Chapter Text
One might think their first broken femur is the biggest challenge for a Murphy man. Or even the first time they’re struck by lightning.
But the most daunting and dangerous challenge for the modern Murphy man is one thing: getting a driver's license.
Milo’s dad, Martin, has been in a total of 36 car wrecks in his 16 years of driving. And it's a miracle, frankly, that the number isn't well over one hundred. It was a miracle that the Murphy family was even able to get insurance at all.
“Now, son,” Martin began, “I won’t be in the car with you when you practice driving, so I need you to listen to me.”
Milo could feel the concern radiating off of his father. It’s usually much easier for Milo to see his mother’s concern about Milo driving, since she’s not very subtle about it.
But seeing the dead-serious look on his fathers face earned him Milo’s full attention.
“I’m going to tell you what my father told me. Your entire life, you’ve learned how to lessen the damage caused by Murphy’s Law. Most of those times, you have your backpack, and full use of your arms and legs.”
Milo looked intently at his father.
“You do not have that luxury behind the wheel. Your backpack will be harder to access. To get things you need, you’ll have to take one or both of your hands off the wheel. Your right foot must remain planted where it has easy access to the brake and the gas.”
Milo was starting to get anxious as he started understanding the gravity of what he was being told.
“In short, you will have to rely on others. Never, I repeat, never drive alone. It will be inconvenient, and annoying, and you might think ‘this one time, it won't happen, it’ll be fine’ -”
Milo briefly wondered why his dad would say that. He’s known since birth that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
“ - and maybe it won't. But there are other people on the road - and car crashes are the number one causes of death in the country. Murphy’s Law becomes infinitely more dangerous in vehicles.”
Milo thinks back to the wrecks his dad had been in while he himself had been in the car. It is pretty normal for the Murphy man to be the most seriously injured. But that didn’t prevent the people in the other cars from losing limbs. Milo has two metal arms, himself.
From what Milo understands about insurance, he now really wonders how they have any in the first place. That might be a question for later.
“That is why many people take defensive driving classes, as you will before you get behind the wheel.”
Milo squinted at his father. He hadn’t even started the driving classes yet. “I guess you and mom have been strategizing?”
“Of course,” Martin says without a moment of hesitation. “This is way too important to just improvise.”
Milo found himself in one of his extremely rare sleepless nights. He knew it was going to kick him in the ass. At least he didn’t have school tomorrow.
The conversation just wouldn’t leave his mind. Milo has had plenty of serious conversations with his father. His first broken bone, his first near-death, his first rejection, his first crush (big yikes). But this was the first one to scare him. And he was scared of (almost) nothing.
He’d lived with Murphy’s Law for 15 years. He knew that things would, and did, go wrong. He knew that people inevitably got hurt the more they were around him. He knew that most people were afraid of him. He knew that, a lot of the time, the best you could do was minimize the damage. He knew that people made mistakes, and he was no exception.
But the simple knowledge that being the driver was an automatic restriction of his ability to handle things - well, that was the scariest thing he could think of. It reminded him of the few times he had lost his backpack. He had been able to navigate those situations, but he had also had, as dad had put it, full use of his arms and legs.
He would be handicapped further. And he knew, then, that he would have to practice. And not behind the wheel, or in any kind of wheeled object. He would have to begin practicing in the safest place he knew. His home. With his friends.