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All things considered, today had been a pretty good day.
Murphy had done several sick tricks, only fell down thrice, (and only one of them required actual medical attention), he had gotten Vivian drenched by way of a street puddle, Zoe had actually given him a thumbs up (he had no idea why, but he got one), and Mitzi had gotten some free bubblegum (a single wad that someone had ‘abandoned’ on a bench). And to top it all off, they arrived on their apartment floor with no elevator issues on perfect time for dinner.
So yeah, today had been ‘pretty cool’.
“Welp, guess I’ll see ya tomorrow Murphy!” Mitzi said with her usual energy, as if she hadn’t just spent several hours running around the city. “Unless you wanna join me and my mom for dinner, she’s got banana bread ;)”.
Murphy didn’t know where she got the impression that appealed to him (or that Meryl would even allow that), but either way it didn’t make a difference.
“Not tonight, Mitzi, my old man’s supposed to be making salmon burgers tonight.”
“Oooooooo, sounds yummy. Well, have a great night! Sweet dreams sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite!”
“Yeah yeah, you too Mitzi.” And with that they parted ways for the day.
_________
The minute he opened the door to his apartment, Murphy’s nose told him his assumptions were correct. Man, did being right smell good or what. “I’m home!” He shouted as he propped his skateboard up by the door.
“Murphy, honey, welcome back!” his mother called back, “Can you please do me a favor and help me clean the table?”
Now understand, Murphy cared about being cool, it was his whole identity, (and it was most certainly too important to him). But while looking cool was his greatest public concern, his house wasn’t public. So even if chores were the absolute farthest thing from rad, there was a certain ‘resignation’ around his family. Around his parents, and his mom especially, he could afford to let down his persona. Not too much, of course, but just a little bit, enough to suck up a few less-than-cool moments for their sakes.
So he gave a quiet sigh to himself, before turning to shout again “Sure Mom”.
_________
Wiping down a table wasn’t ‘radical’ work, but considering the heavenly scent that foreshadowed the promise of cooked salmon, he had a fair bit of incentive to go all out.
“Oh Honey, it looks great!” his mom said as she came in, holding two plates in each hand, each holding a beautiful, succulent salmon burger; cheese melted and gooey, lettuce crisp and clean, bun golden brown, and crinkly fries that were probably the perfect blend of soft and crunchy.
Suddenly Murphy found himself needing to look good, which thankfully wasn't hard for him, “Heh, of course it does; nothin cooler than going all out.” This of course was him trying to sell his aesthetic as a net positive to his mom; actually living by that mindset would mean doing way more work for school than he was comfortable with.
Delia set the plates down and moved to her son.
“Oh great” he thought.
“It’s the coolest, atta boy, Honey.” she said, wrapping her arms around his massive head.
Murphy was not a hugger. He didn’t like hugs from anyone, not from his parents, not from his grandparents (not that Grandma would ever), not even from Mitzi. He didn’t care for physical affection. He got no satisfaction from it whatsoever. He didn’t purr, he didn’t get all melty, he didn’t feel the need to return it, there were absolutely no special emotions he felt when his mother wrapped her arms around him. Murphy was not a hugger.
“You can thank me by letting me eat.” he said through her embrace.
“Alright alright,” she said with a light chuckle as he released him, “just try and wait for your father”.
“Sure Mom.” He said reflexively.
Thank God he didn’t take long, otherwise Murphy might’ve lost his mind just staring at his beautiful burger.
“Here I am.” The old man spoke in a low voice while carrying his own plate.
The family gave their thanks and finally dug in. Murphy could confirm that, ‘yes, it was everything it smelled like. Freaking awesome’.
“You did great Honey.”
“Thank you Dear, I tried. I actually got the idea from Serah, you remember, the intern down in the print room—“
Old people flirting (or whatever they called this) was not a concern for Murphy, all that mattered was the food. Thankfully the overwhelming flavor of salmon plus cheese, bread, and (to a lesser extent) lettuce was plenty strong enough to drown out their lovey-dovey junk.
“-Murphy?”
The boy was tragically snapped from his burger fueled ecstasy at the sound of his name; seems like this was the part where they asked how his day was. He was amazed they hadn’t gotten the message yet that he would 99.99% of the time just say ‘it was fine’ and leave it at that.
Still, was it really too much to ask to humor them? “Yeah Dad?”
“Me and your mother have something we need to tell you.” he said with his usual smile.
“Oh great, this could go any number of ways.”
Murphy immediately started preparing responses. Grades? He was keeping steady B’s with only a couple C’s, he was doing fine. Hospital bills? He’ll stay ‘safe’ inside and play video games until the money comes back up.
“I got assigned a massive story in another city, so we need to head out of town for about a week.” his mother said.
… Oh.
Ok, that’s a lot more left field than he thought, but alright, he liked his independence.
“That’s cool, I won’t break anything while you’re gone.”
He was just eating a handful of fries while he said that. When he looked up his folks were giving him some kinda ‘look’.
“What?” I can restrain myself for a week! … Probably.
“You’re coming with us.” She said flatly.
Oh…
…What!?!?
“What? Why?”
“Zoe’s got exams and work, she can’t deal with you and Mitzi for a whole week. And any other sitter we hire will charge exorbitant prices because you’re you.” His mother explained.
He was heading out of town for a week…
Ok ok, chill out, this isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened; a week away from school is always great. And a week away from Vivian and [bunny], solid W. A week away from Mitzi…
Mitzi was complicated. While being away from his best friend wasn’t fun, it was probably healthy that they got away from each other every once in a while, not that he would ever even think of saying that to her face. Which begged the question, ‘how the heck was he gonna tell her this without her crying?’
Murphy let out a begrudging groan before begrudgingly agreeing to go (not that he actually had a choice). “How long till we leave?”
“Our flight leaves on the 13th, so three days from now.” dad said.
Ok, 3 days, I can work with that. Plenty of time to tide Mitzi over, maybe I can convince her mom to pack some sna—waitaseconddidhesayflight???
“Wait, flight?”
“Yeah, the station is paying for our tickets, I’ll take that over losing who-knows-how-much in gas money any day.” his mom rambled. This led into a conversation between his parents about gas prices and how much specifically they saved by having their tickets paid, all of it completely irrelevant to Murphy.
Flying… they would fly to get there. In a plane.
That was fine. That was totally fine. Murphy had no problems with flying whatsoever. Why would you think otherwise? He’d flown before after all, in a helicopter with his Mom. He’d wanted to jump out and skydive (she didn’t let him), flying in a plane definitely wasn’t any different. It was absolutely fine, and knowing he’d be flying in a plane caused no emotions whatsoever. Everything was fine.
Everything was fine…
_________
“A whole week!?”
The next day had arrived, which meant Murphy had to break the news to Mitzi. It was going about as good as he expected…
“Eh, give or take.” he responded in a half-baked attempt to both calm her and sound cool.
Mitzi threw her arms around her best friend in an Oscar worthy performance, “What am I gonna do without yooooooooooooouuuuuu!!??” She sounded just as dramatic as you’re probably imagining.
“Chill out Mitzi,” he said as he patted her head, “I’m sure you can find some stuff to do for a week”. He meant it, a girl like her could make hours of entertainment out of a pinwheel.
“Yeah okkkkk.” she pulled out of her hug. “But what about you? What are you gonna do?”
“Eh, we’re staying at a hotel, I’ll probably just play my Gameboy and watch TV all day”. While not as active as he’d like, it was a perfectly fine way to spend at least 5 days. Heck, in that time he could probably finish both Mega Man 2 and Metroid 2.
Honestly finding a way to spend a week was least of his worries
“... Ok” the squirrel conceded, “Well, I’ll miss you”.
It was a heartfelt, innocent comment from a close friend.
Murphy knew that.
So why did his brain go down a [rabbit] hole addressing the implications of “I’ll miss you”?
Of course she would miss him when he was gone, she was his best friend. But he’d be back eventually.
Wouldn’t he?
There was no deeper meaning there, she’d miss him and he’d miss her, up until they saw each other again.
But what if they didn’t see each other again?
Mitzi stepped back towards her apartment door, “Well I - guess I’d better let you go get packed up.”
“Wait no!” He said way more intensely than he meant.
Mitzi just stared at him, great, now he looked like an idiot.
“I mean, I’ve got all tomorrow to pack, why don’t we just - hang out today, all day?”
Mitzi formed one of her iconic grins at the idea, “Yeah! A whole day of awesome fun before your big sendoff!”
“Heheh, yeah. Big sendoff.” Why’d she have to phrase it like that?
“Well then, c’mon, we’re burning daylight!” she said as she ran to the elevator.
“Yeah hold on, just lemme get my skateboard!”
_________
Stunts, graffiti, fights with Vivian, [bunny] stalking them, a proper goodbye to Zoe (maybe it was just him, but she didn’t seem too upset about the news, probably just him), all around they made the most of their last day together.
He just hoped it wasn’t their LAST day together.
Eventually though, they had to head home. But of course, Mitzi had to make a show of it, since this was his “last day”, even though he technically would still be around tomorrow.
“I’ll miss you Murphy, come back soon, ok?”
That wasn’t in his control, which was what scared him.
He gave her a head pat just to satisfy her, and privately worried if she’d just do this all over again once he actually left.
_________
Turns out he was spot on, after a whole day of packing, Mitzi was completely ready to rehash the entire drama. But by then it was flight day, and they had a schedule to keep, so she had to speed it up a bit. Frankly she was talking so fast to keep up with him out the door that Murphy didn’t understand half of what she said, but as they stood outside their car, Mitzi was forced to give her final final goodbye.
“Bye Murphy, bring me back a souvenir”.
With what money??? “If I can Mitzi.”
She went in for one last big squirrel hug.
And honestly?
He almost hugged her back, knowing this may be his last chance
He gave her an affectionate rub on the head, the closest he ever really got to giving hugs.
“Murphy, we need to go!” Mom shouted.
Taking the cue, Murphy got Mitzi to let go, hopped in the car and immediately opened the window.
He and Mizi waved at each other until they were both out of sight.
_________
They made it to the airport with 15 minutes to spare, not bad.
Dad hauled most of the luggage, mom carried a suitcase in each hand, and Murphy had his own suitcase, plus his backpack.
Normally he would’ve felt a small sense of pride from carrying his own stuff, but this time he was too terrified of all the possible ways this could go wrong was no different at all in any way.
“Alright, our plane is American Airlines one-three-two.” Mom recited, despite everyone having gone over it several times now.
“Delightful.” Dad responded, same smile as ever, “It’s a shame the studio couldn’t also pay for first class.”
“Of course they didn’t, we’re lucky they paid for Murphy’s ticket.”
“Strange how they were willing to pay for that, yet not cover costs for a sitter.”
“I think it’s an accountability thing; if they pay for the sitter and something goes wrong, we could maybe sue.”
“That assumes they would be selecting the sitter, which goodness knows they would know nothing about. What’s far more likely…”
Murphy had long since drowned them out, just mindlessly following them wherever they went.
He had more important things to be thinking about, like the chance that this could go so horribly wrong why was he doing this if his Gameboy’s battery would last the entire flight. It’d probably be fine, they were prepared. His battery died; he brought his mp3 player. If something went wrong with the plane? He’d do nothing. If that died, his mom had nanogram books (though he sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that).
They passed through the plane security people without much issue, and passed by any gift shops or restaurants in the airport although he wanted to ask to stop, if nothing else then to stop them getting on the plane, before finally arriving right outside the boarding tube.
Murphy was more terrified than he’d even been up to this point fine, he would have plenty of stuff to do during the trip, like getting trapped playing his Gameboy, or begging his mom not to make him go playing his Gameboy, or maybe he’d die a horrible fiery death with his mom and dadwhatwashedoingHEWASNTGETTINGONTHATTHING!!!!!!!
“Here we are, can I have the tickets dear?” Dad asked Mom.
“Uh, hey, I gotta–take a wizz real quick. Be right back.”
“Honey, we’re about to get on, can’t you hold it for a minute?” Mom asked, sounding slightly exasperated. Of course she would, he was being stupid.
“Nope! Been holding too long, can’t wait, BE RIGHT BACK!”
He started running, he could faintly hear his mom yelling for him to slow down or something. He didn’t care. He just needed to get to the men's room away.
He had to get away.
He had to get away.
He had to get away.
He had to get away.
He had to get away.
He had to get away.
He got to the men's room; it was one of those open bathrooms with just a corner separating the outside from the room itself. He immediately rushed not to a stall, but to a sink. He just started splashing his face with water. Why was he doing this? He didn’t actually know. He realized his hands were sweaty, he squirted some soap, agh, too much! Whatever, he just started scrubbing his hands rapidly, ah I got water on my shirt!! Were his hands wet, or still sweaty? He pressed the button to dry and GOOD LORD WHYISITSOLOUD!?!?!?!? STUPID! Those stupid hand dryers were too loud, why would he use those!? He hates them and he knows it! STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID STUpid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid…
He looked at himself in the mirror. His hands were still wet, all his fur was standing on end, and his tail was puffed up.
“Oh my gosh… you look so stupid…”
_________
Delia was mildly frustrated. Maybe she shouldn’t be, since they’d gone all this time without a single issue, maybe she should be more grateful, but come on! They go all this time without a single issue and now he just darts off, when they were right outside!
She sighed before stopping to take a deep breath in and let it go; he probably wasn’t gonna take too long, she knew him. Even so, she couldn’t help but follow him. Maybe she initially wanted to scold him for darting off like that, but frankly she just didn’t care right now, she just wanted to grab him and get on the stupid thing.
She came up to the restrooms, and it suddenly occurred to her that she would have to assume he was in there and just wait for him. Not like she could risk going in and getting caught, she really should’ve told Vincent to get him-
“-stupid stupid stupid-”
Call it what you will, her journalist senses, her cat ears, her mother’s intuition; whatever it was, in the sea of sounds of people roaming the airport, as she stood right outside, she could hear her son muttering to himself. And he sounded… not happy.
And no one was allowed to make her son unhappy, except her.
Completely forgetting the fact that the rooms were separated for a reason, she peaked her head past the wall and saw him standing in front of the sink. Well, leaning over the sink was probably more accurate. Leaning while aggressively gripping the sink and staring at his reflection while mumbling to himself.
“Murphy–”
“HOLY &$#%!”
“Watch your mouth!”
“You scared the heck outta me!!”
“I’m sorry, don’t swear!!”
…
They both just kinda stared at each other for like half a minute, before Murphy broke the stare by shaking his head and turning back to the mirror.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” he said, his voice devoid of any of his usual grandeur or attitude.
Ok, so clearly something was wrong, which was very uncharacteristic of him. But surely this was nothing; like the eardrops, surely all she had to do was appeal to his cool kid ego.
“C’mon homie, we got a wicked cool trip waiting for us! Your old man is waitin–”
“Would you stop?”
…
That clearly didn’t work; and he didn’t even sound all that angry about it, just… tired.
Alright, the chances of this working are slim, but I can’t think of anything else. Time to be direct. “Hey, is something wrong?” She tried to sound as gentle as possible.
“I’m fine.” He responded, sounding very tired. Well, not tired; resigned she thought was the word.
She stepped closer to him, still keeping some space between them. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah. Yeah… just, gimme a minute.”
There was definitely something wrong with Murphy. But of course, he wasn’t gonna talk, so she’d have to use her reporter’s ingenuity. “If you were really fine, you wouldn’t need a minute for something.”
He stiffened up at that.
“I said I’m fine!” he raised his voice for the first time, “Look, you want to go so bad? Fine, let’s go.” And he just shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking.
She could’ve let him pass her, and they could’ve gone back and gotten on.
But a journalist always pursues a story to its conclusion (crazy how many journalist analogies she could make to parenting). So right as he passed her, she grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back in front of her, “Murphy, what is going on? You are never like this and you know it.”
“I said I'm fine!”
“Clearly not, or you wouldn’t be raising your voice!”
He didn’t respond, just stared at her while gritting his teeth. Then he unclenched his jaw, and probably his fists, and just looked at the floor.
Delia sighed. Given their time limit, she really had no choice other than to be blunt and direct. “Look Honey, our flight leaves in a few minutes and your dad is waiting. So please, just tell me what’s going on while we’re alone.”
Murphy crossed his arms and started gripping his sleeves tightly.
“Look, I promise I won’t say anything if you don’t want me too, this can just be between us, but I don’t wanna have to go anywhere if you’re freaking out over something; so just this once, please talk to me”.
She honestly didn’t know if that worked. He gripped his sleeves tighter, then he started scratching himself, a weird habit he showed every now and again.
His gaze shifted to the side, even more away from her than the floor. She was genuinely thinking about resigning and just forcing the parent card. But—
“i don’t… wanna go…” he said under his breath, just loud enough for Delia to hear.
Ok, this was progress! Granted, it told her nothing, but y’know, it was Murphy! “What do you mean ‘you don’t wanna go?’”
“I don’t wanna go… on the plane.”
Initially she was confused. “Honey, we already explained we can’t leave you. Zoe–”
“I know you can’t!” he said with more anger than he meant, him turning away even further being a subtle sign of regret.
“I just… I don’t wanna go… on a plane…”
“What, like specifically on a plane? Why? You’ve been in a helicopter (and on one, but I’ve blocked that out).”
“A helicopter isn’t the same as a plane…”
She was about to dispute that, but it was then when it clicked for her.
And the conclusion was a lot more serious than she previously thought.
“Waaaaaiiiiit. … Is this about the uh… thing in New York?”
He didn’t say anything. Instead his muscles relaxed; he stopped gripping his sweater, and after a few seconds of silence, gave the smallest head nod.
“Ohhhh.” That explained it. It was an unfortunate consequence of being a reporter; if something really bad happened, her family would find out pretty quickly, even if her son never watched the news himself.
“I don’t… wanna go…”
This… this was a “heck hath frozen over” moment for Delia. Her son, who had no internal restrictions, and whose best friend also had no internal restrictions, was actively afraid of something. And not just afraid, he was so afraid that appealing to his ‘cool cat ego’ wasn’t enough to power through it. She was so used to that method working perfectly; but this wasn’t getting him to take medicine or something, this was a genuine, justified fear. She had to admit, this was uncharted territory. Even when he was a little kid, it always worked if she just convinced him he “needed to be brave for mommy”.
But now? Now she needed a new approach.
She had one in mind, simply being open with him, but she didn’t really place a lot of trust in that working. But she didn’t have time to be coy, boarding for their flight ended in like 10 minutes.
So she took a deep breath, before getting on one knee to put herself at eye level with him (even if he still wasn’t looking at her).
“Hey, listen. It’s ok to be scared.”
He scoffed, which she kind of expected, “Don’t gimme that crud…”
“I mean it; this is a real thing, you’ve–” she hesitated, “you’ve got a good reason to be scared.”
His eye flickered to her and then back to the floor.
“I mean, no fear is totally invalid.” she said in a vain attempt to broaden her point, “but I mean, this especially is a good reason to be scared”.
“i’m not scared.” his face was unmoving.
“Honey, it’s ok to be scared.” She knew he was going to retort that, so she jumped ahead of him,
“Look, I get not wanting to be scared in front of other people, you want to look strong and reliable in front of everyone.” That call-out alone seemed to catch him off-guard. “But it’s ok to be scared around a few people, people who you trust, who won’t mock you or think less of you. It’s… not healthy to keep that persona up all the time.”
“Tch, won’t think less of me… you mean you?” he said with quiet venom.
“Hey, I only laugh when–” when it will get him to do something to protect his image, but she can’t admit that to his face. She sighed, then continued, “I only tease you when no one’s around, and never over something serious.”
“Oh yeah? What makes this so serious to you then?” he spoke bitterly.
She knew he was probably referring to things like the eardrops; it was a tactic she used often to get him to do stuff.
“Look Honey, sometimes you just gotta be strong and push through something. Other times, you just need to ask someone to-” she paused “to be strong with you. There’s nothing wrong with that”.
His eye flicked back to her.
“And hey, airport security already cleared us, same as they did for everyone else on that plane. It’s-“ she didn’t want to make a promise she had no control over, but she couldn’t admit they may have missed something, “-unlikely, that anything’ll happen.” she settled on.
“... and what if something does?”
And there it was. The million dollar question.
Murphy was twelve; Delia knew she couldn’t just say ‘everything would be fine’, he’d see through that. But what else could she say? That there was a slight chance something could slip through the cracks of security? Not to mention the engineering aspect, God knows anything could go wrong there. Aaaaannnd now she was getting nervous. Great.
She took a solid look at Murphy. He’d grown so much, and for better or worse, he was mostly independent. She thought about the time. They were running out of time to get out of here.
There was no simple way of answering this, or getting him out. So what was left to do?
Nothing but fall back on one of her core principles, ‘report the truth no matter how unpopular’.
She put her hand on his shoulder, his body still facing away from her.
“Murphy, sweetie, listen.” She took another deep breath, mostly to show him that she was serious, and to choose her next words carefully, “There’s always a chance something could go wrong, with anything. I can’t outright promise we’ll be ok because that’s out of my control.”
Murphy’s face didn’t change.
“But you can’t let that stop you. You just… need to look at everything and judge how risky it really is.” The irony of Delia potentially telling Murphy how to pursue even more dangerous activities was not lost on her. “I mean, we have the security people, there’s a bunch of engineers and smart people watching everything, not to mention after… an incident, people are generally more careful.”
Ever so slightly, Murphy turned his head towards Dalia, “and what if they did miss something?”
Delia took a moment to think about what to say. “If… in the unlikely event they did miss something…” the words were forming in her head, even as part of her was convinced they were a bad idea. She gave Murphy a soft, sincere smile, “…then… at least we had fun”.
She wasn’t entirely sure if saying that was a good idea, in fact half of her was screaming that was the worst thing she could’ve said; but when she looked back on this moment in the future, she’d be unable to think of anything better to say.
After acting so stand-offish and looking away from her, Murphy finally turned his full face to her, his expression… was one of surprise?
“Fun… you… had fun with me?” Every word exuded disbelief, which pricked her heart a little bit.
“Of course I do. You’re fun, you’re nice, you give me something to think about (admittedly not always for the best reasons). You’re a great kid!” She said with a sincere, sort of subtle, bubbly giggle at the end.
“Tch, you mean the kid who floods your apartment?”
“That only happened once, and I’m over it,” and frankly he should be too. Was this something he actually felt guilty about? It sucked, certainly, but that was like — last year.
“Besides, think about it; you help around the house, you stood by me when I made that bet with Meryl, you made me that—amazing Mother’s Day skateboard,”
Something in Murphy’s face shifted. Somehow, hearing all this laid out at once, it seemed to trigger something in him. Something she didn’t see in him very often.
“You’re an amazing kid Hon, I wouldn’t have you any other way.” although if she could, she would make minor adjustments, just to improve his judgement, “You’re kind, you’re helpful, you’re honest,”
All this alone was enough to make Murphy surprised. He didn’t say anything, just stared in shock as he listened to all this.
“and you know what else you are?” she asked as she put both her hands on his shoulders,
“You’re brave. Braver than anyone I know. Brave enough to get through this.”
Murphy’s face was indescribable. 90% of the time, he would’ve shrugged all this off as “oughy goohy mom stuff”. But for once, when he was actually emotionally open for once, he seemed genuinely flattered by it.
“But… what if–?”
“Hey, no.” she stopped him while she was ahead, “None of those ‘what ifs’. You can’t–” Delia was fully aware of the absurdity of the statement she was about to make, and looking back she would probably kick herself for it, “you can’t let fear stop you Honey. You gotta be brave and get through this.”
His head drifted towards the floor again. Though this time it was more of him being inactive. Seemed he genuinely didn’t know what to say. Delia did though, so with her hand she lifted his chin until their eyes met again.
“And if anything does happen, me and your dad’ll be with you. No matter what.”
Murphy was quiet as a cat l:) . He didn’t say anything, he barely moved, he just stared at Delia, seemingly in awe of… everything. Maybe it was the fact that she actually told him to not be afraid, or maybe it was hearing her genuinely high opinion of him. Whatever it was, it left him completely and utterly speechless.
Until…
“... … thanks Mom.”
It was so simple, yet so meaningful. He was ready to go, she knew that; but before they left, given that they were alone, she felt it best to ‘seal the deal’.
Murphy was not a hugger. He didn’t like hugs from anyone, not from his parents, not from his grandparents (not that Grandma would ever), not even from Mitzi. He didn’t care for physical affection. He got no satisfaction from it whatsoever. He didn’t purr, he didn’t get all melty, he didn’t feel the need to return it, there were absolutely no special emotions he felt when his mother wrapped her arms around him. Murphy was not a hugger.
At least, not normally.
_________
“This has been great an’ all, but can you git outta the men’s room lady?”
The moment was shattered when an unknown voice intercepted them. Immediately they pulled apart to survey the scene.
So yeah, as it turns out, they were never alone. There was a guy sitting in the far stall.
“Have you been there the whole time?” Dalia asked incredulously.
“You say that like I had a choice, your kid just came in here and started having his episode.”
“So you just eavesdropped on a mother and her son while he was having a moment; that’s real mature and not creepy of you sir!”
“Hey, I’m not the one in the wrong bathroom! Which, count your lucky stars no one caught you!”
“And you count your !#@% lucky stars that we need to go! C’mon on Murphy!”
And with that she grabbed his hand, dragged him out of the bathroom and started speed walking towards the plane.
_________
For a few moments they just walked in silence. Delia registering everything that just happened, while Murthy’s face morphed into a smug grin.
“You said-”
“I know what I said, do as I say and not as I do.”
She could hear him snicker, even if he kept his mouth shut. She sighed, quietly admitting she brought this upon herself. “Don’t tell your dad I swore, and I promise I’ll treat you to something once we land.”
“Deal. And don’t think I’ll forget.”
“Now you really think I would try to scam you like that?” There was a noticeable tint of slyness when she said that.
“Eh, I wouldn’t put it past you.” There was a much more noticeable tint of slyness in his voice. You’d think it would come off as bitter or condemning, but the only thing laced into his voice was playfulness.
“Hey now, when have I been known to cheat you?” it was just as playful, but it was a genuine question nonetheless.
“Well, there was that time you broadcasted me not getting you a gift to the entire city.”
“I already told you, I deleted the recording, and we weren’t actually live.”
“You were still gonna post it.”
“Was not!” Ok, maybe she had just briefly considered it, thank God for Vincent. “Besides, that doesn’t answer what I asked.”
His smile briefly faded, “You’ve been known to humiliate me.”
Delia was surprised at that. Not what he was saying, she suspected she might’ve gone too far a few times. What got her was that he was being open, of his own volition, completely naturally. She was tempted to smile, but she kept a straight face to respond to him.
“Yeah, a little. … Sorry for all those times I mess with your head.”
“Eh, it’s in the past. Sides, you’re way more chill now.”
“Thanks Murphy.” she said, letting that smile creep onto her face.
“There you two are! We need to go!” Vincent called out.
“Hey Dad!” Murphy called back as the two sped up their pace. “I’m good now.”
“I’m happy Son. Delia what happened?” he shifted to Delia so quickly it was whiplash inducing.
“He just needed to – get something out of his system. We should be ready to go now.”
“That’s… good. I meant with —- this.” he said as gestured to the space between them.
It was at that moment where Murphy realized he’d been holding his mom’s hand. In public. For the entire walk back. And he didn’t notice. Immediately he withdrew his hand and shoved them in his pockets, his face bright red and his tail bushy as a brush.
Delia would lay into her husband for ruining their moment later, but at the moment they had more pressing concerns. The Law family finally checked their tickets and started walking onto the plane. Murphy notably started lagging behind them, and Delia kept her eye on him.
Seems Vincent noticed, because he started whispering to her as they walked, “alright really, what happened back there?”
Delia whispered back, “so don’t bring a bunch of attention to it, but Murphy’s a bit of a nervous flyer. blame the thing in New York.”
“ah, I see. that’s… genuinely concerning.”
“yeah. now I’ve talked to him, and told him we’ll probably be fine, but he’ll probably still be jittery.”
“yes, well he’s not the type to admit to this sort of thing.”
“right, exactly, so try to make him comfortable in subtle ways, if he asks, we’ll be honest, but let’s try to keep it subtle.”
The cats finally reached their row and started securing their things, Murphy included, even though his fur was noticeably standing on end.
“Murphy,” Vincent spoke up, “where would you like to sit?”
He didn’t respond initially, but after a moment he answered, “Middle.”
Slightly surprising, but he agreed.
“I just – don’t wanna climb over you two if I gotta leak or something.”
“I didn’t ask.” he almost said, before thinking better of it.
_________
They’d been sat down for maybe eight to nine minutes, before…
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking, welcome to American Airlines flight one-three-two with non-stop service to Pascade City. Our flight time today will be approximately three hours and ten minutes, and we’ll be cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet. We’re just about ready to push back from the gate, so please make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened and that all carry-on items are properly stowed. On behalf of our crew, thank you for flying with us, and we hope you enjoy the flight.”
And that was it, they were lifting off, into the air.
Delia kept her eye on Murphy the whole time. He was tense, and he was barely trying to hide it anymore; all his fur was on end, and he was gripping the seat arms tightly. Vincent had already pulled out his laptop to work while they flew, but his attention sporadically flickered between his screen and his son.
She decided to do something she wasn’t planning to do until much later. She reached under her seat and dug through her smaller suitcase before pulling out her items.
“Hey, you wanna read some comic books?” she asked him.
Immediately he turned to her, his mind just briefly taken off of his anxiety. “You brought comic books?”
“Yeah, you can thank Zoe for it. Apparently a book store she was working at was having some kinda crazy sale, and I got nine of these for like – 13 bucks.”
“Dang, that’s pretty good. What’cha got?”
Delia smiled, knowing she’d successfully distracted him. “3 Spider-Man’s, 2 Batman’s, 2 Superman’s (swoon), and a whole paperback of X-Men.”
Murphy attempted an impressed whistle, which really just sounded like him blowing in two directions, but she had no reason to call him out, “Thanks Mom.” he said as he took one of the Spider-Man issues.
“Like I said, thank Zoe when you see her again.” she said, looking over him.
He was smiling. He was actually mildly excited about something. She made a mental note to treat Zoe to something when she got back, girl had no idea what lifesaver she was.
Murphy was about to open up the first issue, but he hesitated, a contemplative look on his face. His eyes moved to his mother, before he turned his head and asked, “Hey, you wanna … read em with me?”
That caught her so off guard her brain just completely froze. So much so that the flight attendant came by with the cart to offer them snacks, and she just sat there frozen.
“Delia, the attendant.” Vincent said, reaching over Murphy to tap her shoulder.
Snapping back to reality, Deila got some coffee and tea for her and Vincent respectively, and some cookies and juice for Murphy (surprisingly he didn’t fuss about not getting any soda, she could only guess which out of a dozen factors was the reason).
“Sorry about that Hon, what did you say?”
“It’s… nothing” he said with the most subtle sound of disappointment in his voice, “forget I asked.”
“No no no, I heard you correctly,” she responded quickly, trying very hard to not sound desperate while not letting the opportunity pass. “Just… why?”
“I mean, I just figured you had nothing else to do, and you got the comics and all, so I just thought…” he trailed off, quieter as he started regretting asking.
“Nevermind, you and Dad probably have work to do, forget I asked.” he said, disappointed but trying to cap the subject before he made a bigger fool of himself.
“She doesn’t have anything.”
Delia and Murphy both turned to Vincent, both surprised for their own reasons.
“She has nothing to do that I can’t take care of for her.” He gave a ‘look’ to his wife, a special, coded look, that clearly conveyed ‘don’t miss this opportunity’. All she could do was give him another coded look. A soft face that just as clearly said ‘thank you’.
“Besides” he continued “I can listen and work at the same time.”
“Are you implying I can’t?” Delia asked with smug playfulness.
“I never said anything of the sort.”
“Uh-huh, sure thing.”
“Can you two not. Please?”
“Yeah, ok ok.” she said while stifling a laugh, “So let’s do this. This one’s about the Vulture, right?”
“You know who the Vulture is?”
“Murphy, I’ve been reading comics since before you were born.”
“Whaat, no way.”
“It’s true, got a whole stack with my parents.”
“I’m gonna need to see those.”
“I’ll put it on the list.”
_________
Murphy would read through all nine comics before the plane set down, no issues whatsoever. He would spend most of his time watching Ben 10 and playing Megaman. Delia would report with her A-game, as always, securing a larger than normal check for the month in the process. Vincent would also take Murphy to a local skatepark, while Vincent himself enjoyed some local donuts. On the day before they were to leave, Delia would treat Murphy as promised by taking him to Cici’s Pizza, where he stuffed himself to brim with Buffalo Chicken and Mac & Cheese pizzas, alfredo spaghetti, breadsticks, cinnamon rolls, brownies, and literally every type of soda they had. Despite the obvious stomach pain he was in, he was incredibly happy, and they spent the rest of their hotel night marathoning Shrek, The Prince of Egypt, and Chicken Run.
They would return home the next day, completely safe.
And thank God, Mitzi forgot about the souvenir.