Work Text:
“We’re all human in the end.”
The small middle schooler looks up from the paper he was scribbling on, the small comment repeating like an annoying baby learning it’s first words. The blonde’s eyes wandered to the person leaning against their makeshift kitchen table, less for family dinners and more as a shield for when fights break out, telling of the scratches, burns, and decayed bits still left over.
“Super human,” the raven-haired man retorts with a scoff, “we may be human, but we’ve evolved.”
The middle schooler blinked between the two adults, feeling insignificant. He thought it would be cool to join their unruly gang of misfits and criminals, wanting to go back to school in the next week and show off his feats with the feared group.
Of course, nothing he planned went accordingly.
They basically accepted him, made him like a little brother. The psycho blonde makes sure he’s safe and protected, the transitioning lady likes making his favorite snacks with no complaints. Their “dad” always has extra clothing and hygiene stuff perfect for his weird, somewhat picky needs. The two men arguing in front of him both had their own ways for treating the youngest; the stapled guy stole the newest video games for him, as the pale one taught him how to play the more retro consoles and how to get the highest score.
He never felt this type of way at home, with his parents, siblings, relatives. His family name has all but been forgotten, not even calling himself by his given name, the one presented to him when he was born. The present rotted, along with everything else he knew.
The news always played in their living space, every couple segments interrupted by a man and woman, looking somewhat familiar, yelling about finding their son that never came home.
Their little Mustard.