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Mylo laid on a rafter in Vander’s office, staring at the spiders on the ceiling. He was about fifteen feet in the air. Most people wouldn’t even notice that he was there, which was why he was up there. It was where he went when he wanted to be alone. Mylo’s knuckles stung and his cheek ached and there was a throbbing pain in his wrist.
They had been fighting. Not real fighting, just practicing on each other before any of them ever had to use their fists on anyone else. Mylo has taken hits before but he normally doesn’t dish them out so when he punched Vi in the face, he hurt his wrist. And then Vi punched Mylo in the face and now his eye was swollen shut because she actually knew how to throw a punch. They’d decided that punching each other probably wasn’t a good idea so they started punching the wall and that hurt.
Below him, Mylo could feel every one of Vander’s footsteps as he walked up the stairs to the office. When Vander moved, the vibrations traveled throughout the floor and walls and even up to the rafters. Vander had a presence and he didn’t normally bother to mask it. So it came as no surprise when the office door opened and Vander entered. Vander sat down on the chair behind his desk, which groaned under his weight. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Mylo gathered his scattered thoughts before answering, “I tried to train with Vi and Claggor today.”
“How did that go?” Vander asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Why does everything I try hurt?” Mylo asked. He ran his hands through his hair - still shorter than he expected it to be - and groaned.
“Fighting always hurts, Mylo. Even when you’re just training,” Vander replied.
“Does fucking?” Mylo asked, even though he already knew the answer to that one. He continued to stare at the ceiling, at the spiders building webs, because seeing the look on Vander’s face when Mylo brought up the brothel always made Mylo want to cry. And he was close enough to that already without help, thank you very much.
“Not always,” Vander said honestly. “But sometimes it can.”
Mylo rolled off the rafter and landed on Vander’s desk. Thankfully it was a sturdy desk and Mylo didn’t weigh much. He slid his legs down off the edge of the desk and sat on his butt facing Vander.
Vander looked Mylo over and sighed. “Let me see your wrist.”
Mylo held out his wrist for Vander to examine. He studied Vander’s face - familiar and safe and Vander always treated Mama good as he’s treated Mylo good too so far - until he no longer felt like he was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. “Vander,” Mylo said seriously, “Is my whole life going to hurt?”
Vander sighed again. He pushed his chair back and got up, went to the little fridge he kept in the office.
Mylo put his feet on Vander’s chair and felt equal satisfaction and guilt about getting shoe prints on the seat. Mylo rubbed his wrists. The bruising and chafing had long since healed but sometimes Mylo could still feel the phantom weight of the restraints keeping him pinned in place. He wondered what Vander would tell him.
Vander returned to his chair with a bag of ice.
Mylo moved his feet out of the way.
“We don’t have an easy life down here in Zaun, Mylo. It often isn’t kind or fair. There will be times when you will hurt so much that it will seem easier to give up on life,” Vander met Mylo’s eyes, a knowing look in his.
Mylo had - well tried was a strong word but he had come close to - suicide twice since Vander met him. Once when they met and once on his fifteenth birthday. Both times Vander had found and saved him - though Mylo wasn’t sure how - and somehow, against all odds, he was still here.
Vander continued, “The day that I found Vi and Powder, the day that your mother died, was the worst of my life, Mylo. I led my people to slaughter and so many suffered for it. I lost neighbors and friends and family. I lost a brother that day.” Vander touched his arm, the one he wore the leather wrist guard on. Mylo has never seen Vader take it off. “It was chance that Vi and Powder happened by me. They almost didn’t. But we found each other and I couldn’t let them be casualties. I couldn’t stop the way the war hurt them but I could protect them - and Claggor and you, Mylo. Having the four of you around makes my life better and I don’t regret adopting any of you. There will always be hurt in your life but there will also always be good in your life.”
“What if something happens to us?” Mylo asked, frowning. It seemed stupid to put such love in people who could be hurt or killed or could leave you on a whim.
“I’ll be here to protect you or nurse you back to health. Whatever you need.” Vander slowly reached for Mylo’s eye with the ice. He always moved slowly around Mylo, like he thought Mylo would be spooked. Vander gave Mylo a wry smile. “Besides, you’re all learning how to take care of yourselves and each other. Soon I won’t have to worry about you at all.”
“I’m not like them! I’m not good at anything, Vander!” Mylo exclaimed, thrusting his hands out and accidentally batting away Vander’s hand. He dropped his hands into his lap.
Vander put the ice pack back against Mylo’s swollen eye. He was gentle despite his massive size. He looked into Mylo’s eyes, his expression a mixture of pity and amusement.
“Don’t give me that look!” Mylo protested.
Vander chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, Mylo. I’m just imagining how the four of you will be in the future.” He brought Mylo’s hand up to hold the ice pack by himself and then looked at Mylo’s wrist again. “It isn’t broken.”
“I know it isn’t broken,” Mylo hissed. He knew what broken bones felt like. This was probably just a tiny fracture. He was fifteen, and had been with Vander at The Last Drop for a little over a year. Mylo liked it, for the most part, and his ranking for it was definitely way above the brothel. But. But Mylo wasn’t like Vander’s other kids. He didn’t have a special skill.
Mylo wasn’t a bruiser like Vi and Claggor. He wasn’t a tech genius like Powder. The special skills he had at the brothel - being able to run faster and climb higher than anyone else there - wasn’t special here. And it wasn’t like beating Powder was any fun because she was the baby and therefore she had short legs and less time to learn than Mylo had. “Claggor and Vi are so cool and even Powder has a special skill but I’m...I’m just nothing.” Mylo hunched over and hugged himself with one hand, taking the ice off his face. Lowering his voice, Mylo confided, “I wasn’t even good at being a sex worker when I lived at the brothel.”
Vander took the ice from Mylo and put it on his wrist over the swollen, bruised fracture. “Mylo, learning how to do something well takes time and effort. Vi and Claggor chose to put their efforts into becoming bruisers.”
“Taking after you,” Mylo muttered.
Vander’s smile was fond and proud. “Probably. But Powder isn’t taking after me. She found what she liked to do and she’ll work at it until her gadgets work.”
“Bombs,” Mylo corrected under his breath. He stared at his scraped knuckles and swollen wrist. He wasn’t going to give up trying to throw a punch as good as the ones that Vi and Claggor threw...but maybe Vander was right. “But what can I do? I don’t want to do what Powder does.”
Vander opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small bit of rolled up leather. “I was waiting for the right time to give you these.”
Mylo took it and untied the strings. He unrolled the leather. Inside were various metal tools. Mylo had no idea what they were for...but one was shaped kind of like a key. He looked at Vander questioningly.
“It’s a lock pick set,” Vander explained. He put a hand on Mylo’s shoulder. “You’re fast and nimble and have the makings of a good thief. If that interests you.”
Mylo’s eyes widened. He touched the lock picks reverently. If he mastered picking locks, no one could ever lock him up again. Mylo would have the keys to the universe. Being a thief would just be a bonus. No one could ever lock him up again!! No one could restrain him! Mylo would always be free. He set the lock pick kit aside and threw his arms around Vander’s neck. “Thank you,” Mylo whispered.
Vander wrapped Mylo in a massive - but gentle - hug. He was warm and safe and nothing could ever hurt Mylo while Vander was there. “You’re welcome.”
Though he could have stayed in Vander’s arms, Mylo pulled away after a few minutes. He wasn’t a child anymore. He didn’t need his dad to hold him to chase the monsters away. “Now how do I use these?”
Vander laughed. “Let me show you.”