Chapter Text
The Parr residence stood as a sanctuary tucked away from the snow and rubble filled chaos that remained of Metroville’s shopping center. Tonight, Bob and Lucius started their first night of legal superhero work by taking down a wannabe villain, who was aiming to terrorize the center by bombing the Municiberg department store, the jewel of the city. Ever since the legalization of superhero work, there has been both an influx of aspiring heroes and aspiring villains, neither of which were able to make a name for themselves yet. Newton's third law applied to this matter apparently.
For such an unknown amateur, this villain certainly made an impact tonight. When Bob and Lucius got to the department store, the top half of the store was ripping off the structure like a lid to a jar. Bob was keen on finding the culprit, while Lucius was focused on damage control, trying to cushion the immense amounts of concrete and brick raining from the sky. The result looked like a blizzard tore through the city, but at least nobody got hurt, and the culprit was caught. Now, the supers had to deal with their own aftermath.
The two supers were the only two awake in the house, and the glowing kitchen light was proof of that. Bob was focused on the other man's hands, doctoring up the various nicks and gashes that traveled from his knuckles to his shoulders. Lucius’ insistence on treating his own injuries fell on deaf (or rather stubborn) ears as Bob wrapped band-aids around Lucius’ cut-ridden fingers. Given his injuries, it wasn't a surprise that Lucius would be staying at the Parr residence for the night.
“Hm, for such a moron, he sure knew how to make an introduction.” Bob admitted, a bitter, dread-filled laugh escaping him after. “Let's hope this next batch of villains isn't as dangerous, right?”
Lucius didn't pick up on Bob's question; in fact, he wasn't paying attention at all. He was zoned out, eyes laser-focused on the granite countertop. His posture was unusually slouched, and there was a considerable bleakness in his eyes that Bob hadn't caught before. This made the other man concerned; Lucius rarely acted like this, even after their more extreme missions.
“Luce? You alright?” Bob's soft shakes woke Lucius up, though he still avoided the other man's gaze.
“Yeah, yeah…” Lucius absentmindedly nodded, running a free hand over the other. He then stared down at the palms of his hands, sucking in a deep breath like he was considering saying something. “Bob...?”
“Hm?”
“It's a dumb question,” Lucius started with a strange bit of nerve in his tone, “but whenever you're on a mission, do you ever see civilian faces? Like, you get a glimpse of their expressions, what they're feeling?”
“Well sometimes, but it's not that important.” Bob murmured, burrowing his brows in interest. Social interactions are key in hero-work, but any face can become a blur when you're focused on keeping the whole city safe. “Why're you asking?”
“I don't think I take that in much.” Lucius continued, his eyes still averted from Bob's gaze. “I'm just so used to doing my own thing, I don't take in people's emotions. But today, I saw a lot of fear. So much screaming and crying. Honestly, it made me just as scared.”
“Well, it's normal to feel scared, even as a super.” Bob nodded, standing up to put away the first-aid kit.
Lucius leaned forward, crossing his arms. “I don't know why I'm getting so worked up about it. Was it always that scary, and we just didn't process it?” Bob frowned with his face away from Lucius, not with anger, but unease. Maybe Lucius was right. Maybe it wasn't such a problem back then; but now they had family, loved ones that they couldn't help but imagine in a stranger's place.
Bob didn't answer, but sure spun around once he heard a wet sniffle. Lucius crumpled, his head to the kitchen counter and arms covering it. Bob froze, face stuck with concern and a small part of exhaustion. Slowly, he approached the other man, hands hovering over his shoulders.
“C'mon, Luce, don't cry.” His voice was tired, yet soft, like he was consoling Jack-Jack. “It's not…” A grimace caught onto Bob's lips, twisting downwards with guilt. He didn't really have the right to tell him not to be upset. He was focused on catching that wannabe; not the one to act as damage control, pushing people away from their demise. He didn't get that terror tonight. Instead, Bob sat down with a small sigh, hand now placed on the other one’s shoulder.
“Look at me.” Lucius looked up, eyes slightly sunken and snot starting to peek from his nostrils. God, was he just recently this exhausted? Without a word, Bob held the other man close to his chest. Lucius only deflated again, his arms binding around Bob’s abdomen. “You did good tonight, okay? I can tell it was scary for you. It would be for any other superhero…”
Lucius didn’t respond, only continuing to cling onto Bob. His back still rattled with muffled sobs. One of Bob’s hands caressed the nave of Lucius’ neck, resting his chin on top of his head. “You’re safe now okay? You, and everybody else are safe now. No need to be strong for tonight.”
After a few minutes, the shaking in Lucius began to cease, and he eventually sat back up. He meekly wiped his nose with the heel of his hand, too tired to care about looking decent. “I-I’m sorry, Bob..” He weakly croaked, looking down at the dark stain on Bob’s shirt.
“I’m more worried about your wellbeing than this shirt, Luce.” Bob tiredly chuckled. He stood up, then helped Lucius up. “Let’s get you to bed. Might be best for the both of us to call it a night…”
“Yeah, yeah… Uh, Bob?”
“Hm?”
“Can you stay…?” Lucius’ voice dropped to a murmur once they went to the guest room, or what was practically his own room in the house. Bob felt the corner of his mouth twitch to a soft smile.
“Sure.”
Given the few extra rooms taking up space in the Parr mansion, Lucius could easily take this room for his own; he already had, with various trinkets of his being neatly culminated on the nightstand, desk, and even the wardrobe closet. Lucius had instantly gravitated to the closet, pulling out a decently sized, gray-blue quilt. This was his go-to blanket whenever he spent the night. It was a piece of the Best family that stayed put in the house. The blanket always smelled of Honey's citrus perfume, no matter how many times Lucius had washed it; it wasn't like he was complaining either.
Both Bob and Lucius completely deflated on the bed, then slowly clung onto each other. Soon enough, Lucius buried his face into Bob’s side, stuck between his bulky torso and arm. Bob didn't mind the fact that the other man was hogging the quilt; he knew that blanket was special to him, being there throughout the years, throughout every relocation and incident. After Bob prepped himself up on the headboard, he had to do a double-take of Lucius. He looked so peaceful, his eyes shut and… Was this 40 year old man sucking his thumb???
Bob stayed quiet, but his confusion was loud enough. He was tempted to wake Lucius up, make fun of him, but that didn’t feel right. He slumped back against the pillow, trying to ignore it. This was not the cool, confident man he's come to known, and this couldn't be written off as some random fluke; there had to be something wrong. His mind trailed back to the NSA booklet the family got ever since superhero work was being legalized. A good chunk of the booklet contained certain consequences that can occur due to the work; common things like stress, grief, and relationship troubles. One topic mentioned was something called "regression"; Bob didn't read the section (or much of the booklet to begin with), but he could understand what it was: to return to a younger mental state. His brows knit together with focus, as he looked down to the peacefully sleeping Lucius. For the first time in his career, Bob made plans to read through an NSA booklet.