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“Wha- Hey!” With a shove, Hugo was thrown off the seat of the wagon and onto the dirt road. He picked himself up and dusted himself off, scrambling to get back on before Varian took his seat and shook his head. “You tricked me!”
It was just a routine trip to the Iron Kingdom for some parts from the marketplace, or at least it was supposed to be. Dammit, he really got lured in with a kiss on the cheek and the promise of finding a good deal.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, but if you don’t talk to her then I’m going home. Alone.” And with that the boy flicked the reigns and hurried off down the road, leaving Hugo standing on the street in front of his childhood home. Home- the place he was actively avoiding since that day.
It was a routine letter from his mother, with her loopy handwriting on the envelope. He had set it down on his desk and told Varian he’d read it later. He’d read it later, and when later came around his eyes scanned over the pages, hearing about machinery plans, gossip from Yong and Nuru, and experiments. On the end there was a note for him to come see her as soon as he could. Donella never asked for that so he left right away despite it being dark out.
Upon arriving at her door, she was wearing gloves. Not work gloves, though she never wore those anyways, leather gloves meant for everyday wear. That was- strange. And for the next hour Hugo was sat down as Donella explained to him her latest research on magic and especially corrupted magic. She always told them, she always told him not to dabble in unfamiliar spells- to play things safe so why did she of all people decide to do this? He knew, he still asked the question but he knew why. It was guilt, that festering feeling that clung to her heart like vines to stone, threatening to squeeze and squeeze until it was unbearable.
That was the thing about scars. They were a reminder of old pains. And not just the ones on her face. People did anything they could to try and fix them, to forget them. Even irrational things. Scar tissue was dangerous, it built and built when wounds didn’t heal correctly, and when a heart was overwhelmed with too many scars, it stopped beating.
Corrupted magic was what took Ulla away from her, and now it would take her away from him.
Something went wrong, that’s how she said it. So casually like a metal sheet warping or drill bit snapping in half. Something went very wrong, and she had pulled off her gloves to reveal her hands with withered black fingertips. And though the discoloration didn’t affect her motor skills or cause her pain, it would only continue to spread from her hands, up her arms, and down her shoulders until it reached her heart. And then- it would be over. She had time, an estimated 8 months, maybe a year if she was lucky.
After she explained all this, so casually too as if this was just another inconvenience, another task on the schedule. Take out the trash, dust the shelves, rearrange the jars for the third time that week, die. Hugo couldn’t stand it, how she was so nonchalant about the situation, how she didn’t seem to care. He left that day and didn’t return. He didn’t return for a month and letters were answered at a trickle. While Donella noticed it she didn’t say anything. She let him have his space like she did after the Library was first opened. She kept writing though, penned sentences and stories together to fill the space enough for both of them. But Hugo couldn’t bring himself to delight in Yong’s first big presentation or even Nuru’s new portrait getting ruined on the first day. How could he when all Hugo saw were the blackened fingers that wrote those messages?
He confided in his husband, who promptly told him to get off his ass and see her. It wasn’t an argument, more a discussion as Hugo laid his head in Varian’s lap and felt his fingers run through his hair.
‘If I could have had more time with my mother, I would have taken it. Just think about it.’
Well at the end of the month thinking about it turned into getting tricked into seeing her- but whatever. He knew Varian was well-meaning and, if he was really honest, he was starting to feel the vine-like fingers of guilt in his own chest.
Walking up to the porch, he paused for a moment before opting to pick the lock rather than knock, Hey- for old times sake. Pushing open the door, his gaze drifted in instinct to her desk, seeing Donella hunched over writing. Of course, she was working. When did that woman ever stop working? She lifted her head when she heard the door open and her face lit up. His lips always pulled into a small smile when that happened, when she looked so happy and excited and alive. Not just surviving day to day but truly living. Donella sprung up from her chair, leaving her pen on the desk, and walked over.
“Hugo! You didn’t tell me you were visiting today. Is Varian with you?” She asked as she took his hand and instead of her cool fingers, he felt those gloves. Oh, she was wearing them around the house now.
He shook his head and gave her hands a little squeeze, closing the door with his heel. “No, ma. It’s just me. Can I stay for a bit?”
“Stay the whole week if you’d like, I’ve been dying to see you.” Donella chuckled under her breath at that and turned, holding his hand and dragging him inside. The second her back turned, Hugo’s face fell.
“Mom, are you-” His voice fell quiet as he was dragged through the house and brought into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table he watched Donella mill around and get them two mugs before putting on a pot of coffee. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Me? Oh, I’m fine.” She sat down once the cups were ready and handed Hugo’s his with already the right amount of milk but no sugar. Don didn’t like him drinking too much sugar. “Besides this new ass of a client, I just got. But I guess that won’t be my problem soon.”
Once again Hugo’s face fell and it was like his breath plummeted to his shoes. He looked away when she turned around.
“Oh and I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d want the lab when I’m gone. There’s a bunch of garbage here and I know you live at the Library now but I thought maybe you’d-”
“I don’t because you’re not going anywhere!” He blurted it out so quickly and set his raised cup on the table a little harder than intended. Some of the hot coffee spilled over the edge and both he and Donella reached for the napkins to clean it up. She hesitated before though, blinking at him with a confused expression. “Varian and I talked. Let us help you, we looked into magical illnesses and curses and we think that maybe-”
“No.”
Hugo paused, he froze mid-wipe and looked up at her. Donella stared at the spill and quietly finished cleaning, getting up to toss the napkins. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“Exactly what you think I mean. No.”
“You don’t understand what I’m saying!” Hugo snapped and everything he had been feeling over that month, frustration at Don for doing something so reckless, anger at himself for not stopping her, fear and sadness and guilt, came flooding out. “If you would just listen to me-”
“No Hugo, I do understand!” Her tone got firmer and she turned around. Even after all this time, he was still silenced by that look in her eyes. It was sharp and cold and stubborn. So stubborn. “You want me to sit in the Library with you and Varian for the last of my very short months letting you two tinker away with potions and spells and treatments keeping us all miserable until I croak. And then you’ll feel responsible for it.”
She scoffed quietly and sat back down, lifting her mug to her lips and taking a sip. All Hugo could do was stare at her hands while images of her sickly black fingers flashed in his mind. Black, the color of death. “How do you know what I’ll feel?”
“Because I know you. And you’re like that.” Donella gestured to him and tilted her head slightly in confusion, not even judgment. “Like right now- what's wrong, why are you crying?”
He touched his face and there it was, that little teardrop that slipped from his eye so quickly he didn’t even notice it. Hugo sniffed and wiped his face on the back of his sleeve even when Donella handed him a napkin.
“Why am I crying?” He snapped and huffed at her in frustration. “I’m crying because my mother is going to die, my mom! And she doesn’t even seem to care!”
Putting the napkin down in front of him, Donella pulled her hands away. She stared down at the table and Hugo realized she was looking at a small puddle of tears that formed beneath him. He wiped at it furiously. When she spoke her voice was soft but also irritated, which was a line Donella often walked with him.
“Do you know what happens to people who are kept alive by magic? They might as well be dead- they’re dependent on that stuff for life, they can't do anything- I am not going to spend my life trapped. I’m going out on my terms, Hugo! And I’d really love it if you could respect that.” She paused for a moment and Hugo opened his mouth to speak before she held up a hand. “I will not spend the end of my life holding you back.”
“You won’t be holding me back!” He was screaming at her. He didn’t even plan on shouting it just came out. Hugo slammed his palms on the table and even Donella flinched a little. His seat toppled over from the force of him standing up. “Why can’t you act like- look at your hand!”
He lunged across the table and was about to grab her before Hugo stopped. He took in a breath and shook his head. “I’m- I’m sorry.”
He whispered out, all the fight draining from him as he put his chair back up and sat down.
“If you want to see, just ask.” Her tone was calm and that just fired him up again. Why was she so nonchalant about this? Why did she have to resist him on this? She could get on his ass about cleaning tools and whether to organize books by author or publication date but this?
She tugged at the middle finger of the glove before pulling the rest off, and Hugo’s jaw clenched. It was spreading, the black that previously rested on just the tips of her fingers was at her knuckles, an inky black gradient that made him sick to his stomach with worry.
“How can you see that and not freak out?!” He spat out with an exasperated tone, furious with her indifference. Groaning, his hand lifted and he pinched the bridge of her nose in the manner he always saw Don do as a child. He was turning into his mother. “Well, maybe I would if it was hindering me. But it’s not so,” She slipped her hand back into the glove and pulled it down over her wrist. “I talked it over with the professional I’ve been seeing, I’ve come to terms with it. I nearly have everything in order and I’ll let the others know. And I’ll spend the rest of my time with you all until it’s done.”
By professional Donella meant the therapist she started to see after the Library. Hugo remembered her letters detailing how she was getting better. He had been so happy- so proud of her then- he was so proud.
“But you don’t have to! There are ways, there is a Library filled with knowledge at our disposal that we can use to help you!” He felt heat rushing to his face as he spoke, hitting his hand into his opposite palm as he scolded her. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? You will not hold me back! I want to take care of you! I love you! Just- why won’t you let me help you?! You need this!”
He watched the gears turning in her mind as she folded her gloved hands on the table and shook her head. Right, what did he expect? “You say that- but I will. Ask yourself, Hugo, do I really need this? Or do you?”
And with that phrase, those three letters, it was like all the anger left him. Truly left him. Rage was an easy emotion, it was simple and defensive and not vulnerable. It was easy to mask other feelings behind it, like fear. But with her, when she laid it all face up on the table, there was nowhere to hide. The tears became stronger, he heard Donella’s chair push back with a screech but his vision was too blurred to see it. When he blinked the fat tears clung to his eyelashes. She sat down in the chair next to him, and Hugo found himself dissolving into her arms. They held him tightly as he sobbed into her shoulder, and her hands ran through his hair.
“I can’t- I can’t- I can’t do this, Don!” He whined out into her chest and at this point, he was sitting in her lap like he would when he was little. She’d be up late working and he’d run into the lab absolutely wailing. And even then despite all her anger and guilt and heartbreak she’d pick him up and hold him while he cried. It was one of his earliest clear memories, being surrounded by her embrace. Life before that was a blur of alleyways and food scraps. “You are the first person- the first thing I could count on. I can’t lose you. I can’t go on without you.”
He tried to imagine it. A clock counting down the months, the days, the hours until it hit zero. And after that point there would be no more witty letters back and forth, no more Christmases spent in sleeping bags at her place, no more obnoxious group hugs in public settings that she pretended to hate. There would be no more her. And he was just supposed to keep on living after that?
“I’m doing it this way because I know what it’s like to be hung up on someone. I can’t do that to you. If you could stop this, if you and Varian found a way to slow it down there would always be a catch. Magic’s a bitch.” At that Hugo was able to chuckle just the tiniest amount, though it felt heavy and dull.
“It’d be what? Two years, maybe three of endless checkups and spells? Not to mention you worrying about it suddenly not working anymore. It’s not worth it, my love.” He choked a little on a sob and Donella stopped. She stopped talking and pressed a kiss to his forehead after wiping the corners of his eyes.
“You think I want to leave you?” Donella whispered softly once his sobs had calmed down and quieted into just a stream of tears. He pulled away and they fell down his cheeks and met at his chin. His mother wiped them away on the finger of her glove. “Hugo, I-”
She paused for a moment before quickly slipping off the accessories and placing them in her lap. Her hands, that familiar cool touch, rested on his cheeks and held his face. “Hugo, I've only loved three things in my life. Three. Ulla, my work, and you kids.”
He leaned into her right hand and nodded, feeling her thumbs wipe away his tears as they fell. “And I never thought- after she was trapped- that I’d have anything to miss when it was all over besides some hunks of metal.” Her voice was breaking as she spoke and Donella’s green eyes looked up slightly to contain her tears. They didn’t fall and she took a breath, blinked, and held it together. “But then you crashed into my life and then you brought Varian, and Nuru and Yong, and you even brought me closer to Cyrus, and now it’s harder than ever to leave all this behind. You- you messed up my plans like you always seem to do.”
She chuckled and blinked again though Hugo could see how her eyes were getting glossy.
“I’m really good at that.” He mused and Donella laughed a little harder, closing her eyes and then proceeding to wipe at them with her hands before ruffling his hair. She shook her head and sniffed when she opened them again.
“If I didn’t think this was the best way I wouldn’t be doing it. If I didn’t think you were ready to be without me then I wouldn’t. But you’ve been ready for a long time.” Hugo opened his mouth to protest but she just put a finger on his lips and he closed them promptly. “When I took you in, all I knew was that I wanted to make sure you didn’t make the same mistakes I did. And so far, with Varian and the Library, I think you’re doing pretty good.”
Her voice cracked again but she cleared her throat and it returned to normal. Donella straightened up and lifted her chin a bit. “So the least you can do is trust that I’ve raised you well enough to move on. Can you do that, please?”
Hugo sat back and shook his head, taking her hands and squeezing. “I’m not just going to act like you never existed-”
She wrinkled her nose and Hugo paused with a little grin on his face. It was always endearing to him when Donella pulled that expression. “Who said anything about that? Sure, put up a picture or something, throw a party or a funeral or whatever the hell you wanna call it, keep some of my things in your room. Grieve or whatever for as long as you need but then, after that, move on.” Her hands shifted in his own and her inky thumbs traced over his knuckles. His shoulders started shaking and Don’s face fell when she thought he was about to cry again. Instead, he looked up, and yes his eyes were watery but he was smiling. He was giggling.
“You’re so- I don’t even know.” He scoffed lightly and raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her darkened knuckles. “But you’re also a great mom. I’m so lucky you chose me.”
“Hey- none of that.” She used her free hand to affectionately punch his shoulder. “I wasn’t that great for a while and we both know that. I’m the lucky one, to have chosen a kid who waited for me and took me back. You’re a great kid, Hugo. Which is-”
Her voice died off while a single tear fell down her cheek. This time Hugo wiped it away for her, grazing over the raised skin there. Maybe a long time ago she would have flinched, but his mother hadn’t done that for years. “Which is why I’m going to miss you so much. And I’m gonna be waiting for you, when you’re ready. But in the meantime don’t you dare stop living because I’m not there. Life’s too short, Hugh, to get hung up on one person.”
She should know. Hugo nodded and threw himself against her for another tighter hug. Donella rested her head against his temple, feeling the wet tears on her neck but also his lips grinning. She rubbed his back and held him close even though her legs were starting to fall asleep. He wasn’t as small as he once was.
“Now, quit your crying. I’m not dead yet.”