takes a big loud breath in, holds it for a second, and then lets it out. Then he does it again, and he keeps doing it. Angus finds himself breathing with him, unable to stop. It calms him down, helps him stop crying. He loosens his body up a bit, relaxes in the position he’s sitting.

“Okay,” Taako says slowly. “Okay.”

“’m sorry,” Angus mumbles out. “I didn’t mean to break the bowl.”

“I know, Agnes. It’s an accident. Accidents happen in the kitchen all the time. What we don’t do is start picking up broken glass willy nilly, yeah? Let me see your hands.”

He holds them out, finally looking up. Taako touches them lightly, turning them over and frowning.

“This is why we don’t pick up broken glass, kid. Your hands are all messed up now. I should call Merle—”

“No!” Angus exclaims, pulling his hand back. “No, it's okay, I can take care of it.”

“You don't have to,” Taako says, frown deepening. “Really bubeleh, it's no big deal.”

“I-I can do it, really—”

“At least let me help,” he says. “Doesn't sit good with me letting a kid patch himself up like this.”

Taako doesn't seem likely to let up, so Angus nods and gives a quiet, “Okay.”

Taako stands and Angus does too. He cups his hands together to keep any blood from getting on the floor as Taako leads him to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet, head down, not looking at Taako.

“Hands out?”

He presents his hands, cupping then again so blood doesn't get anywhere. Taako sets a cloth against them and he hisses in a breath but stays otherwise quiet. The cleaning of his hands doesn't take long, marked by the occasional sting of rubbing alcohol and the cloth. He wraps them up tightly but in a thin layer, leaving Angus able to move his hands freely.

“Now,” Taako says when he's done and Angus hunches his shoulders up, defensive. “D’you wanna talk about what happened back there? Because I can sorta guess and it doesn't seem great.”

“Just wanted to clean it up,” he mumbles, only omitting the truth, not fully lying.

“Mm, now see, there's ways of doing that that don't involve you losing your shit over one teensy little broken bowl, but I suppose I can believe you, at least partly.”

“I'm sorry,” he says to the floor.

“I'm not mad,” Taako says, and his voice is gentler than he's ever heard it. “Really bubeleh. Accidents can happen in the kitchen. One broken bowl is nothing to freak out about. I've got plenty of bowls and even if I didn't, I've got magic to put it back together.”

“But I thought no magic in the kitchen?” he asks, raising his head finally.

“Only for the food, Agnes.”

“Oh,” he says, twisting his fingers together. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

He sighs and scrubs his hands down his face, and Angus can only sit and watch. “Alright, if you don’t wanna talk about it that’s just peachy keen with me, but accidents aren’t things you need to apologize for, especially when it’s just something like this. You broke the bowl, but it’s cool. We’ll clean it up and start over, alright?”

He nods and Taako gives him a thumbs up. “Cool cool cool, now let’s go finish up that cranberry bread.”

Taako cleans up the broken bowl and the batter with a flourish of his umbrella and pulls a new bowl out of the cabinet. Angus is careful to keep it on the counter this time, holding it gingerly in his wrapped hands. Taako helps him out a little more this time, mixing ingredients together, actually touching the food. This shouldn’t really mean anything, but Angus knows how much he hates touching the food that other people are going to eat. It means a lot, him actually helping him and not just giving instructions from the sidelines.

They pour the batter into mini loaf tins, popping in the oven and setting the timer. The waiting is always the worst part. He wants the food done now.

The repetitive mixing and pouring and mixing some more had helped calm him down and the leftover jitters from dropping the bowl are gone now. He stands there a little awkwardly until Taako hops up onto the counter and pats a spot next to him.

He sits on it cautiously, having never sat on the counters at his house before. It’s surprisingly not uncomfortable, and he’s far enough forward that his head doesn’t bonk into the cupboards.

“I think that went better the second time around, don’t you?” Taako says, running his thumb over his nails and looking at them with furrowed brows.

“I agree,” Angus says. “I hope it turns out good. It’ll probably be better because you helped.”

He laughs, swinging one leg over the other. “We’ll see, bubeleh.”

It doesn’t take too long for the bread to be done, and Taako lets Angus prattle on about the most recent Caleb Cleveland novel, much to his surprise. Angus pops on the oven mitts before pulling open the oven, crabbing the loaf tins carefully so he doesn’t drop them or burn himself.

Waiting for them to cool is worse, just because they’re there and he can smell them and they smell so good and he’s never had cranberry bread before. He wants to eat it. He wants to taste what the tartness of the cranberries is like with the sugary, orangey bread.

Taako takes the first bite, waiting a moment before allowing Angus to have at his own piece. He really didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. It’s sweet, but not in an overwhelming way, and the crunch pop of the cranberries inside, even though they’re cooked, it good.

It immediately becomes his favorite.

“’s good” he says through a mouthful of bread, and Taako raises an eyebrow at him, taking another bite of his own mini loaf.

“That good, huh?” He asks, smiling. “Well, good. Obviously. It’s cranberry bread, who hates cranberry bread?”

Angus shrugs and takes another bite. They pack the rest of it up and Angus takes some of it back to his room, munching on it when he wants some. Keeping food in his room is weird. Food was never allowed in bedrooms at his house, not that that stopped him from hiding certain foods that his parents didn’t like under clothes and shoved in the backs of closets. Being allowed to keep food where he wants, on his desk, wrapped up easily, is refreshing.

It’s not long after that that he sets out and does what he’d thought of when he learned about the Voidfish.

He writes a description of himself down, his name, his birthday, the fact that he’s the child of the McDonald family. Anything his parents could use to remember him he writes down in detail, folding up the paper and shoving it in his pocket.

He walks down the hallway, jittery, nervous. He wonders if someone will try to stop him. He doesn’t want them to. He desperately wants them to. It’s a bad mix that swirls in his stomach.

He passes Avi briefly in the hallway, and he waves to him.

“Hey dude! Whatcha up to?”

“Going down to visit the Voidfish,” he says truthfully, “It’s nice down there.”

“Eh, I mean, the Voidfish is cool and all, but it’s still cold and dark down there. Maybe Johann will be down there.”

“Maybe,” he says, gripping the piece of paper inside of his pants. “I’ll see you later Avi!”

“Later, Ango,” he says, continuing walking.

The elevator down is playing music just as nondescript as the last time he was in here. It makes him antsy, doesn’t give him anything to focus on other than the paper in his pocket and what he’s about to do.

Johann isn’t down there when he enters the Voidfish’s room. Just the Voidfish, swirling closer to the front of the glass as he enters. He waves at it, pulling the piece of paper out anxiously.

“Um, hello,” he whispers, and it echoes in the room. He winces, wanting to be as quiet as possible even though he doesn’t need to be. “I’m just… dropping this off, I guess.”

He gets closer, feet at the edge of the tank near the hatch to enter things. He pulls it open and holds the paper over it, hesitating. The Voidfish swims closer, questioning, and he drops it in.

The paper floats for a moment, and he can read his name and his birthday and all of his information, and then it gets swallowed up by the Voidfish. He sees a few lights spark bright inside, his parents, the militia, anyone he knew back on the ground. And then they go out, back to the regular swell of light swirling inside of it.

He sits on the floor in front of the tank, waiting, watching. Nothing feels different, and he guesses that’s probably fine. He knows who he is, the people on the moonbase know who he is. That’s all he needs. This is his life now.

His parents won’t remember him.

Angus isn’t sure whether that’s good or bad.

Johann comes back down eventually, pausing when he sees Angus in the room before going back to his messy table full of instruments and sheet music.

“Hey Angus,” he says, a quiet greeting.

“Hi, Johann,” Angus answers, still staring up at the lights flickering inside of the bell.

“What’re you doing down here?”

“Just visiting the Voidfish. It’s pretty cool,” he answers. He doesn’t lie. He is visiting, and the Voidfish is cool. He just doesn’t tack on the rest of it.

“It is, isn’t it?” And that’s the end of that. Johann starts playing something on the small harp he has, and Angus stays there a while longer while he works, listening to the lilt of the notes and staring at what’s practically a galaxy inside of the massive jellyfish.

It eats at him. But it’s better. It has to be better that they forget about him. Right?

Taako’s been keeping secrets, or just one big secret. He’s been sneaking off some nights and while Angus tries to follow him, Taako is very good at losing people. He’s never able to figure out where he goes.

He wants to get to the bottom of this, but he feels almost as lost as when he was trying to figure out the Bureau. He won’t give up, though. He’ll figure it out.

Best to start where he knows Taako resides. His room.

He doesn’t knock, just swings open the door, calling out a “Hello, sir,” that gets cut off in his throat. There’s another man here in a well fitted suit, arms wrapped around Taako’s waist. They both stare at Angus as the door opens, and the man looks very uncomfortable.

“Um,” he says. “Hello?”

“Hello,” the man says carefully.

“Angus,” Taako says, and Angus isn’t sure he’s heard him sound this annoyed with him ever. “You got something you need or are you just interrupting Taako Time for no reason?”

“No,” he says hoarsely. “No I’ll— I’ll go. I’m sorry.”

He shuts the door quickly and speed walks out of their living space. He wants to sink into the floor, disappear forever. Taako sounded so upset with him. Not like he’s never dealt with upset Taako, but his voice, the tone, all of it sounded so reminiscent of his parents and he’s terrified.

What if he takes away magic lessons? Cooking lessons? Any and every thing he can? What if Angus has messed up so bad he gets kicked off the moonbase?

He’s not looking where he’s going, just trying to get as far away as he possibly can, when he bumps into someone. He looks up to find Magnus, Carey, and Killian.

“Hey, Ango!” Magnus says brightly.

“H-hello sir,” he says. He clutches at the notebook he has in his hands, desperately wishing he could disappear into thin air.

“You’re lookin’ a little spooked there, kiddo,” Carey says.

“No miss,” he says trying to pull himself together. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Are you sure?” Killian asks, brows furrowed. Angus nods a little frantically. He can’t tell them. Then they’ll all know, they’ll all know how bad he is. They’ll all know right alongside Taako just how annoying and troublesome he is to everyone around him.

“Take a deep breath for me,” Carey says, and he realizes he isn’t breathing. He sucks air into his lungs, feels burning behind his eyes, and holds his notebook a little tighter. “There we go. It, uh, really doesn’t seem like you’re alright.”

“I made a mistake,” he says, voice wobbly. “It’s all my fault.”

“What happened, Ango?” Magnus cocks his head, stance open. He’s trying to be comforting without touching him, he realizes, and it makes everything worse. He doesn’t deserve that, he’s bad. He’s bad and he deserves whatever punishment they see fit, regardless of how scared he is. He isn’t good. He needs to be good.

Someone’s steering him down the hallway, away from the main area and oh gods, they don’t want others to see. That makes it worse. It makes it so everyone has to find out separately how bad he is, how good he isn’t, how he needs to be punished for it.

He gets pushed into sitting on something cushy, soft and comforting. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he wishes they would get on with it. Or maybe it’s this. The anticipation, the waiting, the anxiety sitting in his stomach, numbing his limbs. He looks to his left and finds Magnus with his arms outstretched. He can’t help the little whimper that comes out of him and he squeezes his eyes shut right after, knows that’ll only make it worse.

“Wh— oh. Oh Ango, bud no. No, no I just wanna know what’s wrong.” He sounds so sad, so upset about this, and Angus doesn’t have any idea what he should be thinking.

“He’s gonna take away magic lessons,” he says quietly, miserably. It’s a wonder he can even say that.

“What?” Killian frowns at him. “What happened with Taako?”

“I,” he says, and then he covers his mouth with his hands. He can’t. A large, gentle hand settles on his shoulder and he bites down the flinch that wants to come out because of it.

“Is it something bad?”

He nods his head, eyes damp and stinging. “I walked into his room without knocking,” he shoves out of his mouth. They deserve to know how bad he is. “He was— there was another man there and they were standing there together. And I didn’t, I didn’t knock, I didn’t announce myself. And he got so mad. I know it. I know it. I messed it up. I messed up.”

“Uh,” Magnus says. “Is that it?”

He nods, not looking at them. They know. They know how undeserving of all of this he is.

“Did… did he say anything about magic lessons?” Carey crouches down in front of him. “What exactly did he say, Mango?”

“He didn’t— not about lessons. But he sounded so upset. He’s so mad. Oh gods, if he tells the Director she’ll throw me off the moon and I won’t have anywhere to go, I didn’t mean to be bad it just happens—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down. No one’s throwing you off the moon, okay? Even if you’d done something bad, which you haven’t, the Director wouldn’t just kick you off with nowhere to go.” Killian scrubs at her face for a moment. “But you haven’t done anything wrong, Angus. There’s nothing that needs to be ‘punished.’ I’m sure Taako knows that too and was just frustrated. You’re not a bad person. You’re not bad.”

Angus shakes his head and presses his face into his hands. He’s not sure where his notebook went, but it doesn’t matter. He won’t be allowed to keep it. He’s been snooping where he shouldn’t be and it’s all his own fault whatever happens next.

“Okay, Ango, that’s not how this works here. No one’s going to kick you out or take away lessons or any of that. You haven’t done anything wrong. You didn’t knock, but so what? It’s not like you killed somebody. Even if you had, look at all of us. That’s kind of our job. And when it isn’t the Director still doesn’t kick us off. All you did was maybe annoy Taako while he was on a date and that’s it. That’s not something you need to worry about people getting upset about.”

“B-but I… I inconvenienced him! I burst in when I shouldn’t have! It’s my fault whatever happens!”

“I— What exactly do you think is going to happen?” Carey’s brows are furrowed.

“Um,” he says, stalling. Do they want him to spell out what’s going to happen to him? Do they want him to tell them what to do to him? “M-magic and cooking lessons for sure? I-It depends on whether he tells the Director or not, but less freedom? Maybe? Worst case getting kicked off the moon? And you all brought me back here so I-I’m not really sure what to expect from you. Something you don’t want others to see, I guess?”

Magnus pulls his hand back fast and Angus squeezes his eyes shut, tensing for something he’s gotten to used to not getting. It doesn’t come. He peeks an eye open to find Magnus staring at him, hands in his lap. If anything he looks worried, which isn’t at all what he was expecting.

“Kid, no. We brought you back to Carey and Killian’s room because you looked like you were gonna start crying and we figured you’d want some privacy. Not to— no. Absolutely not.”

“Where did you even get that idea?” Killian asks, but it sounds like she already knows the answer. He doesn’t say anything, stares dutifully at the floor.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Angus.” Carey sits on the floor all the way, resting back on her hands. “You don’t have to talk about it, but you gotta know none of that is going to happen. Taako got annoyed, and that’s it. That’s all the more that’s going to happen out of you not knocking. I promise.”

He doesn’t look at any of them, keeps tensed even though all of them have assured him that nothing’s going to happen. It’s worse, almost, knowing that they know and still not doing anything. “Could I leave, please?”

It’s quiet for a moment before Killian speaks up. “Of course you can. No one’s keeping you here.”

He nods and looks around, grabbing his notebook from the bed before hopping off of it and leaving. No one stops him, no one hugs him or tries to touch him and he’s grateful. His skin is prickling and he loathes the idea of contact right now.

He goes back to his room and opens his notebook, scratching out all the “clues” about Taako’s whereabouts and just writes the words “has a date.” That’s the most obvious answer, he doesn’t know why he couldn’t see it before.

Sleep is something he doesn’t want to do. He’s tired, he’s exhausted, and he kind of wants to cry until he drops, but he can’t. His dreams aren’t pretty when he freaks out, and he’d love to not get nightmares over what everyone but him sees as something normal and fine.

Instead, he stays up and pours over information about the next relic. The words on the pages blur over and he gets next to no information, and he maybe almost falls asleep a few times and pinches himself awake over and over and over again, but it’s better than sleeping.

Morning comes and he’s exhausted. His head aches and his body feels off kilter, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He’ll just… avoid Taako and Magnus and Carey and Killian all day and it’ll be fine.

A knock comes at his door and he freezes, hands shaking as he stares from his chair. The knock comes again, a little more forceful.

“Come on, Agnes, I know you’re in there,” Taako calls out, muffled through the door. Angus looks around the room for any way of escape, any way out that doesn’t involve the sheer drop from the window or dealing with his emotions outside the door. There’s nothing, no big enough vents, no secret exits, nothing.

He opens the door cautiously. Taako stands outside of it, leaning on the Umbrastaff. “Alright, so, yesterday probably—”

He stops short, staring at Angus a bit more thoroughly. He seems to make a decision, sweeping himself into the room and pulling the door shut behind him. Angus tenses up all over again, wrapping his arms around himself, following the way Taako moves.

“Mags said I should talk to you about last night and I wasn’t really sure what he meant, but you aren’t looking so hot. You wanna tell me what’s up?”

“N-nothing,” he stammers out, confused. His head hurts and he wants this to be over with so he can hide himself away and never come out again. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I don’t really know either. Magnus said something I did freaked you out yesterday but he wouldn’t give details so I gotta assume it’s when you walked in on me and Kr— uh, my good man pal who’s most certainly not someone we fought before. I don’t really know what would have done it, and I dunno what your parents taught you on that subject, but two guys can definitely be together, Ango. I know you’re like five and you don’t know what exactly all that means, but—”

“Wait,” he says, and then he curses himself for interrupting. “You think I’m upset because you were on a date with a man?”

“Maybe? I really do not know what’s going on right now.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“For what?”

Angus gapes at him. There’s no way. He just… doesn’t remember? He has no idea what he should be mad about? Everything is so much all at once. His head hurts and he’s confused and he promptly starts crying.

“Holy shit— what the fuck? What’s— are you okay? What’s even, did I say something?”

He shakes his head and curls his arms around himself. “I’m sorry,” he blubbers out, voice wobbly. “I didn’t knock and it was rude and I made a mistake and you sounded so upset I thought— I-I thought that maybe I’d done it. That you’d f-f-finally figured out how bad I am and how awful I am and you’d take away magic lessons and cooking lessons and m-maybe you’d tell the Director and then she’d know and she’d kick me off the Moonbase and I’m sorry.”

It’s a long few seconds of just Angus crying and nothing else happening and then two gentle hands set themselves on his shoulders. Taako looks at him and his face has never looked so serious.

“Kid, Angus. I gotta tell you that is some fanciful shit you just cooked up. Me? Being upset about you opening a door without knocking? Like, in an actual way that wasn’t just me being annoyed? Unheard of. Have you met me? I was never mad. Never.”

“But you sounded—”

“Yeah I probably sounded, uh, not very friendly. That’s just how I sound when I’m upset, little man.”

“You sounded like my parents,” he says quietly, and then hates himself for saying it. Because Taako will know and Taako can’t know, but he probably already does because of the glass incident, but it’s all bad anyway so why does it matter?

“Yeah?” he says softly. “Well, guess I’ll have to work on that.”

Angus looks at him with wide teary eyes and he can feel himself crying more, but Taako’s not asking. He’s understanding. He’s not trying to pry and break him open and figure out why him sounding like his parents it bad, he’s just accepting it.

“You, uh, hmm. You okay there?” He looks a little uncomfortable. Angus lurches forward and presses his face into his shoulder. Taako sits there, tense and unmoving for a second, before he wraps his arms around Angus and pulls him in tighter. “Alright, that’s fine I guess. I’ll just magic this clean anyway.”

He stays like that for a while, face buried into his shoulder, Taako gently rocking them back and forth while he cries. He’s tired, he’s exhausted, and he wants to sleep, but he needs to ask something first.

“Can I meet him?” Angus asks when he calms down.

“Really?” Taako asks, face scrunched up. “Why?”

“I have to make sure he’s right for you,” Angus says decisively. “Make sure he’s good people.”

“He’s good people, pumpkin,” he says, exasperated. “But I guess you can meet him. Not right now, though. You look like you’re gonna drop dead.”

“Didn’t sleep,” he mumbles. He’s so tired, he can put a filter over his words. “Too freaked out.”

Taako looks a little sadder for a moment but then masks it up again. “Alright, bed time. You’re going to bed and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Stay?” He asks, small meek. Taako seems to wrestle with himself before sighing.

“Just until you fall asleep, bubeleh.”

“Okay,” he nods, and then he gets into bed. Taako absently pulls the covers up over his shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. He hums something, a tune he’s never heard before. It sounds foreign and old but it lulls him to sleep nonetheless.

Taako doesn’t mention the person he’s dating again until the day he’s set up to meet him, which Angus doesn’t know about, but follows him gladly. It’s just back to his apartment, Magnus and Merle gone for the time being. The man is sitting on the couch, hands on his knees, looking entirely too uncomfortable with the situation. He stands when they come in though, wiping his hands on his pants.

“’Ello,” he says, fake accent stiff in his mouth. Angus notices it immediately and he frowns.

“Hello,” he says cautiously. This isn’t going great. “I’m Angus McDonald.”

“Kravitz,” he says, clipped in that bad accent. He holds out a hand and Angus takes it. It’s freezing. He schools his reaction down to nothing and shakes it.

“That’s quite the interesting accent you’ve got there, Mr. Kravitz, sir.” Polite, still. This person is dating Taako after all, there’s no need to be rude. “Where is it from?”

“Er,” he says, and it’s so badly affected that Angus frowns harder.

“I know that it’s not real, sir.” Taako snorts behind him. He’s not sure how he can be amused, but to each their own. “Any particular reason why you’re trying to swindle me into believing something false about you immediately? What exactly are you trying to hide?”

Kravitz gapes at him, eyes flicking to Taako and back for some sort of help that he’s clearly not going to get. Taako’s cracking up behind him, and Angus isn’t sure what to do.

“I,” Kravitz starts in something more natural. He coughs and adjusts his ties. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you would take that like… that.”

“Kravvy has a work accent,” Taako says between gasping laughs. “He also uses it when he’s uncomfortable.”

Ah, that makes sense. It would probably be nerve wracking, meeting your date’s… student? The thought stops him in his tracks, and suddenly he’s uncomfortable.

“Um,” Angus says smartly. “How, um, how do you know Taako?”

“Honestly?” Angus nods. “I actually tried to kill him over at Lucas Miller’s lab a few months ago.”

Angus turns to look at Taako, who shrugs. “What can I say, he’s cute.”

“What exactly is your job?” Angus furrows his eyebrows and leans in a little closer. His skin is like ice, he’s not breathing, his eyes are dark, and he hold himself very stiffly. A thought pops into his head, but he banishes it.

“A, um, a bounty hunter, of sorts? Technically. I… retrieve people for my… boss.”

He’s telling the truth, but he’s leaving out important parts. There’s a weird smell about him, something sharp and cold that Angus can’t place. “I don’t remember Taako saying anything about another person there other than the Hugbear family, NO-3113, and Mr. Miller. Who exactly are you?”

“Kid,” Taako says, but Angus holds up a hand. He needs to know.

“Um,” Kravitz looks back at Taako for assistance, but Angus takes a step closer, drawing his attention back to him.

“You’re a bounty hunter and you were at the lab, where Lucas Miller was messing with the planes of existence, all involving his dead mother. Taako and the others didn’t mention you, and I never heard you over the stone.” He’s deducing out loud and Kravitz looks extremely uncomfortable. “You had a bounty on Taako, presumably the rest of them as well, but I feel like you weren’t there for them. Why would you have a bounty on Lucas Miller when all he’d done was be somewhat of an asshole to everyone involved?”

Taako chokes on a laugh and Kravitz just keeps staring at him, looking more and more wary of the situation at hand.

“What he’d been doing, bringing people back from the dead, involves doing things with the Astral plane that verge on, or just plain are, necromancy. So, what ‘boss’ would deal with necromancers and those dealing with—”

He cuts himself off, staring at Kravitz, who’s staring right back at him.

“You’re the grim reaper,” he says, matter of factly. “You have bounties on Taako Magnus and Merle, and now you’re dating Taako? How does that add up? Isn’t that… doesn’t that give you a hand up over the entire relationship?”

Kravitz looks like he just slapped him, and Taako’s not laughing anymore.

“You said he was good people, but he has all the leverage in this!” He says, turning back to Taako. “How is this equal?”

“Kid,” Taako says, scrubbing at his eyes. “That’s not how this works. Our bounties got dropped, he doesn’t have any leverage on us, and especially not on me. Come on, you think I’d let him take me out like that? Taako’s no chump, pumpkin. I could blast his ass to Sunday and back, but I won’t. And he won’t. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t like that answer but he’ll accept it, turning back around to Kravitz. He looks a little hurt, looking at Taako to make sure he means it, and Angus feels just the littlest bit bad.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, crossing his arms. “Why not say right away you were the grim reaper?”

“It’s not meant to be widely known,” Kravitz says. “You shouldn’t have been able to figure it out that fast.”

“I’m a detective, sir. The world’s greatest, if I might add. All the clues were right in front of me, I just needed to put it all together.”

“A detective, huh?” Kravitz seems more at ease. “My job does that a bit.”

“Oh?” And now he’s interested.

“Yes,” He says, sitting back down. Angus sits on the opposite end of the couch from him. “We of course have to have all the facts and evidence for it.”

They devolve into detective talk, and Angus learns a lot more about the rules of life and death than he ever thought he would. It’s incredibly interesting, the sentencing requirements and all of the nuance that comes with being a reaper. It’s fascinating. His whole opinion on Kravitz switches. It helps that he never treats him like a child, just talks to him like and adult to an adult, though it may be that he doesn’t know how to talk to children, which is fine by Angus. Taako looks on tiredly from the other couch, obviously not invested in all of the little stories they keep telling each other about different cases, but he can tell he’s listening and it makes him feel warm inside.

“I’m sorry for sleuthing about your life,” Angus says before he leaves. Kravitz has a job to get back to, and Angus wants to make sure they’re on the same page. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I understand,” Kravitz says. “I’ll admit though, it was a little overwhelming to have you come in and immediately pick me apart like that.”

“You never know who’s hiding what,” He says simply, and Kravitz smiles and nods.

“It was nice to meet you, Angus. I hope we get to talk again sometime. You and Taako seem to care about each other quite a bit.”

Then he rips a hole in reality and disappears. Angus stares at the place where he disappeared, looking for any sort of trickery, but he finds nothing. It smells that same unplaceably sharp way and he turns back to Taako.

“Thoughts?” Taako asks him.

“He’s alright. A little too quick to lie for my tastes, but he seems fairly genuine under all of that.”

“Your taste seems to be in people who lie all the time, Ango,” he says, amused. “Just look at the place you’re living in.”

He hums and settles onto his hands, looking at him. “Do you like him?”

“I mean I wouldn’t be associating with him if I didn’t,” he says, but he looks a little guarded. Angus lights up.

“You do,” he says, smiling. “You liiiiike him.”

“Alright,” Taako says, standing. He starts walking towards the kitchen. “I’m not gonna get ribbed by a baby in my own home.”

“I’m not a baby, I’m eleven,” he says, and Taako snaps his head back towards him, staring.

“Thought you were ten, Agnes,” he says quietly.

Then he realizes that he never mentioned his birthday. It had passed in February, months ago. He’d never mentioned it, never wanted to deal with it, and he hasn’t had to clarify his age since.

“Um,” he says, realizing the position he’s put himself in. “It’s, uh, yes, I turned eleven though.”

“When?” Taako’s giving him an odd look.

“In, uh, Feb— in February?”

The look of shock on Taako’s face is almost worth this whole situation. He never seen him look that shocked before. “You turned eleven and you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I didn’t think it was that big a deal?” He shrugs, trying for nonchalance. “It wasn’t that much of a thing down planetside.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a thing to know your birthday, kid. It’s a special day. You deserve some like, I dunno, recognition. You’re a kid, Ango, birthdays are supposed to be important.”

He shrugs his shoulders. There’s not much to get into here, he never liked birthdays with his family. They were too big affairs, made for publicity and nothing else.

“Cheesy petes kid, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I didn’t want to deal with it. I really don’t care about it that much, sir. It’s fine.”

“It is not fine,” Taako hisses under his breath, turning back to the kitchen. “Fantasy Christ pumpkin, I gotta have notice for birthdays so I can stay perfectly aloof until the gift time strikes.”

“You don’t have to get me anything, really.”

“Yeah whatever,” Taako says, going all the way in and pouring himself a glass of water. “You wanna fuck around with some food?”

Angus hops up from his spot on the couch and sidles in next to Taako, listening as he explains how to make this newest type of food. Taako seems a bit less harsh today, a little more genuine, and it makes him smile a bit.

He bombards him the next week with the newest Caleb Cleveland novel and a box full of cupcakes and cranberry bread. Angus definitely doesn’t tear up and Taako definitely doesn’t pull him in for a hug, but it’s definitely the best birthday he’s had in a long, long time.

The next relic comes up and he can tell the Director is anxious. She’s hiding something, she’s been hiding something from the very beginning, but it’s coming out in the open now. He’s not sure what it is yet, but it’s something. He gets a hunch, a terrible hunch, that she’s not actually destroying them, that when the balls disappear, they’ve just gone somewhere else and been replaced with a different, empty ball. He has to test it.

And then the reclaimers are gone and he waits anxiously. It’s only about two days, but it feels like forever.

Then everything moves so fast and they come back with a mannequin and no Magnus and that’s suspicious as all get out and Angus marks the ball and it comes back different, unmarked, and everything goes to hell.

The baby voidfish’s ichor doesn’t do anything for him, but it does something to Taako and Merle and that man they brought with them. And then Davenport starts talking and he has no clue what’s going on, and then Manus shows up and everyone’s talking and it’s so overwhelming, but there are monsters outside, actual, real life monsters that want to devour everyone and everything that they can, so there’s no time for a breakdown.

So they fight, and then Taako snaps the umbrella in half and a ghostly woman pops out and Angus is starstruck by her, curling up and around them and killing every one of the Hunger’s pawns.

The fight is long and he ends up on the ground with Kravitz and Lup and Barry, fighting with a half broken wand that only sometimes does what he wants it to, narrowly escaping death too many times for him to be comfortable with, but they win. The Hunger disappears, it goes away, and Angus holds himself ready, just in case.

He’s lifted on top of Magnus’s shoulders and screams to the world that they won and the cheer that rings out makes him dizzy and proud and he’s laughing and it’s great and he loves where he is.

The exhaustion catches him off guard, and he slumps down onto Magnus’s head, half falling off of his shoulders until hands catch him under his arms and set him sitting on the ground. He finds those arms belong to Barry, and it’s such a weird sensation of knowing both nothing and everything about a person that it makes his head hurt.

“Hey, little man,” Taako says, voice a little scratchy. “You alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine—,” he cuts himself off with a yawn before finishing, “sir.”

“Uhuh,” he says, amused. “you use all your spell slots?”

“Mhm. Think I got a few more in the middle of it though, but I used all of those up too.”

“Nice,” he says, and it sounds like he means it. Angus smiles and rests his head on his knees. “What do you say about some shut eye time, pumpkin?”

“I’d say that sounds excellent, Taako,” he says, not even realizing he’s dropped the sir. It feels comfortable, it feels right. Taako scoops him up in his arms and then pauses.

“Hm. How, uh, how exactly are we gonna get up to the moon?” He asks, looking around at everyone. Everyone’s spell slots are gone, and the moon is much to far up in the sky for any non magical way of getting up there.

“Oh,” Kravitz says, pulling out his scythe. “I’ve got it.”

The rip in reality leads straight to their apartment, letting them into the surprisingly not broken living room. Taako sets him down on the couch and moves to leave but Angus grips to his arm, unthinkingly. He realizes and snatches his hands back, ready to apologize, but Taako waves him off.

“Nah, bubeleh, you’re fine. Think you’re right, we all need some sleep.”

He settles onto the couch next to him, wraps his arm around his shoulder, and Angus rests his head on his chest, relaxing finally.

“So,” Barry says, settling on the floor in front of Taako. “You got a kid?”

“He’s not my kid,” Taako says at the same time angus says, “I’m not his kid.”

“Uhuh,” Barry says, unbelieving. It’s… unsettling. Angus is his student, not his child. He already had parents, he doesn’t need anymore. The thought that they’ll remember him floats into his head and he banishes it. He’s too overwhelmed to even consider thinking about that right now. He doesn’t need parents. He tried that already and it went very, very badly. This is fine for him. Taako isn’t his dad. Taako is not his dad.

He falls asleep pretty quickly, but wakes up halfway through the night to find a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and Taako asleep and using his head as a pillow. Kravitz is on Taako’s other side, and he seems asleep, though Angus isn’t sure how much he needs it. The Dire— Lucretia is nowhere to be found, and he thinks that’s probably on purpose. Barry is asleep against Taako’s legs, arms wrapped around one of them. Davenport and Merle are asleep on Barry’s side, and Magnus, Carey, and Killian are sprawled out under covers on the ground.

“Awake already?” He jumps, finding the source of the voice sitting in front of him, shrouded in red.

“Mm,” he groans, stretching out his legs. “Just for a little bit I think, miss.”

“Oof,” she says, amused. “So formal, just call me Lup.”

“Alright miss Lup,” he says, smiling. He can’t tell for sure, but he thinks she is too.

“That works too, I guess. Anything in particular wake you up?”

“Nah,” he says, yawning again. “I’m okay.”

She’s quiet and he starts thinking. These people he’s come to know are all a little different now. They have years of history he and they had never even known about, and he wonders what they’ll be like now. He thinks Lup might get that best.

“Is,” he starts, and then he stops. This is delicate. “I’m… sorry if this is rude, but is it weird knowing they’re different now?”

She’s staring at him, eyeless face boring into his soul, and he shivers a bit. She slumps.

“Yeah kid, it’s weird. They’re all older, they’ve all been through so much in these ten years and I’ve… here I’ve been stuck in an umbrella, watching the fallout from after they found me.”

“I feel it too,” he says quietly. “They’re all different people now that they’ve got their memories back, and I’m almost worried how it’ll be.”

She’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “Angus, my brother still cares about you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He doesn’t look at her, looks up to make sure Taako’s still asleep. He is. Lup sighs, an odd sort of echoing sound coming from her.

“He wouldn’t just let anyone use him as a pillow, I know that hasn’t changed. He’s not giving you up just cause he got all of us back. If anything he’ll probably keep you a little closer. I know I’ve been gone for a decade, but some stuff doesn’t change about people. He cares about you, kiddo. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” he says, tired again. “I think I’m going to go back to sleep now, miss Lup.”

“Have good dreams,” she says quietly, and he does his best. He can’t remember his dreams, but it’s fine. He doesn’t need to.

The next month and a half is hectic. Taako buys a house off the moon pretty much immediately, wanting as far away from the bureau as he can possibly get. He asks Lup and Barry, both of them working on Lup’s new body and also hashing out details with Kravitz and the Raven Queen, if they’d like to stay there, alongside Kravitz, and all three of them say yes.

And then he asks Angus.

He hadn’t thought much about his parents until then, but it slams into him full force. They’ll be wondering where he is, what he’s doing.

“Kid?” Taako asks anxiously.

“Yes,” Angus says quickly. “I want to stay with you, yes.”

“But?”

“B-but,” he says, not looking at him. He doesn’t want to talk about this. “But nothing.”

“Agnes,” he says patiently. “Come on now, if there’s a but I gotta know what it is.”

“My parents,” he says, still staring at the ground. “They’ll remember me now. They’ll want me to come back home.”

“Ah,” Taako says. “Do you want to go back to them?”

“No,” he says as he looks up at him. “No, Taako, I don’t.”

“Got it.” Taako puts his hands on his hips. “Then you don’t have to. Do you want to see them?”

Something icy grips at his stomach and he shakes his head so hard he gets dizzy. A hand settles on his shoulder. “Gotcha, don’t hurt yourself, I got the message.”

“What do I do?”

“What you do is come stay with me and let me take care of your parents, m’kay?”

“But… but don’t I have to stand up for myself?”

“Not in this Angus,” Taako says, and he sounds honest. “You don’t have to deal with this at all if you don’t want to.”

“But—”

“Listen,” and he sounds tired as he says it. “I don’t know everything about your parents, but I know enough to know that they taught you some messed up shit about what you should and shouldn’t do. This isn’t you being a coward or not ‘man enough’ or anything like that. This is you letting the people equipped to handle it handle it, alright? You’re eleven. You don’t need to throw yourself in a place that’s unsafe for you in too many different ways just to prove yourself. I got this. And what, they’re gonna say no to me? Taako? Savior of ever planar system ever?”

Angus giggles and shakes his head. “They might try but I doubt they’ll get very far.”

“Exactly,” Taako says, smiling. It’s a little wicked looking, a little like he’s looking forward to his parents trying to defy him. “I’ll handle it, pumpkin. You just get comfy at the new digs.”

He does get comfy, and he doesn’t see his parents even once, and Taako never mentions it again. Angus doesn’t ask, but he knows he went over there and threatened them. Probably pretty severely. He should feel bad about it but he doesn’t. It feels right.

Settling into a house with three other people that he doesn’t know too well is odd, but it’s fine. Kravitz is in a similar boat to him of both knowing Taako and not knowing him, but he seems to be handling it fine. He doesn’t try to use his work accent with him anymore, but does a little with Barry and Lup. Barry’s working on Lup’s body in the basement but he talks science with him, sharing notes and laughing about his dumb science puns. Lup is just comfortable to be around, as loud and vibrant as she is.

Lucas’s school is almost done, and Angus has plans to go there, despite Taako’s ribbing of him for it. He knows it’s all for show, that he doesn’t care that much about him not going to his school.

He gets nightmares sometimes, but who wouldn’t after everything? He doesn’t talk about them, brushes them off, and it’s okay. Kind of.

Taako’s away and Barry and Lup are on a reaper mission, so it’s just Kravitz home the night he starts screaming.

His dream is terrible, darkness everywhere, and he can hear everyone’s voices but he can’t see anyone. They’re all distant, yelling, tapering off. He doesn’t know what to do. And then the darkness swallows him up and he can’t see or hear anything anymore, it’s so isolated. He can’t even hear his own voice, can only feel the blood pounding in his ears, making him squirm, but he can’t feel his skin, or his eyes, or his mouth, only his too loud heartbeat and he hates it.

He screams to try and hear himself, but he can’t. So he does louder, and louder, and louder.

Then he’s shaken awake.

He jolts backwards, scrambling away from the hands on his body, blinking his eyes open, snatching his glasses up from the bedside table. Kravitz stands over him, hands up, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he wobbles out. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Angus,” he says, voice quiet but worried. “It’s fine. You don’t have to be sorry. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he says, eyes watering up. He can’t be not okay, he needs to be okay. He needs to be okay.

“You were yelling in your sleep. Forgive me for not thinking that’s true.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers out instead of saying anything else. Kravitz sighs and sits on the bed. He offers up a hand for him to take. He does, hesitantly, squeezing his hand around his tightly.

“Just breathe for me, okay? You’ll be alright.”

Angus breathes in shakily, in and out and holding it for a moment and then in and out again. Kravitz breaths with him, squeezing his hand in time to help him slow everything down.

“I’m sorry,” he says miserably when he’s breathing normally again. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s alright,” Kravitz tells him. “Nightmare?”

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his eyes. The dark doesn’t feel so bad now. “Dark and alone.”

“That one’s never fun,” Kravitz says seriously. “I get that one. It’s terrifying, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whispers out, a little more comfortable. He doesn’t talk about his nightmares but knowing someone else has them, or even just something similar to the ones he’s having, is comforting.

“Would you like me to stay here until you fall back asleep?” He offers, getting comfortable on the bed.

“Yes please,” he says quietly, snuggling back under the covers.

“Of course.”

He falls asleep easy after that, doesn’t have another nightmare. They don’t talk about it in the morning, but it’s s subtle comfort, knowing they’re they for him, that Kravitz gets it too, which means all of them probably do.

He gets a year and a half of getting comfortable with people and visiting over breaks and laughing and growing up and being happy, and then he gets kidnapped. For something Taako didn’t even do.

Those first couple months of acclimating to feeling guilty all the time and angry at little things and having Basil close by to help when he gets overwhelmed are odd. Taako gets more protective, more caring than he was before, and so does Kravitz. They aren’t his parents, they really really aren’t, and he hates thinking about them like they are. His parents aren’t there anymore, and they never comforted him, and they aren’t here for this, taking care of him while he gets used to bad emotions and a discomfort in his body. They aren’t there and he doesn’t want them there, he doesn’t want parents, he just wants what he has. It’s family and nothing more.

He tries not to think about why he hates the idea of Taako being his dad so much, and he succeeds for a good couple years. He never mentions it, and no one else mentions it, except people at school sometimes, but they don’t matter because he isn’t his dad and neither is Kravitz so why do people keep acting like they are?

Then Talley says it in front of Taako and both of them bristle from it and it’s awful.

They have to talk about it, but he doesn’t want to. Taako gets it, kind of, but also he doesn’t and he can tell he’s a little hurt by how quickly Angus told him he didn’t want him to be his dad. He’s seventeen, he needs to deal with this head on. He’s not eleven anymore, he can’t just let other people handle things for him and think it’s okay.

“Hey,” Angus says, feeling shifty in his skin. He’s wearing the gloves, covering his hands up from the world. “We, um, can we talk?”

Kravitz and Barry and Lup are with the Raven Queen right now, and Taako’s cooking in the kitchen, some sort of meat and vegetable wrap.

“Sure, but you gotta help me out in here,” Taako says, scooting over from the cutting board and offering it to Angus, who takes off his gloves and shoves them in his back pocket. He washes his hands and then gets to work cutting up the carrots left on the board.

“What’s up?” Taako asks after a minute of silence. Angus steels himself and slices down rhythmically.

“It’s, uh, about the other day actually. But probably not what you’re expecting. It’s about what Talley said. About you being my dad.”

“Mm,” he hums, voice cracking a bit. He coughs to clear that out. “What about it?”

“I know you got hurt by me saying I didn’t want you to be. I know you weren’t gonna say anything to me about it, but I can tell.”

“Well, I dunno about hurt—”

“I want to explain that, please?” He doesn’t want to get sidetracked. He needs to get it out. “I think you took it the wrong way.”

“Alright,” he says quietly. “Go for it.”

“You, um, people think that a lot, that you and Kravitz are my parents and it’s… I guess it’s true. I mean, you take care of me and we’re close and you especially kind of took me under your wing at the bureau and took what I guess is supposed to be a dad like role. But it’s weird? Because I love that, and I love you and Kravitz, and you both mean so much to me that sometimes I feel like I can’t express it, and you’re my family, but I had parents. And you met them. I know we don’t talk about it, but I know you went and saw them and probably scared the shit out of them to make sure they wouldn’t take me back and I’m glad you did.”

He takes a deep breath, setting the knife down. “But that was my mom and dad. And that’s what my brain thinks parents are like, even though I know it’s not true. I’ve met plenty of other parents and Fritz and Talley’s parents are good and fine and they’re kind of like you so I know that you’re like a dad, and I know that Kravitz is too. B-but I can’t help equating you as a parent to my actual birth parents. And it’s wrong. You’re nothing like them. They were awful.”

This is the first time Angus has actually said that about his mom and dad. They were awful to him. They were terrible and never should have had a child and he knows that now.

“That’s, uh, that’s the first time I’ve said that out loud,” he says, kind of dazed. “They were awful. They were bad people. They shouldn’t have ever had a kid and I’m so fucking glad that I live with you.”

He looks at Taako for the first time since starting this and he’s set down his cooking too, arms crossed, looking at him, waiting.

“You met them, you know. I don’t know what they said to you, but you never told me about it so I’m sure it was something along the lines of me being theirs and their heir and that I needed to be perfect or what was even the point.”

“Yeah,” Taako says, and he doesn’t sound happy. “That’s pretty much what they said.”

“Thought so.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “I love you. And I guess you and Kravitz are my parents and you’re my dads, but I can’t call you that. I know it probably hurts you that I’m saying that, and I know you probably just want me to say and get it over with, but I can’t and I’m sorry.”

Taako’s quiet for a long while, but Angus doesn’t resume cutting up the carrots, and he doesn’t talk. He needs it to sink in, needs to hear what he’ll say.

“Okay,” he says eventually. “That was a lot and I’m glad you told me, but pumpkin I really couldn’t give a shit what you call me. It hurt a little the other night, I’m not gonna lie. But that’s because you didn’t explain where you were coming from. I figured you probably had some fucked up notions of what parents were from the start. But knowing why you’re uncomfortable calling me or Krav dad kinda solidifies that. I get it. I’m not upset either. You’ve been living with me for six years, technically seven if you count the moon, and I’ve never doubted that you want to be here.”

Taako takes a bigger breath and continues. “You don’t have to call me dad for me to know you love me, Angus. You can think of us as family without thinking of us as your parents. And yeah, maybe we’re technically filling that role and I’m technically your dad to everyone else, but I don’t have to be if it make you feel bad. Your parents were pieces of shit and we both know that, and Krav knows that, and so does everyone else in this little fucked up family we’ve got. I don’t have to be your dad. I can just be Taako.”

Angus is kind of crying now, wiping at his eyes to try and get it to stop and Taako sighs, holding out his arms. Angus presses his head against his shoulder and lets himself be held.

“Thank you,” he wobbles out. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

“Ah jeez kid you’re making it seem like I’ve done something monumental here instead of just let you be comfortable in this house. Fuck Ango you can call us whatever the hell you want.”

He nods and hugs him back, squeezing him tightly. He’s never felt unloved here, never once felt unsafe with Taako or Kravitz or Barry or Lup, and it’s refreshing, it’s nice. When he thinks about his old house, cold and quiet and where he got punished for any wrong move, he shudders, letting himself enjoy where he is now.

Too many things have changed in the past eight years, but most of them have been good. He has a family that loves him and friends that actually like him and he has a job teaching and goes to a school that actually challenges him and he loves his life. He loves being alive and being with his family and his friends and cooking and teaching and being a detective on the side, still the world’s greatest.

“Come on,” Taako says, pulling back. He wipes at his eyes nonchalantly, cool and collected. “Let’s get these wraps done before those nerd get back, yeah?”

Angus McDonald has grown up loved and healthy and surrounded by people that actually care for him. He doesn’t ever doubt any of them when they tell them they love him, never wonders why they keep him around, never wonders whether or not he’s letting them down because he knows they’re behind him in everything he does.

He knows his parents were bad people, he knows that he never meant much more to them than a failsafe for their company, someone to flaunt around to the press and people who hated them.

There’s nothing he needs to do here to make his family proud, he gained their love and their pride a long time ago and he didn’t need to prove himself to get it.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, grabbing the knife and getting back to the carrot. He can see Taako smiling out of the corner of his eye and his heart swells. “Let’s get this done.”