Work Text:
Namor adjusts his headdress, tightening the strap under his chin. "Are you sure I don't look silly?"
"No more than usual," Attuma grins, crossing his thick arms over his chest. Namor rolls his eyes; that's the pot calling the kettle black. His cousin- that ridiculous man- had decided to don a Left Shark costume. His face is poking out of the costume's mouth, his head framed by felt teeth and every time he gestures, his light blue fins flail in the air.
"You look fine, yuum. Now can we go?" Namora bounces on her feet. her costume consists of an orange and white dress, orange and gold colored ribbons moving violently and she jumps up and down. Faux feathers and plastic shells line her wrists and neck, giving off the look of fins themselves. The eight-year-old has followed her uncle in his obsession with marine animals. Every morning there was a new fact about marine life she learned at school she was eager to share. Recently they all seemed to be lionfish centered. She's not really paying attention to her father and uncle, eyes glued to the rows and rows of cars behind them.
Namor can't help but smile. "Of course, my love, we can go."
Namora practically vibrates between her father and uncle and they walk into the sign-in table. A young man dressed like a spider sits at the sign-in table, next to a haybale decorated with pumpkins and signs that says 'ANNUAL TALOKANDA TRUNK-OR-TREAT' and 'HAPPY HALLOWEEN'. Attuma scribbles their names on the sheet quickly, having to dart after Namora as she continues.
The Trunk-or-treat had been a last-minute decision. Dorma had never liked these kinds of community events. She was more likely to host a charity gala as opposed to throwing a bake sale. She was a classy woman, intelligent and beautiful with standards to match. Handing out obscene amounts of candy to hundreds of children in a high school parking lot would not be something Namor thinks she would enjoy. He loves it though. That his daughter found joy in it too made some of the weight drop off his shoulders.
Moving back home was supposed to be good for them. His mother's house had been sitting empty since Namora was three, just waiting for a family to fill it with happiness again. At the time, Dorma had just made partner at her law firm, and Namor had started his new position at a private school. Being close to the city made sense at the time. Now, all Namor wants is quiet, and he wants that for his daughter, as well. It's been difficult for her- for them all. The house was in dire need of repairs and the cost to move was more than what they bargained for. He had uprooted their lives to start somewhere new and it was tiring. At least Namora seemed happy- even if it was just at the prospect of eating too much candy.
The parking lot is busy. Lots of people volunteered their cars and even more showed up to the events. Children flit from car to car, and there's laughter in the air. Namor observes their decorations, keeping a watchful eye as his daughter gets candy from each of the vendors. Some people have gone all out covering their trunks in cobwebs and dressed in matching costumes. Others had made whole booths with games and prizes. There's one decorated to look like the Mystery Machine and the family themselves dressed as Mystery Incorporated. "You never told me how you found out about this," Namor muses.
"So there's this woman-"
"Of course there is."
Attuma smacks his brother over the head with a fin at Namor's short laugh. "I'm telling you Namor, it's different this time. I think Koko might be the one."
Namora stops short and looks over her shoulder, ensuring her guardians aren't too far behind, before turning back to the mission at hand. She snags some mini Snickers from a woman in red tights, quickly moving onto a car that looks like a neon-colored spaceship. She doesn't look too happy about the peanut clusters the man listening to his Walkman throws her way. Namor takes a sip out of the water bottle he brought in with them.
"You don't understand, man," the marine biologist laments. "She's so gorgeous and strong. I already have our kids' names picked out in my head. They're gonna be beautiful."
His brother was a bit of a romantic. Most would call that delusional, but Namor knew Attuma. He had a large heart and so much love to give. It had led him down the wrong path on many an occasion, but lately this 'Koko' had Attuma all up in knots. It was quite impressive to see. "And how did you find out about it again?"
"Right well, she's friends with on with one of the organizers. Overheard her talking about it at the gym and thought it would be something fun to bring Namora to."
They make it to the food truck area, a hired cover band cycling throw every 80s song in existence. Namora has stopped for a moment, digging throw her goody bag to see what she's gathered so far. the sun is already getting lower, a slight chill coming over them. "So you decided to follow her here based on a conversation you listened in on."
Attuma makes a face. "Well, when you say it like that I sound creepy."
"It is," Namor chuckles. He meanders slowly forward, careful to keep some distance. Before coming here, Namora had insisted that she was 'a big girl' and old enough to trick-or-treat by herself. The words put a pit in Namor's stomach. Logically he knew the event was safe- there were security guards milling about in black uniforms, tasers and mace strapped to their side if anyone got too unruly. Letting her wander a little bit was the point after all. Still. His parental instinct flared every time someone got to close, or something blocked her from view.
"Who knows," Attuma's voice cuts through his thoughts. "Maybe she has a friend we can set you up with."
The corner of his mouth quirks down a bit at that. he hasn't been with anyone since Dorma. Was two years enough to get back out there? No. She'd left scars that wouldn't heal for some time; best not to drag anyone else through that as well. Besides that was his daughter to think about. The move was enough change for now, his little girl was finally smiling again, it could wait. Namora is strong; his little fighter. She was the best thing that ever happened to him and she-
-was nowhere to be found.
"Namora?" It claws at the skin, panic does. The way it gnaws on a nerve, breath caught in your chest in anticipation. Dread covers Namor like the makeshift cloak he wears. He forgets Attuma for a second, eyes searching the crowd for a flash of orange, silky black hair, and puka shells. "Namora!"
"Baba!"
He's already moving towards her, the sound of her voice strained. He finds her on the ground, her candy bucket spilled around her, and bright red blood on her leg. There's a little boy next to her with black ears on his head and rollerblades on his feet. He looks between Namora and her fuming father wide-eyed. "It was an accident!"
Namor ignores him and kneels. The wound is more of a scrape than anything else. It's large and superficial, but it makes his heart beat fast seeing her bleed. "What happened, my love?"
"I'm okay, yuum," Namora groans. She flexes her little hands, little scratches on her palms from catching herself. "It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
"Baby, you're bleeding."
"I'm so sorry," the boy pipes up again. He braces his palms underneath himself, pushing up to stand with Attuma's help. "I didn't mean to go so fast. Is she hurt?"
"She's bleeding." Namor tries not to be annoyed- it was clearly an accident and no one was seriously injured. But it was Namora and he's often been accused of being overprotective.
"My aunt can help!" The little boy pipes up, trying to be helpful. "She's a doctor."
Before he can say anything, the boy heads off into the crowd. Namor gives his brother an incredulous look. The shark only shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. Namor turns his attention back to his daughter, who's trying to keep all her spilled candy from being trampled on. The pout on her pretty face makes his heartache. "Can you stand?"
She responds with a nod, wincing when she tries to bend her leg. The crowd has given them a small space to work, people walking around them like they aren't there. They don't sit there for long, though, moving to a bench set up near the food trucks. They're just getting her leg propped up when the boy returns with a gap tooth smile, followed by a lightly accented voice saying, "Oh, T'Challa boy, what have you done now?"
Namor looks up from his daughter to find a woman with the little boy. A very beautiful woman. She's younger than him though just as tall. She's dressed in a white lab coat, elbow-length black gloves, and a thick pair of goggles resting on her forehead. She kneels to get to eye level with Namora, opening the first aid kit she brought with her. The smile she gives the little girl is completely brilliant. "Hello. My nephew says you had an accident can I see?"
Namora eyes the woman warily, looking to her father first before holding out her leg for the woman to look at. The woman rises to sit on the other side of Namora. Her hair is cut short, shorn on the sides and in the back and an abundance of black curls piled atop her head. Her eyes are dark too- an inky shade of black he wasn't aware existed. It's clear she is the little boy's aunt- he can see the familial resemblance in their dimples when they smile and the shape of their nose. Namor is broken out of his thoughts by the woman asking for his water bottle. He hands it over dumbly, trying not to stare but finds it difficult. "What's your name?"
"Namor." Belatedly, he realizes that she is asking his daughter, not him. Her eyes are suddenly on him. He saves himself by not cringing, recovering by putting an arm around the preteen. "This is my daughter, Namora, and my brother Attuma."
The woman grants him a small smile, wetting a napkin and cleaning her patient's knee. Namora hisses in pain but doesn't yank away as the doctor puts disinfectant on it. The woman gently praises her. "My name is Shuri. And this is my nephew Toussaint."
"Shuri?" A woman with head tattoos walks up. she's dressed up in some tastefully tattered clothes and face makeup to look like she is a ghoul. Attuma's face within the shark's mouth lights up at the sight of her.
"It's okay, Okoye," Shuri says, eyes still on Namora's knee as she takes out a bandage. "False alarm, no one's badly hurt."
Okoye huffs. "I swear, that boy." The child in question flushes, inching behind Attuma. "Scared my employees half to death about someone losing their leg."
"Eh, nothing so serious, see?" Shuri finishes the leg, Namora's knee now covered in gauze. "all better. Don't even need pain meds."
"Koko?"
She turns, shoulders tensing a little and an annoyed look on her face. Attuma only smiles wider. "Not you again."
"Just gimme a chance," Attuma says. "I promise I can-"
"No."
"Just one more sparing lesson, please."
She's fighting a smile, Namor can tell. "You are relentless."
Namor shakes his head at his brother's antics. If this was the 'Koko' he'd been talking about for months, he had his work cut out for him. His attention turns back to Namora as she stands. It hurts to bend the knee, but she can still walk on it. The boy- Toussaint, T'Challa, one of the two- returns while Attuma and Okoye carry on. He's got Namora's candy bag in hand, filled with fewer goodies than what she originally collected. Someone must've taken some once it got dropped. "Sorry I knocked you over," he apologizes sheepishly. "I'll be more careful next time."
"That's okay. You wanna come help me get some more?"
Toussaint looks over to his aunt for permission, taking Namora's hand and leading her away in search of more sugar. Namor almost stops them. the protest dies in his throat once he feels Shuri's slight hand on his knee. the reassuring squeeze sends heat through him as she watches him with dark eyes. "They'll be okay. Okoye's Dora won't let anything happen to them."
he feels himself relaxing, implicitly trusting her despite the fact they just met. He leans back against the wooden table. "Thank you for this. Really."
"It was nothing, anyone would've done that," Shuri waves her hand putting the gauze and tape back into the first aid pack she brought. "And it's just a flesh wound. Hardly brain surgery."
"Not to a parent. Every cut or scrape feels like a knife wound to yourself. Feels like my heart is running around outside my chest all the time and there's nothing to do but let it. So thank you for that. For helping to fix her up when I couldn't."
The look Shuri gives him is soft. She's empathetic, he can tell. Someone who cares about others and tries to help where she can. She's like him in a sense. It's why he started teaching again.
"Is that what you do?"
"Hm?"
"Brain surgery."
"Oh! No." She stands, brushing the dirt off her lab coat. "I'm a pediatric oncologist at Talokanda Northside."
"Heavy stuff."
"It's my passion," Shuri shrugs. "I can't imagine doing anything else. That's why I like to organize these kinds of events. All the donations and proceeds are going to research funding."
"You helped organize this?"
Her nod makes his heart flutter a bit. Smart, generous, beautiful. It's like Chaac himself put her in his path.
"So, you're a doctor, and you decided to wear your work clothes as a costume?"
"I'm Frankenstein!"
Namor frowns, giving her outfit a once-over. She looks more like a mad scientist than the undead. She notices the look and huffs a laugh. "The doctor, not the monster. Okoye is playing my creature."
that would explain the other woman's makeup. Namor glances at her and his brother, who are now arguing in a more hushed manner much closer together.
"Well, what of you? Are you... A dinosaur?"
Namor raises a brow. He sees Namora and Toussaint weave in and out of the crowd. She doesn't even look like she remembers she was hurt. "A dinosaur."
"You know." She gestures to her own head, pantomiming the look of his headdress. "With the feathers and the scales and the snake head."
"I'm Aj K'ulk'ulkan, the feathered serpent and a god in my culture."
Shuri hums, tucking her kit under her arm. "We have many gods in my culture as well. I don't remember any of them that look so..." If he didn't know any better, she would have looked shy to him. He tries not to preen under the attention, the vain part of him happy he is having an effect on her as well. All too soon Shuri breaks her gaze. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I'm sorry about Toussaint, that boy can be so excitable."
"Ah, I understand. Namora can be the same way. Kids, you know?" They share a laugh, thinking of the high jinks of their wards.
"Still. I'd like to repay you." Namor doesn't know what's come over him. Just a minute ago, he'd written off the chance of ever going on a date, and now he can't seem to get her number fast enough. "How about a coffee? Monday morning?"
It seems to catch Shuri off guard, and her expression makes Namor rethink everything. "I can't do coffee Monday. I have a surgery I'm on call for." He silently curses his bad luck. Maybe he'd been right before. It's not the right time to get back out there. But then Shuri looks back up, full lips perking up. The coils of her black hair bounce gently next to her face as she tilts her head. "But you can buy me a funnel cake right now?"
Thank Chaac. Namor's surprised at the relief that comes from her words. it also brings the realization that he hadn't expected her to actually say yes. It must show how gobsmacked he is because Shuri giggles at his open mouth. "You get the food and the drinks. I'll wrangle my cousin and your brother, okay?"
Namor's left sitting in his place as the doctor walks away from him. he takes another sip of his water bottle, throat suddenly dry. It's been two years since Dorma. He never thought he'd even be interested in another person like he was with her. But something about this Shuri... It was electric. He hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words with her, and yet he didn't want to stop talking to her. The only upside to her walking away from him is that he got a good view of her firm-looking backside under that lab coat. Even still, maybe flirting with a doctor while he's still new to town isn't the best idea.
He looks up through the steady stream of people, making sure Namora is okay again. His beautiful girl wasn't even looking for him, a group of kids (Toussaint included) huddled around as she tells them about the last time Attuma took her to the beach and found a man o' war. There's so much candy in her bag now it's close to overflowing, and Namor can already feel the headache coming on, thinking about the excess energy and future cavities.
But she's happy. Safe. Adjusting well. She's going to be okay, his little fighter.
He taps the table, fishing for his wallet out of his costume for when he gets the funnel cakes. Maybe it's time he felt safe and happy and without worry. Even for a little bit. Shuri looks over her shoulder, trying to get the bickering couple to come sit down, and shrugs. For the first time in a long time, he can feel the stress melting away, worry temporarily dissolving as he watches her.
Turns out he’d been right: trick-or-treating hadn’t been a bad idea at all.