Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘…the perfect gift’s gonna come to me…any moment now…’

In the Circle-Q after school, Bruno nods slowly as his best friend declares that between slurps of her slushie, one of her very distinctive thinking faces on.

Even as he does that, he contemplates what Kamala – and him, sorta – can get Mr Khan for Father’s Day, which is fast approaching.

(Bruno always tries to help Kamala with the perfect Father’s Day gift for her dad.)

(A, she’s his best friend.)

(B, Mr K deserves an excellent Father’s Day gift…)

(…and C, he is the closest Bruno has to a father-figure, given that he has no idea where his father is or whether his father is even alive, and even if he did know those things, he would not be getting his father a Father’s Day gift anyway.)

Kamala makes one of the noises she makes that signifies I have an idea, Bruno, and it is AWESOME (read: imagination and creativity guaranteed, consistency with the laws of physics and feasibility decidedly not).

She also yanks the slushie straw from her mouth too quickly and with too much force as she simultaneously points at him, splattering herself with red, sticky, icy water, and causing the straw to drop to the floor.

Kamala makes an entirely ridiculous face at her slushie, like she’s accusing it of personally betraying her.

(It’s oddly endearing. Even adorable.)

(Yeah, look, Bruno knows, okay?)

(He’s so gone.)

With a wry smile, Bruno hands her a napkin and a fresh straw from the collection near the slushie machine.

Kamala smiles at him in thanks for a millisecond, before that smile shifts into a grin and she almost-bounces a little.

‘Okay, so, here me out, dude: Abbu’s Trip to Space, Take Two, But Make it Fun This Time.’ The way KK says it, the capitalization is clear. ‘We’ll need Carol’s help, of course –‘

‘-Kamala, didn’t your dad describe space as hell?’

‘Yeah, hence why I’m trying to, like, fix that, by showing him that space can be awesome…’ He looks at her. ‘…hey, let me cook!’ Bruno keeps looking at his best friend, who makes a face. ‘…yeah…not my best work, is it?’

Very wryly, very dryly, Bruno replies.

‘No, no it isn’t.’

-

A series of photos of Yusuf Khan on Father’s Day over the years, taken by Aamir Khan on the orders of his mother:

-

Yusuf is sitting at the Khans’ dining table, wearing a black and grey striped sweater-vest – his Father’s Day gift from Aamir – and grinning widely. He is proudly holding two handmade clay fridge magnets – one is rather misshapen but is recognizable as a love heart with a sloth painted on it, the other is a tidier cricket ball.

-

(That year, Kamala and Bruno’s second-grade teacher was able to get the clay at a steep discount, so had a special Father’s Day craft activity for her students.)

(Mrs Freeman also hadn’t batted an eyelid when Bruno started making a cricket ball, nor had she asked who he was making his gift for.)

(Mrs Freeman remains one of his favourite teachers, even after all these years.)

-

Yusuf is sitting at the Khans’ dining table, grinning excitedly. In front of him, there are three items:

A pair of tickets for a Major League Cricket game in NYC, featuring MI New York.

An extremely colourful hand-drawn card on which ‘Father’ has been misspelt. On the front of the card is a rather impressive drawing of Yusuf, Muneeba, Aamir and Kamala standing in front of their house. Bruno and Nonna are sitting on top of the Circle-Q sign that appears to be hovering in the sky above the Khan house, waving. There is also an aeroplane in the corner. This is labelled with increasingly tiny text, like the writer has run out of room – ‘Nani’ and ‘Kakoo Chacha’ can just be made out.

A second hand-drawn Father’s Day card, with correct spelling. This card is neater but also less colourful, and is not so much decorated with drawings but rather geometric patterning. The colours chosen also clash somewhat.

-

(Yeah, Kamala once misspelt ‘father’. On a Father’s Day card. For her father.)

(Hey, she was really busy getting the drawing of her family perfect! And it is really good, especially considering that she was nine at the time!)

-

A close-up of a grinning Yusuf with two painted rock paperweights cradled in his hands. He is peering at them like he is very excited. One of the paperweights has eyes and glasses and a beard but very little hair on its ‘head’ – it is clearly meant to be a pet rock. The other is painted with the Pakistani flag multiple times, reminiscent of Pakistani cricket super-fans.

-

(Yeah, Kamala turned her rock into an Abbu pet rock.)

(Hey, she was ten at the time, okay?)

-

Yusuf is standing in front of the Khans’ fireplace, grinning widely and gesturing at his torso. He is sporting a bright orange tie that clashes terribly with both his shirt and trousers. A somewhat-matching tie pin made from a hair clip – silver with a couple of orange and red beads glued to it – is attached to the tie.

-

(The orange tie was on sale, and thus in his budget, and Bruno is partial to orange, personally, but in hindsight, Bruno thinks…)

(…look, he was eleven, and his fashion sense was…well, it was worse than it is now.)

(Being Mr Khan, though, Mr K had still grinned and hugged both him and KK, thanking them for the wonderful Father’s Day presents.)

-

A short video – slightly shaky – taken by Yusuf Khan on his phone, of a drawing in his daughter’s distinctive art style in a light-up photo frame that vaguely resembles something MacGyver would decorate his house with. The drawing depicts Yusuf – grinning extremely excitedly – alongside former Pakistani cricketers (and cricket legends) Wasim Akram and Imran Khan, as well as SRK and Kingo Senior, all of whom are – in various ways – gesturing or pointing at Yusuf as if he is very cool.

-

(If you ask Kamala, she and Bruno totally managed to do each other’s projects justice!)

-

A short clip, filmed on Muneeba Khan’s phone by her kids via committee:

Yusuf Khan sits at the Khans’ dining table, Muneeba alongside him, dramatically enjoying a cup of tea from a mug that declares he is the World’s Okayest Dad and helping himself to a piece of barfi from the box of South Asian sweets in front of him. Muneeba is shaking her head and waggling a finger at her husband’s antics, as if they are in a Bollywood film, and at the end of the video, she sneaks a piece of barfi herself, and she and Yusuf dissolve into laughter, Muneeba taking his arm after popping her sweet into her mouth.

-

(Mrs Ng, one of the Circle-Q regulars who is even older than Nonna, recommended the tea leaves to Bruno.)

(Mr K and Mrs K had insistently brewed some for all of them to enjoy with the sweets, and it isn’t chai, but it was really good tea, at least in Bruno’s opinion.)

(He has no idea if his taste in tea is any good, but he greatly prefers it over coffee, which Nonna gently teases him for.)

(Nonna is Italian, so starts her morning with a coffee, usually an espresso.)

-

Muneeba is going through yet another box of junk in the attic when she hears her husband make a noise behind her. She looks up and over at Yusuf, and finds him smiling and looking very moved, very touched, as he looks down at the box in front of him. He has two construction-paper cards with children’s handwriting on the front in his hands…

…oh. He must have found the box where she put all of the craft projects, all the gifts, that the children used to bring home from school, when they were little.

Muneeba knew that she did not throw those away – of course she would not throw those away, many of them are not very good craft projects, but they are precious, because they were made by their children when they were children!

She puts down the junk that her ammi sent them – God knows, what this even is! – and goes and puts her arm around her husband. Yusuf leans against her, sniffles a touch (and not due to all this dust in the attic; this is why they had to clean it out!) and they take a moment, to just look at all these treasures they saved.

All these memories, from when their children were children.

Carefully, tenderly, Yusuf puts the cards back in the box. Muneeba takes it from him, setting it in the stack where they are putting everything they absolutely must keep.

Her husband smiles as she carefully seals it with duct tape – this is temporary, until they have time to go through it properly; they cannot let dust ruin the contents! – and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

Mashallah, their children have grown up, and grown up so well.

-

Yusuf grins at her as he hands her a mug of chai, as they watch Kamala carry a very large stack of boxes down the stairs. Muneeba shakes her head, but smiles back at him all the same over her mug, before she feels that smile shift a little as she looks over at their daughter.

Kamala has placed the stack of boxes that she was carrying on a Noor platform by the back door, her hands and arms shrinking back down as Aamir, Tyesha, Bruno and Nakia ferry the boxes outside to put them in the trash and the recycling.

Tyesha and Aamir had insisted that they rest, take a break, and the rest had agreed quickly, and between them, they are now very efficiently dealing with everything that must be thrown out.

-

(Mashallah, they have grown up, and grown up so well.)

-

There is so much worry, and it will give her so many grey hairs…

…but she and Yusuf are so, so proud of all their children…

…and it is surprisingly useful around the home, to have a superhero for a daughter!

Chapter Text

Yusuf sighs, shaking his head a little, as he walks up to New York Mutual’s entrance and opens the door.

He’d walked past a group of campaigners supporting that Warren Fisk for the NYC mayoral election in a few days.

Nakia has many strong opinions about this man.

None of them are positive.

Yusuf and Muneeba do not like him very much either.

He says all of these things about superheroes – about vigilantes, he calls them – and it makes them worry.

He is saying these things about their daughter, and her friends. Good people – good kids – trying their hardest to help people, save people. To do good.

Yusuf understands, he knows, that things are not very good in New York right now. Some of that spills over to Jersey City, and he is a father, so he worries, when Kamala goes out to protect the people of their hometown from that.

Even with Bruno watching over her as her ‘guy-in-the-chair’.

(Kamala has repeated that enough times for him and Muneeba to remember that term.)

Even with Carol and all her power not too far away thanks to the bangle.

(Quantum Band, the correct term is, Yusuf reminds himself.)

He is a father, and he worries.

So, Yusuf understands (and so does Muneeba) why the people of New York are scared and worried, why they are desperate for someone to fix this, to protect them and their families and loved ones.

But when a person – especially a powerful, wealthy man like Fisk, a man who people still whisper and even protest has done terrible things in his past – begins to say that he wants to make the city great once more, lays the blame for all the problems at the feet of one group – one small, new group – well…

…Yusuf worries even more.

First, they come for one group (small and new and so strange and faraway for almost everyone), and then it is another, and then it is another…

There is that poem. First, they came for some people, and I did not speak up because I was not one of them, and then, and then…and then, there was no one left to speak up for me.

But Yusuf does not need that poem, or Sheikh Abdullah’s reminders in his lectures, or the words of young Nakia and Zoe, or the stories and actions and light of his daughter, their little Ms Marvel who is Jersey City’s Ms Marvel now.

He has…how would the children – the young people – put it; Tyesha used it just last night at the dinner table, explaining something to him…

…Yusuf has lived it.

And because he has lived it – because he lives it - Warren Fisk and what he says…he gives Yusuf a bad feeling.

A very bad feeling.

As he begins his day, an idea comes to Yusuf, and he smiles.

Zoe has several different keychains and patches on her backpack, and little things that she makes sure are visible in her videos online or in photos of her, quite regularly. He asked about one of them a couple of weeks ago, when Kamala and Bruno had brought her home for dinner along with Nakia, and the importance of – what word did they use? – visible allyship was explained to him.

Yusuf has now learned – and it makes a lot of sense, he just has never quite thought of it this way, in these words – that it is important to support those who are marginalized (like those small, new groups it is so easy to make others ignore or feel uncomfortable about or even hate) and amplify their voices, and that one way of doing that is putting up a little visible sign that you are there for them and want to help.

That is not all, of course, far from it, and it is important to not just put up that little sign and do nothing else – or worse, not actually help at all – but putting up that little sign is something he can do, a little bit of good he can do.

New York Mutual has many rules and regulations.

But they are allowed little personal decorative items on their desks, where they talk to customers, and where customers can see them…

Yusuf would like it to be known that New York Mutual is a superhero-friendly bank!

…or, well, more truthfully, at least that he is a superhero-friendly Assistant Bank Manager.

-

‘Zuzu, where can I buy cool Ms Marvel stuff…merch, yes, that is the word Kamala uses, merch. Zuzu, where can I buy very cool Ms Marvel merch?’

-

Yusuf stares at the suggestion from Zuzu on the screen of his phone.

Then, he blinks.

And then, he grins.

It is so cute! So adorable! So loveable!

And very obviously Ms Marvel, and a bit sparkly too, so it will be eye-catching and very visible!

Perfect!

The store is a store on Etsy, but Yusuf knows what Etsy is, and that it is very much a legitimate store nowadays – he has had multiple business loan applications for people who run Etsy stores, and several of them had very good figures and paperwork, even better than some of those so-called ‘real’ businesses.

He asks Zuzu to put it in the cart and tries to authorize Zuzu to check out – Bruno said that the latest updated version of Zuzu has all of this scam protection, and will also check to make sure that Yusuf has not typed in the address wrong, or his debit card number wrong.

(Mashallah, Bruno makes a new update to Zuzu every month or so.)

(He and Muneeba keep trying to tell him that he does not have to, and Bruno just shrugs and says he had an idea, or he was a little bored, or that it was really very simple.)

(Kamala does tease her best friend sometimes and say that it is not good if Bruno gets bored, because if he is bored he does science that is mad…)

(…Yusuf supposes that some of Bruno’s gadgets and gizmos…)

(…well, as wonderful as they all are, and as brilliant and good as he always has been…)

(…some of Bruno’s gadgets and gizmos are a little odd.)

(There were all those rocket-ship plans he kept drawing on napkins and scrap paper when he was a little boy that had made him and Muneeba and Nonna worry – and had contributed to sending Bruno to get his IQ tested, like his and Kamala’s second-grade teacher suggested.)

(And the fast-growing and strangely hard foam that he accidentally covered the Circle-Q roof in when he was thirteen; Nonna had called Muneeba for help on how to get the stains out of Bruno’s clothes…)

(…and sometimes, Zuzu is a little odd too.)

Yusuf asks Zuzu to make the purchase, because Muneeba has said that if he absolutely has to buy something off the Internet, to use Zuzu to do it, because he has sent the parcel two blocks down twice now…

…and he once had to wait until Monday to go to work and sheepishly ask Mr Aldrich to unblock his account because New York Mutual’s top-of-the-line fraud prevention system had flagged his debit card activity as suspicious and decided that his card got stolen.

That was very embarrassing; his dear wife really is trying to look out for him!

(The fraud system is top-of-the-line of what currently exists, but maybe Yusuf should see if he can get Bruno a job upgrading the system to something better than anything that already exists…then again, Yusuf supposes that Bruno is going to be a lot less bored now that he is studying at Columbia while he finishes his last year of high school at Coles, and of course, he would never want to disrupt Bruno’s studies; they are very important, after all!)

Yusuf looks down at his phone screen at last, having returned from being a little lost in his thoughts.

Strange. He is still on the checkout screen.

His New York Mutual app has not made his phone buzz with a notification either. It does that whenever he spends money.

Yusuf repeats his instructions to Zuzu.

Nothing happens.

He tries again, and then again.

‘…you are possessed by the evil djinn again, aren’t you?’

Yusuf directs that at Zuzu in the corner.

Zuzu’s flashing light just blinks like normal.

He shakes his head and lowers his finger, then calls Bruno by pressing on his contact in his phone – in the not-living-in-the-future way!

-

‘Hey, Mr K…oh, that’s odd, hang on, let me check…’

Bruno had thought that Zuzu’s latest update was functionally free of bugs, given the success it had last week in preventing Mr K from accidentally purchasing fifteen green sweater-vests, instead of the one he wanted…

-

Bruno blinks at the extremely extra custom Ms Marvel Funko Pop that Mr Khan is attempting to purchase.

Look, it is naturally, indisputably awesome that his best friend is a superhero.

(It is naturally, indisputably awesome that Kamala Khan is a superhero.)

(She’s Kamala Khan.)

(She’s kind and bright and everything light in the world. She cares easy, trusts easy, loves easy, and brightens so many people’s lives, like a sun, and she makes them want to shine and be better too with that generosity.)

(She’s like a little hurricane - stubbornly determined and impulsive, brave and a little reckless, all ridiculous crazy plans and an even-wilder imagination and an indescribably big heart - an indescribably large capacity for love - with seemingly-endless strength and grace and compassion that she uses to endure bigotry.)

(Look, Bruno is well-aware that this, A, sounds, ridiculous and dramatic, and B, that he is obviously biased, but…he’s always known that Kamala would be an incredible superhero.)

(The imaginary Kamala in his head – who is almost as talkative and almost as adorable as the actual Kamala – asks if that means he always had a Feeling that she was gonna develop superpowers one day, then gleefully asks if that means he’s Force-sensitive and if he can work out how to test for midichlorians.)

Bruno shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks back at the image displayed on his computer screen, alongside the text of Zuzu’s code.

It is naturally, indisputably awesome that Bruno’s best friend is a superhero.

However…

…sometimes, such as when you’re staring at a bedazzled Funko Pop version of said best friend…

…one does realize, now that one is (sorta) on the other side, that, well, one’s inner fangirl or fanboy and everything associated with that can be a bit… intense. Too much. Somewhat off-putting?

(He remembers when KK called him when he was at CalTech and spent a cumulative solid thirty seconds over their conversation declaring Bruno, I’m on T-shirts!!! with varying degrees of inflection.)

Bruno briefly considers redirecting Mr Khan.

(He also makes a mental note to examine Zuzu’s algorithms and see if he needs to make an adjustment or two.)

But…

…he can see all the faces KK’s gonna make when the custom Ms Marvel Funko Pop arrives, and…it’s very Kamala and very adorable, and…

…look, gag-gifts are a time-honoured tradition between best friends and one that is not unfamiliar to his and Kamala’s relationship…

…and finally, it’s really hard to say no to Mr K.

(Sad Mr Khan, as Kamala puts it, is very sad.)

-

Look, Bruno will concede that this was a moment of weakness, okay?

But, his, uh, feelings aside, he’s always been terrible at saying no to KK.

(He has been ever since she insistently shared her homemade chicken boti wraps with him, not taking no for an answer, when they were seven and on a field trip and he’d forgotten to pack a sandwich while getting himself ready for school while Nonna opened the Circle-Q.)

(That is, he has been terrible at saying no to Kamala Khan ever since the day they became best friends.)

Over the years, Bruno has also concluded that several Khan family traits are clearly heritable, with Kamala and Aamir having inherited several traits of varying degrees of obviousness from their parents.

(For example, Aamir and Mr K make almost the exact same face when saying mashallah.)

(Likewise, Mrs K apparently will never let him leave the Khan house without extra food for later, to the point of somehow managing to prepare and pack said boxes at incredible speed that may defy the laws of physics, so that she can thrust them upon him as he runs off for a shift…)

(…and similarly, Kamala has superpowers – which do, upon analysis, obey the known laws of physics – and the day they became best friends, thrust a chicken boti wrap at him with so much insistence she nearly hit him in the nose with it.)

Ergo, Bruno argues, it may be reasonable to conclude that it is very difficult to say no to Mr Khan, which is a trait that was inherited by KK, which may largely or even wholly explain why he is not very good at saying no to her.

The imaginary Nakia in Bruno’s head teases him about denial.

(This is, admittedly, a fairly common experience.)

Bruno allows himself a singular private moment to wallow in self-pity in his own head.

Look…he told Kamala how he feels, he wrote it all down on paper – not for her, but for his own sake.

She must have read it, but she hasn’t said anything, and they’ve just carried on like always as just best friends (which isn’t just anything, and isn’t just carrying on)…

…so, Bruno assumes that she doesn’t feel the same way.

(Which, of course, is fine. More than fine.)

(Whoever Kamala likes – or doesn’t like – that way is her choice and only her choice, and besides, he knows she loves him – always has, and always will – and that’s so much more than enough.)

(Just best friends forever isn’t just anything.)

None of this is a new conclusion for Bruno.

It’s just…sometimes…there’s moments…

Look, sometimes…sometimes there’s moments in which it is really hard for him to accept that Kamala doesn’t feel the same way about him, okay?

Sometimes, there are moments – like when she looks at him in a way that’s a little exasperated and a touch more teasing but all love, or smiles at him in a particular way that’s soft and sweet and slow – when it’s basically impossible not to hope.

-

As he starts his shift down in the store, Bruno shakes himself out of his thoughts, grabs a snack from the box of recently-expired non-halal snacks under the Circle-Q counter (he saves the halal ones for when Kamala, and Nakia, are around), and brings up Zuzu’s code on his phone.

…there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with any of Zuzu’s algorithms or other programming.

…but maybe he needs to account for how far deep into the search results Mr K is prepared to scroll to find the perfect piece of Ms Marvel merchandise, and simultaneously how easily Mr K can get distracted and thus how deep into a rabbit hole of similar purchases/’customers also bought’ he can dive.

…in hindsight, given the heritability of various Khan family traits, Bruno thinks, smiling wry and fond, he should have accounted for this already.

Chapter Text

Yusuf smiles to himself as he opens the bag of his favourite candies that he bought on the way to work, tipping them into the nearly-empty bowl that he keeps on his desk, the bright orange wrappers catching the early-morning light coming in through the windows.

They catch his eyes, those bright wrappers, and after a moment of consideration, Yusuf picks one up, unwraps it and pops it into his mouth, putting the empty wrapper into the now-empty bag.

Muneeba does not let him eat much candy at home; his dear wife worries about his health.

(His wonderful Muneeba keeps their family well-fed and healthy, keeps their home so well!)

(And Yusuf knows he is getting older, knows he is at the age where he must take care, lest his heart or another part of his body fail…)

(…but sometimes, he does wonder if Muneeba worries a little too much, astaghfirullah.)

Muneeba does not allow him to keep this bowl of candy at home.

But Yusuf loves a little sweet treat, a little snack, it does wonders for his spirits and his focus when it is 3 pm and there have been many things that need his attention as Assistant Bank Manager…

…so, Yusuf keeps the candies he loves on his desk at work, and always remembers to share with his customers.

(They are really for the customers, after all!)

…he also used to say nothing when Muneeba tutted at the toffees her ammi sent her from Karachi, yet ate a few whilst unpacking the ‘junk’ anyway…

…and now, Yusuf says nothing when his dear wife asks him to hide the toffees her ammi sent from Karachi before she eats them all.

-

(After all these years together – mashallah! – they understand each other very well.)

Chapter Text

Kamala groans, then rolls her eyes a little as Ammi seems to remember yet another thing, and bustles away from where she’s been fixing up Aamir’s outfit and over to the photographer, showing her something on her phone, gesticulating around the little photography studio.

Auntie Humaira mentioned to Ammi over chai that she’d had family portraits taken recently.

And then – totally predictably – Kamala’s mom had decided that they had to have family portraits taken too…

…and now, here they are.

Everyone’s dressed in Ammi-approved outfits, and once she’s done with the poor photographer and finishes her Fussing, they’ll all look Ammi-approved, and then, they’ll take the Ammi-approved family portraits that your abbu and I will treasure for the rest of our years, when you are all grown up and out of the house with families of your own!

…yeah, you can totally hear Kamala’s enthusiasm, can’t you?

She adjusts the dupatta draped over her shoulder that goes with the shalwar kameez that her mom swept into her room with this morning – with, like, a lot of excitement and chatter; apparently, she, Auntie Ruby and Auntie Nazia picked it out at Saeed Fashions especially for Kamala, by, like, committee, and she’ll look so good in it, like such a beautiful girl!

Ammi is still busy with the photographer – her dad’s jumped in now too, and the poor woman looks a little bit overwhelmed (her parents kinda do be like that) – so Kamala reckons she’s got a few minutes to be on her phone without getting Looks of the Disapproving Ammi variety or Fussing over her hair and the eyeliner her mom did for her earlier.

She pulls out her phone and pulls up her most recent text chain.

(It’s her text chain with Bruno, like it is most of the time.)

-

A series of text messages sent by Kamala Khan to Bruno Carrelli:

so not what I was gonna do today

I got plot bunnies to wrangle/write!!!!

can you feel creativity like seeping out of you?

in the bad way ☹

like losing it

not getting into the zone and it just flowing out of you

guess seeping has that like connotation right?

-

Kamala sighs. There’s no tell-tale three dots as Bruno types – he’s probably busy doing something, he’s way better at replying than she is.

(Kamala tries, but sometimes, she reads the message and then gets distracted halfway through comprising her reply – either whilst writing it in her head or whilst typing it out – and then doesn’t wind up replying, or she’ll swear she did, but somehow…didn’t?)

(It literally happened with Naks two days ago, and Bruno last night.)

(Seriously, why is she so forgetful???? Why is she kinda a mess????)

Kamala’s thumb briefly hovers over the text chain she shares with Nakia, before she remembers that her bestie is at a protest against remnant GRC policies, so won’t be replying.

…and then, Kamala remembers that she probably shouldn’t be texting Bruno right now; he’s studying for the Chemistry Olympics Team USA trials – no, Olympiad, oops, Olympiad, she keeps getting a little mixed up with that…

Bruno’s busy, ‘cos he’s studying to try and make Team USA for the Chemistry Olympiad. He almost made it last year – back when they were just high school Freshmen when the team’s usually made up of Seniors! – and was picked as a non-travelling reserve.

Inshallah, Bruno gets picked this year.

(He really wants it, like, really, really badly.)

(And not just ‘cos a spot on the team is basically-guaranteed to come with big college scholarships, the ones that pay for almost everything.)

(So, of course, Kamala really wants her best friend to get it.)

(And not just ‘cos he really wants it.)

(Bruno’s awesome. He’s a genius – no, he’s a super-genius.)

(Kamala wants the whole world to know that. To see that.)

-

A series of text messages sent by Kamala Khan to Bruno Carrelli:

Sorry!!!!!

forgot for a moment ur studying

good luck!!!!

I believe in you, Bruno!!!!

ur gonna make the team

don’t get too SCIENCE!!! and forget to take breaks + eat snacks btw

consider this your official reminder

gonna call you when I get home for a quick study break?

Or do you have a shift tonite?

Ammi says I gotta put the phone away [a couple of grumpy emojis]

but we’re gonna drive over to the circle-q tonight and drop off dinner for you and nonna

hey, you know ammi cooks for you already!

plus

I gotta practice

gotta pass!!!

Inshallah

-

A couple of messages sent by Muneeba Khan to the Whatsapp group chat she shares with Ruby, Humaira and their friends:

[A photo of the Khan family in front of a professional photographer’s background, all dressed very nicely and looking at the camera: Aamir and Yusuf – being taller – are positioned behind Kamala and Muneeba. The youngest Khan is positioned front and centre, her father’s hands on her shoulders, her mother’s hand resting on hers. Although all of their smiles are somewhat unnatural and awkward – such is the nature of posed photos like this – Kamala’s is the most awkward.]

(This photo is also sent individually to Bruno Carrelli, Nonna Carrelli and Nakia Bahadir.)

This is the preview they gave us, the photographer says that there should be better ones, but it is not bad, no?

I am sorry Kamala is not wearing the dupatta you chose Humaira – but the photographer said that it clashed with mine, the way we were standing, and it had gotten very wrinkled!

Chapter Text

Yusuf bustles over to his desk from the break room, unlocking his desk drawer to look for the spare cutlery that he knows he keeps in there.

It is a small metal set, inside a little recycled fabric bag, made right in the Greater NYC area, sustainably and ethically.

(It was an Eid gift from the Bahadirs; Yusuf sees young Nakia’s fingerprints all over it!)

Today, Yusuf forgot the cutlery he normally brings from home, in his lunch bag, with his lunch.

Perhaps he should not be surprised that he forgot something…

Yusuf packed his lunch bag today, at least somewhat – he’d grabbed the Tupperware from the fridge and put it inside, anyway, if that counts.

His dear Muneeba was not feeling so well this morning, so he had waved off her attempts to make them all breakfast and pack his lunch bag as she usually does, getting her to sit down on the couch and sip some chai and nibble on one of her favourite toffees instead.

Yusuf can make his own breakfast and pack his own lunch, and so can Aamir and Tyesha and Kamala!

Of course, their breakfasts are not as delicious or perhaps healthful as those that Muneeba makes…

…but one day of choco-nut spread on toast will not harm them!

(And it is so yummy and sweet and a special treat, choco-nut spread!)

And it is not hard to put a Tupperware into a lunch bag, Muneeba already did the hard part the night before, packing everyone’s boxes and labelling them!

…though, Yusuf concedes, smiling wryly, when one is not in the habit of doing it, like he is not…

(…and when one is busy eating one’s breakfast and trying one’s best to look after one’s dear wife even a fraction as well as she looks after him and their family at the same time…)

…it is a little hard to remember to pack cutlery for one’s lunch.

Muneeba buys and cooks extra food for Yusuf’s lunches every day, and lovingly packs a Tupperware for him every night after dinner, and she even puts his lunch into his lunch bag with napkins and cutlery and an ice-pack when it is needed and hands it to him every morning!

(He has offered, of course, to help, but Muneeba just looks at him, and sends him to go take the trash out or go check on Kamala or try and convince Bruno to accept a lift home or maybe load the dishwasher at most.)

(The kitchen, and especially what winds up on their dining table…those are Muneeba’s domain.)  

Mashallah, Yusuf’s wife is the most wonderful woman in the world!

Muneeba also says that it is worth all the work and all the effort so that he does not eat from a halal cart every day, because it is bad for your heart and your weight and your blood pressure and your cholesterol, not to mention it would be so expensive, Yusuf! Kamala is already giving so much of our money to Najaf, we do not need you to be giving the rest to Halal Guys!

Yusuf agrees that it is the financially sensible choice, and the healthy choice…

…and though sometimes a man just wants something delightfully greasy for lunch…

…the carts here in NYC, though very good, are not quite as good as Najaf’s, and they all charge for sauce!

Yusuf reaches into his desk drawer, nudging aside the rock decorated to look like him (which is now missing an eye, unfortunately) and the rock painted with the Pakistani flag (just like the Pakistani Hulk’s friend with the Pakistan top-hat that Yusuf is a little jealous of).

(He still treasures these gifts from Kamala and Bruno - made with their own hands and so much effort and love! - all these years later, but paperweights are not very useful nowadays, what with almost all of New York Mutual’s functions being performed on computers.)

Yusuf also moves aside his little stash of Hostess Cherry Pies – he still has seven left, between the ones that Bruno had stuffed in the car’s glove box and the ones his daughter had brought home for him from the Circle-Q a couple of months ago.

(Bruno had secretly stuffed the glove box with all these Hostess Cherry Pies he found, completely undamaged, in the wreck of the Circle-Q!)

(As he and Yusuf unloaded the car with the last of his things that they had managed to salvage from the ruins - whilst Muneeba was busy getting Kamala to help her make up the couch into a bed for him and start the first load of laundry to try and save what was left of Bruno’s clothes from smelling like smoke - Bruno had told him to look in the glove box, and when Yusuf did, all these Hostess Cherry Pies came spilling out!)

(Very funny, very clever!)

(And very kind and polite of him too.)

(Of course, Yusuf expects no less from Bruno…)

(…but no thanks were needed, to take him in while Nonna was still away, and help him salvage what he could from the destroyed Circle-Q.)

(They could not leave him out on the street with nothing and nowhere to go!)

Yusuf’s stomach grumbles, and he considers eating one of his precious Hostess Cherry Pies – Muneeba found his secret stash at home and threw it out last week, so these are all he has left – but he reminds himself that he will be eating his lunch in moments, when he finds the spare cutlery that is in here somewhere, he knows it…

He puts all the Hostess Cherry Pies on his desk chair temporarily, so that it is easier to look, and finally finds the little cutlery bag, half-hidden behind a box of paperclips (also now mostly obsolete) and on top of a bright blue envelope.

Yusuf grins to himself and makes a noise of triumph – he knew it was a good idea to leave this emergency cutlery in his desk drawer! – and as his stomach rumbles again, he puts everything else back inside his desk drawer and hurries back to the break room to eat his delicious lunch.

Chapter Text

Gabe Wilson strides into the Circle-Q for some snacks and supplies, waving at Bruno behind the counter.

The kid waves back with a smile for his favourite guidance counsellor, and Gabe smiles back a little wider.

(Bruno’s a good kid, the smartest one Gabe’s ever seen walk through the halls of Coles.)

(He’s just got a bit of a chip in his shoulder, but Gabe’s sure as he ever is about what’s gonna become of a student that Bruno’s gonna make, it, especially now that he’s convinced the kid to apply for the Early Immersion Program at CalTech.)

(When Bruno makes it big, Gabe’s sure that he’ll feature in one of the early chapters of his autobiography, that moment in his office at Coles immortalized in the historical record…)

Gabe’s grabbed himself some Cool Ranch Doritos, a couple cans of Red Bull and a salad sandwich – gotta set a good example! – when his eye’s caught by a half-dozen 25-packs of bright blue envelopes sitting on a shelf, marked down at a heavy discount.

Huh.

Nice colour, bright, vibrant.

He’s got this idea about giving some students letters, for some of the difficult conversations that they find more difficult to have in-person. Letters might be easier for the kids, and of course, it’s his job to make things easier for the kids, and innovate to do so.

(They all love the memes he printed out and put up on the wall!)

But plain white envelopes, standard issue from the admin office?

They’re too business-like, too serious and unapproachable.

Not him.

Not what he’s going for with the kids.

Gabe nods to himself, and re-arranges his snacks and lunch in his arms so he can grab four packs of the envelopes.

That should do him for the school year.

He heads to the counter to pay, and maybe reassure Bruno that he hasn’t heard back from CalTech yet, but no news is definitely good news, it means he hasn’t been cut in the early screening rounds!

-

When the Circle-Q doors open, Bruno looks up from his, Kamala and Nakia’s group chat on his phone.

(Currently, it’s full of emojis, exclamation marks and reassuring logic; he’d made the admittedly poor decision to look at CalTech’s Early Immersion Program website before his shift today, to see if they’d made any announcements about next semester’s admissions.)

Mr Wilson walks in, and Bruno automatically smiles his customer service smile at the guidance counsellor. It comes out somewhat awkward, but Mr Wilson, as always, doesn’t pick up on it, and proceeds to grab various snacks from around the Circle-Q, before making a bit of a face as some kind of realization hits him and also grabbing a salad sandwich.

The guidance counsellor also grabs a heap of the bright blue envelopes they’ve got at less than half-price.

They’re a shade of blue that Bruno really likes, but, based on the sales figures, most of their customers do not.

He’s planning on using some of his store credit to buy a pack later, if they don’t all sell by closing. He can put birthday cards and holiday cards in them, or perhaps use them to enclose a letter for Mr and Mrs K with instructions for Zuzu; he’s almost done with his latest major project, there’s just a couple more bugs he needs to fix up, and he thinks he can improve the aesthetics of the unit somewhat with the parts he scavenged yesterday.

(The Changs who run a restaurant half a block down were upgrading some of their appliances, and Mrs Chang had come in during one of Nonna’s shifts, offered Bruno whatever he wanted out of the old appliances before the scrap metal company comes.)

-

A couple of months and several very memorable events later…

-

The first day of school after Winter Break, Kamala walks down the halls of Coles, sighing a little as she adjusts the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

It doesn’t quite feel right.

Coles is as loud as ever, the hallway as crowded as ever, and Miguel grins at her and says hi, holding his fist out for a fist-bump as always from where he’s in front of his locker chatting to Paul, but…

…it doesn’t quite feel right.

Like, objectively, it’s as loud and crowded as ever, but…

…Kamala glances to her right.

Of course, there’s no-one there.

(‘Cos Bruno’s 43 hours away.)

Things seem quieter and emptier.

-

Kamala opens her locker, and blinks at what she finds inside, on top of her textbooks, like it was slipped through the slits.

There’s a bright blue envelope on top of her chem textbook, with her name written on it in Bruno’s handwriting.

His handwriting is kinda nondescript, like, generic, but Kamala can recognize her own BFF’s writing…plus, who else would leave a bright blue envelope in her locker?

(Hey, don’t let him fool you – Bruno’s got a flair for the dramatic! Plus, he likes colour!)

Kamala pauses, the blue envelope’s edge pinched between her fingers, and swallows.

It feels…heavy.

And not, like, literally. Even though it feels like there’s more than a couple sheets of paper inside, based on how thick the envelope is.

She’s startled out of her thoughts by a noise behind her; it’s the same couple who are always flirting in front of her locker.

Kamala’s gotta grab her stuff for chem and get going before the bell.

She takes a little bit of a deep breath – ‘cos it’s not a bad feeling she gets, looking at the envelope, like, not at all, but it’s just…big and heavy. Then, Kamala shoves Bruno’s letter, as carefully as she can manage, into her backpack to read later.

-

Seriously? It’s the first day of school after break, dude!

Kamala looks at Mr Wilson in front of her, who is grinning, and the ‘special delivery’ he’d pressed into her hands: a rather full bright blue envelope.

The guidance counsellor caught her just after her last class for the day, English.

(She and Naks aren’t in the same class; Nakia’s in Miguel’s English class along with Zoe.)

(Kamala used to have Bruno for company in English, but he’s 43 hours’ drive away at CalTech…)

(He said he’d call after he’s done with classes tonight, and Kamala can’t wait to hear all about her best friend living his dream, where he’s definitely gonna get Discovered and start the journey to becoming the next Dr Bruce Banner and Tony Stark – hey, Bruno should dream bigger, people, he’s a super-genius! Like, you seen what he can do with old appliances and discount bits and bobs from the hardware store and literal junk in his room above the Circle-Q?)

Mr Wilson clears his throat.

Kamala blinks, pulled out of her thoughts (which, she’s gotta admit, were starting to get into, like, daydream territory).

The guidance counsellor is looking expectantly at her.

Kamala just gestures with her right hand using the envelope he handed her; she can read it later, dude. Alone.

But Mr Wilson – ‘cos he’s Mr Wilson – just gestures back at her and the envelope.

…oh, God, he wants her to read it in front of him? Like, doesn’t that defeat the entire purpose of writing a letter???

-

More college talk.

Of course it’s more college talk.

It’s college pressure talk.

-

Kamala quickly excuses herself to go to the bathroom, shoving the letter into her backpack carelessly.

She might kinda-accidentally imply to Mr Wilson that it’s that time of month, but she can hardly bring herself to care.

She gets out of there and into a bathroom stall, all on her own, without Mr Wilson making movie references or trying really badly and in a really cringey way to, like, emotionally connect with her, or just being Mr Wilson, and that’s all she really cares about for that moment.

-

‘Hey, KK, Zoe and I are going to Habibi’s for a smoothie, they’ve got a 2-for-1 special, and the chocolate one you like is back on the specials menu…’

Nakia’s voice, a little sing-song, breaks the silence, and Kamala manages to smile a teeny-tiny bit.

(Her bestie is the best.)

Kamala opens the stall door, and almost-immediately glomps her best friend.

She really needs a hug right now.

Nakia just hugs her back, like she isn’t surprised at all (‘cos she isn’t; she’s Kamala’s best friend and she’s THE Nakia Bahadir).

It all kinda tumbles out of Kamala – Mr Wilson, college talk, does he know what the point of letters are?, college, your future, college, your future – but she knows that Naks will get it, even if her explanation ain’t exactly clear.

-

Her bestie is the best.

-

As they emerge from the bathroom, Kamala turns down Nakia and Zoe’s renewed invite; she’s gonna just head home instead.

She’s not really feeling Habibi’s today.

Besides, she wants to get her homework done as early as she can.

(It’s the first day back, how do they have so much homework already?)

(Seriously, she hasn’t even started yet, and Kamala’s already never felt, like, busier in her life!)

Yes, that’s right, she wants to get her homework done ASAP.

No, Kamala’s not been replaced by aliens or mind-controlled or infected with prions or something!

The earlier she gets her homework done, the longer she and Bruno will have to chat tonight, plus, it seems like a good idea to get her work done as soon as she can; Jersey City might need its friendly neighbourhood superhero!

(Just…hopefully not tonight?)

(Somehow, she doubts Mr Singh will accept I was kinda busy saving the city as an excuse for not having done her stoichiometry homework and her failing the totally-surprise pop quiz he’s gonna pull on them tomorrow.)

-

As Kamala declines her favourite chocolate smoothie from Habibi’s, Zoe and Nakia exchange a look, heavily tinged with concern, over the top of their friend’s head.

-

When Kamala gets home, Abbu is home already.

(He works on Saturdays in exchange for a half-day every Friday and random shortened days on the other days of the week.)

Ammi’s out shopping, though, so her dad’s sitting on the couch and eating a Hostess Cherry Pie, both of which her mom doesn’t allow him to do.

Abbu smiles at her, even though he gets a little wide-eyed, like he’s worried she’s gonna tell Ammi what he’s been doing.

(She won’t; Kamala’s always got her abbu on this one, even though she mostly agrees with Ammi that Hostess Cherry Pies do not count as food; they’re gross, you can, like, taste the preservatives that’ll make you last forever, and not in a good way!)

‘How was your day, beta?’

-

Five minutes later, Kamala’s promised her dad a dozen Hostess Cherry Pies fresh from the Circle-Q and is handing over a bright blue envelope that she pulls out of her backpack for him to hide from her ammi in the one hiding place they have that it’s guaranteed she won’t find it: behind a lock at his work, New York Mutual.

…she can totally explain! Okay, okay, fine, fine, she totally can’t explain. Kamala has no idea what just happened or why, she just…panicked.

Like, one moment she was trying to tell Abbu about her day, and then the next, she was having a literal nightmare vision – okay, not, like, literally due to the Noor-slash-her-bangle, it’s a, like, figurative use of literal – about her mom finding Mr Wilson’s letter and reading its contents whilst cleaning her room, and it’s Bad, so Bad…

…and next moment, she’s promising Abbu Hostess Cherry Pies and handing over the envelope.

Kamala sighs and plops down on her desk chair.

Growing up is so much harder than advertised.

(Seriously, can she get a refund? Compensatory free slushies or smoothies or shakes for the next six months while she’s figuring stuff out? At least a one-time voucher for a gyro from Najaf’s?)

Kamala throws her head back, staring at the ceiling.

Then, after a moment, she takes a deep breath, and opens one of her desk drawers, the one where she keeps important things.

She carefully extracts Bruno’s letter from her backpack.

It got a little bit battered, so she straightens out the corners as carefully as she can with a twinge of guilt before placing it into her Important Stuff desk drawer to read…later.

She feels a stronger pang of guilt for not reading it immediately, but…

Bruno left her a letter ‘cos he wanted her to read it while he was 43 hours away. While they had…a little space from each other. Maybe, like, a chance to do a little growing and growing up independently?

(Not alone, or with any kind of distance between them, ‘cos they’re best friends and there’s texting and calling and video chat…)

(…but just a little bit of space and independence and a chance to, like, figure a couple things out for themselves?)

He left her a letter ‘cos he wanted it to be, like, no pressure.

And he’s Bruno.

He won’t mind that she’s just saving it for later, when she isn’t so overwhelmed.

(Kamala is not going to forget about it.)

(Yeah, she’s got a problem with that, but this is Important and it’s from Bruno, and she is not gonna forget about it.)

(When they talked about everything that happened last semester, before he left, Kamala made a promise to her BFF, and to herself, that she’s gonna do better.)

-

Yusuf’s daughter looks so tired, so overwhelmed.

Growing up is hard.

He may be old now, but he does still remember those days!

And, Yusuf thinks a little bit wryly, he remembers, more recently, seeing Aamir through it.

(He wore so much black, growing up was so hard it made his son a goth!)

Growing up is hard…

…and Kamala, she has her powers, and has her duty, her purpose, to help people, to save people, to do good. To be a superhero. To not just be their little Ms Marvel, but all of Jersey City’s Ms Marvel (who is not so little any more, as he and Muneeba have to keep reminding themselves, his dear wife especially, astaghfirullah…).

Growing up is hard, and Kamala is carrying so much, and she is carrying it with a little less help, now that Bruno is all the way in California.

Yusuf looks down at the bright-blue envelope with his daughter’s name written on it, not battered or torn or bent despite having been in Kamala’s backpack.

Whatever he can do to help his daughter, whatever she allows him to do to help, whatever she is asking him to help her with…

(Mashallah!)

…of course, he will do it.

-

At his desk at New York Mutual, Yusuf unlocks the lockable drawer of his desk, and pulls the blue envelope his daughter entrusted him with out of his briefcase.

‘Maybe I should put this in the vault!’

He says that to himself with a chuckle, before pausing with the letter halfway to his desk drawer.

He wonders what this Mr Wilson, Kamala’s school’s guidance counsellor has said, what wise – or perhaps, not so wise – words he had for his daughter, what he is worried about for Kamala’s future.

Yusuf shakes his head at himself.

No, he will not read it. Of course he will not read it!

He will restrain the worry and nosiness he has as a father, and respect his daughter’s privacy.

Kamala trusted him.

‘Your daughter trusts you, Yusuf.’ He mutters that to himself. ‘Mashallah.’

And he trusts her.

Yusuf carefully places Kamala’s blue envelope in the back of his desk drawer, placing it underneath his little stash of Hostess Cherry Pies, soon to grow larger!

He closes his desk drawer and locks it.

-

Months and a trip to space later…

-

Kamala stares at the unlabelled blue envelope sitting on her desk, which she’s finally pulled out of her Important desk drawer.

This blue envelope that Bruno left in her locker, whatever is actually inside…as soon as she’d gotten it, she’d know that it was…Important.

Like, really important. Maybe even life-changing or something.

(And not in the whole more-info-about-the-mutation-in-her-DNA way, or even a reminder to be careful while he’s gone, don’t blow anything up etc.)

(There was plenty of time for Bruno to tell her all that before he left, and why would he risk writing down anything about her mutation on paper and put it in her locker?)

(Besides, before he left for CalTech, Kamala’s best friend had handed her a USB protected by Zuzu, with a password that only the two of ‘em could ever guess and needing facial recognition to open, and that contained, like, everything Kamala could ever want to know about her genes.)

(Bruno’s good at what he does – so good! - and when he goes science, it’s SCIENCE!!!)

(…and he must have been really bored.)

Bruno’s letter, as soon as she’d gotten it, was Important and maybe life-changing and it was big and heavy and her life was kinda overwhelming (or a lot overwhelming) for a while…

…and she missed him so much…

…and she was right, Bruno’s time away meant that they did get to do a little growing and growing up and figuring things out, and…

…Kamala started feeling some things – well, that’s not right; the feelings don’t feel new, they feel like something part of her (her heart?) have known for a long time, just the rest of her is finally realising, finally figuring it out…

(They’re best friends; they’ve been best friends since they were seven, and Kamala’s always loved her best friend…)

…and that was big and heavy and a little overwhelming and definitely Important and life-changing…

…not in a bad way, not at all, the literal opposite! – but it’s just a lot.

So, Kamala hasn’t open Bruno’s letter yet.

Yeah, she’s a superhero and she’s supposed to be brave, but…it’s Big. Could change her life. Could change their lives. Change…everything, in a way.

She’s had a lot on her plate; she’s got a lot on her plate, being Ms Marvel, being a Marvel, Monica, starting up the Young Avengers, plus being a brown girl from Jersey City still in high school, with homework and SATs and college applications to worry about?

Kamala takes a deep breath, and finally cracks open the envelope…

…weird, it’s really easy to open, considering it was sealed…

…she pulls out the pieces of paper inside…

…and it’s not her best friend’s generic-but-so-recognizable handwriting, writing about things that are Big and Important and Life-Changing and a teeny-bit-scary-but-oh-so-wonderful, mashallah.

It’s in Mr Wilson’s handwriting. Going on about college.

Kamala’s eyes go wide.

‘Oh, shit.’