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Chapter Text

Vee Tower, Pride Ring, Hell. Year 2020 - Pre-Series

Cooking.  

A staple activity for humanity. One that reached back to the days of old, where groups hovered over open fires to cook their hunts. A grown necessity and an enjoyed activity in the centuries that followed. 

It was one he enjoyed greatly. 

It wouldn’t be something anyone would expect, not when looking at him. Most would barely even think he’d stepped into a kitchen, yet be capable of having the ability to cook, likely just believing he survived only on electricity or maybe even energy drinks if they were to push it.

That was a complete lie. 

Despite having a tv for a head and a mostly metallic body, he could eat, he had to eat, he enjoyed eating. He was a big foodie and in that came a love for cooking. 

The flavours, the sweet, the sour and the spicy. The textures. The smells.

And mixing them together and making something from that was the fun part of it. The best part of it.

Cooking was his escape, a way he could wind down after a long and busy day of boring meetings and staring at monitors, because as much as he loved technology and his company, it was his job, something that even he needed a break from from time to time. It was a break in his, sometimes, bland and very similar days.

In his human years as a teen, when he was an overworked and underpaid cook at a small shitty diner, in a tiny kitchen barely big enough to move around in, it would have been the opposite, but now he loved it because he was cooking for his own enjoyment, for himself. Able to now experiment and test flavours in different ways, something that back then he and his family were most of the restricted from due to money issues and were left most of the time with much blander and cheaper ingredient options which usually made a meal just enough to satisfy an appetite and hardly for a spectacle of taste.

His love for cooking was also a tribute to his wonderful mother, the one who’d taught him everything she knew after his begging from the ripe, young age of 4, guiding his hands with her gentle but firm teachings until she was too sick to even get out of bed. The one who was hopefully living her life in Heaven to the fullest in a way she hadn’t been able to on Earth, along with his two younger siblings, Susie and Ben, who he hoped had made it up there and that his Mom managed to reunite with.

He still adhered to her teachings even decades later and occasionally he found himself making one of her dishes which she’d taught him, though adding different spices and ingredients which she hadn’t had access to at the time. They were always a huge hit with the other Vee’s.

Being the only of the trio that could actually cook, he found himself being the one to cook dinner for the three of them everyday. Not that he minded of course, the day he let Val or Velvette in the kitchen would be the day he was impaled by an angelic spear, which meant never unless he wanted Vee Tower to burn to the ground. 

No, that would never happen. Not on his watch. Not in his kitchen it wouldn’t anyway.

Vox was brought out his thoughts, head snapping up as the sound of the timer for the oven beeped and straightened from where he was hunching over the countertop and swept towards the oven to peek if the contents was ready.

Tonight was a dinner of chicken enchiladas with a grilled corn salad. A tester for his cooking segment on his show tomorrow and a recipe that he hadn’t tried before.

His eyes ran scrutinisingly over the steaming, tasty-looking enchiladas before he deemed them cooked enough and slipped on his oven gloves to remove the tray, the stream leaving slight condensation on his screen as he held it and put it on the counter.

He quickly wiped his screen with a towel to remove the condensation and then he rushed to grab plates and began to plate up the enchiladas and grilled corn salad, giving everyone a similar portion size, and leaving enough remaining for anyone who wanted seconds. He then spent a few moments making it look nice, because presentation was very important.

Once he was done, he grabbed Velvette and Val’s plates first and swept into the dining room where Velvette and Val were waiting at the table.

“Hey V!” Velvette looks up from her phone as he entered, swinging her legs off from the table and scooting her chair in. “Whats on the menu for tonight? I’m fucking starving.” 

“Chicken enchiladas with a grilled corn salad. This is a tester my cooking segment tomorrow, so give me your honest review and critiques.” He placed one plate in front of Velvette, who’s pupils grew with hunger as they fell on her meal, before moving a placing down Val’s.

“Gracias Mi Vida.” Val reached and pressed a kiss to the side of his screen. “It looks increíble. I don’t think I’ll find any issues with it.”

“Me either, this looks fucking amazing V.” Velvette praised, snapping a few aesthetic shots of the meal on her phone.

“Thanks guys.” He grinned pridefully as he straightened, absorbing the praise like a sponge as he always did about his cooking. “But seriously, be honest, I can’t be cooking this tomorrow if it tastes like dog shit.” He called back as he walked back into the kitchen to grab his own plate and the cutlery for him and the rest before returning and taking his seat.

Velvette and Val were right though, it did look good. But the meal looking good was nothing compared to the taste. He’d done some slight tasting at intervals during the cooking process as any cook does, but he had yet to taste the final product.

But he didn’t allow himself to just yet, passing out the cutlery, and waiting for Val and Val to start first.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself V, I’m sure it’ll taste just as good as it looks.” Velvette argued, before taking the first bite of her enchilada. 

He waited in impatience as she chewed, his mechanical heart fluttering nervously as he waited for her review. If this was bad, he’d have to find another recipe to showcase tomorrow.

His nervousness faded as she let out a moan, her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck V. How do you fucking do it?” 

He sighed in relief. Okay, a good response. That meant it wasn’t awful.

Val took a bite next, and though is reaction wasn’t as vocal as Velvette’s, him shovelling in another mouthful as soon as he’d finished his first was good enough of an answer. 

He took that cue to start his own, cutting off a small bit of his enchilada before popping it into his digital mouth. 

The flavours burst on his tongue and tastebuds and he hummed in enjoyment. It was so good. Then he tried to the salad. It was just as good.

Not to be self-centred and what not, but he had to mentally pat himself on the back. He was a fucking good cook.

He had another mouthful and then another. Filling the empty pit in his stomach as he remembered he’ missed lunch because he’d had a meeting.

“Honestly V, I had no idea why you didn’t go into the restaurant business. You’d make a bloody killing with your cooking.” Velvette bemoaned, having finished her enchiladas and moved onto her corn salad.

He shuddered just thinking about it. “Ugh, never again. I already had the taste of that in life and I would never go back.” Even if this time around, he would be calling all the shots, he wouldn't go back into the food industry even if you paid him too.

Soon, the plates were empty, with the red and yellow stains of sauce and cheese being the only remainder of the meal, Val’s and Velvette’s more so as they had gone back for seconds and were now bickering over who got the remaining for a third portion.

He found himself smiling, not his usual wide grin or his smirk, but a smaller but genuine smile as he watched. 

Its not often he felt reflective, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. 

Sometimes he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have this. 

His life when he was human hadn’t been….easy to say the least.

And growing up, his life had been difficult, a struggle. After his Mom had passed, it had just gotten worse and worse, some parts from his doing, but most not.

The cruel world throwing hit after hit at an innocent child, moulding him into something more calculating and cruel. Throwing the worst at him and forcing to adapt, sometimes not in the best ways, to survive.

All of which which made him end up here, instead of with his Mom in Heaven. Something that even though it hurt him, very much so at first, he held no regret for. Even if every day he missed her. 

He’d made his choices and he would forever deal with the consequences. He’d made peace that he’d never make it to the golden gates a long time ago.

Sometimes he wondered if she would be proud of him and his choices, ones in life and in death. Would she be proud of the man he’d become? So different from her wide eyed and innocent little boy, who looked at the world with such innocent joy and optimism. Probably not, and honestly he wouldn’t blame her. When he looked in the mirror, he barely saw the person he had been before, and not just because now he had a tv for a head. 

But he hoped that even after a lot of the unsavoury things he’d done, one thing that he hoped his mom could be proud of was of him keeping her memory alive.

Cooking had been hers and now it was his. A piece of herself that she’d gifted him and something he wouldn’t let falter or fade. He would keep alive, just like his love for her. Just like his love for his siblings who he’d never had the chance to see grow up.

Even in the dark, there was some light at the end of the tunnel for him, even in Hell. Because even if he’d lost his first family, he’d gained another abate a different kind of one. Another who despite how annoying they could be, he cared for full-heartedly. That despite how often he wanted to strangle them, mostly Val, for their idiocy, he loved them, even though he would never let them know just how much.

“So what did you think?” He brought himself back to reality, letting smile fall, replaced by his usual facade, his usual grin on his screen as he rested his hands on the table, pressing the tips of his fingers, in the staple sitting position of professionalism. “Your honest rating please.”

“10/10 as always mi amour.” Val crooned, leaning back in his chair. 

Velvette nodded, not looking up from her phone which she’d grabbed. “I agree, it was good V, though maybe a go easy on the cheese. I think I’m gonna need to upsize my clothes if I eat that again.” Velvette said, her nails tapping on her phone screen as she wrote a review post for the meal's photo's on her Sinstagram. Hopefully all good like she’d said and would be good free advertisement for tomorrow’s segment.

“Well I’ll take that into account Velvette.” He chuckled.

Looks like all in all, it was a success.

Chapter Text

Brownsville, Brooklyn, New York, Earth. Year 1922

The sun had barely rose above the city, when the rays peeked through the curtains, eclipsing a bedroom on the highest floor of the apartment building in the golden rays of the rising run. 

In the room slept a little 4 year old boy, curled up tight under the covers in his bed, his face pressed into his pillow.

Then the little boy’s eyelids fluttered and opened to baby blue eyes as the boy woke up.

The boy turned over in bed, his sandy brow hair messy and flattened on the side he’d slept on, the bed slightly creaking as he did, a small yawn escaping his pink lips.

He slapped his lips together as he stared absentmindedly at the stained yellow walls of his room, his eyes still glazed with sleep, before he straightened his eyes widening. He began to smile and he sat up quickly in bed. 

Today was the day he had been waiting for, for weeks. A day he was very excited for. Because today was Mommy’s day and he had a huge surprise planned for his Mommy.

He giggled quietly, wiggling in place for a few moments in excitement before he slipped out of his bed, his bare feet touching the cool wooden floor and making his toes feel all tingly.

He tiptoed towards his bedroom door, wincing as it creaked a little when he opened it and slipped out into the hall, a large grin on his face the whole while, trying to be as quiet as he could to not wake up his Mommy and Daddy.

He snuck quietly past his parents door and he was quickly home free and sprinted the rest of the way, his bare feet padding on the wooden floor, towards the kitchen where all the magic would happen, giggling gently to himself as he did. He’d done it! He’d snuck into the kitchen without being spotted.

Now the fun could begin.

He was going to be making Mommy breakfast as a surprise!

He pulled open a cupboard and peeked inside. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to make though. What would Mummy want for breakfast? What did she usually eat? He wasn’t sure, he was usually still asleep when she ate. Hmmm…

The he got an idea. Soup! 

Soup was easy. He’d seen his Mommy make it loads of times before, so thats what he chose. It wouldn’t be too hard and Mommy would have some yummy soup to eat, made specially by her favourite little boy.

He wiggled for a bit, pleased with his idea, before he realised he wasn’t sure what to use. Mommy usually used some colourful and pretty veggies so should he used those?

He hummed and nodded to himself. Yeah, thats what he’d use. 

So he went on a search, looking in each for the colourful veggies. 

He found the green stick thing that he could snap, he wasn’t sure of its name, some Toematos, some more green veggies, a yellow thingy and some Cahrots. That should be enough, he decided and held his load in his tiny arms, holding them to his chest, as he carried them over to a free space on the floor, letting them drop. 

He smiled down at the them, then realised that he’d need something to put them in. He went and found a large metal bowl, one he’d seen Mommy use before, pulling it over to his pile of veggies before he threw them all in.

Okay good. What was next?

Then something on the counter caught his eye. A purple ball thingy. An oneeion

He knew right then he needed an oneeion. He’d seen Mommy use it before. Mommy liked them so he’d use it.

He ran on the counter and tried to reach and grab it. But he fell short. He was too small. He couldn’t reach it. He stuck out his lips in a pout and stamped his foot in frustration a few times, his small fists shaking. Once he’d calmed down, he huffed and stuck out his tongue at purple veggie. Bad oneeion! He didn’t need it anyway!

He turned away and went to walk back to his pot, but paused, peeking back at the oneeion

But Mommy might want it in her soup. 

His eyes narrowed and he steeled himself. He would get the purple veggie for Mommy!

So he looked around for an idea and spotted the chairs at the table and got an idea. Maybe he could climb on the chair. It would make him taller to reach the counter, then he could get on the counter  and he could reach the oneeion

So he ran to the chair and very slowly pushed it over to the counter, his little arms straining, but soon he’d done it. He panted and wiped his brow, before climbing up the wooden leg and onto the chair. Then he climbed onto the counter, reaching out for his prize. His fingers curled around it and he grinned. He did it!

He stood up on the counter, the oneeion in hand, and went to climb back on the chair.

But his foot slipped.

He found himself falling backwards, landing with a bang on the floor, the purple veggie rolling across the ground out of his grip. It happened so suddenly that for a moment he was left in shock where he fell, his rear burning, before a wail escaped his throat as tears pricked his eyes. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there and cried until he heard footsteps running. “Victor!” He heard his Mommy cry and turned in the direction of her voice with teary eyes. 

She stood there looking at him from the doorway, her blue eyes wide with worry, her ringlet brown hair messy and unbrushed, still dress in her light purple nightdress 

“M-Mommy!” Victor cried and ran and threw himself at her, sobbing into her leg.

She crouched and pulled him close, allowing him to hide his face in her neck. “What ever is the matter darling? Why are you doing up so early?” She whispered softly, running her fingers through his messy hair as she held him close. He nuzzled closer, feeling safe in her arms. “What happened?”

“I-I f-fell!” He hiccupped.

“You fell? You mean you tripped or..?” She trailed off. 

He shook his head and pulled away from her embrace before he pointed at the counter. “I-I f-fell.”

“The counter? What were you even doing up there sweetheart?!” Her hands curled around his shoulders and he watched his Mommy’s eyes flitter around, looking him over. “Are you alright?! Are you hurt?!”

He shook his head mutely, his sobs becoming small hiccups now. 

“Oh darling, the fall must have given you a fright huh?” She said softly, her hand reached and cupped his cheek, her thumb wiping the last of his tears away.

He nodded and she smiled and lifted him into her arms before she stood. 

“What is this?” He followed her gaze towards his pot and felt tears begin to burn again.

He’d ruined the surprise! Mommy knew and now it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore. He’d ruined it!   Now Mommy would be sad. 

“I-I wanted to make you soup for Mommy’s day. But I ruined it!” He hid his face in her neck again, feeling shameful Mommy must be so sad!

“Soup for breakfast…Oh darling thats so lovely of you.” He peeked his head out and met her eyes to see her not looking sad at all, instead she looked happy. Her blue eyes glistening and her lips smiling. “Aren’t you such a thoughtful little boy?”

His sadness was quickly gone at the praise from his Mommy. He beamed, smiling toothily. A laugh escaped her and her lips pressed against his forehead, before she pulled away with a ‘mwah’. “Thank you sweetheart. I love it.” She smiled warmly.

His smile fell a little. “But it’s not finished yet?” His head tilted in confusion.

“Well…then why don’t we finish it together hmmm?” His Mommy proposed and he felt himself smile at the idea. He would be able to cook with Mommy! He’d always wanted to cook with Mommy! He nodded quickly, wiggling in his Mommy’s arms. 

She giggled at his excitement. “Well okay then. Looks like I’ll be having a new little helper in the kitchen then.”

The morning was then spent finishing the soup he’d started. He wasn’t allow to help much, but Mommy had pulled a chair over the counter for him to stand on and watch. He listened to her every word as she talked about how to make the soup, watching her chop up the food he’d collected from the cupboards and the oneeion, though replacing the yellow thingy which was called a lemon, as it didn’t go in soup. It was a lot for his 4 year old brain and sometimes he didn’t quite catch something or understand it but Mommy never minded and only just smiled and repeated it. 

Within an hour, the kitchen was filled with the yummy smell of soup, that may his little tummy rumble. By that time, Daddy had woken up for work and joined them, giving him a big hug and praising him after Mommy had told him what he’d done. He’d beamed at the praise, feeling like he was on top of the world.

They all sat at the table together eating the soup. Like a happy family. It tasted good to, just like Mommy’s.

“Happy Mommy’s day Mommy.” He grinned towards his Mommy across the table. 

She smiled back warmly. “Thank you darling. I think this has been the best one yet, don’t you?” 

His grin widened and he nodded. “The bestest!” It was the best! And his Mommy only deserved the best.

Chapter Text

Brownsville, Brooklyn, New York, Earth. Year 1933

“Victor.” He heard a familiar voice say softly, breaking through the dreads of sleep and felt someone shake his shoulder. “Victor wake up darling.”

“Mom?” His eyes fluttered open, his brow furrowing as his eyes opened to the bright day. “Whats wrong?” His eyes fell on his Mom, slightly hovered over him, next to his bed. Her hair tied back into a bun wearing a beautiful baby blue dress. 

“Am I late for school?” He didn’t give Mom a chance to reply before his eyes widen and he quickly threw his covers off and flew out of bed. “Drat!” He swore.

“Victor-.” He ignored her. He didn’t have time, because he was late! 

“Not now Mom! I’ve got to go shower!” He sprinted to his drawers, wrenching it the top one open and started riffling through it for some clean clothes. Drat Drat Drat. He had never been late! How had he slept in this time?! Drat!

“Victor Oliver Xavier.” He turned around at his full name being said in a firm tone that broke through his worry, and saw her standing there beside his bed, her eyes shining with amusement and hiding a smile behind her hand. 

He paused. His panic changing to confusion. Why was Mom looking at him like that?

“…What?” 

Mom lowered her hand, showing her matching amused smile. “Its Saturday darling.”

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “…Oh.”

Maybe he should have listened to what Mom had tried to say the first time and not ignored her. Maybe then he wouldn’t have completely embarrassed himself.

Mom giggled before approaching him. “I’m sorry for causing you such distress darling.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I just wanted to see if you wanted to help me make your sibling’s birthday cake before they wake up.”

Birthday cake…Oh it was Susie and Ben’s Birthday!

Susan ‘Susie’, the oldest twin, who looked very much like Mom with her blue eyes and similar hair and face shape and Benjamin ‘Ben’, the younger twin, who looked almost identical to a younger him apart with his Dad’s darker brown hair and hooked nose. 

“Yes please.” He said immediately, a smile growing on his face, just like every time Mom asked him to cook with her, though making a cake didn’t count as cooking, but it he didn’t care.

Ever since the day when he was 4 years old, when he’d tried to cook for Mom, a fond memory to look back on now, though he didn’t actually remember it personally anymore but Mom recounted the memory often. Since then had become Mom’s permanent partner in the kitchen, with her teaching him everything she knew and allowing him to help when he got old enough to handle a knife without the worry of him hurting himself. 

Despite being only 15 now, he could cook a mean dish on his own without much difficulty. A great skill to have at such an age, even though most men wouldn’t think so as cooking was such a womanly art. But he didn’t care, he enjoyed it and thats all that mattered to him.

Mom smiled pleased with his answer. “Good. We have to go and get the ingredients first though. So go and get ready..not so frantically though this time. There is no rush.” 

He gave an bashful smile, thinking back on his panicked rush. “Okay Mom.” But then his brow furrowed. “But who’s watching the twins? Isn’t Dad at work?”

Mom shook her head. “No, he’s getting a few more hours of rest. Your Father managed to swindle the week off from his boss. Don’t ask me how because I couldn’t tell you.”

That was a surprise. Dad worked at the one of the factories in the city, doing what he wasn’t sure, he’d never thought to ask, and what he knew was that his boss was a real piece of work, stubborn and grumpy. He couldn’t even remember the last time Dad had been given a day off let alone a week. Strange…

“Now get a move on. We only have a few hours before the twins will be up and about.” Mom urged him on. “We may not be in a rush, but that doesn’t mean we have time for lollygagging.”

He did as he was told and quickly had a shower and got dressed and soon after the mother and son duo headed out into the early morning of the City in search of cake ingredients.

It was only 8 in the morning and yet the streets of the New York were already buzzing with people. 

He walked by Mom’s side as they navigated the streets to their usual grocery store, the cheapest one in the city.

They found the store on a street corner, the outside painted an olive green, faded and chipping with age and wear. 

The bell jingled as they opened the door and stepped inside. Due it being early in the morning, there was only the workers and a stray customer around. He followed Mom around the store, helping hold everything they found and helping her grab anything she couldn’t reach from the taller shelves, which was a very normal for thing to do since his growth spurt. He’d always been known for being tall for his age, but as soon as he turned 15, he spurted up from being shorter than Mom at 5’1 to towering over her at 5’5. In fact in a few years, Dad may even have competition as he was only 5’8.

“Hello Helena.” The attendant, an older man in his 70’s with greying hair and wrinkles, behind the counter greeted jovially, his voice gruff from years of smoking cigars, as they approached with all their items. Just the bare essentials for a Chocolate Crazy cake which was basically a cake made without the use of eggs, milk or butter which was created during the war and a favourite in their household. “And hello to you to Victor.

“Hello Gerald.” Mom greeted the man with a polite smile. 

He himself nodded his head in a firm greeting. “Hello sir.”

“So whats all this? Is there a birthday that I don’t know about?” The man made conversation as he began to tally up all their items.

“Its Ben and Susie’s 4th birthday today.” Mom smiled fondly 

Gerald smile warmly, an almost grandfatherly smile which wasn’t far off as the man had been a family friend for years. “Ahh time flies. It seems like just yesterday when you used to bring them in as just babies, in fact I even remember when you were just a baby Victor. So happy to see everyone, greeting every customer in my store with baby babble and cute smiles as you sat in your pram.” The man recollected. “You were such a sweet and bubbly baby.”

He felt his cheeks warm at the recollection of his much younger years, which darkened even further as Mom laughed. “Oh yes, he was.” She agreed. “Such a joyous and energetic little boy and even now nothing has changed.” She looked at him, her eyes shining with mischief, her smile widening, as only a Mother would when teasing their child. “Why just this morning the poor dear almost ran himself ragged thinking it was a school day when I woke him up. You’d have thought his rear had been lit on fire from how quickly he threw his covers off. It was quite an amusing sight.”

His eyes widened. “Mom.” He whined, feeling mortified at the story of this morning’s disaster being told to another. 

Gerald let out a good-natured chuckle, aged eyes glazed with amusement. “Nothing wrong with that is there? We need some young good souls to light us this harsh world.” Gerald had finished tallying up their items, starting to bag the up and then accepted Mom’s payment.  “Tell them Happy Birthday from ol’ uncle Gerry for me will you?”

“Of course Gerald. Thank you.” She smiled warmly as she grabbed bags in her arms. 

“Bye now.” Gerald waved them away as they left the store. 

They only made it a few steps away from the store when Mom curled over and began to cough, raggedly, which quickly became a fit. 

“Mom are you alright?” Worry bled into his tone as he eased the bag from her grip and reached up rubbed her back with his free hand, trying to sooth her coughing fit.

“I’m fine darling.” She wheezed, her throat sounding ragged from the coughing. “Its just this blasted cough. I can’t seem to be rid of it.”

In the last few weeks, hearing Mom cough hadn’t been an uncommon thing. She had waved it off as just a cold and that it would go away, but still it didn’t seem to fade only worsen. It was beginning to worry him. “Maybe we should call a doctor. If its getting worse we shouldn’t leave it.”  He suggested for not the first time, though each time the idea was shot down by either Mom or Dad. 

They simply just didn’t have money to waste they’d say, but was it really wasting money if the cough may be something more serious than a cold?

Mom waved her hand as usual.“Theres no need for that. Its just a cold darling. It will go away when its ready and I’ll be back to normal.” 

“But-.”

She straightened from her curled position, seemingly better now, giving him an assuring smile. “I know you are worried, but your worry is unfounded darling. I’ll be alright.”

He really didn’t want to let this go again, what if worry was as unfounded as Mom thought? What if she was really sick? Or maybe Mom was right and it was just a cold? He wasn’t sure. She looked so much more tired recently, not very obviously, but her posture was slightly more slumped than usual, she had small bags under her eyes, and her smile wasn’t always as strong. 

But he didn’t want to upset her. Not on such a special day. So he let the matter drop for now. “Okay Mom.” 

“Now come on darling.” Mom prompted him, reaching up and resting her hand on his shoulder. “The twins will be awake soon and we haven’t even started on their cake.”

They quickly made their way home, him carrying their shopping this time, stepping into their apartment and heading straight to the kitchen.

“Hey Champ. My Love.” Dad greeted them both with a smile as they entered the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hand. He looked tired from what he could see, bags under his eyes and his smile was weak. He looked like he could use a few more hours of rest.

Mom approached him and they shared a kiss, then Dad moved away and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He smiled in return. “Hi Dad. Your boss gave you the week off huh? How did you manage that?”

Dad rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Oh you know…”  Was all he said. Was he trying to hide something from him?

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. No he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to push the matter, even if he wanted too.

“Are the twins awake yet Walt?” Mom asked Dad.

Dad focused his attention on Mom and shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m sure it won’t be long. You know what they’re like Lena.” 

“Then we better get to work shouldn’t we?” Mom sent them both a smile. Dad finished his coffee and headed off for a shower, leaving the two of them to get to work. Dad wouldn’t be any help anyway as he was terrible in the kitchen.

They worked in tandem, in comfortable silence, measuring out the dry ingredients before they threw the measured flour, sugar, cocoa powder, salt, and baking soda, one by one, into a large bowl. He was left in charge of the whisking, the dry ingredients together to combine, whilst Mom began to clean the counters and wash up their used equipments as they went along.

Then they added the wet ingredients of vanilla, vinegar, oil, and water to the dry ingredients. Then he was in charge of stirring it all together, at that point, Dad rejoined them and swooped into the kitchen wearing a grin.

“Let’s have a taste Vic.” Dad grinned and reached out a finger to swipe some of the mixture out of the bowl. 

He pulled them bowl away and held it close to his chest with pout. “Nuh uh.” He shook his head. “Last time I let you do that, you kept stealing tastes until you almost ate all the mixture and left hardly any for the cake.” 

Dad looked offended, pressing a hand to his chest with a audible gasp. “No I did not. I don’t know who you are talking about but it certainly isn’t me.”

His eyes narrowed. Yes it was, he remembered it very clearly. He remembered Susie and Ben’s 4th birthday and how they’d had to make more mixture when they barely had enough to fit the bottom of the tin and that Dad had almost eaten all of it. He remembered how Mom had to calm him down when he’d gotten mad at Dad for it. He remembered it clearly. “Yes you did.” 

Dad shook his head. “No it wasn’t. Are you sure you aren’t misremembering?” Dad’s lips curled into a grin. 

“No it was you! I know it was!” He argued. Frustration began to bubble inside him. By that point he’d stopped stirring the mixture and slammed it down on the counter. His hands curled into fists.

“I don’t think so. Are you sure it wasn’t your mother?” Dad’s grin grew and so did his frustration. He knew that Dad was only teasing him and he should either just brush it off or ignore it, but even so, he couldn’t stop it. As always.

“Excuse me.” Mom’s voice echoed from where she’d began to put the remaining ingredients away into the pantry.  She entered the main kitchen. “Oh no Walt, you don’t even want to go there Love. It was definitely you.” 

Dad shook his head. “I don’t think so. Though if it wasn’t you, maybe it was Victor.” Dad’s head lazed and his eyes were on him again. His grin wide, showing teeth, looking amused at riling him up. “I think it was.” He singsonged. “Because it definitely wasn’t me.”

That did it. “It wasn’t me!” His frustration boiled over and emerged as a shout. “It was you!” His foot stomped on the ground and echoed through the kitchen. 

The kitchen was silent for a moment, the only sounded being his own heavy ragged breathing as he silently seethed, jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed into a glare at his Dad as he tried to control his breathing. Dad always knew how to push his buttons and crossed the obvious line as often as he could. He loved his Dad, he really did, but why must he always push him this limit?

“That’s enough you two.” He heard Mom say firmly. “Walt. stop it now.”

He ignored his Dad’s aghast response of “What? I was only teasing.” 

He then felt something warm softly rest on his cheek and felt the frustration started to lessen from, slowly receding from where it had overflowed. He looked down to his Mom looking up at him softly, it was her hand resting on his cheek, which he found himself press further into as his jaw unclenched and relaxed. Mom always managed to calm him down. She was the best like that. “Victor darling, why don’t you go and wake up and I’ll finish up here?” Mom proposed gently. 

Even though he wanted to finish, he knew that he needed to take a break and get away to calm down fully and seeing the twins would do it. He didn’t trust himself to speak yet and just gave a mute nod. She smiled fondly. “Go on then.”

He gave another nod and quickly left the kitchen. As he left, he could hear Mom lowly snap at Dad, but he didn’t care to listen to what was said.

He quietly snuck into the Twins shared room. It was a sparse room, much like his own with yellow stained walls, with only a few toys and plushes lying around and a single radio on the table that sat between their beds. The room was basically split, one half for each twin which held a single bed for each with each of their own toys on each side. 

In each of the beds lay Susie and Ben, dead to the world and curled up under their covers.

He found a fond smile come to his lips as he leaned against the wall watched them sleep, listening to their soft breaths and felt the last of the frustration and tension bleeding from him. 

He couldn’t believe that it was their 4th Birthday already and 4 years since they were brought into the world. For so long, he’d thought that he’d be an only child until Mom and Dad announced that he’d be getting a sibling. The real surprise though was when it turned out that he’d not be getting one but two siblings! Something neither of his parents had been prepared for until the birth, but it didn’t matter as they had took it in their stride.

He’d been elated at the news that he would be getting two siblings instead of just one. He loved his younger siblings with all his heart, ever since he’d first met them.

He decided that he should probably wake them up now, not sure how long he’d been standing there watching. The cake should almost be ready by now right?

He approached Susie’s beside first, and shook the young girls shoulder lightly. “Wakey Wakey. Its time to get up Sue.” He said softly.

He watches her eyes flutter open. “..Vicky?” His little sister’s nickname for him slips passed her lips, slightly slurred with sleep.

“Yeah Sue. Time to get up.” He chuckled softly before he moved onto Ben, lightly rousing his little brother the same way. “Wakey Wakey. Its time to get up Ben.”

Ben’s eyes flutter open, his brows furrowing as his blue eyes fall on him. A yawn passes the younger boys lips, before the other turns over, his eyes sliding closed again.

He rolls his eyes with a huff. “Ben, I know you want to sleep, but its time to get up.” A mischievous smile slides onto his lips. “…..unless you want to sleep your entire Birthday away?”

That woke him up, Ben snapped up straight in bed, eye wide. 

“Oh yeah!” Susie shrieks looking fully awake now, jumping out of bed. “It’s our Birthday Ben!” She launches herself onto Ben’s bed, grinning widely. A similar grin comes onto Ben’s face, eye shining as he nodded. 

The excitement was infectious, that he found himself grinning too. “Yes it is your Birthday. Happy Birthday. Now come on, your first present is waiting for you both in the kitchen.”

His response prompts both of the 4 year olds to jump from the bed and sprint out of the door. He chuckles, shaking his head before following them. 

Looks like his timing was perfect as the cake was sat on the counter, lathered with chocolate icing and white candles lit. 

Mom’s eyes fall on the as they all entered. “Happy Birthday my Babies.” She swept around the counter and fell to her knees just in time for Susie and Ben to jump into her arms. She presses a kiss to each of their cheeks. 

Once the hug was released, Dad came around and lifted both of them into his arms. “Happy Birthday Squirts!”

Susie spotted the cake first, mouth gaping and pointed. “Cake!” Ben’s head snapped towards it, lips mouthing the word with awe. 

“That it is.” Mom confirmed with a smile. “Are you two ready to blow your candles out?”

The Twins nodded frantically in Dad’s arms. 

Dad carried them over to the counter and he and Mom followed behind him. 

Soon their singing filled the kitchen as the ‘Happy Birthday’ song was sung, Susie impatiently wriggling in Dad’s arms, ready to blow out her candles, Ben waiting more patiently. 

As soon as the last note left their lips and with a confirmation from Mom, the Twins blew on the candles in unison. 

He and Mom clapped for the Twins, and then it came time to eat the cake for breakfast. Dad put the twins down and took the task of cutting and dividing the cake between them on separate plates. 

It was a delicious cake. The chocolate so rich and yet so sweet at the same time. He hummed in delight as he chewed. Susie showed her delight in a much more messy manner, stuffing the cake in by the mouthful, her cheeks bulging, whilst Ben ate it more delicately. 

“Slow down Sue, its not going anywhere you Pig” He snickered at his sister. He was rewarded with a light slap on the back of his head from Mom. 

“Don’t call your sister a Pig.”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry Mom.”

Chapter Text

Brownsville, Brooklyn, New York, Earth. Year 1933 - A few months later

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he stared at the black board, listening to the droning voice of his last teacher of the day, his eyelids feeling heavy. All he wanted to do was close them and sleep. In fact all he wanted to do was go home and go straight to bed. He felt so tired

Alas, he couldn’t. Because he had work after school.

He’d learned two weeks after Susie and Ben’s 4th Birthday that Dad hadn’t been been given a week off. His boss had let him go since the business had declared bankruptcy and he was in the midst of finding a new job.

It hadn’t been going well at all. So secretly he’d taken some initiative and began to search for a job of his own to help support his family. He’d snuck out of school a little bit early everyday and scour the streets for any available job for some time before returning home.

It hadn’t been easy. But eventually he’d found one a month later. A dishwasher at Arrow, a diner around near his neighbourhood.

The job was less than to be desired, but the pay was great but it was something and the hours were long but not awful 6 days a week, from 4pm till 10pm on a weekdays and 9 am till 7pm on Saturdays with Sunday off. It was a job at least, the only one he could get, but that didn’t mean he liked it, even after 2 months of working there. If anything he hated it more and more the longer he worked there. 

His boss was a sleazy and cheap asshole. His co-workers weren’t bad per say, but he didn’t necessary like them. He hated the feel of the wet food on his hands when he washed a dirty dish, even through the plastic gloves he wore. He hated the way the gloves felt on his skin and the strong smell of the dish soap.

He didn’t like his job. It was an awful job.

But it was a job he couldn’t afford to lose, even when Dad had managed to find another job. Because they needed the money.

Mom’s cough had gotten worse in weeks after the Twin’s birthday. She wouldn’t even go a day without having a coughing fit, which would leave her wheezing heavily and breathless or bringing up mucus which was then followed now by sudden dizziness that she always tried to play off as nothing and fatigue. She was quickly getting worse, butt only he seemed to accept it.

He’d desperately tried to convince Mom of attending a Doctors appointment, but she still wouldn’t have it. It was another reason why he’d gotten a job in the first place. He’d thought that if they had some extra money coming in, he could convince Mom of using it for an appointment.

But she wouldn’t budge. It was infuriating.

His mind refocused as he saw everyone around him begin to pack away their things. School was finally over. 

He followed their lead, quickly packing away his things into his worn messenger bag before leaving the classroom.

He speed-walked down the busy halls, flooded with students until he reached the main door, which he quickly slipped out of. That was when he spotted his friends waiting near the front gate.

He and his friends didn’t share his final class so usually they’d wait for him there .

Terry, a tall and lanky ginger boy with green eyes, and his best friend since he was 8, spotted him first. “Hey Vic! Me and the gang were gonna go and hang today at Alan’s today. Wanna come?” The boy wore a lopsided, but hopeful, grin.

He winced, his lips pulling into a frown. “Sorry I can’t. I’ve got work.” He winced again as he saw Terry’s face fall.

“Oh come on V, can’t you ditch for one day? We never see you outside of school anymore.” Alan, a short and stubby brown boy with brown hair,  blue eyes and wearing thick glasses, whined as he jumped down from where he’d been swinging his legs on the brick wall near the gate. “You’re always too busy.” The boy pouted, sticking out his bottom lip.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I know I know.” He said softly. “I’m sorry. But I-I can’t. Maybe next time okay?” He gave them a weak apologetic grin. Even as the words left his lips, he knew they were empty words, because even next time he would have to decline, like he did every time he was asked to hang out. When he wasn’t busy with work or school, he was spending time with his family on his only free day. He didn’t have time to hang out, even if he wanted too. He felt awful for it, but there was nothing he could do.

“I told you guys he wouldn’t come, he doesn’t care about us anymore.” Samuel, a short and skinny blonde with hazel eyes huffed rolled his eyes, before walking away.

“Hey! Thats not true!” He shouted after Samuel. 

Samuel stopped and turned around scowling. “Isn’t it? If you truly cared you’d make time for us wouldn’t you? All you ever do is let us down Vic every time you turn us down in favour of work.”

“Because I have to, you guys know that! But just because I don’t have the time at the moment, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you guys!” He argued.

“Whatever Vic. Come on guys, lets go.” Samuel walked away, Alan and Terry following behind, not even giving him a second glance.

He watched after them feeling heartbroken, a frown on his lips and longing in his eyes.

He wanted to go with them. He wanted to just ditch work and go and hang out with them, just like old times. He missed it. He missed them. Didn’t they understand that?

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t like them anymore. He didn’t have the freedom to do what he wanted anymore. He had responsibilities and his family needed the money. He had a job that he had to do. Why didn’t they understand? 

He forced himself to look away and walked in the opposite direction and headed to work, his heels dragging the entire away. 

———

He groaned as another pile of dirty dishes were wordlessly thrown into the sink in front of him by Ed, a waiter, some of the soapy water spilling over the sides. 

He glared in anger and frustration after Ed as the other quickly sprinted away, grabbing trays of plated food before leaving the kitchen and re-emerging into the dining area, before he looked back at the pile of dirty dishes floating in the sink. 

This was ridiculous. 

He could barely keep up. Every time he managed to finish a load, more was brought in to replace them. In the last 4 hours, he hadn’t stopped. He felt exhausted, his arms aching, his hands sore from constantly being submerged in warm water, even through his gloves, his eyes stinging and sore from the strong dish soap and he was hungry because he hadn’t eaten since lunch. And he had 5 hours left to go. He wanted to cry!

The diner was super busy tonight. it seemed like everyone and their mother had decided to dine at Arrow that night. It was the busiest he’d ever seen the diner. 

Arrow wasn’t built nor employed with such large numbers in mind. The diner wasn’t small but it wasn’t large either. The kitchen were tiny, barely big enough to fit one person properly let alone two. And apart from him, there were only 2 other employees on this shift, Ed, a man around 30 who was the waiter and counter worker and Malcom, an overweight and greasy 50 year old man who was the cook and the one who he shared the small kitchen space with. 

This was the worse shift he’d had in the two months of working here.

He wasn’t the only one struggling with the business tonight he could tell. Every time he saw Ed, he looked like he was going to keel over with exhaustion, his face red and sweat clinging to his brow as he manned the dining area alone. He could hear Malcom’s constant swears from the other side of the small kitchen at the cooking station as he juggled cooking every customers meal and getting them out in a somewhat timely manner.

And there were 5 hours to go. He wasn’t sure any of them were going to last that long. Each of them were struggling and stressed, there was no way that this was only a three person job. But they had no choice but to make do because the boss was a cheap asshole.

All he wanted to do was smash all the dishes, scream a swear in the Boss’ face and walk out. But he didn’t have that luxury. This was the only job he had and he needed it. So he would just have to suck it up.

He gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the dish in his hand and took a deep breath before he forced himself to get back to work, but was quickly distracted by a loud yell. “Fuck! Not again!” He heard Malcom swear again and looked over to see the man holding a pan of charred and ruined eggs. Not again, he winced, that was the 5th time in the last 4 hours. 

He could see the man was seething, his swollen cheeks turning a deep red. 

Clang!

His eyes widened as he saw the pan be thrown to the ground, the charred eggs splattering on the ground.

Malcom was heaving heavy breaths, stood there with his held eyes tightly closed and hands curled into shaking fists. He didn’t like Malcom, but he couldn’t help but feel concern for the man. He looked at his breaking point. 

“Mal-.”

Malcom’s eyes snap open. “Thats it. I’m done. Fuck this job! I quit!” He then began to stomp away towards the emergency exit. 

Malcom was going to leave..?! His mind caught up and his eyes widened. No! No he couldn’t! What were he and Ed supposed to do without him?!

“No no Malcom! Wait!” He reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, trying to stop the man from leaving just as he reached the door.

Malcom whirled around and soon he found himself being roughly thrown to the ground, his elbow hitting the tile floor and sending a shooting pain up his arm. 

Slam!

The emergency door was slammed shut, cold air whooshing towards his face from the force.

He slowly stood from he’d fallen, staring at the door, ignoring the pain in his elbow. Malcom was gone. 

Now they were in trouble.

A kitchen without a cook and hungry customers waiting for their food. 

What were they going to do?!

He looked at the stacks of dirty dishes and then back towards the cooking station and felt angry tears fill his eyes. He was tired, he was hungry and now Malcom had quit and now it was just him and Ed managing an entire busy diner in their own.

His frustration bubbled over, the stress of the day catching up with him. He covered his mouth and let out a muffled scream and sent kick after kick at the exit door, hardly even feeling the throbbing pain in his foot from the hard kicks. 

He stopped screaming and pressed his palms into his eyes as he tightly closed them, chest heaving. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down. He wanted to scream again, loudly until his voice was ragged. He wanted to fall to the ground and just sob. 

At that moment, he heard the kitchen door open and peeked up from his hands to see Ed standing there with a new stack of dirty dishes and more orders. 

“Where’s Malcolm?!” Ed’s voice hitched as he looked at the empty kitchen, eyes wide. 

“H-He left. He said he quit and walked out!” 

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Ed slammed the stack of dirty dishes down on the counter and began to ran his fingers through his greasy hair as he began to pace, obviously trying to calm his growing panic. “What are we going to do Kid?! We have hungry customers waiting!”

“I don’t know! Why are you asking me!” He screamed at his co-worker. He didn’t even care that the whole diner could have heard him. Ed was the adult here not him!

They fell into silence, with Ed pacing frantically muttering and him stood there on the edge of tears. 

Then Ed stopped. “You! Vic, you’ll have to take over Kid.” Ed then said suddenly.

It took a minute for Ed’s words to register, but when they did, he was still sure he hadn’t heard them correctly. 

“Me!? Ed, you can’t be serious.” He shrieked. “I can’t! I have to wash the dishes, just look at them!” He gestured frantically to the overwhelming stacks.” I can’t cook and clean at the same time!”

“Well I can’t do it!” Ed argued. “I have to be out front and I can’t cook! But I know you can! You’ve mentioned it before.”

He can’t be serious? “Ed I can’t. Thats too much work for just one person! I was hardly keeping up with just the dishes and yes I can cook, but not for so many people at once!” He shot back. 

Cooking with Mom was one thing. But cooking for several customers and cooking meals that he never had before! That was too much!

Ed seemed to sympathise but wasn’t swayed. “I know, but its not like you have a choice! If we mess this up, we’ll both be out of a job I’m sure, and I know you need this job Kid.”

He swallowed back a sob. He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted to go home. He was just a kid, only 15. He shouldn’t have to do this. He should be at home like most kids his age.

But he nodded anyway because Ed was right, he needed this job.

“O-Okay.” He reluctantly agreed. 

Ed gave a sharp nod and a weak smile. “G-Great. Good luck Kid, I know you can do this.” He handed over the new orders before he quickly left, leaving him all alone in the kitchen. 

He looked from the sink full of dirty dishes and the others stacks of them on the counter, then he looked to the cooking station where food was still cooking away.

It was all too much, but he didn’t have a choice.

“O-Okay.” He whimpered. “Okay Victor you can do this.” He began to psych himself up, pressing his face into his hands. “Its just this one shift and 5 hours to go. You can do this. You’re an Xavier, you can do this. You can do this. ”

He couldn’t do this, but he would have too. For the money. For his family. For Mom.

He lowered his hands and sprinted towards the kitchen, deciding to leave the dishes for now.

You can do this Victor, you can do this, ran through his mind the whole time, he finished off the food that Malcom had abandoned and remaking the eggs he had ruined, before quickly plating  them up and ringing the bell and sliding it through the slot. “Order up! Orders 34 and 23!”

He turned away and grabbed three more orders from the stack, 2 cheese burger and fries and  cheese and bacon burger and fries. Right.

You can do this Victor. You can do this.

He grabbed some frozen patties and threw them on the grill.

He’d never actually done this before, but it didn’t matter. He flipped the patties when they looked cooked on one side, before  turning to the fryer and working on the fries. 

He was working on autopilot and pure adrenaline as he worked through the orders, holding back tears as more stacks of dirty plates and orders came in. Eventually he was forced to abandon the food for a bit to make a dent in the growing dirty dishes as they were running out of plates, and then quickly washing his hands and running back to the cooking station to finish of orders and start others. 

The final hours began stretched and when they were done and the last customer was out the door at 10:01, closing time, he felt like he was close to death, on the edge of collapse. He fell to his knees on the tile ground, arms feeling like lead and legs feeling like weights, his muscles burning and aching, his head pounding, he wanted to cry but didn’t even have enough energy to even cry. He just kneeled there. He was exhausted.

He didn’t move until Ed came to find him and helped him out into the dining area, where Dad was waiting to pick him up, who’d finished work himself.

He fell against Dad’s chest, who scooped him up until his burly arms and carried him all the way home without a complaint. 

He fell asleep a few metres before they reached their apartment building, snuggled in Dad’s arms.

—————

The next day Mom and Dad allowed him to take a day off school and rest. He and Mom argued yet again about his job, telling him to just quit, but he refused. Not until she agreed to see a Doctor. She refused.

They were left at a stalemate again. Mom was a lovely woman, but was very stubborn one he’ll tell you. All he wanted was for her to be healthy, was that a crime?

When he went to work that night, something he refused to miss, he was met with the Boss, who praised his work last night after hearing about it from Ed. 

He was offered a promotion as a permanent cook, for slightly more pay.

He wanted to throw the offer back at the Boss’ face, to scream at him and calling him every insult under the sun. To quit right then and there just like Malcom had. 

But he didn’t. He swallowed back everything and took the job without a complaint.

For his family. For Mom. For the money.

Besides he liked cooking. Doing it everyday for a job wouldn’t be so bad without the added stress, would it?

At least what he could take away from this would be that he wouldn’t be forced to wash dirty dishes anymore.

If he had his way, he wouldn’t wash a dish again.

Chapter Text

Brownsville, Brooklyn, New York, Earth. Year 1933 - A month later

Mom got worse. Much worse.

It was inevitable in his opinion. He saw this coming a mile off, but now it had actually happened, he couldn’t help but still feel taken off guard by it.

It all happened so quickly, in the space of a month, Mom went from having a cough and being dizzy sometimes to being completely bed-ridden and weak, with barely enough strength to lift a single spoon. 

Severe Pneumonia, the doctor said after Dad had finally seen sense after Mom collapsed one day and finally called for a home appointment.

If they had gotten her help sooner, she could have recovered easily with some medicine. But they hadn’t and she had only worsen as the infection wrecked her immune system. She was now dying.

He couldn’t help but feel angry. If she hadn’t refused help for so long, she could have been okay. She could have recovered. 

Now look what had happened. 

He felt bad for feeling angry, but what else could he feel when the only one to blame for Mom’s sickness was herself. He’d been telling her for so long and all she had done was brush him off. Same with Dad.

Why hadn’t anyone listened to him?

Still this was reality now and there was no time for his anger. Because Mom dying and she wasn’t going to get better, not even with the medication that they had to fork out so many of their savings and his pay checks to pay for.

He didn’t want to spend what might be her last, days? weeks?, angry at her. Because at the end of the day, he loved his Mom and that trumped anything else he felt. He wasn’t just angry at her though, he was mostly angry at the world. 

Why was the happening to his Mom? Why her? She was still so young, only 31, being around his age when she had him. It hurt to see her now, so aged and old for her age, her hair greasy and limp, her skin pale and clammy, her eyes having lost some of that sparkle and energy that she used to have. 

He’d spent many night in his room, screaming into, punching his pillow, and crying in anger and grief at the fact. He was only 15 and yet he was so close to losing her already. 

He didn’t want to lose her. How were they going to cope without her? How was he supposed to cope?

Mom had firmly refused a hospital stay, saying that if she was to die that she wouldn’t want to in a sterile white room, she’d rather die in her own home, in her own bed. So that's where she stayed, laying in her own bed, to weak to get out of it. That also meant that she needed all around care and someone at home at all times to take care of her needs as well as some one to watch the Twins.

He’d dropped out of school a week into Mom’s sickness, not at choice of his own but one of Dad's, though he hadn’t argued since Dad worked during the day, he was needed to look after Mom whilst Dad worked and they’d switch when he himself was at work in the evenings.

Today, like every other day like that, he was at home with Twins and Mom. He was currently preparing lunch, a vegetable soup, something light on Mom’s stomach but filling and warm.

He’d just began cutting up the carrots when Susie and Ben ran into the kitchen from their room.

“Vicky what are you doing?” Susie asked curiously, not tall enough to see atop the counter.

“I’m making vegetable soup for lunch.” He answered, putting down his knife and looking towards them. “Wanna help?” He offered. 

Susie and Ben lit up, nodding excitedly. 

A warm smile slipped onto his lips. it was nice that even in such a time like this that his siblings could still be so happy. Being so young, they didn’t actually seem to understand the weight of what was happening with Mom, not that they had properly broached that subject with them just yet. They had tried, but they didn’t seem to grasp the fact the concept of Mom was dying. It had been a hard conversation for all of them, so they had dropped the subject and left it for another day. Though that day was growing closer and closer. 

He shook himself out of his dark thoughts of the future and focused on his siblings.

“Okay then.” 

He moved to grab two stools for the Twins to reach counter on either side of him and passed each of them a small chopping board and two small knives. 

This wasn’t the first time the twins had helped him cook. In fact every time since Mom got sick, they had wanted to help so he trusted them not to cut themselves.

“Vicky, can we do Cooking Show?” Susie asked with a beam, to which Ben’s eyes widened and he began to plead with his eyes, nodding in agreement. 

That was something else that had started since Mom got sick. Cooking Show.

In the beginning before he’d dropped out of school, Susie and Ben would stay with the neighbours, an old couple called Mr and Mrs Turry, during the day whilst Dad focused on Mom. During their daytime stays over there, they had become enamoured with the Radio more specifically The Mystery Chef Cooking Show which Mr Turry liked to listen to daily. So enamoured in fact that they wanted to make their own show, so Cooking Show was born. 

Susie and Ben didn’t stay with Mr and Mrs Turry anymore though since the couple had moved out of the building.

Their cooking show, that was named by the Twins, Vicky’s Cooking Show was hosted by himself, ‘Chef Vicky’,which they had dubbed him as, as the main chef, host and commentator with his assistant chefs, ‘Mini Chef’s’ Susie and Ben, where they would commentate their cooking to an imaginary audience as they cooked. 

The Twins loved it and he never refused if it made them smile, even if it made the time it took to cook much longer. They definitely needed it in this trying time and it also provided a little distraction for himself.

“Alright lets do cooking show.” He relented with a chuckle.

He cleared his throat. “Salutations Listeners!-” He greeted the imaginary audience in a transatlantic accent he’d heard most Radio broadcasters speak with. “-And welcome back to Vicky’s Cooking Show with me, Chef Victor Xavier and my assistant Mini Chef’s Susie and Benjamin Xavier! Today we are making vegetable soup, our Mom’s signature recipe! A simple but tasteful meal that will fill up any hungry tummy-.” He reached and quickly tickled Ben’s tummy causing a small quiet giggle to pass his little brother’s lips. “-and very easy to make!” He grinned. 

“Now, for a vegetable soup you will need your ingredients!” He quickly, but clearly, listed out the ingredients and the amount that was needed for each. Then he moved onto the instructions. “First chop the vegetables up in pieces, not too big but also not too small otherwise they will burn easily. My assistant chefs here will assist me in chopping and dicing our vegetables.”

He chopped each of the vegetables in half before passing the halves to Susie and Ben to cut smaller. Though he trusted them to cut, he didn’t trust them to dice the larger vegetables fully in the safest way, so all he allowed them to do was the halves into larger messy chunks and then he would cut them up smaller. They enjoyed it anyway, so it didn’t matter too much.

He began to dice the vegetable with quick precision, his knife skills had improved through the years especially with his further kitchen experience at Arrow, commentary passing his lips throughout the process as if he were on an actual cooking show. Every so often he’d see either Susie or Ben sneak a little bit of carrot or celery from the piles, but didn’t say a word. He should be happy that they were willing choosing to eat their vegetables. They were never as fussy as other kids their age, but they still had their moments.

“Now our vegetables are cut-.” He continued the instructions “-we need to melt the butter. Grab the largest pot you can find and place it over a medium heat and occasional stir until melt.” He did as he described until the butter was fully melted. “Now add your diced vegetables to the pot, cook the onion, carrots and celery until the onion is translucent.” He did so.

“Now stir in the tomatoes with their juice.” He grabbed the can and began to slowly pour in the tomatoes whilst still mixing with his other hand. He put down the can once it was empty. “Then add the salt, pepper, soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce and paprika.” He sprinkled the right measurements of the seasonings and sauces, still mixing. “Then the beef broth.”  He tips it in.

“Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer 30 minutes, until vegetables are tender and flavours are well blended.”

He did so, and 30 minutes later, the soup is done, a delicious aroma filling the room. “And there you have it!” He inflects his voice for the invisible listeners. “One vegetable soup, made completely from scratch. Thank you everyone for listening to this episode of ‘Vicky’s Cooking Show’ with me, Chef Vicky and assistant chef’s Susie and Ben. Join us next time for another sensational recipe!” He ends the imaginary broadcast.

“You’re really good at cooking show Vicky.” Susie complimented with a grin, Ben quickly nodding in agreement.

He smiled. “Thanks guys.” He reached and playfully ruffled their hair, his smile widening at Susie’s squeal, or Ben’s breathy laugh. “Now go and grab some bowls for me, four will do.”

He watched the twins carefully climb down from their stools, keeping an eye to make sure neither fell, and ran for the bowl cupboard. Once they were safely down, he turned away and searched for ladle for the soup.

“Here you go Vicky.” The Twins appear and hold up the four bowls to him, the Twins carrying two each. 

“Thank you.”  He took the bowls, and laid them out in a line on the counter. He grabbed the ladle, dipping it three times in the pot and scooping out some soup and tipping it into each bowl, leaving the remaining bowl empty.

He felt a tugging on his trousers and turned to see Ben staring at him with wide worried eyes. “What’s up Ben?”

Ben answers by pointing at him and then the empty bowl.

“I’m going to go and feed Mom first Ben.” He explained with a fond smile at Ben’s silent care. “I’ll get my fill of the soup later okay?”

Ben nodded in understanding, looking pleased at his answer. 

His smile widened. “Okay. Come on, it’s time to eat.” He grabbed two spoons from the cutlery drawer, and then Susie and Ben’s bowls, bringing them to the table and setting them down in front of their usual seats. Susie and Ben climbed onto their chairs, grabbing their spoons.

He walked back to the counter, grabbing a glass and filling it up with water and then grabbing another spoon and Mom’s bowl. “I’m going to feed Mom now okay? Remember to wait a little while for the soup to cool and be careful not to burn yourself.” He reminded the Twins, as he walked by and headed to Mom and Dad’s room, water, soup and spoon in hand.

He reached the door and quietly opened it to Mom slumbering in bed, her breathing raspy and echoing the room. He stood in the doorway for little while just staring in almost disbelief, he did that a lot lately, as he looked at his sick Mom. It still didn’t seem real. It didn’t see real that Mom was so sick and that she wouldn’t get better. That she was slowly dying.

“Knock knock.” He vocalised, his hands full so he couldn’t actually knock.

At his voice, his Mom’s eyes fluttered open, she had always been a light sleeper, and settled on him.

He smiled softly at her as he stepped inside. “Hi Mom.”

“V-Victor.” Mom smiled weakly as she greeted him.

He entered the room, instantly feeling the rooms heaviness and smelling the lingering smell of sickness, which he ignored, even as it made his stomach churn, and sat down on the stool next to her bed.

As soon as he settled, Mom's face twisted as a ragged cough escaped her and filled the room. He hid his wince at how horrible it sounded, and quickly placed the bowl and spoon on the chest of drawers and surged forwards to help her sit up and make it easier for her to breath and sat rubbing her back as she continued to cough. 

“Easy Mom.” He gently urged her. 

The coughing wracked her whole weak and sick body, like she was coughing up a lung, turning into a fit. After a particularly harsh and painful cough, she spat blood into her palm, droplets of it dripped down past her lips and down her chin. It wasn’t the first time and had become the norm now, but it still made his heart drop when it happened. He swallowed and shakily reached for a hanky that sat on the beside table, which had small blood strains dotted on it from the previous times, and moved to wipe away the blood from her chin and hand, then passing the hanky to her just in time for her to spit more blood into it from another bad cough. He returned to rubbing her back, the only support he could give, averting his eyes from the growing fresh blood on the once white hanky.

It took 5 minutes for her fit to calm, leaving her to shakily breath, wincing with each breath. He grimaced with sympathy for her and grabbed the glass of water. “Here Mom, this will ease your throat and get rid of the metallic taste.”

With a small bob of Mom’s head as permission, he lifted the glass to her mouth, tipping it slightly, and let the cool liquid pass her lips. 

She drank a quarter of the glass before she was done and he eased it away. “Better?”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Yes. Thank you darling.” Her voice sounded wrecked from the coughing, but it would get better.

He nodded and placed the glass back down. “Now, are you feeling up to having some lunch? It’s vegetable soup, your favourite?” He asked, gesturing to the bowl on the beside table, it wouldn’t be extremely warm anymore, but it would still be okay to eat.

“I think I could handle a little.” She agreed. 

He smiled. “Good.” He picked up the bowl, resting it in his lap, and then grabbed the spoon. He scooped some soup into the spoon and raised it to Mom. 

She slowly took it in, swallowing it. This continued until the bowl was half full, when Mom gave him a gesture to stop as she was full, her eyes already fluttering with the desire to return to sleep with her belly now full of warm soup.

“Where are the Twins?” She asked curiously.

“They are eating their soup in the kitchen.”

“Have you been cooking show with them again?” She asked, a weak smile curled onto her lips, amusement swirling in her eyes at the thought. She had witnessed it once, when she wasn’t completely bedridden and had been smiling and giggling fondly the entire time.

He gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, they love it. Can’t seem to get enough of it.”

She gave a breathy laugh. “You are so good with them darling. They couldn’t ask for a better big brother.” Mom complimented softly, before a yawn passed her lips.

“Thank you Mom.” He noticed her increasing tiredness. It wouldn’t be long until sleep took her again. He moved to stand.

“I want to thank you to you for caring for me this pat month.” He stopped at her words. “I know it hasn’t been easy.” He looked at her, seeing her lips curl into a frown, her eyes swirling with guilt. Guilty for putting him through this. 

He smiled gently. “You don’t have to thank me Mom, I do it because I love you and you’re my Mom, not because I want praise.” He pressed his lips against her forehead in a kiss. “Now, let’s lay you back down so you can get some sleep. I can see you’re exhausted.” 

“Okay.” She relented without a fight, allowing him to help her lay down. He got her comfy, grabbed the half-full bowl, and went to leave the room, but not before he heard: “I love you darling.” It was slightly slurred as she was already lulling to sleep.

He chuckled, looking back at her. “Love you too Mom.” He replied, watching her eyes slipped closed, before he left.

He came back to the kitchen to see the table empty of the Twin’s, two empty bowls remaining. Placing Mom’s half-full bowl on the kitchen counter, he went in search of them. He found them sat on the floor playing a game with their toys in the sitting room.

“Do you two enjoy your lunch?” They turned towards him in unison, smiling.

“Uh huh.” Susie replied, Ben nodded. 

“Good, what are you playing?” He crouched down next to them, looking at the assortment of toys, trying to figure out their game. 

He then felt a jab on his arm and turned to see Ben.

“What’s up Ben?” He asked curiously. 

Ben gave an unimpressed look, his lips pressed together. He pointed towards the kitchen.

It was the he remembered that he hadn’t eaten yet. “Oh, my lunch.”

Ben gave a sharp nod at his deduction and pointed again towards the kitchen.

He chuckled at Ben’s insistence. “Okay okay, I’ll go and eat. Thanks for the reminder.” He ruffled Ben’s hair affectionately before he left to do as he was told. 

He quickly served and ate his fill of the remaining soup, which was lukewarm but still tasted good, before he returned to the sitting room to play with the Twin’s until he was due to leave for his shift.

When the time came around, Dad still wasn’t home. He looked at the clock worriedly as he waited. He was going to be late if Dad didn’t hurry up!

He could just head out and leave the Twin’s with Mom for a little while until Dad came home, but he felt hesitant to do so. What if Dad was later than he thought? What if something happens to Mom after he leaves? He can’t chance it and decide to wait, even if it makes him late for his shift.

So he waited, his worry turning to annoyance the longer he waited.

10 minutes later, the lock of the door jingled and the door swung open to reveal Dad. 

“I’m sorry I’m late Vic!” Dad quickly apologised. "The factory had a late shipment come in and I had to stay back to put it away.”

He surged to his feet and began grabbing his things. “It’s fine Dad, but I’ve got to go!” He quickly slipped on his shoes, before he is out the door, regrettably forgoing his promised goodbye to Mom otherwise he would be extremely late, and ran down the hall. “Bye!” He called back.

The journey to work is rushed and hurried. He got to work to see the new hired dish washer manning the kitchen, with a panicked look on his face that reminded him of the time that he had been in that exact situation. The dishwater, 13 year old Paul, gave a huge sigh of relief as his eyes fell on him entering the kitchen. He quickly released the poor boy from his temporary station and took over, getting to work.

———

He came home later that night, feeling exhausted for the shift as always, and ready to go to bed. 

He goes to unlock the door, but find it is already unlocked. 

A surge of worry forms within him, and he pushed open the door, eyes searching frantically for everyone, until his eyes fell on Dad sat on the couch, an empty look on his face, staring into his lap blankly.

The worry grows. “Dad?” He slowly crept closer. “Dad, are you okay? Where are the Twins?”

Dad slowly looked up, his eyes meeting his. They were red, his cheeks were stained with tears. His heart dropped.

“V-Vic” Dad’s voice is shaky. “C-Come sit with me son.”

He does, making his way over and slowly lowered himself into the seat next to him, a frown on his lips. “D-Dad, what’s wrong? Why are you upset? Where are the Twins?"

“They are asleep in their room.” Dad answered, before he took a shaky breath. “V-Victor, your M-Mom. S-She…” Dad trailed off, a sob escaping him, tears starting to stream down his face. “-she’s p-passed away earlier this evening.”

No.

He stared at Dad mouth agape in disbelief, eyes wide. “W-What?” This has to be a joke? This must a joke right? She can’t be. S-She can’t be!"

“N-No, s-she..she can’t be.” He continued, his voice coming out shaky as tears fill up in his eyes, blurring his vision. “W-When I gave her her lunch, s-she was f-fine, just a little tired.” He felt himself begin to tremble. “S-She can’t be d-dead."

“V-Vic-” Dad tried to speak, but he feels a surge of anger, cutting him off. 

“N-No.” He snapped, glaring through his tears at Dad. “S-She’s not g-gone. You’re lying. She’s not d-dead. I-It’s not true.”

“Victor.” Dad said his name firmly, making him flinch and quickly snapping out of his anger, before it lowers back into something softer. “S-She’s gone son. I’m not lying. I-I’m sorry.”

A ragged sob escaped him, as it sets in that this is very real. He shook his head. “N-No. N-No n-no. n-no.” He sobbed desperately, his whole world being ripped out from beneath him. Mom was dead, and he didn’t get to say goodbye.

He felt arms wrap around him and pull him close. He buried his face into Dad’s chest as he cried.

His cries are the only sound in the apartment, other than the shaky breaths of a father, who is trying is best to not break down alongside his son, and doesn’t succeed. 

He felt wet droplets fall on his head signalling he isn’t the only one crying, it made him wrap his arms around Dad, holding him tightly, holding the only parent he had left, because the other one was gone.

Chapter Text

Brownsville, Brooklyn, New York, Earth. Year 1933 Pt3 - A few weeks later

Black. A dark colour that had existed since the dawn of time. A colour that despite it’s usual connotations, didn’t always represent bad things.  A colour in this case, he had quickly grown to hate. 

Since Mom passed away, he had been surrounded by it. The dark shadows that had formed and lingered in every corner of their home which had once been so bright and filled with life. The darkness of Mom and Dad’s once shared room, it’s light not having been switched since Mom’s passing as Dad couldn’t bare to sleep in there alone. The blackened bruises under Dad’s eyes from where he hadn’t slept properly in weeks and spent every night laying on the couch and staring up at the sitting room ceiling, talking quietly under his breath to Mom and then crying until he passed out. The black second-hand suits and ties that he and Ben had been fitted for the funeral and Susie’s black funeral dress. And now, the multiple others black outfits which housed multiples sets of sympathetic and pitying eyes, which they passed by as they walked down the church aisle following after the wooden casket that contained Mom, who wore the only colour at the event, having been dressed in a simple but beautiful lilac dress, which he’d picked out in Dad’s pick out from Mom’s wardrobe since he couldn’t bare to look.

His grip tightened on Ben’s hand, who he was leading down the aisle, Susie being led in front of them by Dad. He stared straight ahead, ignoring the eyes he felt on him from the crowd, including eyes of those who didn’t deserve to even be there. Mom’s side of the family, her Mother, her Father, her two sisters, her older brother, her aunt and her three cousins. Family who he hadn’t seen his whole life until today, since they had scorned and abandoned her after learning she had been pregnant with him so young and out of wedlock. They had reached out a week after Mom’s passing, after hearing about her death from someone they knew, and asked when her funeral was and if they could attend. He had been furious when Dad had told him about them potentially attending, he had yelled at him, telling him that they had no right to come after abandoning her for 15 years and that they should be barred from attending, with Dad, despite looking just as frustrated as him about it, told him that they couldn’t stop them from attending their own daughters funeral. After going around in circles a few times, he had reluctantly agreed, but told him that he would not be speaking a word to any of them, and if they ruined Mom’s day that there would be Hell to pay.

Once the casket reached the end of the aisle, it was lowered and rested on a stand. He and his family split off from it, takin their seats in the pews on the right side of it, with him sitting closest to it, with Dad on the far side and Ben and Susie sat in between them.

The Vicar stepped forward. An older, genuine and kind man from what he’d seen from speaking with him, with Dad, whilst making the funeral arrangements.

“We are gathered here today to say goodbye to a kind and selfless woman, who left this realm all too early. Helena Beatrice Xavier.” The Vicar smiles sadly.

His eyes slid closed as he heard the words, his lips pressed together firmly in a grimace, already feeling a familiar build up in his eyes.

He had cried so much over the last few weeks, in secret of course to not further upset is siblings, that he thought he’d be out of tears by now. But it seemed that he wasn’t.

But he couldn’t let himself breakdown, not in front of the Twins who needed one person to be strong amongst them. Especially when he could already hear Dad begins to cry to his right, and Ben curl into his side, his silent tears wetting his suit.

The service was a beautiful one. With Mom’s favourite hymns sung and her favourite song; ‘I'm Always Chasing Rainbows’ played on the church’s organ, the words either mouthed or sung softly by those who knew them. There wasn’t a dry eye in the church, even he had let a few tears escape.

Then came the burial, at this point, rain had began pouring from the skies as if it was mourning Mom’s loss as well. Rain droplets pitter pattered atop the wooden casket and the black umbrellas that covered many of the mourners gathered. 

He held both of the Twins hands, the rain drenching them as they had no umbrella, watching as Dad approach the lowered casket first, a single white rose in hand. He couldn’t see Dad’s face, but he could see his shaking shoulders and hear the vocal sobs he let out, as he dropped the rose in. “G-Goodbye my love. I-I hope we meet again in the afterlife.” Dad’s words were shaky and barely intelligible. Dad stepped away and moved back towards them. Then it was Ben and Susie’s turn. He let go of their hands and gently urged them forwarded watched proudly as they took each others hands and bravely walked.

It was hard to see from this angle, but he could see Ben then make a small heart gesture with his fingers towards the casket, resting the heart gesture over his own heart, something he liked to do with all of them when he wanted to communicate that he loved them, in his own silent way.

“Bye Mommy. We love you.” Susie then said in her soft innocent voice, speaking aloud for them both. The innocent of her voice reminded him that she and Ben were only 4 years old and had already lost their Mom. When they grew older, their memories of her would fade and they would likely barely even remember her truly. It was a sad reality, but he would do his best to lessen the damage and keep Mom’s memory alive. They dropped their own roses in before they walked back together to him and Dad. 

Then it was his turn. He swallowed, his grip tightening on his rose, his shoes sinking into waterlogged grass as he approached the casket, his eyes running across the shiny engraved plaque screwed to it’s top that read; Helena Beatrice Xavier. 1902 - 1933.

He dropped his rose and watched it drifted down and land just shy of the plaque, a white petal blowing itself free on contact. 

“I-I’ll take care of them Mom.” He spoke his vow with a lump in his throat, emotion clogging it. “I-I love you. G-Goodbye.” He stared at the casket a little longer, imagining her body laid in there, looking peaceful like she was sleeping, her face resting and her eyes closed, before he forced the image out of his mind and walked away back to Dad and the Twins. 

Now was the time for others to say their goodbyes if they wished, and surprise surprise, Mom’s ‘family’ came forward. He didn’t know their appearances as he had never met them or seen pictures, but it wasn’t hard to see Mom’s features in theirs which made it obvious. He turned away, not even able to stomach watching those monsters say their first words to Mom in 15 years, all too late for Mom to even hear them. If he did watch, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from exploding on them. 

Soon, the funeral was over, and the wake began. It was held in a hall that was owned by an old friend of Mom’s, who offered to have the wake take place there after hearing off her death, since their apartment was too small to host so many.

People milled around, paper plates of cheap food sat on a buffet table for people to take and eat what they wanted. It wasn’t a glamorous wake since they already spent most of their savings on the funeral, but it didn’t need to be.

He sat with his siblings either side of him on plastic chairs, who had a small plate of food of their own placed in front of them. Dad sat opposite them, looking completely drained and depressed.

They had spent most of the wake sat there, after speaking to a few people that they and Mom knew who had attended, and thanking others for their condolences.

He nibbled on a dry cracker, not feeling like eating at all, but he had to set a good example for the Twins.

He heard footsteps approach, and then a voice he didn’t recognise speak. “Walter was it?” As he turned, he saw them, Mom’s parents, addressing Dad in a curt tone.

He felt anger begin to bubble. How dare they think they could speak to them.

“That’s right.” Dad replies in a quiet and tight, but polite voice, as he stands, holding out a hand to shake. “Hello Mr and Mrs Carter. It’s been… a long time.”

Mr Carter doesn’t move to take the hand, not even saying a word, Mrs Carter just gave a sharp nod, her thin painted lips pressed into a thin line. “Indeed it has. We wish to give you our deepest sympathies. We were deeply saddened to hear of Helena’s death.”

“Thank you.” Dad nodded in acknowledgement at their words, but obviously isn’t moved at all. It’s all too clear to hear how fake and empty her words were. She didn’t care one bit.

Mrs Carter hummed, before her eyes fall onto the three of them. “Oh!” Her eyes widen slightly in surprise before the look returned to her earlier expression. “Aren’t you going to introduce us Walter?”

Dad does, though reluctantly. “Mr and Mrs Carter, this is Victor, me and Elena’s oldest son, and these are Susie and Ben, our twin youngest. Kids, this is Mr and Mrs Carter, your Mom’s parents.” 

Mrs Carter smiled an obviously fake smile in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Victor, a pity we didn’t have it before now.”

‘You would have if you hadn’t abandoned Mom’, he thought with anger. He doesn’t say anything, just nodding, knowing that if he did, he wouldn’t say anything pleasant.

“And hello the the two of you.” Mrs Carter’s expression changes when she looks at the Twins, an expression he doesn’t like at all, the way her eyes softened and her voice changed to tone that was so sickly sweet that it made him feel ill. "Why aren’t you both just the most darling things? Oh, you both look so much like your mother. Don’t they darling?” Mrs Carter nudged Mr Carter, who just gives a silent nod. He must be the silent type. 

He doesn’t bother to hid the scowl that curled onto his lips at seeing how they interacted with his siblings, like they had any right to talk to them. Especially as the Twins curled into him wary of the old couple. Anger bubbled rising higher and higher. He couldn’t bare to listen or even looked at them any longer.

“I think you have overstayed your welcome Mr and Mrs Carter.” He spoke without thinking, but doesn’t regret his words.

Mr and Mrs Carter look at him aghast. “Excuse me?” Mrs Carter then exclaimed shrilly. 

“You heard me.” He stood, pressing his palms to the wobbly table, trying to hold himself back from grabbing the pearl necklace from around her thin neck and choking her with it. He glared at the two, his voice is biting as he continued to speak, blurting out every thought. “We have graciously allowed you to play the part of grieving parents in the eye of your peers by allowing you to attend Mom’s funeral, but your charade has gone on long enough. You don’t deserve to even be here, grieving and talking about our Mom like you even cared about her, when you abandoned and disowned her years ago. It is in your best interest you leave now otherwise I will not hold back in letting everyone here know the type of people you truly are.”

Mr and Mrs Carter are baffled, Mrs Carter gaping, and Mr Carter looking with eyes wide with disbelief, which quickly turns to anger.

“The audacity! How dare you you retched little-!” Mr Carter spoke his first words of the day, spitting them with a low hiss as he begins to stomp closer.

Mr Carter is stopped by Mrs Carter though, as she holds him back, her sharp manicured red nails digging into the shoulder of his striped black and grey suit that probably costed more than their flat. 

She didn’t look towards her husband whilst doing so, her sharp eyes are on him in a seething glare. “Come darling. Let’s not lower ourselves to their level-.” She looked down her nose with disgust.”- and just leave.” She took a step back, pulling Mr Carter with her, though not taking her eyes off him the whole while. The look in her eyes was seething, with a clear message, that he was going to regret this. Before they both turned and fully left. 

He glared after them chest heaving until the door to the halls swung shut, when he returned to sitting. He focused on Ben and Susie, who still looked wary. He took a breath and  feeling his anger to dampen now the source was gone.

“They’re gone now guys. It’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around them again, holding them close. 

“Victor.” He looked towards Dad to see him looking at him with a frown, his eyes tired, showing how just how much the interaction had drained him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not? They deserved it!” He argued sternly. “Talking like they ever cared about Mom when all they did was leave her and you floundering because they couldn’t have a wedlock grandchild soiling their reputation!”

Dad sighed. “I know. But Vic, the Carter’s have power in this city. We’d do well not to make them hate us.”

His frown deepened, feeling annoyance towards Dad. “I don’t care what power they have, and they can hate us as much as they want. I won’t let them ruin Mom’s day further.” 

Dad just shook his head, not saying anything else. Though he could tell he wasn’t happy with his response.

A few hours later, the last people left the wake and they headed home after thanking Edward for letting them use the hall and helping him clean up.

They returned to the empty apartment that felt so much more empty somehow now that they had that Mom was completely gone. It weight on all of them heavily.

Dad headed wordlessly to the couch, where he laid down, still in his full suit and tie, and closed his eyes. 

He watched after him and let out a tired sigh. As much as he wished he could do the same, head to his room and curl up into ball, he had to take care of and feed Susie and Ben. 

It was dinner time anyway, and they would be hungry, so he should make something.

He wouldn’t do anything elaborate today, he decided, since he didn’t have the energy for it. Maybe a grilled cheese could be a good idea? Simple but flavourful. Also filling for their little bellies to not be rumbling during the night..

He turned to the Twins who stood there silently, looking lost and upset. Today wasn’t just a hard day for him and Dad, it was hard for them to. Mom was gone from their lives all too soon, after only a few years with her. 

He swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. “C-Come on, let’s let Dad rest and get some dinner, yeah? You hungry for a grilled cheese?” He said as he gently urged his siblings towards the kitchen, not waiting for an answer.

He sat them down at the table and began pulling out what he needed; Cheese, bread, butter, a skillet, a spatula, three plates and a knife and a knife, and turned on the stove and let it get up to temperature before laying the skillet on the stove and to prep. 

He first grab the half loaf of bread, cutting it into slices and quickly butter one side on each, before he then started on the cheese and began to cut the cheese block into thin slices. Once that was done, he placed the first slice of butter bread on the skillet, butter side facing downward, then laying down the cheese on top, before topping it with another slice, and set to wait for the bread to toast and crisp, and for the cheese to melt. Once one side was toasted, he used the spatula to flip the sandwich onto the other side and let the process repeat.

Cooking, now, was almost calming for him in contrast of the stress of the day. The sizzling on the butter in the skillet making the tension in his shoulders unwind. 

For a moment, he allowed himself to close his eyes and just breath, listening. It was so familiar, almost nostalgic.

If he imagined enough, he could imagine someone else stood in front of the stove, the skillet in her hand as she flipped her perfect grilled cheese, a smile on her lips with pure enjoyment. 

It made his eyes prick behind his lids, the feeling of longing filling him as he thought of her.

Why did everything have to go so wrong? Why did she have to go? Why did she have to leave them? Leave him?

Oh Mom…I miss you.

“Vicky?”

He jumped being brought out of his thoughts, blinking his eyes to hold back the tears that were now blurring his vision. 

“Yeah Sue?” He asked turning towards her. 

"The Grilled cheese is done.” 

The words registered and turned back to the stove where the grilled cheese was sizzling, the cheese so melted it was running out of the sandwich. 

“Oh shi-shoot-.” He quickly corrected himself. “Thanks Sue.”

He slid the spatula under the sandwich, lifting it free from the skillet, sliding it onto a free plate and handing it to Sue. “Here you go.” He gave her a strained smile before turning around and beginning on Ben’s, repeating the process, this time not allowing himself to get distracted until the second grilled cheese was done. 

A few minutes later, he place Ben’s plate down in front of him, before turning off the stove and leaning back against the counter, not making one for himself since he still wasn’t hungry. He felt that if he ate, he might throw up.

He sat watching the Twins eat in the now silent kitchen.

Susie finished her grilled cheese first, sucking the grease that lingered off her little fingers. He smiled fondly at her. “Good?”

She nodded. “Uh huh.”

He asked the same to Ben, who was still eating. “What about you Ben? Good?”

Ben’s cheeks were filled like a chipmunk with un-chewed grilled cheese as he nodded. 

He chuckled. “That’s good.”

“Vicky?”

He turned back to Susie, who was frowning down at her plate. It made concern fill him. “Yeah Sue?”

She looked up at him with her big innocent eyes. “Will we ever see Mommy again?” Her voice was small. It made his heart squeeze.

He opened his mouth and closed it again as a lump formed in his throat. He felt like crying all over again. 

He walked around the table and kneeled beside her chair, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears and cupping her cheek.  “O-Of course we will Sue.” He gave her a small shaky smile. “When your time on this Earth is up, you will reunite with her in Heaven and all be together again, as a family, you’ll see.”

“Promise?”

His lip trembled, and he swallowed back the sob that was crawling up his throat, looking between her, and Ben who had long finessed eating and looked at him with his own wide eyes.  “I-I promise, both of you, that you will see her again. B-But until then, she is looking down on you, on all of us. Even though she isn’t here with us physically, she will always be here with you in everything you do. O-Okay?”

Susie nodded, and so did Ben. “Okay Vicky.”

He nodded as well, feeling the restraint on his emotions begin to weaken. “O-Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked out the window, seeing the sky start to darken. “Well it’s getting late and it’s almost your bedtime. Let’s get you two to bed.” He blurted out as he quickly stood from his knees and ushered them out their seats towards the bathroom, passing by the couch where Dad lay, staring at the ceiling blankly.

He helped them brush their teeth and get into their pyjamas and into bed. He kissed them each on the forehead, saying goodnight, before turning out the light and heading to his own bedroom, shutting his door behind him. He could leave the washing up until tomorrow.

He flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, not unlike Dad had been doing, thinking about Mom.

What was life going to be like without her? What were they going to do without her? Was it always going to be this difficult? 

It didn’t take too long for the tears that he had been holding back to be let loose, and this time, he let himself cry, and mourn the woman that was gone from his life too soon.