Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The thing about life was, it went on.

Even when the trajectory of it had changed, even when you couldn't picture what was going to happen next, you still had to get up in the morning. You still had to eat breakfast, and go to work, and pay bills. You still had to clean the fridge.

The TV was playing in the living room, volume low enough that Luigi was only catching a few words now and then. He and Mario had gotten the cheapest package when they first moved in, local news, sports, and the old lady boring movie channel (which Mario loved but would never admit to), and never bothered to upgrade. By the time they could afford it they were too busy to enjoy it.

“-almost one month since the shocking and tragic-”

The baking soda needed changing, but Luigi didn't have any more so he added that to the list of things he'd do when he had time. There was still a backlog of jobs to catch up on, and he hadn't quite gotten the hang of estimating how much he could get done alone. The thought of hiring some help crossed his mind, but Luigi dismissed it just as quickly. It would be too hard to hide how often he disappeared from someone who didn't already know.

“-ask grieving citizens to please stop leaving food in front of the-”

Luigi's hand hesitated over a box of Chinese take-out. It had been sitting with three others in the bottom of the fridge for over four weeks. Mario bought it, so Luigi hadn't felt right eating it, and it was starting to really reek. It should go in the trash. He should get rid of it and stop pretending anyone was going to come back for-

Luigi ignored it for now and moved on to the vegetable drawer. They usually only bought fresh veggies when they intended to cook with them, but there were always neighbors and citizens who passed them “gifts” of windowsill-grown produce. A few tomatoes, zucchini, and a purple carrot. All wilted.

They went in the trash too, and he took the drawer out to give it a good scrubbing. Once that was done the news had moved on to sports, and Luigi paid just enough attention to be able to make conversation tomorrow.

If anyone noticed him enough to initiate conversation, that is.

He dumped out a bottle of apple juice that had started to form scum and tossed the bottle into recycling, hard enough that the bin rattled. So many things had changed, but all the everyday annoyances were still there. Luigi was still overlooked. Luigi was still shy. Luigi was still the one who had to clean out the fridge.

The news was winding down as it reached the end of the hour. After this it would switch to some awful debate program that usually had plenty to say about the way the city was defended. As if the host had ever done anything like superheroing.

Mario had enjoyed the show before they debuted, and kept watching for a little while afterward, but once they became one of the main topics Luigi had banned it from the apartment. It made Mario angry and him depressed.

“-we’ve reached the end of our program for tonight. Remember to stay safe out there, it’s what Super Red would have wanted.”

Luigi grabbed the remote and hit the power button so hard it hurt his finger.

What did they know about what Mario would have wanted? What did anyone know, now? Not even Luigi knew what Mario had been thinking, and if there was one person in the world that should have, he…

The last image on the screen had been that stupid statue they built a month ago. The same day Mario was defeated. It was a decent likeness in the face, but they bulked out his shoulders and slimmed his waistline. It had been embarrassing enough going to the dedication as it was, after fighting for an hour beforehand, and seeing that just made them both self-conscious.

All morning before they left, Mario kept insisting he was going to ask when they would build a statue of “Super Green” too. And Luigi kept saying he didn’t want one (true) and that he didn’t mind being overlooked (lie). They still hadn’t come to an agreement when they got to the pavilion and stood there awkwardly (at least, Luigi felt awkward) while the mayor made a speech.

And then the sky darkened, and Bowser attacked.

It should have been like any other day. It was, at first. Mario and Luigi reassured his hostage (Peach again), lured Bowser away from the civilians, ignored his rambling about his latest weapon, and then…

Honestly, Luigi still couldn’t quite remember what happened next. He remembered the look of shock and horror on Bowser’s face, he remembered reaching for the body wrapped in his brother’s costume as Peach screamed at him to stop. Then it was a blur until he found himself sitting on the ground as Peach gently peeled the blood-soaked gloves off his hands.

Luigi wasn’t sure if the blood had been from touching the body, or from the beating he gave Bowser afterward. He didn’t remember that at all, but there was video. Apparently it was too violent for most social media, but it still got shared around. A lot of people saw.

Maybe that was why he hadn’t exactly been embraced by the city despite being the only hero left - at least then. If their first impression of him was just Super Red’s sidekick who had less visually-impressive powers, and their second impression of him was berserker rage, it made sense they wouldn’t trust him.

It still stung. And what happened in the next few weeks stung too.

But nothing, nothing hurt as badly as when he got back to their apartment that evening, and…

Luigi stared at the blank black TV screen for a lot longer than he should have, then turned back to the fridge and grabbed all Mario’s old takeout and shoved it in a bag.

It was late. It was a big city and there were always a few people around, but the Super Red statue was outside the history museum and it had closed hours ago. Even the mourners had tapered off over the weeks, though people still stopped by to leave things. The base of the statue was nearly entirely covered in candles and flowers and food. Different magazines in the last couple years had reported different things as “Super Red’s favorite,” and Luigi was pretty sure he saw the remains of all of them.

There were stains all the way to Mario’s knees.

Luigi intended to leave a few up higher. He had a decent arm, he’d played baseball before, and after a few tries to figure out the angle and the force needed he was landing pretty consistent hits on the statue’s face and chest. He got one egg roll to splatter directly across Mario’s nose and couldn’t resist a little fist pump.

Then someone stepped around the corner of the museum and Luigi nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Not to interfere with the grieving process,” the man said, “but is there a reason you’re hucking pastries at that ugly-ass statue?”

Luigi’s heart rate picked up for a moment when he heard the voice, something about it setting him on edge. It sounded familiar, like he’d met this person before, but when he turned to get a proper look he didn’t recognize the face.

“They’re egg rolls,” Luigi said, inanely.

“I see,” the man said.

He was tall, and heavyset, the kind of build that would do very well at certain bars Luigi had occasionally patronized. Dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, but someone that size always looked a little intimidating. At least to Luigi.

“He do something to you?” the man asked, nodding his head at Mario's statue.

"Just the same thing he did to everyone,” Luigi said, picking up another egg roll. “He left.”

“Wasn't like he had a choice.”

Luigi let out a dry laugh.

The man said nothing else, just tucked his hands in his pockets and watched. He didn’t look like a museum employee - he was dressed like he worked at a record store, or a tattoo parlor, or a Hot Topic. A lot of black, a lot of metal, and a t-shirt emblazoned with the silhouette of Bowser’s head.

“I know what you are,” Luigi said, picking up another moldy egg roll. He had almost forgotten to grab gloves on the way out, but now that most of his anger had died down he was grateful for them.

The man stiffened. “Do you?” he said, clearly trying to keep his voice calm.

“You’re one of those Bowser fanboys.”

Luigi threw the egg roll, which this time smacked on Mario’s chest and fell disappointingly into the pile of memorial gifts.

There was a pause before the man answered, and all he said was, “What?”

“You’re angry at the world so you empathize with him, I get it,” Luigi said. “Maybe he says things that sound good to you. Maybe you hope he’ll destroy the place you work.”

“Maybe he already did,” the man said. When Luigi looked he was smiling. “Joking.”

“If you’re looking for a new member for the fanclub, you’ll have to keep walking. I’m not on Bowser’s side.” Luigi crumpled up the empty container and threw it at the statue too, though it was so light it fell short.

“Didn’t think so,” the man said. He started walking, but it was toward Luigi. “I know what you are too.”

“I’m not a hero-hater, if that’s what you-”

“Green.”

Luigi froze. He looked at the man, standing only a few feet away now, at least a head taller than Luigi and probably a good hundred pounds heavier. All Luigi was armed with was a box of orange chicken and some particularly rancid shrimp.

“So?” Luigi said.

The man tilted his head, smiling again. He wore thick glasses, but behind them Luigi could see a smug look that he didn’t appreciate at all. “I know who you are, Super Green. I know why you’re doing this. I’ve lost family too.”

Luigi swallowed, but kept his face steady. “My condolences.”

“Back atcha,” the man said. He sounded surprisingly sincere as he added, “Really, I’m. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Luigi said, perfunctorily. “You know you’re not the first, right?”

The man hesitated. “Not the first what?”

“To recognize me. We didn’t wear masks, remember? I still don’t. People recognize me all the time.”

It usually happened when he and Mario were together, which was ironic since nobody noticed Luigi when they were actually in costume. Mostly they just got stunned stares, sometimes a quiet request for an autograph, sometimes an excited, “Oh my god, are you-”

Thankfully it never happened with clients. People tended not to pay much attention to them when they were working. Plumbing just wasn’t a “heroic” job.

It hadn’t happened since Super Red fell in action, but Luigi hadn’t gone out much except for work, of both the pipes and the punching types.

“Damn,” the man muttered. “Thought I had an in there.”

“Well, you don’t. You’re not special. Congrats.”

The man frowned and took a step closer, and Luigi backed up a step in turn.

Why did this man put Luigi so on edge? Was it just because he was tall? It wasn’t like Luigi hadn’t taken down much larger targets. But there was something about him that had Luigi constantly braced for attack.

Before he could say anything else, something buzzed, and the man took one hand out of his pocket. He was wearing a watch that didn’t match the rest of his look, more techno than punk rock. The man touched it and the buzzing stopped.

“Okay that’s fifteen minutes,” he said, looking concerned, “we gotta move.”

“What?”

“Fifteen minutes since I first saw you throwing food at the statue of the city’s late beloved hero,” the man said. “And that means somebody’s called the cops by now.”

They’d only been speaking for five minutes at most. “You were watching me?”

“You can stay here if you want, but I’m- No. Nevermind.” The man suddenly stepped forward, grabbed Luigi under his arms, and threw him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Wh- Hey!”

The man started jogging away from the museum while Luigi squirmed in his grasp. Luigi could have gotten out of it, but despite the current indignity he couldn’t bring himself to hurt a civilian.

“I’m helping you, dingus, now hold still.”

Luigi didn’t, but they only got about a block before the man found an alley to duck into and set him down.

“Look,” the man said, bending down to Luigi’s eye level. Would it be too much to tell him that was a dick move? “I get it, but what you were doing is technically vandalism.”

“Is- is it?”

“If it wasn’t someone that the whole city is mourning right now you’d probably get a ticket at most. And hell, since you’re his brother maybe they’d let you off. But do you really want to explain all that to the fucking cops? If they even give you the chance to explain?”

The man’s hands were on Luigi’s shoulders, so wide that it felt like one of those weighted shawl things he’d tried for his anxiety before.

“I’m… not in a hurry to talk to cops. Thank you.”

“Good,” the man said. He straightened up, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Right. So. Which way are you going?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll walk you home. Least part of the way. The report would have been one man throwing shit at the statue, not two men walking back from the bar or whatever. Though chances are if the cops see us they’ll question us anyway, which-” He stopped, and snapped his fingers. “Gloves.”

“What? Oh.” Luigi peeled off the rubber gloves he’d been wearing, and the man took them and stuffed them into a dumpster that was clearly marked Cardboard Only.

“Okay. If I give you my hoodie it’s gonna be a dress on you, so we’ll just have to hope whoever called didn’t mention what you were wearing.”

“I could work with a dress,” Luigi said. He didn’t usually admit that to people he’d just met, but his head was reeling from how quickly this was happening.

Luckily the man just grinned. “Yeah you could. But not right now, it’d be too suspicious. C’mon, let’s walk.”

Luigi followed him out onto the sidewalk and the man glanced around before he started walking in the opposite direction Luigi had come. Luigi didn’t correct him. It was reassuring that this strange man at least didn’t know where he lived.

Still, if he went too far it would be a pain in the keister to get home. Should they split up? Should he run away?

Then he saw it. Blue and red lights, flashing in the distance. The sirens weren’t going, but there was definitely more than one car. All this for vandalism?

“Don’t run,” the man said softly. “You’re an innocent bystander, remember? You’ll glance at the cop cars because you’re curious, but keep at a normal walking pace.”

“R- right,” Luigi said. He was more nervous than he’d expected. His reputation had already taken a hit recently, getting arrested would sink it into the ground.

The man nudged him as the lights got closer. “Talk.”

“What? About what?”

“We need to look normal, talk about anything. Seen any good movies lately?”

“I don’t have time to see movies anymore.”

“That sucks,” the man said. “How do you feel about that?”

Luigi felt himself start to smile. “You don’t care.”

“No I don’t,” the man agreed. “Tell me anyway.”

Luigi sighed, and started to talk.

Somehow they ended up walking around the city for most of an hour. Luigi did most of the talking, barely noticing the cop cars as he ranted about all the things he’d been holding back. The man didn’t seem to be listening, but he did occasionally grunt or nod. A couple times he opened his mouth and then quickly closed it, as if he’d thought better of whatever he was going to say.

They were questioned once, briefly, and claimed they’d been together all evening. It worked so well that Luigi almost felt bad about it. He was guilty, after all, they were searching for him. But they were the ones who decided to conduct a manhunt over something that could be hosed off.

And then, accidentally, Luigi was standing in front of his apartment building. He’d been the one leading for the last thirty minutes, all his suspicions forgotten as soon as he got to complain as much as he wanted without interruption. He didn’t even know this man’s name, or if he was recording this, or what he wanted by approaching Luigi in the first place…

“This you?” the man said when he noticed Luigi had stopped.

“Y- yes.” Dammit, he should have lied. “I mean…”

“Relax, I’m not gonna tell anyone. This won’t even make a good anecdote, you’re a lot more boring than I expected.”

Luigi couldn’t help smiling at that. “I’m happy to be boring. I get more than enough excitement at my day job.”

“Yeah, but you wanna be acknowledged for all your hard work too,” the man said.

“You were listening.”

“A little,” the man admitted. “I better go, though, it’s way past my kid’s bedtime and he gets upset if I’m not there when he goes to sleep.”

“You have a kid?” Luigi asked.

Wait, why did that bother him?

The man raised his eyebrows. “That a problem?”

“No, it’s not- I mean-” Wait, was this… “Have you been hitting on me?”

The man looked startled for a second, and burst out laughing. The laugh was oddly familiar too, though not quite right.

“No, no, no offense, just… No.”

“I’m a little offended,” Luigi said, though he wasn’t… that much.

“No, seriously, you’re cute but I wasn’t thinking that at all. Just, uh.” The man rubbed the back of his head. “Okay so you know how there’s about a dozen new heroes since your brother died?”

Luigi stiffened his jaw. “I’m aware.”

“The way I see it, your brother was like a load-bearing wall. No matter how sturdy the building looks, you take that down and everything is gonna follow.”

“Or Jenga,” Luigi said. He muttered, “Mario let me win at Jenga about half the time…”

“The way things are right now is not sustainable. The city needs one hero, one figurehead, to rally around.” The man poked a finger in the center of Luigi’s chest. “And I think that’s you.”

Luigi blinked. “Wh- what?”

“You’re the obvious choice. You’re the most similar to him, you’ve been doing it just as long as he has, you already have fans.”

“Nobody remembers me,” Luigi said. He’d brought that up several times during their walk. “I’m always going to be seen as a sidekick. A substitute.”

“Not if you put the work in. Fix your image, do some uh, what’s it called? Public elations.”

“Half the city saw me lose my mind after my brother died.”

“Yeah.” The man gritted his teeth and his gaze drifted to stare off down the street. “Yeah, that was, uh… That definitely changed my mind about you. But hey, it’s not like it can happen twice.”

“Great,” Luigi said, injecting as much sarcasm as physically possible into his words. “Thanks for finding the bright side in all this.”

The man snorted. “Think about it, okay?”

Luigi sighed. “I guess it can’t hurt to think about. Why do you care about all this stuff, anyway?”

“Didn’t you already guess?” The man tugged his hoodie open over his chest, showing off the shirt Luigi had noticed before. “I’m a Bowser fan. Seeing him ganged up on isn’t any fun. This way will at least give the guy a fighting chance.”

Luigi shook his head, but he was smiling again. “He never stood a chance before.”

“Oy!”

Luigi left his new… friend? Fan? Friendly rival? Downstairs and went up to the apartment alone.

He’d forgotten to actually take the garbage out after cleaning the fridge, so he had to go back down again to get the stink out of the kitchen, and had the random thought that it was a good thing he hadn’t invited that guy up and made a bad impression.

Invited that guy up. What was he thinking? He never even got his name.

But it had been a long time since Luigi did something just for the sake of feeling good… If he ran into him again, maybe-

No. No. He was overtired and stressed out, that’s all. Fucking a Bowser fanboy was the worst thing he could do.

Luigi stripped off his clothes and washed his hands and face thoroughly just in case the rotten food had stuck to him somehow. Then threw himself into bed in only his boxers and stared at the ceiling.

After a moment, he got up again and went to his nightstand.

There was a yellow notepad he and Mario kept by the landline to take job information, and a page torn from it was carefully tucked under Luigi’s spare phone charger and an ashtray full of paperclips. He unfolded the letter and read it for at least the thirtieth time in the month since his brother “died.”

Luigi,

I’m sorry. I’m not dead, but I can’t do this anymore.

Please don’t tell anyone.

- Mario

The thing about life was, it was unpredictable.

Bowser had spent the last few years trying, and failing, to conquer the city. He’d come close a few times, he was pretty sure, but ever since those two “heroes” showed up he’d barely made any progress. If weapons development wasn’t so lucrative he might have had to give up before he even got started.

But it was, and testing out those weapons on the city and its protectors had proven an effective advertising strategy. Bowser focused on the big booms, his team worked on smaller and more devious devices, and it all worked out. It was almost… comfortable, having a schedule like this. He’d never lived with this much stability before.

If he wasn’t so furious every time he lost he might have gotten used to it.

And then, on a day that was like any other until it wasn’t, Bowser won.

Okay, he didn’t exactly win. He actually lost pretty miserably, in front of Peach and a live broadcast, beaten so thoroughly that he was still feeling it a month later. Looking back, he was surprised Super Green didn’t kill him right then and there. Bowser wouldn’t have even blamed him for it.

The new weapon was impressive, yes. It took a lot of know-how to combine the strange effects of plants and fungi with machinery, and this time Bowser had used a rocket flower to impressive effect, if he did say so himself. But he didn’t expect it to actually kill anybody. Especially not that damn Mario (the brothers were not great at remembering to call each other their codenames), who had shrugged off nearly everything Bowser threw at him up to now.

And then… he was lying there. Not moving, not breathing. Bowser hadn’t wanted to believe it, but the way the green one looked at him proved it had to be true. Super Red was dead. Everything was different now.

Except that wasn’t true either. Bowser still had to get up in the morning, check the orders that were coming in, make sure production was on track. The numbers skyrocketed after the weapon successfully killed a hero.

His lucky accident was good for business, but the business side of things might not matter much longer. With the main protector of the city gone, Bowser had thought he could steamroll over the other one once the guy was over the manic phase of grief, or however that worked. Hell, maybe he’d be so devastated he’d leave the city entirely. Bowser wasn’t going to ignore an opportunity like that.

So once the worst of the bruises faded he went back out into the streets. New weapon this time, he wasn’t quite enough of an asshole to weaponize trauma, but to his surprise Super Green seemed… basically fine. On the ball, at least. He confronted Bowser, tried to lead him somewhere they could fight without collateral damage, but before they could get anywhere another hero showed up.

And dammit, why didn’t any of these people wear masks? That was clearly Peach. It was one thing to reject him, repeatedly, but another thing to kick his ass in front of everyone! He hadn’t even known she had powers. Who throws turnips? Since when were turnips the size of pickup trucks?

Next time he was prepared, with a telescopic overlapping shield, but another new hero in orange showed up. This one could grow vines or tentacles or something, that wormed into his machinery and tore it apart from the inside. It was a slow process, he could probably find a way to counter it, if she didn’t also keep trying to punch him straight in the eyes. Every time he tried to focus, there she was. Peppy, orange, and going for the eyes.

The time after that it was a Toad. The time after that it was a Yoshi. Once it was a Beanish. Often, several of them were teaming up and stumbling over each other in their attempt to take him down. What ever happened to teamwork? What ever happened to fair play?

After a month of this, Bowser had enough. At least the green one was predictable. Bowser wasn’t exactly entirely one-hundred-percent sure he could defeat him in a fair fight, but he was sure he could defeat him in an un fair one. He’d done it once!

And that was where the watch came in. Months ago, Kamek had managed to synthesize one of those weird super crown things with their tech. Being able to take on the appearance of anyone who touched the thing was pretty useful, but once it was locked to one person it was locked. Alterations could be made, but not substitutions. With that limitation, on top of the cost to produce, it wasn’t a good enough product to bring to market.

Still, Bowser kept the one they’d tested on a random tourist. The guy had red hair and was as close to Bowser’s size as a human could get, so it made for a not-unbearable disguise whenever he needed to leave the lair. Infamy had its disadvantages and one of those was the inconvenience of doing grocery runs.

When he decided he needed to talk Super Green into being the city’s main hero, Bowser made a few more tweaks to the disguise’s clothing to suit his tastes and headed out into the city.

He’d been monitoring Super Green for a couple days (it wasn’t hard to find him, seriously, nobody in this city could figure out a damn secret identity), looking for the right opportunity to talk to him. And… none came. All the guy did was work and fight and sleep.

And he didn’t need to! There were almost a dozen new heroes in the city, all eager to prove themselves. Even without Bowser there were all kinds of hazardous animals and plants and other villains who sometimes popped up. Hell, even Bowser technically “protected the city” sometimes. Damn piranha plants kept growing through the cracked parts of the pavement in his neighborhood.

Then, when he checked the feed one last time before going to tuck Junior into bed, he saw Luigi leaving his apartment building with a bag of takeout. Bowser watched, curious, wondering why he was taking food out of his home.

If you gave him a thousand guesses, Bowser never would have landed on “to throw it at the statue of his brother.”

So he slapped on the watch and got over there as fast as he could. He didn’t have a gameplan, he just knew he would never get another opportunity like this.

When Bowser got back to the lair an hour later, Kamek was waiting for him. He took the watch once Bowser removed it and placed it carefully in the box near the door.

“How did it go, sir?”

“I think… okay?”

Bowser felt weird about the whole thing. He usually just intimidated people into doing what he wanted, unless they were related to him or - like Kamek - close enough. That wasn’t going to work with Super Green. But he figured getting on Green’s good side first would smooth the process, so he listened as much as he could handle and pretended to sympathize.

The stuff he didn’t actually sympathize with, anyway. Bowser knew what it was like to be busy. He knew what it was like to be overlooked.

Once, koopas were kings.

“I brought up the idea and he didn’t hate it,” Bowser said. “If he needs another push I’ll talk to him again.”

“Well done! How will you get in touch with him?”

“Oh, uh.”

“Did you get his phone number?”

“Um…”

“Or give him yours?”

“It. Kinda never came up.”

He saw Kamek hesitate before pasting on a fake smile. He’d known Kamek all his life, the little old bastard couldn’t get anything past him anymore. “Well, it’s still progress! Perhaps we could find him online. What fake name did you use?”

Bowser blinked, and groaned. “Dammit, I knew I forgot something!”

“You forgot the name?”

“I forgot to even come up with one.”

Kamek hesitated even longer this time.

“Don’t,” Bowser said.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Good. Don’t.”

He rubbed the back of his head. Hopefully this would be enough of a kick in the tail to move Luigi- Super Green to action and they wouldn’t have to meet up again. The evening had been… weird. The last thing Bowser needed was to start feeling sorry for the guy, the whole point of the plan was to get the heroes in a single-file line for defeat.

Besides, Bowser had already done enough to him.

“Something wrong, sir?”

“No, no, nothing.”

Bowser shook his head, as if he could drive away the memory of those weak little smiles and hurt blue eyes. Eyes that, only a month ago, had looked at him like they wanted to pound him into paste.

“It’s nothing,” Bowser said firmly.

And with that, he went upstairs to check on his son. Like any other night.

Chapter Text

Things had been awkward with Peach since Mario's “death.” Whatever made Mario decide to run away from his responsibilities apparently included not telling his girlfriend that he was still alive.

She'd been the one to comfort Luigi when he lost it, so she thought he was struggling more than she was, and was careful now not to let Luigi know just how much she was grieving. They talked around it, they avoided the topic. They both walked on eggshells for completely different reasons.

“I saw your report on Sunday,” Luigi said, after they exchanged stiff “how are you/fines.”

“Oh!” Peach perked up. “I didn't think you'd still be watching the news.”

Luigi tried not to flinch. He was still watching it regularly, but only because he didn't know what else to do with his time. Seeing people discuss the events of the day, all the things he couldn’t do, hurt more now. But every evening he would sit there with no one to talk to… and reach for the remote.

“Was that your own research or were you just presenting?”

“Mostly mine!” Peach said. “They're giving me interns now, but it's always the new ones who don't know anything.”

“That proves they trust you,” Luigi said.

Peach smiled at him. “I'm sure.”

She didn't sound sure. They both knew the only reason she made it this far was that she had an inside scoop with the city's biggest threat 

Luigi hadn't told her how much it stung that she'd decided to start working as a hero too. Maybe she thought she was taking some of the burden off him, but it felt like being told he wasn't enough. With her career still getting established she didn't have the time to run off every time there was an attack. It should have been easy to say he didn't need it, and she should focus on herself. But he couldn't manage. She meant well. Didn’t she?

“How's work for you?” Peach asked.

“Busy. Still busy. I like it that way,” he added, before Peach could say anything.

“Are you sure?” she asked anyway. “You're allowed to take time for yourself, you know.”

Was he? If Mario had believed that, would he still be here?

“It's fine,” Luigi said. “I've got to pay for everything by myself now, so the more jobs the better.”

Peach hesitated. He could practically see the mental debate playing out on her face. To help or not to help?

“And I'm not asking for money,” Luigi said.

“I wasn't- I know.”

He could keep up the apartment with their savings for at least a few months, and then he'd have to downgrade to something smaller. Or find a roommate, which wasn't practical for the same reason Luigi couldn't hire another plumber.

Just like everything else now, Luigi had to deal with this alone.

There was a long awkward silence, both of them pretending they were far more interested in their coffees than they were. One thing that Luigi had always appreciated about Peach - they had the same taste in food. Whenever she recommended a drink or a dessert, Luigi knew he'd like it too.

Before either of them could think of something else to say, the mugs decorating the back wall of the coffee shop started to rattle. A second later they felt the tremors coming up through the floor, but Luigi was already on his feet.

Peach stood too. “Do you want me to-”

“I've got this,” Luigi said.

“I can help.”

“Let me,” Luigi said. “Please.”

He didn't like the look of pity on her face, but at least it got Peach to nod and sit back down.

Nobody looked up as Luigi left the cafe. The tremors had been weak enough that people were debating whether it was a big truck or a small earthquake, but Luigi had enough experience with this to know the difference between movement of the earth and movement beneath it.

He ducked into the alleyway next to the cafe and dug a large coin out of his pocket. Luigi owed whoever had perfected the technology to merge mushroom powers with gadgets a huge debt, because nothing made this superhero stuff easier than not having to change. All Luigi had to do was slap the coin against his chest and the costume appeared over his regular clothes. They were single-use and not exactly cheap, but buying in bulk helped a lot.

And then he was Super Green, charging down the street toward the epicenter of the tremors.

The closer he got the more the pavement shuddered and buckled beneath his feet. Luigi had never been coordinated, but he was used to this now. He could even time it just right to hop over the thorny vine that burst from the ground and land on the relatively flat concrete on the other side. Okay, he immediately stumbled when he realized what he was looking at, but he could still feel cool for a second or two.

A giant piranha plant rose above the little island in the middle of the roundabout. It wasn’t the biggest Luigi had ever seen, but it came damn close. And it looked to be a colony of them, since more heads kept popping up and down out of manholes, sending the covers rolling into traffic.

Luckily traffic had already gotten the idea, though the pedestrians for some reason were taking longer. The sidewalks were full of people who didn’t seem to be in any hurry to run away. Maybe they wanted to watch and see what happened, or maybe they’d gotten complacent. Either way Luigi had to end this quickly before someone got hurt.

He couldn't use his powers with those vines snaking into the sewers. Who knew how far they reached, or if a hapless civilian was tangled up in them somewhere? It was times like this that he really missed Mario, whose powers were just as destructive but easier contained.

But Luigi was stronger and faster than most humans, faster than his brother even, and brute strength was enough to solve this particular crisis. He dodged around the vines, ducked under snapping jaws, and ripped the largest bloom from the middle of the plant.

The rest of the colony broke up, thankfully sticking aboveground where there was sunlight (and victims). Luigi took note of which vines fell limp and which ones retreated, and chased the active piranha plants down until he could pluck them too.

This at least was enough to convince the crowd to scatter. Only one plant escaped the main road, scrambling down a side street with damp roots trailing behind it. Luigi was so busy with the others that he'd almost missed it, but the trail of sewer muck was pretty distinct.

He heard shouting as he rounded the corner, a voice that for some reason made him stiffen up. It couldn't be-

But no, it was a human. Twice Luigi's size, but the piranha plant had pounced on the closest source of nutrients nonetheless. Luigi sprinted the last few yards to save whoever it was, and promptly tripped over himself when they ripped their way out of the restricting vines with their bare hands.

One of those hands pushed thick red hair out of their face, and Luigi finally recognized the man he'd met last week. The one who had listened to him vent and helped him avoid the cops.

For a second, something like panic crossed the man's face, then he glanced down at himself and back up at Luigi. He was wearing the same outfit as last time, same Bowser fanboy T-shirt. Did he feel bad about it now?

If he did, it didn't stop him from flashing Luigi a cocky grin.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Are you-”

The vines sprung up behind him, and this time Luigi didn't trip. He grabbed one in each hand and rolled away from a third, tangling them up enough that the plant would be distracted. A quick glance at the street confirmed there was no one else around, no puddles, and none of the vines were reaching into drains.

Luigi saw the man pick up the thick stem of the plant, as if about to yank it back, and shouted, “Get clear!”

He dropped it, and before anything else could get in the way, Luigi dug all ten fingers into the flesh of the closest vine and let loose.

Electricity surged through the piranha plant. The body jolted and writhed, and small lightning bolts flickered between the plant's open jaws. From the corner of his eye Luigi saw the man back up, but he knew the pavement would be enough to ground them. As long as he wasn't fool enough to touch the thing he'd be fine.

This was the problem with Luigi's power, and this was why he'd never be as flashy as his brother. While Mario could generate fire from his hands, Luigi made lightning. Neither one of them could control it once it was out of their bodies. When it came to taking out monsters and plants, electricity was more powerful, but just that meant it could hurt more people. Luigi had spent a long time studying what was conductive and what wasn't before he was comfortable using it in a fight at all.

Luigi dropped the limp vine onto the street, the plant now nothing but a pile of dead vegetable matter.

The man stared at him for a moment, lips slightly parted, but it was only a couple seconds before he collected himself. “That was badass. How come you're not always that cool?”

“I'm not cool,” Luigi said.

“But you could be,” the man said. He stuffed a hand in one of his pockets and stepped forward. “Listen-”

He paused, and so did Luigi. There was a hum of voices and movement coming up behind him, the sounds of a crowd. Now that the danger was over the citizens were coming to gawk. It sounded too disorganized to be the press, but that was even worse sometimes, the press at least had standards.

However, before Luigi could make a run for it, the man he’d been talking to appeared at his side and grabbed his hand.

“Thank you, Super Green!” the man exclaimed, his voice much too loud for how close he was.

“Oh, um. It was nothing.”

He was holding Luigi’s hand in both of his, so big that Luigi couldn’t even wrap his fingers around the palm. “You saved my life!”

“I did? I mean, it’s my duty.”

“If it wasn’t for you, my son would be an orphan.”

It definitely hadn’t been that dangerous, but Luigi couldn’t just ignore a statement like that. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” he said firmly.

The man grinned, and straightened up to look over Luigi’s head. “Let’s hear it for Super Green!”

The crowd, that Luigi had nearly forgotten, burst into cheers.

“C’mon, I can’t hear you!” the man exclaimed. He let go of Luigi’s hand and pumped his fist in the air, bringing out another round of cheering.

Luigi managed a smile and a wave, minding how many phones were currently out and filming, then flipped his cape the way Peach had shown him and took off running. The sounds of his name being chanted echoed behind him.

He hopped over a couple buildings and jogged another block until he was sure nobody could follow, then found another corner to duck into. Only then did he uncurl his fingers from the scrap of paper that man had stuffed into his palm.

It was a receipt, from the same cafe he’d been sitting at with Peach (which was a funny coincidence but it was only a couple blocks from where the piranha plants had popped up). And on the back, in pen that had pressed so hard it nearly tore the paper, was a phone number.

That evening Luigi watched the news again. It covered the plant fight, including some phone footage people had taken. There was even a shot of that man shaking Luigi’s hand, though his face was blurred which meant the show hadn’t managed to find him and ask permission.

The segment spent more time talking about the damage to the road and the sewers than the fight itself, and Luigi couldn’t help hearing the criticism. If he’d been faster, if he’d anticipated it, if he could somehow stop all this from happening in the first place…

But if he could he wouldn’t get credit for that either. Nobody would know he was doing anything at all. What was the point? Why was he thinking about this?

Luigi switched to a cooking show as soon as the news was over and sat there for a little longer, waiting.

It wasn’t likely, but he had to wait. He had to be sure.

Mario had only called twice since he left, both times on the landline, from a strange number that no one answered when Luigi tried to call back. Once, a couple days after his disappearance just to assure Luigi he was okay and explain what he’d done. Luigi had already decided to cover for him, arranging the “funeral” so that no one could look too closely at the body.

He’d yelled, on that first call, and he still regretted it. Mario was having a mental health crisis, so Luigi needed to be supportive above all else. It was the only way to possibly get him back.

The second call was a couple weeks later, Mario checking in and somehow sounding even worse than the first one. He wouldn’t tell Luigi where he was, but Luigi managed to get a promise to take care of himself and call if he needed anything. Money, food, laundry. Anything.

He hadn’t called since. But every evening, at the time those first two calls had come, Luigi made sure to be at home.

And now he was here, again, sitting on the couch alone like… like…

Like the lonely loser he was.

Luigi rubbed a hand across his face. There was plenty to do, there was always plenty to do - prepping for tomorrow, answering emails, working on the website, placing ads, storing more costumes in coins…

He heard the faint buzz of his cell phone, letting him know it had finished charging, and went to unplug it. Mario never remembered to do this. Did he even still have his cell phone, or had he gotten rid of it when he ran away? Did he throw it into the harbor like people did in movies?

The coffee receipt, phone number facing up, was sitting next to the landline. Luigi stared at it, at those hastily-scrawled numerals. That man was strong, even for his size, but if handwriting was an indicator of personality he was also intense .

Luigi could never really trust a Bowser fan, despite what he did the two times they’d met. Contacting him was a bad idea.

Throwing old food at Super Red’s statue had been a bad idea too. And look where it got him! Avoiding the cops and pouring his heart out to a stranger.

Who listened.

Luigi picked up his phone and carefully typed in the number and, before he could overthink it, sent a text.

it’s me.

The thought popped into his head that he wasn’t sure how many people the man gave his number to on a daily basis, so he also added a lightning bolt and a green circle emoji.

The reply didn’t come right away. Which made sense, of course it wouldn’t, it was evening and he already knew that man had a kid. He wouldn’t be sitting by the phone like a loser, like Luigi. So Luigi slipped it into his pocket to start cleaning up after dinner.

The cooking show played on in the background while Luigi plopped his dishes in the sink. Hey, he lived alone now, there was no one to judge him if he didn’t wash them right away. Except himself, who definitely would, so he knew he would have to do them before bed or he couldn’t sleep.

Luigi was debating whether dishes or laundry should come first when his phone buzzed, and immediately all housework was forgotten. He opened the message to see three, sent right in a row.

HEY

*hey

it’s you

Luigi smiled to himself and settled back down on the couch.

so what’s your name? he asked.

There was another long wait for the reply. He was just multitasking, Luigi told himself. It wasn’t that Luigi was being needy. If an hour of ranting the first time they met hadn’t turned this guy off, one perfectly normal question wasn’t going to either.

Bernie, the reply finally came.

For some reason that was a surprise. You don’t look like a Bernie, Luigi sent.

I look even less like a Bernard. take it up with my parents.
oh wait, you can’t, they're dead.

Luigi winced. sorry

make it up to me. tell me YOUR name.

Now that was a bad idea. But Luigi had already gone this far. If this man - Bernie - wanted to ruin him he’d gotten more than enough material that first night.

Luigi, he sent.

you drink, Luigi? the man replied. No reaction to learning a superhero’s name. Was that a good thing or not?

not really

coffee then?

are you asking me out?

do you want me to?

Yes, Luigi thought, but shook it away. Bad decisions were one thing, but he couldn’t afford to rush into a relationship right now. It would only hurt both of them.

can you talk now? can I call you? he sent.

Almost instantly, the phone began ringing in his hands. Luigi answered the call before he had caught his breath, and choked on his “Hello?”

“Hey.” Bernie’s voice sounded rougher over the phone. Was he a smoker? “So that was a no.”

“Um, yes. Sorry.” Luigi added quickly, “It’s not you!”

“Oh no, no, sure. Why would a superhero want a guy like me?” Luigi could hear him fighting off laughter. “I’m just cool and handsome and willing to help your career.”

“I- I’m sorry.” Luigi couldn’t help laughing in response. “It’s just, well, you’ve seen what a mess I am right now. I’m not looking to date anybody.”

“Yeah, I understand. Don’t worry about it, I just wanted to figure out where we stand. Friends?”

Luigi smiled and pulled his feet up to curl into the corner of the couch. “Friends.”

“Then I gotta ask you something, friend.”

“Do you?”

“Why don’t you use your powers more?” Bernie exclaimed. “They’re so cool!”

“They’re dangerous,” Luigi said.

“Danger is cool!”

“Do you have any idea how many things conduct electricity?” Luigi asked. “I do. I have to. People conduct electricity.”

“Well yeah, I figured.”

“I could kill someone if I’m not careful!”

“C’mon, that’s how tasers work, isn’t it? Can’t you keep it at taser levels?”

“Tasers can kill people!”

“Can they?” Bernie said. He sounded genuinely surprised. “Shit, I’ve been tased like, four times.”

“Well… only if you have a medical condition or it’s being used really wrong. But lots of people have medical conditions they don’t know about. I never want to be the cause of someone’s death, even by accident.”

There was a pause from the other end. “Yeah… I get that.”

“Can I ask you something?” Luigi said.

“Shoot.”

“Would you get in trouble with the other Bowser fanboys if they knew you were friends with me?”

A low chuckle came from the phone that made the back of Luigi’s skull tingle. “Oh, definitely.”

“Why do it, then?”

There was another pause, and an exhale. “Does there have to be a reason? Maybe I just like talking to you.”

Luigi could feel his face heating up, grateful this was happening over the phone.

“And I meant what I said before, you know. I think you should be the hero everyone remembers in this city.”

“I don’t know…” Luigi said. “I’m not even sure I want that. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“You’re going through a rough patch right now, but it’ll be easier once you’re actually getting the recognition you deserve.”

“The more scrutiny I get, the more criticism I’ll get.” Luigi sighed. “And there’s still that thing about how badly I beat up Bowser…”

Another pause, the longest one yet. “You… actually feel bad about that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Luigi admitted. “It’s scary, knowing I’m capable of that. And I don’t think he deserved it, he didn’t kill my brother.” Luigi nearly stumbled over his words. “On purpose.”

“Nobody blames you,” Bernie said.

Luigi smiled. “What do the Bowser fan forums have to say about it?”

“Oh, uh.” He heard Bernie blow air between his teeth. “They pretty much pretend it didn’t happen. Whenever anyone talks about that day, they treat it like Bowser won.”

Luigi’s laugh came out more bitter than he intended. “Of course.”

“You’re never gonna win those people over,” Bernie said. “They’re not worth wasting your time. There’s at least one person out of every hundred who is just an asshole for no reason and always will be.”

“You think one percent of the entire world is assholes?”

“I think I am low-balling that number.”

Luigi laughed again, but it felt better this time. “You’re a Bowser fan too.”

“So I know what I’m talking about!”

All Luigi could do was giggle.

“You can’t make it in life if you’re scared of criticism,” Bernie said. “But if you’re gonna be big, you need somebody to tell you that you’re doing amazing and everyone who says otherwise is an idiot.”

“Sounds more like a minion than a friend.”

“I’m no minion!” Bernie sounded a little offended.

“Or a sidekick.”

“I am not a sidekick,” he said, a hint of a growl to his voice.

Why did that make Luigi tingle too? He had to get a handle on this if he was actually going to be friends with Bernie.

“What are you, then?” Luigi asked.

There was another long pause, long enough this time that Luigi started to wonder if they’d lost connection. But he could hear breathing, and a faint snort.

“I am late for putting my son to bed,” Bernie said. “But I still want to meet up. Text me when you’ve got time this week?”

“I will,” Luigi said, actually feeling optimistic about it. If he didn’t have time, he would make some. You had to prioritize the important things in life or you would lose your mind.

Huh. He’d almost forgotten that.

“And, thank you Bernie.”

One last pause, but he could hear the smile in Bernie’s voice as he replied, “My pleasure, Luigi. My pleasure.”

Chapter Text

Bowser had heard it said that things that came too easily weren't satisfying. He'd never understood that. Considering how hard he'd had to work for everything he had today, Bowser would have loved if more of it was easy.

He put weeks, months, of work into projects sometimes, only for them to all come crashing down within an hour. Not to mention the flaming wreckage that was his love life… If hard work wasn’t enough to win someone over, what was the point of working hard?

And then, in two and a half conversations, Bowser won the trust of his late enemy’s brother. It felt… weird, somehow. It felt like cheating. And not like the fun kind of cheating, where you were smug about pulling one over on the competition. It felt like playing the game wrong.

Not that he was going to stop. Bowser had come this far, he certainly wasn’t going to throw away an opportunity that almost fell into his lap. So he saved Luigi’s number, did some more research for his role, and waited.

The research had been weird too. He couldn’t come up with a fake name, to start with, but they’d noted down the name of the tourist they’d copied with the watch, and that was good enough. A quick search of social media confirmed that he still didn’t live anywhere near the city, so there was no chance of Luigi running into him on the street. Problem solved.

Then there was the fanboy thing… Luigi had been right, Bowser did have fans. He’d looked up the websites after their first meeting, even joined a forum so he could see the locked conversations.

An hour later his account was banned. So he made a new one and tried again. That one was banned by morning. After a few days the longest he could get an account to last was six hours - though he probably wasn’t helping himself by naming several of them the same thing with slight spelling differences.

Between that and his usual work, the days passed quickly. Bowser almost forgot he was waiting to hear back from Luigi when he got a text, checked it, and went back to work. And then remembered and nearly dropped his phone in the rush to read it properly.

Coffee. Tomorrow.

Okay, okay, that was fine. The previous two and a half conversations had gone well. All Bowser had to do was stay in character and he’d make it through.

The cafe Luigi wanted to meet at was one he’d been to several times before. He’d met with Peach here the last time Bowser had been following him, and they’d both ordered sugary monstrosities that made Bowser’s teeth ache just to look at. Now, Bowser tried to pretend he wasn’t familiar with the menu, before joining Luigi at a tiny table that barely had room for both their drinks.

“So, it took you this long to get time off work?” Bowser said.

Luigi winced. Bowser had noticed it before, but the guy was way too sensitive. It was just a statement of fact but he looked like Bowser had insulted him to his face.

“You can just take time off whenever you want?” Luigi said, clearly trying to let it pass.

“I work from home,” Bowser said. “Not quite ‘whenever I want,’ but it’s pretty flexible, yeah.”

“What do you do?”

Here was what Bowser had been preparing for. Of course Luigi was going to want to know more about this guy he’d just met and spilled his guts to. Bowser needed to keep his story simple, as close to the truth as possible, so he wouldn’t slip up and say something that contradicted it.

“Engineering and I.T.,” he said.

“Oh,” Luigi said. Unfortunately he didn’t look any less interested. “I’m pretty good with machines. What kind of engineering?”

Crap, Bowser hadn’t thought that far. “I guess you would have to know about that stuff, since you’re an electric eel,” he said. “Like if you zap a car what happens to the motor?”

“Nothing, ideally,” Luigi said. “But cars have a lot more electric parts than people realize. Especially newer ones.”

Thank god he was easily distracted.

“Like with monitors and backup cameras and stuff,” Bowser nodded. “Or electric locks.”

“I have had to look up how to unlock a car when the electric locks get fried. More than once,” Luigi sighed.

“It’s amazing you can keep a cell phone running.”

“No, I’ve never had trouble with my powers going off by accident. It’s just what I told you about before, about the current traveling through things.”

“Right.” Suddenly Bowser was curious. When did the brothers develop their powers? What made them decide to be heroes? Hell, what made them decide to be plumbers of all things?

But asking like that would just make Luigi suspicious, so he had to hold back for now.

“I've been doing some reading,” Bowser said. “On like, how to grow your personal brand.”

Luigi's mouth twisted beneath his mustache. “Do you have to put it like that? It sounds so impersonal.”

“Yes, because it should be impersonal. Taking people's opinions of you as a superhero too seriously is just gonna make you worry all the time. People are idiots.”

“I know that,” Luigi said, looking sheepish.

“There's a difference between knowing and believing. Same way a lot of the civvies ‘know’ you're a real person, but deep down they still think of you as a service. Like the subway.”

“I do feel like the subway sometimes,” Luigi said, his shoulders drooping.

“So there you go,” Bowser said, leaning forward. “Think of it as an awareness campaign. You make people like the idea of you and they won't complain as much.”

“Like… the library?”

“Bingo,” Bowser said. “Nobody's out here ranting on the internet that the library runs too slow or has poor people in it.”

“Yes they are.”

“Okay, but a hell of a lot less than they do about the subway.” Bowser almost reached for his shell before remembering and fishing his phone out of his back pocket. “First step is social media. You've got some fan accounts but nothing official, or even pretending to be official. My kid says all the popular ones nowadays are video apps? I'm not really sure what to do there but I can keep reading. I’m also not sure he’s right, he’s six, but he said it with a lot of confidence.”

Luigi gave a wry sort of smile. “You've put a lot of thought into this.”

“Sure have. I almost spent money on some guy's ‘influencer course,’ but I realized nobody would actually teach somebody else how to replace them.”

“I guess I should thank you?” Luigi said, sounding unsure.

Uh-oh, Bowser had fucked up already.

“No,” he said quickly. Stay in character, stay in character, what would a goody two-shoes do in this situation? “I'm sorry, forget all that. How are you? How's your day?”

That got a more relaxed smile. “Better now,” Luigi said.

“Flirt,” Bowser replied, and Luigi laughed, his ears turning a little red.

They'd said they would just be friends, was this pushing it? But Luigi seemed to like it, so… maybe in moderation.

Had Bowser ever done something in moderation?

Luigi talked for a while about his day job, and Bowser nodded along. He wasn't listening, at first, but enough got through that he started to recognize some familiar terms.

“It's not that different,” he blurted.

“What's not?” Luigi asked.

“What you do and what I do. It's still dealing with clients and deadlines and shit. Uh, more literal in your case, but still.”

“I’m sure it is,” Luigi laughed a little. “Customers are always the same. So is shit.”

Bowser laughed too. He was startled to realize it was genuine. Hearing swear words out of that innocent little face still threw him off…

They talked for a while longer, and Bowser couldn’t find a good opening to get back to the public relations things. But it wasn’t a loss, he refused to think of it that way. Small steps were better than no steps. Once he completely had Luigi’s trust, then he could strike.

The next week they met up, coffee again, a safe neutral space. Bowser had already been trying to think of ways to naturally turn the conversation the ways he wanted it, but he was flanked by Luigi immediately showing him a social media page.

“The fan accounts already took the good names," he said, sheepishly. “So I ended up with itsmesupergreen.”

“I love it,” Bowser said, again taken by surprise by his own honesty. “Suits you.”

“I haven’t been sure what to post… It’s mostly been daily affirmations and anything neat I see outside. I make sure to delay everything by a few hours though, so no one can track me.”

“Smart, smart,” Bowser said, filing that one away to teach Junior. “Not too many followers yet,” he noted.

“I know. I told you I’m not popular.”

“If you weren’t popular there wouldn't be fan accounts." Bowser pulled out his own phone and brought up the site. It wasn’t one he’d used before, but it wouldn’t take long to make a fake profile for this face. “Let’s see… supergreen, supergreenofficial… Wait, is this one just devoted to pictures of your ass?”

Luigi flushed red and immediately tried to lean across the table and swipe his phone. “It’s gotta be a joke.”

Even in this disguise Bowser was way too tall for Luigi to stand a chance against his arm length. All he had to do was hold the phone up at eye level. “No way, this is detailed. Nobody puts this much effort into something that doesn’t do it for them.”

Despite the distance, Luigi hadn’t given up. Even the cafe staff was starting to glance in their direction. “Okay, well, there are perverts on the internet. That’s not news.”

“Some of these are screengrabs from the news,” Bowser said, scrolling and pretending he couldn’t see Luigi flailing across from him. “But some look like cell phone shots. Do they have a team of fans sending these in?”

“I really don’t think that many people are interested in my backside!” Luigi’s hand slipped and Bowser reached out to catch his elbow before he fell out of his chair. He barely had to take his eyes off the screen.

“No,” Bowser said, “some of these are from the front.”

Still blushing, Luigi settled himself back in his seat. “How did you do that?”

“Dad instincts,” Bowser said. “You get sort of a sixth sense for it.”

“You’re not going to, um, follow that account are you?”

“No,” he said, but only because he still needed to set up his fake one. “They only have like five good shots that they keep recycling, the rest are blurry.”

Luigi, redder than Bowser’s hair, mumbled something to himself in that language he spoke with his brother sometimes. They had faint accents, but Bowser had never found out where they were originally from.

“Swearing’s better in your mother tongue, huh?” Bowser said.

“Much,” Luigi hissed. He glanced around the room, at all the people pretending they hadn’t just seen two grown men scuffling like children, and pulled his half-empty cup a little closer. “Can we get out of here?”

“Sure,” Bowser said. He didn’t really care about his reputation (in general but specifically not in this disguise) but he still had to be careful with Luigi.

He chugged the rest of his drink instead of bringing it along, and when he wiped his mouth and looked down he saw Luigi staring at him with an expression he couldn’t figure out.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Luigi said quickly, pulling his eyes away. “Um. Let’s go.”

They were halfway down the block, walking nowhere in particular, before it clicked that Bowser might have gone too far back there.

“Sorry,” he said. Apologizing this often made him feel like a wimp, but he had to keep up the act. Stay in character, stay in character. “Was that too mean? You’re fun to tease.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Luigi said, shaking his head. He was walking ahead of Bowser, and didn’t turn around to answer. Bowser could see his ears were still pink. “It’s just still a little hard for me to relax, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry for that. I’ll try to take it easy.” He should have been in the first place. Why did he keep letting his guard slip?

“I want to keep hanging out with you,” Luigi said. He stopped at the corner and half-turned to look up at Bowser. “I get anxious really easily, and I don’t have my brother to reassure me anymore… I’m worried I’m going to bother you.”

“You’re not a bother,” Bowser said. He put his hand on Luigi’s shoulder, startled again by how small it looked in comparison to what he was used to. In his real form he could pick Luigi up with just this one hand…

Luigi was staring at the hand too, and Bowser snatched it back. “Uh. It must be hard, anyway. Nobody expects you to be back to one hundred percent so soon after what happened.”

Luigi nodded. “I’m the only one who thinks I should get over it. I know.”

“Yeah sounds like your brain is a liar.”

He finally laughed again. “It really is.”

The light changed and they kept walking, again without discussing a destination. Bowser ran through his list of conversation topics and all he could come up with were questions.

“Is it okay if I ask… Are your parents still around? How did they take it?”

They were walking side-by-side now, and Bowser saw Luigi’s expression fade. It was like he was locking away his emotions.

Not a good sign. Better file this one in the Do Not Touch drawer.

“We don’t talk to them,” Luigi said after a pause to compose himself. “Not for a while.”

“Oh, uh. I’m gonna assume there’s a good reason for that and mind my business.”

Luigi gave one of his brief, forced, smiles. “I’d tell you, but it’s going to sound silly since your parents are…”

“It won’t sound silly,” Bowser said. “Believe me, I don’t think you owe somebody something just because they’re related to you. I got a handful of cousins who keep wanting me to give their kids jobs.”

Another flash of a smile. “They just… Nothing was ever good enough for them. Not ever. When we got our powers we knew they wouldn’t approve of whatever we decided, so we just packed up and moved.”

That explained some things. No wonder the brothers were so close.

“Mario always tried to protect me,” Luigi said, absently. “I used to think he was just a natural hero, but now-”

Bowser reached over and covered Luigi’s mouth with his hand. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it. Your brain’s a liar, remember?”

He felt Luigi smile, but it was gone when he pulled his hand away.

“Do you have any other ideas for um, ‘growing my brand’?” Luigi asked.

Bowser almost tripped over his feet. What kind of luck was this? Where was it the rest of his life?

“A couple,” he said, trying to play it cool (and failing, judging from Luigi’s smirk). He had to hold himself back from whipping out a list.

“Tell me,” Luigi said.

For the rest of their walk, Bowser did.

Luigi didn’t call the next week, though they’d both started texting each other more. Bowser got around to making a fake social media account and followed it’smesupergreen, as well as a few others to hide how fake it was. He tried to follow a couple Bowser fan accounts, only to run into the same problems as the forums and unfollow within a day.

Not the one that was horny for him, though. That one could stay.

Finally, on a Monday, Luigi texted asking if he could call again. Bowser, again, took initiative and called first.

To his surprise, Luigi started with, “Do you want to see a movie?”

“Huh? I guess so. Was there one you-” Bowser remembered back, weeks ago now, at the first conversation they’d had with him wearing the watch. “Oh right, you said you never have time for that anymore.”

There was a breathy huff. “You remember… Yeah, um, I can make time if I try. For the important things.”

Bowser found himself smiling. “Seeing a movie is that important?”

“Doing things for myself is important,” Luigi said firmly. “I think I was trying to drown myself in work on purpose, without realizing it. But that’s not healthy, so… when are you free?”

“For you? Anytime.”

Another huff, this one unmistakably laughter. “What kind of movie do you like?”

“You haven’t even picked one out? I don’t know what’s playing.”

“Well I didn't know what you liked,” Luigi said, a little defensive.

“I'll watch anything that isn't a kids movie right now,” Bowser said. “It's too bad there aren't any movies where the villain wins, but I'll take what I can get.”

This time it was a full chuckle. “I think the villain wins in a lot of horror movies. But it's hard to know ahead of time unless you want to spoil the whole thing.”

“Any horror movies playing?” Bowser asked.

“Oh. Um. Probably, I- I can look.” There was hesitation in his voice.

“Don't like scary movies?”

“I'm not the biggest fan, no,” Luigi admitted. “Okay, I'm looking… There's a couple remakes, a couple sequels, a biopic… and two kids movies. That are also sequels.”

Bowser put a hand against his face and groaned.

“If you don't want to…”

He couldn't say no. Luigi trusted him enough to reach out for a social activity, Bowser couldn't just refuse because he didn't like any of the movies. A couple hours of boredom was preferable to setting back his work.

“No, I want to,” Bowser lied. He brought up a list of current movies on his work station to find the least-bad one. “I'm just thinking, maybe Bowser should take over Hollywood instead of this city.”

Luigi laughed, long and loud. It was nasal, but surprisingly pleasant to listen to.

“Here we go,” Bowser said, spotting one of the remakes. Or sequels, it wasn't clear. “Disaster movie. I'm up for seeing some buildings get sucked into a tornado.”

“Sounds good,” Luigi said. “I'll get the tickets. Is there a time you-”

“I wanna see a movie!”

Bowser hadn't even heard the door open, but suddenly his son was crawling over the back of his custom-built desk chair.

“Junior! I'm on the phone.” This was far from the first time he's had to remind the kid that phone calls were serious. It wasn't even the first call with Luigi he'd tried to interrupt, though Bowser always managed to catch him before.

“I wanna see a movie!” Junior repeated. “I wanna see a disaster!” As Bowser tried to scoop him off the chair, Junior latched on to his arm and bit his hand.

“Ow! What did we say about biting?”

“It doesn't hurt!” Junior protested, held at arm's length.

“It doesn't hurt me, but that doesn't mean-” Abruptly, Bowser remembered the phone still clutched in his hand. He pressed it to his ear and hissed, “I'll call you back.”

“It's okay,” Luigi said, laughter in his voice. “Do you care what time I get the tickets for?”

“No, anything's good.” That wasn't true, but he could make it work. This plan was more important than anything else right now.

Anything but the little guy squirming at the end of his arm, that is.

They exchanged quick goodbyes, and Bowser made extra sure the call was disconnected before he finally let Junior go and sunk back into his chair.

Within seconds his son had climbed into his lap. “Why can't I go to the movies with you?”

“You know why,” Bowser said. They'd talked it over a dozen times. “You can't be seen with me outside. If anybody knows you're my son, you'll be in as much trouble as I am.”

“But I am your son. An’ Kamek says I look just like you anyway.”

“By the time you're grown I'll be ruling the city, and maybe more. We won't have any problems then.”

“But you're going to the movie with somebody else! Are they gonna be in trouble?”

“Yes,” Bowser said, flatly.

“Oh.” Junior sat for a moment, swinging his feet. “Well… can we have popcorn tonight?”

Bowser gave him a quick squeeze. “Sure, bud. Popcorn sounds nice.”

He met up with Luigi the next day, late evening, the sky fully dark and all the buildings lit up. Bowser had already made sure Junior ate dinner and got a (probably pointless) promise to be good for Kamek, and he hoped (also probably pointlessly) that Luigi wouldn’t bring it up.

They got snacks, which Bowser wasn’t used to. He usually snuck in his own back when he was younger, when he could do things like this without a disguise. But Luigi said it was important to support the business so Bowser ponied up the cash. He refused to let Luigi pay. Both to get him in his debt, and, hey, Luigi bought the tickets.

As soon as they were in the theater Bowser led the way to the very back row. He noticed Luigi hesitating near the middle, and grabbed his arm to tug him along. It was only once they were past most of the other movie-goers that he leaned down to explain.

“I'm too tall. People always try to start shit unless I sit all the way in back.”

“Oh,” Luigi said.

“I'd win, but I don't want you to miss any of the movie.”

“The seats are slanted, is it really that bad? Can't you just not sit right in front of anyone?”

“I've learned from experience, believe me,” Bowser said. “But we'll make sure nobody's right in front of you.”

He had forgotten to consider Luigi's height until he said it. Humans were all so small compared to him, Bowser wasn't actually sure whether Luigi was short or around average. He was taller than Mario at least.

The movie had been out for long enough that the theater wasn't packed. They managed to find seats pretty close to the middle where Luigi's view wouldn't be blocked. Bowser settled in to watch the trailers thinking that this might be a nice evening.

Wait, why did that matter?

It was, in spite of his hesitation. The movie was all right, Bowser only got shushed twice, and Luigi turned out to know a lot about property damage from both his jobs. They spent the credits whispering to each other about how much everything would cost to repair. It felt like a normal night out with a friend.

And if that made Bowser feel unsettled, he could at least hide it until he got home.

Afterward, walking to the subway, Luigi brought up the thing Bowser had hoped he forgot about.

“You know… if you ever wanted to take your son to the movies, I wouldn't mind coming along.”

Bowser had braced himself for questions, but he wasn't expecting that. “Really?”

“Sure. I don't mind kids movies.”

“You would if you had to watch the same one three hundred times in six months.”

Luigi laughed. “Maybe I would. He's in that phase, huh?”

“I've tried to at least steer him towards ones without songs, but no go.”

“If you take him to see new ones, maybe he'd switch focus more often?”

“It's… not that simple.” Number one rule of lying: keep it as close to the truth as possible. “Junior doesn't do well in movie theaters. He can't even sit still for a meal, much less two hours in the dark.”

“That must be tough,” Luigi said. He sounded careful, for some reason.

“I'm used to it. Kamek - the guy who raised me after my parents died - he says I was the exact same way.”

“Oh!” Luigi brightened. “I was wondering about that. You never mentioned a partner, but he's helping you raise your son?”

“Yeah, he uh… he's stuck by me, no matter what.”

“That's really nice,” Luigi said warmly.

“I guess.” Bowser was starting to feel uncomfortable. He'd always been careful about names when he went on rampages, right? Luigi wouldn't recognize it? “It's hard on him too though. We couldn't get Junior into any daycares, and it's getting really close to the school year and we still haven't found one. They keep saying they can't ‘accommodate his needs,’ whatever the hell that means.”

Luigi was frowning. “That's not right. There's plenty of public schools in the city, they can't just not take him.”

“There's still a couple to try. They keep passing the buck to each other.”

“Have you gotten him diagnosed?” Luigi asked. “If you've got it written down, you can at least take your complaints to the school department.”

“Diagnosed?” Bowser repeated, feeling heat start to stir in his chest.

“You said he can't sit still, so I just thought-”

“He's a kid,” Bowser said. “He's six. He's just high energy.”

“I didn't mean anything by it.”

“There's nothing wrong with my son.”

“I didn't mean that,” Luigi said. His voice was calm even as Bowser's was rising. “There isn't anything wrong with having ADHD or anything either, it's just another way to be.”

“He’s fine!” Bowser snapped. “I was the same way, and I'm fine! I don't have any trouble concentrating.”

“It doesn't always mean that,” Luigi said. “And maybe you don't think you have trouble, but only because you've got nothing to compare it to. I tried to tell my parents how miserable I was when I was younger, and they just said everyone feels that way and I needed to toughen up.”

“That's different,” Bowser said. “You were struggling. I was fine!”

“Okay,” Luigi said, softly. 

“I didn't need to be fixed, and neither does my son! It was everyone else who kept telling me I was too loud, too aggressive, that I was scaring everyone I tried to make friends with!” He gritted his teeth. The anger was always there, like a breeze, but now it was swirling into a funnel cloud. “I don't need to make myself small for anybody!”

“Okay,” Luigi said again.

He wasn't cowering, like Bowser was used to, or getting mad back like his brother had when they clashed. Luigi was looking up at him just like he always did, something soft and warm in his eyes…

It was more than just heat rising in Bowser's throat, and he clapped a hand to his mouth and turned away before any smoke could escape. If Luigi saw that he'd know “Bernie” wasn't human, and all his work would have gone to waste.

Bowser felt a small warm hand touch his arm, and jerked away.

“I'm sorry that you were made to feel like that,” Luigi said. “It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.”

“I know,” Bowser choked out. “I'm-” He could barely manage the word. Why was it harder to say when he actually meant it? “Sorry. I'm not mad at you.”

“I know,” Luigi said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Bowser said firmly. What he wanted was to destroy the memories of everyone he ever went to school with, but he hadn't figured out the technology for that yet.

“Okay. Can I say one more thing?”

Bowser swallowed, to be safe, before he turned around and met Luigi's eyes. There was still that weird look. Was it pity? Compassion? He didn't want to see either.

“Fine.”

Luigi hesitated for a second, putting thought into his words. “Don’t you want your son to have it easier than you did?”

It wasn't what Bowser expected to hear. Of course he did, that was half the point of taking over the city. But he'd never thought about the smaller scale, about trying to get him accommodations or…

“Yeah,” Bowser said. “I do.”

Luigi nodded, and offered up a small smile. Bowser tried to smile back but he couldn't even manage a fake one.

“I'm. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Luigi said. “Do… do you want a hug?”

Hell. It might actually help.

Bowser hadn’t been sure if he’d hear from Luigi again after that. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been dropped like a hot brick just because he’d lost his temper once. But Luigi kept texting him, just like before, like nothing had happened.

The guy really was too damn nice. If Bowser hadn’t gotten to him first, he didn’t know what kind of person would have swooped in to take advantage of Luigi’s weakness. In a way, Bowser was helping him. Build him up, defeat him, fairly, and let him leave the superhero business to live a normal life. It was for the best.

It must have been obvious Bowser was feeling unsettled, because Kamek kept coming to the lab to check on him the next day. Bowser said he was fine over and over until he resorted to yelling it, which didn’t help his case, but did get Kamek off his back. For now.

And he was fine. Really! The plan with Luigi was progressing, that was all that mattered. The movie hadn’t even been a total waste of time, because it got gears turning in his head for the next product launch.

There was a repeat client that always wanted a “heat ray,” no matter how many times Bowser explained that heat wasn't something that could be focused in ray form. But a blast of superheated air would accomplish much the same thing and be almost invisible. The only problem was it wouldn't require any of Bowser's proprietary tech - anybody could make it if they understood the principles. So Bowser would have to introduce it in a flashy enough way that he got plenty of orders before somebody else sniped the idea.

A few days of testing and Bowser slapped the hot air gun (that was going to need a better name) into a cloud car and headed out. Tuesdays were the best day for bank heists, in his experience. The cash would still be stocked up from the weekend but the tellers wouldn't be as alert as a Monday. The hot air gun shattered the glass in the doors seconds before Bowser and his team smashed through the rest and locked down the lobby in seconds.

The staff and the customers had ducked behind furniture and each other as soon as they heard the glass break, but Bowser had tapped the cameras beforehand and knew no one was in range. Now, he left two of his beefiest minions in charge and led the others into the back.

“Mike and Kurtis, hit the ATM. Steve and Justin, find the cashbox for the tellers. The rest of you with me to raid the safety deposit vault.”

“Names, boss!”

“The cameras don't have sound, I know my damn business Adrien.”

“Sorry.”

He'd uncoupled the hot air gun from the cloud car in order to get more footage showing it off, but the thing wasn't shaped right to sit on his shoulder, so Bowser was carrying it at his hip like a gatling gun. With that and his spikes, every time Bowser turned around he gouged another hole in the walls.

“When I take over the city, first ruling is to expand all the buildings by at least ten percent.”

“Good idea boss!”

“Shut up Adrien.”

“You got it boss!”

They’d done this dozens of times before. Not this specific bank, not this specific team, but the strategy didn’t change. Luckily they didn’t actually need the money this time, it was just marketing, but getting away with some cash certainly wouldn’t hurt. In, out, no getting sidetracked.

The hot air gun made quick work of the alarm panel on the vault, and the minions started wailing on the hinges. It was funny how much brute force could circumvent even the most up-to-date technology. All it took most of the time was a hammer and a crowbar.

Of course, every time Bowser started to feel smug lately somebody showed up to rub his face in it. He could hear Mike and Kurtis crying out a warning from the front of the building and braced the hot air gun against his side to take whichever hero showed up this time by surprise.

Somehow, he had not been expecting Luigi.

He felt his face break into a grin. “Missed you, Greenie!” He aimed the hot air gun just above Luigi’s head. “Won’t miss this time.”

That was enough of a warning that Luigi dodged easily, barrelling down the hall. He threw himself against the wall to avoid Bowser’s next shot, and Bowser saw him glance at one of the gouges his spikes had left, before ripping off a glove and reaching inside.

“Hey!” There was a spark, and the alarm started blaring, Luigi closing the circuit that Bowser had fried. “Was that necessary?” Bowser said, rubbing his ear. “They’re already on their way.”

“You think I’m here to make things easier on you?” Luigi snapped.

He looked… really angry. Really angry. Bowser hadn’t seen him like this since-

Ah. Right. He’d almost forgotten. Bowser got so used to Luigi being happy to see him that it had slipped his mind.

“Keep going,” Bowser muttered to the minions.

“Don’t you dare!” Luigi exclaimed. It was tight enough back here that even the alarm couldn’t cover his voice.

Of course they ignored him, and Bowser took advantage of the close quarters to jut his elbows out and block the way. He gave a quick burst of the hot air gun to remind Luigi of who was in control of this situation.

“You know what else is in these walls?” Luigi asked, his voice low. “What these wires connect to?”

“What- You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Luigi smiled. Well, he bared his teeth at least. “I don’t have a lot to lose anymore.”

He hand shoved into the wall again and he grabbed a fistful of wires. They could have been for the alarm, they could have been for the heating system, they could have been for the electronic lock in the vault door. If Luigi’s current went into those wires, it could, possibly, travel all the way through to the minions currently prying that door open with crowbars.

Luigi wouldn't. He wouldn't. But Bowser couldn't take the risk.

He dropped the hot air gun and went in with fists. Luigi met him with the same, hopping around and taking advantage of the fact that Bowser could barely move in here. The little bastard got him hard in the eye and once in the jaw, then dropped and slid between his legs. Bowser managed to smack him with his tail before Luigi could get too far, but by the time he’d turned around Luigi was halfway to the vault and dragging the hot air gun.

“Drop it!” Bowser exclaimed.

“Sure,” Luigi said, with another one of those rictus grins. He hefted the gun in his hands, both bare, and Bowser saw that little furrow that appeared between his eyebrows when he was concentrating.

He was about to use his powers.

“Don’t!”

Bowser threw himself down the hall nearly as fast as he had when Junior pulled a kettle off the stove last year, and grabbed Luigi’s bare hand.

“It has a heating coil, you idiot! It’ll explode! You want to die?”

“What do you care?” Luigi asked, with a laugh that sounded half-dead already. “Save you the trouble, won't it?”

It felt like a chunk of ice dropped into his stomach. Bowser nearly released his grip, but when he felt Luigi start to pull away he only tightened it.

Luigi laughed again, cold and mirthless. Bowser hadn’t even known he could sound like this.

“You actually feel bad, don’t you?” Luigi said, like it was a surprise. “I knew you didn’t mean to do it, but… wow.”

“Is it that hard to believe?” Bowser muttered.

“You do this - all of this - and you expect me to think you care if you hurt people?”

There was that ice again. Bowser was almost getting nauseous. Of course it made sense, but to hear it from Luigi… Those big blue eyes were staring straight into his, with absolutely none of the warmth and softness Bowser was used to. Nothing in there but cold fury.

Luigi hated him.

Luigi hated him.

Bowser let go of the gun. “Pack it up, we’re leaving,” he said, raising his voice so the minions would hear him over the still-blaring alarms.

“Are you sure boss? We didn’t get any-”

"Now. God, you- We are having a talk when we get back to the lair.”

“Aw…”

The minions dodged carefully around Luigi, still standing there with Bowser’s prototype. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Bowser’s face, but at least now he looked more confused than angry.

“You won, all right? We’re leaving.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Congrats.” He grabbed the gun and pulled it out of Luigi’s grip while he was too surprised to react. “Takin’ this though. Can’t trust you with it.”

“I didn’t want it! I don’t want anything of yours.”

“Your loss.”

Luigi wasn’t moving, so Bowser had no choice but to physically push him aside to get past. He wasn’t sure why Luigi let him, but he stood there in the torn-up hallway and allowed Bowser and his troop to leave with no more fighting.

As Bowser turned the corner he saw Luigi looking almost as lost as he felt.

Mike and Kurtis had been caught by Luigi on the way in, but they weren’t given more than a few bruises before Luigi moved on, so when they all reconvened at the lair they’d made off with several stacks of bills. Steven and Justin had managed to hide in the lobby and hadn’t been caught at all, but the teller’s cashbox had a dye pack so most of it was ruined. Wasn’t their fault, everything happened too fast. If this job was for money Bowser would have made sure to remind them beforehand.

As usual, Bowser distributed a percentage of the take to all the minions after the briefing. He gave Adrien a lecture on communication protocol, checked the equipment over for damage, then headed back upstairs to the house.

Kamek could tell something was wrong. Bowser ignored him.

It wasn’t until he’d tucked Junior into bed and headed to his own room for the night that Bowser thought to check his other cell phone. No phones on a mission, that was rule number one, and he couldn’t defy the rules just because he was the boss.

Okay, he could, but if he did the minions would start thinking it was okay as long as they didn’t get caught. And they always got caught.

As soon as he picked it up there was a text on the screen. Luigi, almost an hour ago.

I lost my temper today. can I call you?

Bowser stared at the message for a long time. Here was Luigi, who only that afternoon had socked him in the face, reaching out to him for emotional support. It would have been funny if Bowser didn’t actually care.

But he did. He had to admit it now, alone, with no one to put up a front for.

Bowser cared about Luigi. And Luigi hated him.

He sunk into his desk chair, looking at his own reflection in the dark computer monitor. If Luigi knew what he’d done, that his “friend” was his worst enemy… Bowser might actually end up dead. And he couldn’t even blame him, he’d have it coming.

Ah, that was what this feeling was. He hadn’t felt it in so long that he forgot.

It was guilt.

Almost twenty minutes passed before Bowser could finally pick up the phone and reply.

sorry work was crazy. wat’s up?

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand the problem.”

The coffee shop still felt awkward after last time, so Luigi had suggested he and Bernie meet up at the park and walk around. But Bernie showed up with coffee, both their usual orders in to-go cups, no shame whatsoever. He was… refreshing like that.

Luigi had given him a brief summary of what happened with Bowser in the bank, and Bernie just shrugged it off.

“I hurt his feelings,” Luigi said.

“He’s a grown man, he can take it.”

“That’s not it,” Luigi said. He’d come here to admit it, but it was still hard to say out loud. “I did it on purpose. I said what I said because I knew it would hurt him.”

There was no reply for a few seconds, so Luigi glanced up to see if Bernie was… disgusted, or angry, or what. Unfortunately he still couldn’t tell, Bernie had turned his face slightly and at their height difference that was enough to hide his expression. After a moment, he muttered, “That makes sense.”

“It does?”

Bernie cleared his throat, and went back to his usual (loud) volume. “You’re lashing out. That’s not the type of person you are, so I get why you feel bad about it, but you gotta remember you’re still grieving. Being petty at the person who’s responsible is a hell of a lot better than most people would do.”

“Right… yeah. Grief would explain it.”

He wasn’t grieving. Not exactly. It was probably similar; he was still missing a loved one and a severed connection, but it felt wrong to think about it that way when - for all he knew - Mario was alive and well. Especially since Bernie was walking next to him, sharing things he’d learned as a kid when he was grieving.

“Thank you for that, but I don’t want to keep doing it,” Luigi said. “Maybe I’ll look into anger management techniques.”

Bernie rolled his eyes. “Like those work.”

“I mean, not every strategy is going to work for every person.”

“I've been through about twenty of them. Trust me, they don't work.”

Luigi blinked. “Really? You don't seem like an angry person.”

“Thank you. I am trying really hard.”

“You are? Have I made you angry before?”

“Lots of things make me angry,” Bernie said, waving his free hand in the air. “With you, I choke it back because I want you to like me.” He raised his coffee cup in Luigi's direction, as if toasting him. “So there you go. I'm a fake.”

There was a strain to his voice. Like he was bracing himself, like he thought this revelation would end their friendship right then and there.

“But that's… normal,” Luigi said. “That is anger management.”

“What.”

“Did you not know that?”

“It's normal?” Bernie exclaimed. “You telling me everybody walks around just pretending they're not pissed off?”

“Everybody’s different, but, sort of? Like, if the barista messes up your order and that makes you mad, you still have to be polite or you're the asshole.”

“I'm not gonna be an asshole to the barista,” Bernie huffed. “They're usually like nineteen.”

Luigi smiled up at him. “That's because you're a good person.”

He'd suspected before, but Bernie's reaction only proved it. He was big, he was loud, he was hot-tempered, and at some point in his life he'd gotten it in his head that this made him the bad guy. Maybe he'd been made to feel that way, maybe he had always identified more with villains and didn't know why. But all it took was one compliment about his character and he was blushing all the way to his roots.

“But if you feel like you want improvement, do you want me to send you any good websites or whatever I find?”

“I can't stop you,” Bernie said, still flushed. “It won't help though. All that taking a breath and counting to ten bullshit - I was always just as angry afterward and pissed off that I had to do that.”

“It'll probably feel that way for a while,” Luigi said. “For a long time, even. But it's not about counting to ten, it's about training yourself.”

“Like a dog?” Bernie snorted.

“More like an athlete! The more you do something, the easier it gets. At first you'll have to stop and force yourself to think before you react in anger, and it's going to be really hard, and you'll probably be miserable. But it'll get easier, and easier, and eventually you won't have to think about it at all.”

Bernie was staring at him, eyes wide. “How the hell do you know all that?”

“Oh, my uncle Luigi had to do six months of court-ordered anger management after a road rage incident, and he talked about it a lot.”

“What?”

“It was supposed to be three months but he failed the first time.”

“No, not that. Your uncle's name was also Luigi?”

Luigi laughed. “That's nothing, our grandpa was named Mario so there were like six of them in our generation.”

Bernie shook his head. “That doesn’t get confusing?”

“You named your son after yourself, you have no room to judge.”

“That’s one generation! I’m not great at names, and his mom wasn’t-” Bernie cut himself off abruptly. “Nevermind, not important. So how are you aside from feeling guilty for no good reason?” Bernie asked, changing the subject.

Luigi smiled and decided not to push it. “Fine. I’ve cut back on work a lot.”

“That's good.”

“How are you?”

“Y'know. The usual. Working on an order for a needy client.”

“What is it?”

“Uh… heat… sink. For a computer.”

“Must be a big one,” Luigi said.

“Mm-hmm,” Bernie said, absently. “Well he's an idiot. I keep telling him, what I make will do what he wants, but I can't make it the way he wants. And he keeps trying to put in new orders like there's a loophole he'll be able to find if he keeps trying.”

“If he doesn't understand the mechanics, can't you just lie to him?”

Bernie let out a bark of laughter. “I keep forgetting you can be so devious. You’re too cute, it feels wrong.”

“Is the problem with the technology or with his understanding of it?”

“He wants it flashy. I can do flash or I can do function, not both.”

Luigi nodded. “I don't see why a heat sink would need to be flashy.”

“Nah, I get that part. But in this case it's not gonna work.”

“When most people want to show off their computer, don't they just make it see-through and add lights?”

“Yeah, but-” Bertie stopped. “That's… not a bad idea, actually.” He grinned, and slapped Luigi hard on the back. “I knew there was a reason to keep you around.”

Luigi laughed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Means I like you, Greenie. Get used to it.”

He smiled into his empty cup. That was going to be far too easy.

The phone rang halfway through the news, and Luigi was annoyed for a split second before he remembered he was waiting for that. He nearly tripped over himself in his rush to reach the landline, and did fumble the handset before he could get it to his ear.

It might not be him, Luigi reminded himself. It could be someone who didn’t read the ad properly, calling outside of business hours. Don’t get too excited or you’ll only be disappointed later.

“Hello?” Luigi said.

His brother’s voice replied, “Hi.”

Luigi slumped against the wall, boneless with relief. “Hi, Mario. It’s really you?”

“It’s me,” Mario said. He sounded rough, like he was sick. Luigi wasn’t sure if he wanted that to be true or not.

“How- how are you?”

“The same,” Mario said. “Still a piece of garbage. Thanks for asking.”

Luigi grit his teeth. “That's not what I meant. I haven't heard from you in so long, I didn't know if… If I ever would again. You know?”

“I know,” Mario said. “It's just… it's hard to do anything. I put it off all day and then it feels like it's too late.”

“I understand.” Now more than ever. “But it’s never too late. Nothing is, you know that right?”

“I… I know.” It sounded like lip service. “How are you? How have you been?”

“Um, okay.” Should Luigi tell the truth? It was hard to tell what Mario’s mental state was from so little contact. Would being honest bring him home, or just make him more depressed?

“I saw… you started an official Super Green account.”

“Oh! I did, yes! Are… are you following it?”

“‘Course,” Mario said. Luigi thought he could hear a smile. “I follow all your fan accounts. Well… almost all. Some of them, uh-”

“I learned that, yeah.” Luigi winced. “Bern- My friend, the one who talked me into this, he showed me.”

“I don’t know a friend named ‘Burn.’” The smile was gone now. Mario’s voice was completely flat.

“I met him recently. Bernie, I mean. He… he's really nice.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You met him recently.”

“Yeah?”

“And he knows who you are?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

“You just met him and you told him that already?”

“I didn’t tell him, exactly. He recognized me. That’s why he approached me at first.”

“And he’s showing you the weird fan accounts?”

Luigi could feel his frustration starting to rise up again. Mario wasn’t even here, and he thought he could judge who Luigi made friends with? “He was just joking around.”

“Are you sure? What if he’s a stalker? What if-”

“He’s not!” Luigi snapped, and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. But he’s not.”

“Okay… I- I’m sorry too. For everything.”

Why don’t you come home then? “I know. It’s okay. I just miss you, is all. I miss my brother.”

“I…” A long shaky breath. “I should go. I’m sorry, Luigi. Bye.”

“Wait! Mario!”

All he got in reply was a click and a dial tone.

Luigi sighed, and resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall.

Despite what Luigi told Bernie, “cutting back on work” just meant limiting himself to only one new job a day. And since most jobs required follow-up, it still added up to twelve hours a day in other people's bathrooms and kitchens.

Still, there were benefits to working for yourself. After one little old lady tried to lure Luigi into agreeing with her that koopas were a “problem that needed to be solved,” he made an excuse about needing more parts and booked it out of the building. He could call her tomorrow and drop the job and let someone else handle that nonsense.

That was how Luigi found himself stuck in rush-hour traffic despite planning his day to avoid it. It was more frustrating than dangerous, but the van had a pretty bad blind spot and he had to stay constantly alert for pedestrians or motorcycles. Maybe that was why Luigi didn't notice at first that this particular traffic jam wasn't the typical afternoon crush. In fact he didn't notice anything strange at all, until the people in the car ahead of him jumped out and took off on foot.

“Cazzo,” Luigi muttered to himself. He couldn't see whatever had gotten them so spooked, but if they weren't moving he wasn't going to either, so there was no point sitting around. 

He grabbed a costume coin and his keys and abandoned the van. At least insurance would cover that if anything happened to it. Luigi followed the crowd until he found an alley that looked like it went far enough, and ducked inside so he could change and double back.

Finally Luigi could see what was causing the problem. And… yeah, he would have run from that too only a few years ago. 

A giant airship in the shape of Bowser's face was shooting hazy beams of red light from its eyes. The eyes could move independently, giving the face a weird expression most of the time, but it was almost more intimidating when it looked unhinged.

It was flying low, below the tops of most of the buildings. If Luigi made his way up there and jumped down…

He shuddered at the thought of it. But Luigi couldn't just walk away from this. He was a hero, brother or not.

“Super Green!”

Speaking of heroes… Peach was leaning out the window of a news van, stuck in the traffic jam. Luigi dodged around the immobile and abandoned cars until he reached the van, the camera guy already filming from the backseat.

“Is there a problem, citizen?”

Peach laughed. “Just wondering what we can do to help.”

Luigi felt his jaw clench and tried to turn it into a smile. At least she was asking this time. “It's under control, but if you really want to assist, there's always crowd control.”

“Boys, crowd control!” Peach said, voice commanding, and her film crew snapped to attention.

Luigi shook his head as he jogged toward the tallest office building. A few hundred years ago Peach would have been one heck of a military commander or something, and now she was a junior reporter. Maybe it made sense if she wanted to be a superhero too.

The building wasn't deserted yet, the security staff were still debating about protocol, but they let Luigi pass right by. One even tipped his hat.

At times like this Luigi felt like an imposter. Didn't they know he was just a guy? He didn't even go to college. But as he braced himself on the roof of the building and looked down at Bowser’s ship… He had to admit, not everyone could do this.

Luigi threw himself into the air, thoughts flowing through his mind about how disappointed the city would be if he biffed it and had to be scraped off the pavement. He always had thoughts like this in that split second between leaping and landing. He'd never asked if Mario got them too, but maybe he should have. Maybe it would have made a difference.

That thought didn't formulate until Luigi was already firmly planted on the wing of the ship and was busting his way in through a repair hatch. So much of this had become routine, even alone, that his mind tended to wander. Passing through the hallways of this ship, knocking down helmeted troopers who spotted him before they could raise the alarm, all he was thinking about was how shoddy the workmanship of the walls was.

Had this been a rush job, to make up for the awkward bank heist? Some of the panels were only secured with two bolts! All it would take was one bad bump and the whole thing was likely to fall apart.

Luigi made his way to the bridge, following signs scrawled on printer paper. He knew he was getting close long before he saw the doors, Bowser's booming voice bouncing off the walls and audible a whole floor down.

“No, starboard. I said- Starboard is right, Adrien!”

There were more raised voices the closer Luigi got, and by the time he burst onto the bridge he knew he was expected.

For some reason, just like last time, Bowser's face lit up the moment he saw him.

“Welcome aboard, Greenie! Here to watch my conquest from the front row?”

“The only thing I'm here to watch is your downfall!” Luigi exclaimed.

“That's more like it!” Bowser grinned.

He made a gesture, Luigi braced himself, and metal bars shot up an inch in front of Luigi's nose. Luigi dodged left and bumped into more of them, spinning around to see he was penned in on all sides.

A metal grid dropped from the ceiling, clanging down on the bars and completing the cage.

“Cut that close,” Bowser said, thoughtfully. “Next time plan for a couple redundancies.”

Two koopas stood on either side of the cage, each grabbing a metal bar with a bare hand. Electrifying the cage wouldn't have helped Luigi's situation, but he resented not having the chance to try.

“All right, let's head uptown,” Bowser said, waving at the pilot.

“You won't get away with this!” Luigi shouted. It was kind of a pathetic threat, but he had to say something to make Bowser think Luigi wasn't already planning his escape attempt. That lid wasn't even fastened.

“It’s been smooth going so far, Greenie. Though you make a nice dashboard ornament.” Bowser flashed a grin at him. 

Luigi rolled his eyes.

The ship turned slowly, but surprisingly smoothly, only the view through the ship's mouth indicating movement. If it wasn't for those blurry red beams shooting out and melting windows it would have been a nice trip.

Melting windows? Were those beams the same as the handheld heat gun Bowser had used at the bank? Then- Did that mean he'd just added a laser pointer in the middle? The heat would warp the light, so that's why it was blurry…

It was so stupid that it was kind of brilliant.

Now all Luigi had to do was wait for his guards to get distracted and he'd be able to take Bowser by surprise. What was Bowser’s plan here? There must be one. He couldn't just drive around at random and expect people to bow to his whims… could he?

“Stop right there, evildoer!”

A feminine voice rang out across the bridge, and a metal panel popped out of the ceiling and dropped a figure in pink and red unceremoniously onto the floor. She stood up, wobbling a little, and put up her dukes.

Luigi's stomach sank. Why had he believed Peach would listen to him? She never asked if he needed help before putting on that suit, now she was jumping in when he had asked her to do something else. Had she ever had faith in him at all?

“Oh come on!” Bowser exclaimed. “Still?”

“Evil can only win when good stops fighting!” Peach exclaimed.

“You read that off a cereal box?” Bowser sneered.

Peach cupped her hand, and a green pellet started to swell in her grip. She swung back like a baseball pitcher, and the pellet expanded into a white ball as it flew through the air.

Bowser barely turned as he batted it away. The giant turnip splatted on the grated floor of the bridge.

“Who throws turnips anyway?” Bowser muttered. “Oy! Somebody gets the net gun!”

“On it!” One of the guards holding Luigi's cell said, starting to turn.

“Not you, you stay put, some-”

With some kind of martial arts cry, Peach threw herself at Bowser's shell. He cried out and started squirming around, trying to reach his own back.

Now that was a distraction. Luigi eyed the guards, both of them watching their boss stumble across the bridge, and started scooting backwards.

“Is this any way to behave? Have some dignity as a hero, dammit!”

A trooper returned with the net gun after only a few seconds - they must have been keeping it nearby. He took aim, fired, and missed completely, hitting back of the pilot's chair. It must have been enough to startle him, because the ship swerved enough that Peach was flung off Bowser's back and skidded across the floor. 

That could get bad. All he needed was a moment to brace himself and kick the lid off the cage, but the ship was still tilting and as soon as he tried he stumbled against the bars. By the time Luigi had gotten himself situated again Bowser had turned things around and was pinning Peach against the dashboard of the ship.

“Let her go!” Luigi exclaimed.

“Wait a minute.” Luigi saw Bowser's expression go cold. “Wait just a damn minute. Who are you?”

Peach’s legs wriggled as he hoisted her in the air. Luigi had been in that position before. With your limbs flailing in the air you couldn't really fight back.

“I- I'm Super Pink,” Peach said. “I guess. That's what they've been calling me. I wear more red than pink, but I think-”

“No,” Bowser said. “I mean who are you?”

He switched his grip until he was holding her up by one arm. Bowser peeled the glove off her hand, and Luigi got a glimpse of a chunky silver watch on her wrist. Had… Peach ever worn something like that before?

One of the koopas guarding Luigi's cage let go of his assigned bar and ran off the bridge.

Both Luigi and the other koopa watched him go, and then exchanged a glance of mutual confusion.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Peach said, though her voice sounded unsure.

“Sure you don't,” Bowser said, clearly not buying it. “Where did you get that? You been rooting through my trash?”

“I- I bought it! Fair and square!”

“Fair my tail, that was supposed to be garbage! It's too expensive to- Who sold it to you? How much did they charge?”

Peach said a number, and Bowser growled.

“That's not even enough for the casing. If I find out-” He stopped, closed his eyes, and took a breath. “I will not kill whoever it is, but I need to know.”

“Um, it was a koopa?”

“Unhelpful, whoever-you-are. In fact, come to think of it-” Bowser gripped Peach's watch between his claws and snapped the clasp, the band falling off her wrist and clattering on the floor.

And as Luigi and the rest of the bridge watched, the young woman in his grasp shrank about three feet.

A pink-capped Toadette dangled from Bowser's hand, her little arm completely enveloped by his fist. Her feet kicked futilely, pink toadstool pigtails bouncing in the air.

“My secret identity!” the Toadette exclaimed.

“It’s not a secret when you steal someone else's identity! I can't believe I thought you were her.”

“Hey!” Luigi shouted from the cage. “Why did you make a watch that turns people into the woman who rejected you?”

Bowser actually looked chagrined. “Look, she just happened to be there when I was testing the thing, and- I don't have to explain myself to you!” He paused. “Where's- Adrien, where did Mike go?”

The remaining koopa guard answered, “Mike ran off when you found the disguise watch, boss.”

“Fucking Mike. Oh my god.” He stopped again, and this time took two deep breaths. “If anybody has Mike's number,” he said, raising his voice so the whole bridge could hear, “Tell him I want a list of everything he sold and I won't run him out of the city on a rail.”

Bowser carried the Toadette over to the cage, lifted the lid and dropped her inside.

“All right, where were we?”

“Uptown, boss!” the pilot said.

“Excellent! Finally.”

Bowser went back to his position, giving orders to the pilot and the gunners, and the guard watching it all with fascination.

After a quick glance to make sure the guard wasn't paying any attention to his guarding, Luigi leaned over the Toadette.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm not hurt or anything.” She sighed. “I thought it was a good idea! I mean, what if he goes after my family or something? Don't superheroes need secret identities?”

“Bowser isn't that kind of villain,” Luigi assured her. “He's a big-picture guy.”

He decided not to mention that if he wasn't, she'd have been putting Peach's family in danger by using her face. This wasn't the time.

“Now I'm gonna have to make a real costume. That watch let me change the clothes to look like whatever I wanted.” She looked up at Luigi. “Where'd you get yours?”

“Oh, I sew.”

“Are you-”

“I'm not taking sewing commissions.”

“Darn.”

“Not for darning either.”

The Toadette just looked at him in confusion.

“Nevermind. Can you give me a boost?”

“Huh? Sure, but why?”

Ten seconds of whispered conversation later, Luigi had the lid off the cage and catapulted himself back out onto the bridge. Thirty seconds later he'd thrown himself at the steering column and tilted the ship violently to the side, sending everyone who wasn't buckled in careening across the floor.

“Like a damn cockroach,” Bowser said, laughing as he sat up. “I'd squash you if I thought it would keep you down!”

“I'm not making it that easy for you,” Luigi said, feeling himself grin.

“Wouldn't have it any other way.”

The ship had to come down, that was the biggest issue. The heat guns were doing more damage, but if Luigi tried to damage those they'd explode. He needed to get the ship out of the air, and the best place to do that was outside the city.

Luigi hoped the so-called Super Pink would follow the plan he'd outlined. He had Bowser distracted and the bridge in disarray, all she had to do was steer.

The fight was easy, by comparison. Luigi had fought Bowser literally hundreds of times now. He knew every move, every step of this dance, and they both knew how it would end.

The only new addition was that after chasing each other around the ship and exchanging a few blows, Luigi made a bluff down one hallway, then took a detour into the engine room.

Oh… this. This was beautiful. No piece out of place, no effort wasted, streamlined to perfection. Only someone with a lot of hands-on experience could strip down an engine to just the required parts and still have it fly this smoothly.

It would be an absolute shame to destroy such an efficient piece of machinery.

Luigi sent a bolt of electricity through the engine until something made a grinding noise and the smell of smoke filled the air.

Red lights started flashing and the ship listed to the right. Luigi heard Bowser roar in fury and chased the sound until he could resume their fight.

It was strange. Bowser represented everything that had gone wrong in Luigi’s life. But somehow, at times like this when all he wanted to do was punch out his feelings, Luigi was downright happy to see him.

“My ship!” Bowser cried. “You just had to ruin everything, didn't you?”

“Yes,” Luigi said flatly.

“If I didn't get enough-” The red lights were joined by a blaring siren, and Luigi couldn't hear what Bowser said above it.

As the ship swayed back and forth, Bowser pressed himself against the wall, pinning Luigi in with his arms and knees. It may have been to stop him from running away, but it had the benefit of keeping Luigi from getting knocked around. Like a giant koopa seatbelt.

As soon as the swaying stopped, for now, a huge fist slammed into the wall above Luigi's head. He returned it with a kick to Bowser's stomach that doubled him over and slipped past him to run.

The ship was going down, and Luigi was going up. An efficient engine meant it was going to fail all at once when it failed. They would drop like a stone.

He ran back to the bridge, Bowser at his heels, and found the pink Toadette and two koopas wrestling over the controls.

“Down!” Luigi exclaimed. “Steer down or we'll crash!”

Bowser grabbed the back of Luigi's costume and hauled him in the air like a kitten. “What did you do?”

“Ruined everything, remember? We've already been over this.”

“You little green asshole!”

The ship tilted further, so much that it was hard to stay on the floor. Bowser dropped Luigi on his ass and ran for the steering column, throwing the Toadette and his own men aside to take over.

Surprisingly, Bowser steered them down. Luigi watched through the windshield as the ground grew closer and closer, and finally they barrelled into the dirt and skidded and bumped over stones, until coming to an abrupt stop.

“Now move!” Bowser said. “Everybody off!”

The evacuation proceeded smoothly, as if practiced. Maybe it was. Working for someone like Bowser, you probably had to assume this kind of thing was going to happen.

The smell of burning had only gotten stronger, and visible smoke was starting to fill the air near the engine room. Combined with the heat guns…

“Where did we land?” Luigi asked the crowd in front of him.

“I think it's north of the city,” the Toadette said.

Thankfully there weren't many trees in this area. At this time of year it was practically a mud flat. “Somebody should probably call the fire department.”

“Why? Nothing's on-”

An explosion rocked the ship. The koopas sped up and Luigi was right behind them, giving the Toadette a little shove to get her moving. At this point the danger of being trampled was lower than getting burned, so Luigi would rather take the risk of running.

And he kept running until he felt a tug on his collar and his feet meeting nothing but air.

“You!”

Bowser slammed him against a wall, which - as predicted - collapsed. At least it was an outer wall; the both of them spilled out into the open air, broken sheets of metal splashing in the mud, smoke billowing behind them. More parts fell off as the structural integrity of the ship officially gave up the ghost.

Luigi dodged Bowser's tail and got him a solid hit in the eye, before Bowser clipped him on the side of the head hard enough to make him reel. He found himself leaning against a dented piece of the ship, not quite able to pull himself to his feet.

Bowser braced his hand next to Luigi's shoulder and leaned over him. He grinned again, both of them knowing that at least for a few seconds, Luigi was completely at his mercy.

“You look good, Greenie. You look better.”

“Shut up,” Luigi muttered. “Stop calling me that. You don't get to call me that.”

“Hey, I’ve been saying for years. Has someone else been stealing my bit?” Bowser grinned. “Should I be jealous?”

Luigi felt his face heating up. Bowser had to be doing this on purpose to throw him off, there was no way he was actually flirting right now.

“Yes,” Luigi said, drenching his words in sarcasm. “I've been seeing another villain on the side. He means a lot more to me than you do.”

“But he's not as good as me, Greenie. You'll never have it as good as I give it to you.”

Luigi was definitely blushing now. It was embarrassing hearing words like that from that mouth, especially so close. He could feel Bowser's body heat, he could reach out right now and…

“I just wrecked your ship,” Luigi said, trying to ignore his racing heart. “And your plan.”

“Nah, this was the plan. I mean I'm pissed off about the ship, but I made it on the cheap on purpose. Woulda looked cooler if it was on fire while we were crashing, but I don't want anybody to think the guns are faulty.”

“Are they not?”

“The engine exploded, not the guns.”

“The guns could still explode, if I get back over there.”

“Now you're pushing it.”

Movement caught Luigi's eye, and he leaned over to see better. One of Bowser's troopers was waving his arms from the less muddy part of the flats.

“Your guy wants you.”

“My what?” Bowser turned, and Luigi took advantage of it to roll to the side and run for the metaphorical hills.

He scooped up the Toadette on the way, and didn't stop running until Bowser's shouting disappeared below the approaching fire engine sirens.

“You thought that was me?” Peach said.

They met up at the coffee shop again, the day after Bowser's attack. Luigi was pretty sure the staff thought he was a weirdo, but at least that meant they wouldn't be suspicious of any strange conversations he had.

He'd spent most of the night rehearsing his apology. Peach didn't even know what Luigi had been thinking about her, but he still felt he ought to explain.

Besides, she deserved to know someone had stolen her identity.

“I said I was sorry!” Luigi said. “I should have talked to you about it.”

“Yes, you should have,” Peach said. “But I'm sorry if anything I did made you feel like you couldn't.”

“No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm… I've been pulling away.”

“That's okay. It hasn't been easy for me either, I've been talking to a grief counselor though… Have you thought about that?”

He probably should, but he wasn't sure how much of the truth he could tell. “I'll. I'll think about it.”

“You look better, though.”

“I feel better,” Luigi said, glad it was the truth. “Are you doing okay? I mean, grief counseling is good, but… Are you? Really?”

Peach gave him a wobbly smile. “I'm okay. It's hard, but… I knew dating a superhero would be like this.”

It shouldn't have been. He should be here.

“I miss him,” Peach said, softly. “I miss his voice, I miss being able to talk to him about anything… and nothing. It's still hard.”

“Yeah,” Luigi said. 

The conversation the other night had gone nowhere. Just a lot of Mario blaming himself for things that were his fault, but wouldn't get better until he stopped hiding.

“It is. It really is.”

“But it will get better.” Peach smiled, and raised her coffee cup. “I promise.”

“I believe you. It is, already.”

“Good. Me too.”

“Good.”

He was quiet for a moment. Peach sipped her drink, smiling, while Luigi tried to ignore the voice in his head screaming at him to tell her the truth. At least then someone would understand the way he felt.

Instead, he said, “Did you, um, did you see I set up an official Super Green account?”

“I did! I followed it! You didn't see?”

“Am I supposed to be checking my followers? Is that a social media thing?”

“You don't have to, I guess, but I think people like to.”

“That sounds exhausting. I'm barely remembering to post every day.”

“You need a media manager,” Peach said, sagely.

“I cannot afford a media manager.” He was still barely making rent, but Peach didn't need to know that. Even this coffee was a splurge he couldn't really afford.

“I can give you an intern?”

“Give me?”

“There's so many at the studio, I don't think anyone will notice.”

Luigi laughed. “I don't want an intern, thank you Peach. I kind of like doing it. I like having something that's all mine.” He paused. “Except I do get a lot of weird comments.”

“Don't read the comments.”

“How many of them are bots, do you think?”

“Not as many as you'd hope.”

Luigi hesitated. “Maybe I could borrow an intern.”

“Actually, I do have a friend who's pretty good with social media.” She leaned forward. “And she's been bugging me to introduce you anyway.”

“W- wait, really? Like… as a date? Because I'm not- I really shouldn't be dating right now. And if I am going to date there's someone else I kind of have a thing for.”

“No no, not a date,” Peach's eyes lit up. “But I do want to hear more about whoever that is.”

“Just… this guy. He's um. He knows who I am, he recognized me as, y'know.”

He waited for Peach to panic, to react like Mario had, but she just nodded. Luigi had been worried that Mario was right and he should be more suspicious, but if Peach was taking it in stride then maybe Mario was the one being paranoid after all.

“We've been hanging out a lot,” Luigi went on. “Texting every day.”

“That seems promising.”

“Yeah but… I like him, but I've sort of been leaning on him for emotional support.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it just feels like I'm taking advantage. He's not getting anything in return out of this.”

Peach frowned a little. “Do you think he wants something in return?”

“No… Not sex, at least. I don't think.” Luigi sighed. “I don't know, he says some pretty flirty stuff sometimes, but I asked if he was hitting on me the first couple times we hung out, and he said no.”

Peach shrugged. “You just told me you shouldn't be dating right now. Maybe he could tell you didn't want to be hit on and walked it back.”

“I guess.”

“If he's doing all this, letting you vent to him and stuff, either he's a superhero groupie or,” she smiled, “he just genuinely likes you.”

Luigi could feel himself blushing. “I hope so.”

“You're a likable guy, Luigi! Since Mario's not here anymore, I'll have to be the one to remind you.” Peach reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

Luigi squeezed back, but his smile felt sheepish. “Is it normal that I need other people to do that for me?”

“It's completely normal to need other people around you. We're a social species.”

“That is true… Thank you, Peach. And I'm sorry about the Super Pink thing.”

“It's not your fault.” She waved her hand. “It's funny, I see myself on TV all the time but I still didn't realize she looked like me. How was she doing that, anyway?”

Luigi hesitated. He'd glossed over that part in his explanation, and for some reason he was reluctant to let her know that Bowser made a device to give other people her face. Luigi had actually believed Bowser when he said it was just convenient, but nobody else would.

Come to think of it, why did he believe it? Why should he believe anything Bowser said? But there was something about the tone of voice, like he was just embarrassed enough that he knew how it looked but wasn't trying to cover anything up…

It was weird but… Luigi knew Bowser. He wasn't the type to lie about this.

“She must have scanned your face off TV. You're definitely the prettiest reporter they've got.”

“You said it, not me,” Peach said, pretending to fluff her hair. “I wonder if she chose me to get under Bowser's skin, though.”

“Didn't he ever give up on you?”

“He gave up on me a while ago,” Peach said. “He only kept kidnapping me because it was a good distraction for you two.”

“Oh…” Luigi had known that, in theory, but he still thought of Bowser as pining after Peach. If he wasn't anymore, did that mean he really was flirting with Luigi?

“What are you smiling over?” Peach asked, and Luigi jolted in his seat.

“Huh? I was?” He touched his face, needing to confirm it despite knowing it was true.

Luigi was smiling. And his pulse had picked up a little, and his cheeks were warmer than usual, and there was a curl of excitement and nervousness in his stomach, like butterflies.

It couldn't be. It couldn't.

Luigi jumped to his feet, his chair skidding across the floor and drawing eyes from staff and customers alike. He really couldn't come back here again. “I uh, just thought of something. Nothing. I should go.”

“Oh, okay.” He could see the disappointment on Peach's face, but he couldn't continue this conversation and accept what he'd just realized at the same time.

Luigi promised he'd call her later and booked it out of the cafe as quickly as he could without running. He was never more grateful for driving a van around as when he needed to shut himself in the back and hide from the world for a while.

Was he really attracted to Bowser? Of all people, it had to be Bowser? Sure, Luigi was attracted to plenty of other people too, including Bernie, but… When had that happened? When had his taste gotten so awful?

And how was he supposed to fight Bowser again, knowing what he knew now?

Chapter Text

“Bernie? What happened to your eye?!”

The voice took Bowser by surprise. Even in a city as big as this, you ran into people you didn't want to see. It had to be a curse that the same day Bowser discovered his disguise watch couldn't hide injuries was the same day he bumped into the person who gave it to him.

You happened, Bowser thought to himself, but out loud said, “Tripped on a Lego.”

The concern on Luigi's face morphed into barely-withheld laughter. “Oh no… Well, it could be worse.”

“Sure,” Bowser agreed. “Maybe I'll tell people I got into a bar fight, keep my reputation up.”

“Nobody would believe someone like you would lose a bar fight,” Luigi said.

“Who says I lost? Maybe the other guy just got in a lucky swing.”

The other guy in question giggled. “It's good to see you.”

“You too,” Bowser said, honestly. Running into Luigi like this was a shock, and a reminder to be more careful with his character, but he couldn't deny it was always nice to see him.

It shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. This was the best hardware store in the city, the one that carried almost everything and could order whatever they didn't. The owner knew every contractor by first name and could give advice about half their disciplines. But - and this was important - never asked too many questions. Bowser had actually witnessed one of the cashiers lying to a cop's face about their lack of records. He knew they had records. He'd called up and asked for “twelve more of that thing I ordered last time” on multiple occasions. He only even wore his disguise watch here because the store was packed full of so much stuff that it was hard to get around in his real form.

Right now, Bowser had a basket full of coils of copper wire, and saw that Luigi was loading up on caulk. Whatever that was for he probably didn't want to know anyway. But he couldn't bring himself to part just yet, so as he grabbed a couple more loops of 10 gauge, he brought up the first thing he could think of.

“Caught your big leap on TV yesterday.”

“Oh… They’re still replaying it?” Luigi gave a smile that only moved the edges of his mustache. Bowser was familiar with that one, that one meant he was faking it. “Did I look cool?”

“Very,” Bowser said, truthfully. He’d reviewed the footage of Luigi jumping on his ship for… probably way too long.

“You’re lying. I’m sure I looked goofy.”

“You look cool even when you’re goofy.” Bowser nudged him with his elbow. “I like you goofy.”

The rest of Luigi’s mustache finally shifted into a real smile. His ears turning beet red was just a bonus. “Good, because I can’t turn it off.”

“Good.”

Bowser followed Luigi to the checkout counter. Honestly, he needed a few more parts, but he didn’t want Luigi to wonder why he was bulk-buying induction heating tubes. He’d have to get them from somewhere else and pass the expenses on to the client.

He still didn’t want to say goodbye, so when they left the store Bowser glanced around until he spotted a deli down the block. “Want to grab something to eat? My treat.”

“No,” Luigi said, so firmly that Bowser’s stomach sank. Did he not want to eat with him that badly? “If I let you treat me while you look like that, I’ll feel awful.”

“Oh,” Bowser almost laughed in relief. Ugh, this felt like walking on a bed of nails. One wrong step and he was in misery. Was being in love always this bad?

“I’ll treat you,” Luigi said. “Are you really hungry though? It’s kind of early for lunch.”

“I’m just making excuses to spend more time with you,” Bowser said, without shame.

Luigi blushed again. God he loved that. “Well uh… maybe they have coffee.”

They did. Plain black coffee in a pot like the one Bowser had at home, poured into paper cups by the beanish behind the counter. Bowser watched Luigi pour about half the sugar container into his, resisting the urge to make a dad joke. Luigi would probably appreciate it, but he needed to save it for a better time.

It was early for lunch, but that just meant all the local grandpas had gathered to catch up and compare backaches. They just barely managed to squeeze into a corner table where the sunlight was too bright to see. Bowser took the seat next to the window and tried out a couple of chair angles until he could block the light from beaming right into Luigi’s eyes.

“Wow, that’s convenient,” Luigi said. “Sometimes my neck gets sore when we walk around, but I guess it’s worth it for things like this.”

“Does it?” Bowser said, frowning. That would only get worse in his real form…

Not that Luigi would want to walk around with the real him.

“Oh, don’t feel bad! That kind of thing happens a lot. I’ve always, um, I always seem to like people a lot taller than me…”

He hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing. How’s work?”

They chatted for a while, exchanging the usual stories. They texted so often that they’d already shared most of it, but it was easier face-to-face. You didn’t have to think about what to say, you just let the words flow.

Although Luigi was hesitating a lot today. Like he wanted to say something and kept chickening out. It wasn't the first time Bowser had noticed him doing that, but he usually managed to wheedle the truth out of him before too long.

“So what’s the deal?” Bowser asked, after the third time. “You’re squirrely today. Spill it.”

“I’m not… squirrely,” Luigi said. His face was turning red again, but Bowser didn’t think he’d done anything to cause it. “Can I… ask you something? Your um, professional opinion?”

“You got computer troubles?” Bowser asked. “Or car troubles? I'm experienced with both but if it takes more than an hour I expect payment in pizza.”

“No.” Luigi chuckled, “Noted, but no. It's um… about Bowser?”

The irony of being consulted about himself was not lost on Bowser. He braced himself and said, “Shoot.”

“Do you know if… Do the fan forums, um…” Luigi swallowed, then said his next sentence in a rushed whisper. “Is it weird if I find him attractive?”

Bowser had to clench his jaw to keep from cheering. This had to be a dream. No way he got this lucky.

“It's not weird,” Bowser said, carefully keeping himself composed. Trying, anyway. He was sure he wasn’t pulling it off. “Not my type, but I know plenty of people do. Kinda… surprised you're one of them?” Surprised and thrilled.

Luigi made a weird noise in the back of his throat, like he was swallowing a laugh. “So am I!” he exclaimed. “I don't know when it started, but I think I sort of always was? I just didn't think about it until…”

“Until?” Bowser repeated.

“Um. I think. He was flirting with me?”

“What?” Bowser said absently.

Had he? When? Wait, did that come off as flirting? Shit, he had hadn’t he?

“He got a little fresh, at the very least,” Luigi said, with a grumble in his voice.

“Is- is that the end of the world?” Bowser asked. Don’t sound too eager, idiot! He quickly picked up his coffee to disguise it.

“It’s terrifying,” Luigi said.

Bowser choked. Only the size of the cup kept him from spraying coffee across the table, and he coughed for a few seconds afterward. “I think ‘terrifying’ is kind of a strong word?”

“I don’t,” Luigi muttered. “He’s the type that thinks ‘no’ means ‘convince me.’”

“Uh…” His stomach didn’t just sink this time. It dropped into his shoes and filled with ice. “That's a type?”

Luigi gave a little half-smile. “You’ve probably never had to deal with one of them. Your arms are as big as my head.”

Bowser tried to smile back but it felt like his face was cracking.

“Guys like that…” Luigi said softly. “When somebody won’t accept a polite no for an answer, you don’t know if they’ll accept any no. You know? That’s why it’s scary. You’re constantly walking on eggshells, wondering what it will take for them to snap.”

So that meant Peach had thought- Had everyone thought… Was that why there were so many awful people on his fan forums?

He was going to be sick.

“Are you okay?” Luigi asked. “You just went really pale.”

“I didn’t know… I never thought of him that way.” Shit, he was still wearing that stupid emblem on the shirt he’d programmed into this disguise. Did everyone who saw it think he approved of that kind of thing? Bowser fumbled with the hoodie until he could zip it over his stomach and at least hide most of it.

“I know,” Luigi said. “I figured out pretty quickly that you weren’t one of those fanboys.”

“So that’s a known thing, huh?” Bowser muttered. He covered his face with his hands, suddenly wanting to cut off the world. He couldn’t look at Luigi right now. He didn’t even want to look at himself. “I thought it was weird when I was banned from all the forums.”

“You got banned?”

“I kept getting in fights with people who were being gross about women. Or bigots. There was a lot of bigots.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t get it. Is that the kind of vibe I- they’re getting from him? I didn’t.”

“Not everyone is like that. I think there’s a lot of guys like you, who sort of identify with him.”

Ha… That was one way of putting it.

“I’ve been studying social media a lot lately. I think it’s just because he wants to take over the city, and he tends to use force. So people project what they’d do if they took over the city onto him. I don’t actually think Bowser is a bigot, at least. Even if he can be gross about women.”

Bowser winced.

“And men, apparently,” Luigi added.

He jolted upright in his chair. “Did- did that feel gross?! What he did to you?”

Luigi pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Not really gross? I’m not even sure if he was really flirting or just pretending he was to unsettle me.”

“Right, right,” Bowser agreed quickly. “It was probably that. Or, wait, is that worse?”

“He’s never done it before,” Luigi said. “That’s why it was weird. We banter, but this was… suggestive.”

“Right…” What had he said? It just kind of came out. He couldn’t hide how happy he always was to see Luigi, so he ended up saying whatever stupid thing popped into his head.

Oh god, he’d said something about “giving it to” him, hadn’t he?

“You really look pale,” Luigi said. “Is this freaking you out that bad?”

Yes, but Bowser couldn’t say that without sounding like an obsessive weirdo. “I feel sick, actually. I should probably head home.”

“Oh no. Okay. Are you good to drive?”

“Took the subway.” Bowser tried another smile and stood up, leaving his coffee on the table. “I’m sorry about this.”

“It’s okay, at least let me walk you to the station.”

“I’m fine, really. If I am sick I don’t want you to catch it, so…”

“I’m worried. Maybe I could give you a ride?”

“I’m fine.”

Bowser started backing up toward the door, barely remembering to grab his bag of wire, and as he bent over the sunlight shone back into the deli and made Luigi squint. A perfect distraction.

“See you!”

“Ah, um, bye then…”

Bowser would probably have felt bad about this, but right now he wasn’t capable of feeling worse than he did already. He legitimately felt sick, to the point he wasn’t sure he wasn’t really going to throw up on the subway.

And what could he do? His reputation was already in the garbage. People thought of Bowser as a creep and his followers as just as creepy. Taking over the city was supposed to fix things, but how could he fix his own public image?

It was starting to feel like it wasn’t even worth it… But how could he stop now? He’d gone too far. There was no future for him where he got everything he wanted.

There was no future where Luigi loved him back.

It wasn’t until days later, obsessively replaying the conversation in his mind, he would remember that the whole thing started with Luigi admitting he was attracted to Bowser.

It took a couple weeks before Luigi asked Peach about that friend of hers who wanted to meet him. He was doing his best not to think about what he’d realized after their conversation, and there were plenty of other things to focus on instead, so it wasn’t until he accidentally skipped a couple days of social media posts that he remembered what she said.

The friend wasn’t an intern, apparently, though Peach didn’t say what she did. The coffee shop was still off-limits, but Luigi figured a young woman would appreciate meeting up in public, and he didn’t want to pick somewhere too date-like… After some thought, Luigi suggested they meet up at the library.

He still remembered how surprised he and Mario had been realizing that giant modern building downtown was a library, of all things. It was an abstract concoction of glass and steel that looked more like a mid-game Jenga tower than a place to read books in. And the ground floor had a cafe and a gift shop and plenty of seating. It was cheap, it was public, and it would encourage both of them to keep their voices down. Perfect.

Luigi could never bring Bernie here.

He’d been texting Peach’s friend for a couple days already, and she’d been the one to suggest meeting up in person. That made sense, if she was really a “Super Green” fan, but she’d said, “A lot of things will be easier in person,” in a way that made Luigi curious.

So he got there early and snagged a table and waited. A couple minutes before their meeting time she texted that she’d arrived, but she’d never sent him a picture or told him what she was wearing. Should he just sit here and wait for someone to recognize him, instead?

All the other customers looked like people here to read, or get out of the weather. It had been drizzly lately and the seasons were starting to turn. Everyone had a coat or umbrella tucked under their arm.

At least, everyone except the young woman who’d just entered. She didn’t even have a jacket, and her outfit was flawless, like she was a mannequin come to life. In fact, Luigi recognized the bag under her arm. The design was subtle, but unless it was a knock-off - and from the rest of her clothes it didn’t look like it - the price of that one purse would pay Luigi’s rent for most of the year.

The woman got her coffee, turned, saw him, and waved cheerfully. Luigi glanced behind himself to make sure she wasn’t looking at someone else, and when he’d turned back she was already next to his table.

“Hi!” the woman said. “I’m Daisy.”

“Uh… Luigi.”

“Wow,” she said as she dropped into the opposite seat. “You just told me straight off.”

“I thought you knew already. You are Peach’s friend, aren’t you?”

“I am!” she said, cheerfully. She took out her phone, the latest model, in a color that Luigi remembered they were calling ‘desert titanium.’ “Here, I have pictures to prove it.” She flipped through a few selfies of herself and Peach, both women looking flawless in every shot, as if professionally edited. Maybe they were.

“Wait…” The purse, the phone, the photos. Something clicked. “You’re that Daisy? The daughter of-”

Daisy’s smile stiffened, and Luigi shut his mouth.

“Ah, I mean, the socialite?”

“That’s the polite way to put it,” Daisy nodded. “But if you mean I’m rich and jobless, yes.”

“Uh…”

“My father didn’t want me to work,” she said, sighing. “He thought it would reflect poorly on him, and it’s not like I had experience anyway… I’ve tried to volunteer at different charities before but my dad always just sends them a big donation to get them to fire me.” She smiled again. “So I learned to weaponize that! And now I do social media pretty much full-time.”

“Oh!”

“He can’t stop me if he doesn’t even know I’m doing it.” Daisy tapped the side of her head, smugly. “That, and… my other part-time gig.”

“What’s that?”

“Aww,” she said, suddenly disappointed. “I was hoping you’d recognize me right away too.” Daisy leaned in, “I’m Super Orange.”

Luigi blinked. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he hadn’t been paying that much attention to all the new heroes, but her face fell anyway. He must not have reacted quickly enough. “Oh, um, right! Wow. That’s cool.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to lie. I know you’ve been going through a lot.” She still looked upset anyway.

“No, really, that explains a bunch. When did you decide you wanted to be, uh, orange?”

“Well I didn’t decide on that,” Daisy said, pouting a little. “My costume is mostly yellow, I don’t know why the news decided to name me after the highlights.”

Super Pink had complained about the same thing. “You know, me and my brother wear mostly white. Maybe it’s just a tradition now.”

“If I’d known that I would have designed my costume to go the other way!”

“Do you want to be yellow that badly?”

“Yes!”

Luigi felt a laugh bubble up from his chest. “Can’t you ask Peach? She works in the news.”

“She’s a junior reporter, she doesn’t have any pull!”

He laughed again, too loud in the wide open space of the library, but at least it mingled with the squeak of damp shoes and the hissing of the espresso machine. “My condolences, then.”

“I guess I can live with it. It’s worth it, to do something good with my own hands.”

Ah… it had been a while since Luigi heard someone else say those words. “Yeah,” he said, firmly. “It is. It really is.”

The rest of the conversation stuck mainly to social media. The first thing Daisy told him was to avoid the comments, just like everyone else. It wasn’t that bad to check, was it? Most of them were nice!

“Even the nice ones can be bad,” Daisy said. “For you and for them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s, mm…” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Have you heard of ‘parasocial relationships’?”

He had, in his recent studying, but he wasn’t sure he really grasped it. “Sort of. It’s like when you think of celebrities as friends, right?”

“Yes and no. We're social creatures, all of us, and when you see somebody every day you start to feel like they're a member of your pack. That's why fans can get so defensive over criticism of their favorite actors, even if they know they don't know that person, it feels like you're insulting them.”

“Oh.” Luigi's last meeting with Bernie came to mind, and he said aloud, “Ohhh.”

“Sounds familiar?”

“A friend of mine is a fan of someone that I… happen to know isn't exactly a role model. He reacted kind of badly when I pointed it out.”

He didn't blame Bernie for it. Luigi had figured out a long time ago that Bernie saw himself in Bowser. They were both big and brash and loud. They even talked in a similar way - maybe they were from the same area growing up. Heck, maybe Bernie had known him as a kid!

But Bernie was so funny and sweet, and he was never anything but gentle with Luigi. He clearly cared about his family and the city. He was nothing like Bowser in the ways that mattered.

“Did you have a fight?” Daisy asked, her mouth turning down in concern.

“No, not a fight. It just shocked him, I think.”

Daisy nodded. “I think we've all had that awful moment of finding out somebody whose work you like is a horrible person.”

Luigi sighed. “That's true. Actors, directors, writers… Sometimes I feel like the information age was a mistake.”

“We'd be happier knowing less, but we wouldn't be so connected either,” Daisy said. “Which brings me back to my point; the problem with nice comments is they get your guard down. If you reply to a compliment or an innocuous question, or even just a cat pic, you're feeding into the one-way connection they feel with you. You have to stay strong and reply to nothing.”

“I can do that,” Luigi said. He hadn't replied to anything yet, though mostly because he didn't know what to say.

“I mean it. If you put a like on one cat pic, you're going to get flooded with cat pics and people who expect the same amount of interaction. If you answer a question about your day, you're going to get hundreds of people who think they can talk to you like a personal friend and get upset when you don't feel the same way.”

“This is starting to sound like it's not worth it.”

“Well, it depends on what you want out of it. If this is just you trying to put some positivity out into the world, I'd say keep at it until you get tired of it and don't worry too much. If you're actually trying to expand your brand though…”

“Not expand it,” Luigi said, thinking about it. “It's not like I want endorsements or anything. I just… I guess I want people to know they can count on me? Despite. Despite what happened. I'm still here, I'm not going anywhere.” He thought about that surge of anger he felt when he saw Bowser the last two times. “I'm dealing with things, but… I'm still here.”

Daisy beamed at him, bright as the sun that was just starting to peek through the clouds outside. “That's really nice.”

“Do you think I can pull it off?”

“If anyone can, you can,” she said. Then snapped open her designer bag and pulled out a notebook. “But I have some tips.”

An hour later, pockets stuffed with notes, Luigi said goodbye to Daisy and they exchanged assurances that they could call or text at any time. Luigi really meant it, too. He didn't often click with people that easily - even Bernie had taken a while - but Daisy felt like meeting an old friend. He was feeling a lot more optimistic about everything, despite all her warnings.

Since he was at the library anyway, Luigi decided to look for something to read. He made his way through nonfiction, the 600s, browsing books on engineering and electronics. He hadn’t stopped thinking about that engine he had to destroy in Bowser’s ship… It was so sleek, Luigi had never seen anything like it.

Bowser was always an early adopter of whatever cool piece of tech had come out. That watch thing he made, even if it was for creepy reasons, Luigi could think of dozens of ways that technology would be useful. It was just too bad he was dedicated to destruction and domination.

Turning his head so he could read titles, Luigi almost tripped over someone doing the same thing on the bottom shelf. And that was dangerous, because it was a koopa, with spikes on their shell and small horns on their head.

“Sorry,” Luigi said, keeping his voice low.

The koopa jumped to their feet, surprising Luigi a little when he got a good look at their face. They must be very young to still have such soft features, but they were nearly as tall as Luigi himself.

He tried to offer a smile, but the koopa child just stared at him with wide eyes, before grabbing a book on the Impressionists and running off. Whoops, Luigi had wandered into the 700s.

Still, art was interesting too. Luigi ended up with a book on famous forgers, another about the invention of radio, and one on carpentry - it was always useful to understand how the walls around the pipes worked.

There were a lot of books about the internet and social media and AI… But Luigi was a little burnt out on that at the moment. He’d keep at it, follow Daisy’s tips, but sometimes you just wanted to do something with your hands.

The door to Bowser’s room burst open, and Bowser didn’t bother to turn his head and see who it was. He didn’t need to, Kamek at least knocked.

Sure enough, Junior climbed over the back of his desk chair a split second after Bowser turned solitaire to fullscreen. “Dad! Oof. Dad!”

“I’m working.”

“Nuh-uh, that’s cards!”

“Playing cards helps me focus.” He closed the game and turned the chair around, so Junior wouldn’t see what he’d really been doing. “Did you find any books?”

“Yeah, some, but guess what?”

“What?”

“We saw Super Green,” Junior said, gleefully.

Bowser blinked. “What? I didn’t get an alert.”

“No, like, regular clothes Super Green! I think it was him. At the library!”

“Oh.” That was unfortunate, but it was a public place, it wasn’t like it was impossible. “Did he see you?”

“Yeah!”

“Wait, really?” Bowser leaned forward, grabbing Junior so he wouldn’t fall off the arm of the chair. “What happened? Did he say anything?”

“Huh? No. I dunno. He bumped into me! I played it cool though.”

Someday Junior would probably realize how bad he’d been at lying at this age. Bowser was looking forward to teasing him about it someday, but for now he was too worried. “That’s it? He didn’t recognize you?”

Kamek cleared his throat from the doorway, and walked in when Bowser nodded at him. “I was aware of him the whole time, he was with a woman in the cafe area when we arrived.”

Bowser started to nod, and felt himself freeze. “A… woman?”

“He checked out with three books and left before we did, I doubt he thought anything of running into a young koopa.”

“Yeah, okay, good, go back to the woman part?”

Kamek gave Bowser a flat look. “Not the reporter.”

“I didn’t think- I’m over her!”

“Hm.”

Bowser ignored him and turned back to Junior. “So you didn’t talk to Super Green at all?”

“No, I just left. In a cool way!” he lied.

“Good, that was the right thing to do. Now I gotta finish this, but you can show me what books you got in a little while, okay?”

“Okaaaay,” Junior said, with a heavy sigh. Who ever taught him to be so theatrical?

Kamek escorted Junior out of the room, and Bowser went back to work with a sigh of his own.

He already had a VPN to hide some of his more… felonious activities, but he’d needed to upgrade his account to get around the IP ban on the most popular Bowser fan forum. He was trying to get an idea of how the regular public saw him, and unfortunately the only members of it who paid attention to him beyond his flashier crimes were these yahoos. But he couldn’t spend too long at it because reading their fantasies about what Bowser would “allow” after he took over made him nauseous.

Speak of the devil - there it was again, the sick feeling Bowser had been trying to ignore for days. Why couldn’t he just get over this? Logically, he just needed to keep his behavior in mind and think about his actions. It was just like that stupid fucking bullshit anger management technique he was trying to do (and which was starting to work, to his eternal fury).

Luckily (or unluckily), outside of the fan forums most people didn’t seem to have much impression of Bowser at all. He was just “Super Red’s enemy” to them. And even now that Super Red was dead, all these new heroes were keeping him at bay just as easily. Nobody liked Bowser, but they weren’t really afraid of him either. And they sure as hell didn’t respect him.

He used to think he didn’t care about that.

The next few weeks were busy - which was good, because it kept Bowser from spiraling too much.

That stupid “heat ray” made the client so happy he'd wanted to order thirty of them, and Bowser made sure to get half up front before he changed his mind, as well as charging him for materials. Even needing to fight the guy to get the other half (bastard tried to talk Bowser into accepting a percentage of future heists instead) was rewarding, because in this business clients respected you more if you could kick their ass.

When he wasn't working on the order, Bowser was scrambling to finish all the paperwork and vaccinations his son needed to finally start school. The last one they'd been shunted to couldn't legally refuse them, and Bowser had picked up enough buzzwords to get the teachers worried about being sued for discrimination.

It would be hard, seeing his kid go off to school for the first time. Even if it was just kindergarten, it felt like… that wasn't his baby anymore.

In the little free time Bowser did have, he met up with Luigi. They were comfortable enough in their friendship now that Bowser didn't feel like he had to scramble to agree with every one of Luigi's invitations - although he still wanted to, and could admit that to himself, if no one else.

For some reason Luigi didn't want to go back to the coffee shop that had been their usual meeting spot, so they'd tried out a few different ones and gone for walks in the park a couple times. Bowser even invited Luigi to see another movie, though they hadn't managed to make it work.

Neither of them ever invited the other person home. Bowser, for obvious reasons, but he wasn't sure why Luigi didn't want him over. Maybe it felt too intimate? Maybe Luigi still wanted to keep a distance from him?

He hoped not, but he couldn't blame the guy. Bowser was keeping him at a distance too.

They were trying out an actual restaurant, for an actual meal today, one that Luigi said a friend had recommended. The first time Bowser saw Luigi in the cafe that was their former usual he'd been with Peach, so he couldn't help wondering if she was the “friend” in question.

Bowser couldn't help a spike of jealousy at that. It would be perfect, wouldn't it? Like something out of the movies. They were both mourning the same man, they were there for each other in their grief, and then…

And then there was that mystery woman Luigi had met with in the library, according to Kamek. It had been a month now and Bowser hadn’t stopped thinking about it. How many female friends did Luigi have? Was she just a friend? Did he even have the right to ask?

“Been busy?” Bowser asked, instead of anything he actually wanted to say.

“About the same,” Luigi said. “It's been nice having a normal schedule again, except for… you know.”

Even if Bowser himself wasn't attacking, there was always something going on. Barely a week went by that Super Green or the other heroes weren't in the news. Bowser saw a report about that pink identity thief fighting more piranha plants that popped out of the sewers that very morning.

“How about you?”

“Order shipped last night,” Bowser said with a sigh. He'd told Luigi about most of it, though he kept the details vague. “It all went smooth but I still crashed for about twelve hours.”

Luigi laughed. Bowser really loved that dorky little giggle of his. “I think that's normal. You were working on it for so long, it must be a relief to get it over with.”

“Definitely,” Bowser agreed.

“Your son will be glad to spend more time with you.”

“Eh, he's always around.” Bowser paused, remembering that wouldn't be true for much longer.

“What's wrong?”

It must have shown on his face. “Nothing, just… school's starting. I'm gonna miss him annoying me all the time.”

Immediately Luigi's expression went soft. He reached across the table and patted Bowser's arm. “I know. That's rough.”

“He's excited about it, keeps talking about all the games he wants to play with other kids. I'm not sure he understands what school is.”

“Well… kindergarten isn't really school yet. They do a lot of playing.”

“I hope he can get along with the other kids.” Bowser felt his mouth twist. “I never did.”

“He will,” Luigi said firmly. “And if he has disagreements, you can help him talk it out. Right?”

“Yeahhhhh. Right.” He offered a smile that he hoped looked genuine.

Taking the anger management stuff as steps to future improvement instead of an instant solution had helped. A little. But Bowser was still reluctant to admit that he'd needed the help. He hadn't brought it up and neither had Luigi.

He hadn't gotten Junior tested for anything either, though Luigi apologized a couple weeks ago for bringing it up in the first place.

“It wasn't my place to say that,” Luigi had said. “I don't know him, and I'm not a doctor, and even if I was a doctor who knew him it still wouldn't be my place because you didn't ask.”

Bowser had been so baffled by the whole thing that he just said “okay” and let it drop.

Tonight was going a lot better. They both had plenty to catch up on, and there was always the weather to complain about. It had been raining off and on all month.

The food was good too. Whoever Luigi’s friend was, they’d picked a good spot. Bowser would have to bring Luigi here again and make sure he knew Bowser was paying so he wouldn’t grimace like that at the prices.

He still planned to pay tonight, but he hadn’t managed to tell Luigi that beforehand. And when the check came Luigi reached for it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Don’t you dare,” Bowser said, slapping his hand down on top of Luigi’s.

“What?” Luigi asked, with a laugh. “I invited you here, so I’ll pay.”

“If it was up to me you wouldn’t have to pay for anything ever again.”

The restaurant was dimly lit, but Bowser could still see Luigi’s ears turning red. “I wouldn’t want that,” he said. “I like doing things myself.”

“That’s why it’s not up to me, isn’t it?”

The blush was rising on Luigi’s cheeks too. “It… could be up to both of us.”

“Sure,” Bowser agreed. “But you still have to let me pamper you some times. I need to make sure you want to keep putting up with me.”

“That’s not something you have to worry about.” Luigi smiled in a way that made Bowser feel like he was missing something. They were just bantering again, weren’t they?

Oh well. It didn’t matter as long as Luigi let him get the check.

They left the restaurant, Luigi snagging a mint on the way out. Bowser was already thinking of excuses to grab a few extra minutes together, when Luigi said, “Would you like to walk me home?”

“Sure,” Bowser said, a little too enthusiastically. Luigi didn’t seem to notice, he didn’t even blink, just popping the mint in his mouth and leading the way.

It was a long walk, but neither of them had said anything about catching the subway. They walked along the damp streets, under streetlights and past shops shutting down for the night.

“Y’know, this is familiar,” Bowser said.

“It’s like the night we first met,” Luigi said. He wrapped his arms around his torso. “Getting colder though. It’s already fall.”

“Oh right, yeah.” It wasn’t even close to their first meeting, but it was still the first time he’d had something like a civil conversation with him. Not to mention it all led to where they were now… “I had ulterior motives then,” Bowser said.

Luigi chuckled. “They weren’t ulterior! You told me about it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He was already starting to lose track of the secrets. This was bad. “I regret doing that now,” Bowser said, honestly. “Treating you like a… an obstacle.”

“If you hadn’t, we never would have met.” Luigi had moved closer to him as they walked, their arms sometimes bumping together. “So I hope you don’t regret it too much.”

“I can’t,” Bowser said, another truth. “I wouldn’t take it back if you paid me.”

Maybe he would have been happier if he hadn’t decided to get close to Luigi. He wouldn’t have these doomed feelings, he wouldn’t have learned about how the public saw him, he wouldn’t have known he came off as a creep…

But even if it hurt, it was better to know these things. If he hadn’t he would have just gone on blindly making things worse.

Luigi scooted even closer, until his sleeve was brushing Bowser’s knuckles with every step.

“You cold?” Bowser asked.

“A little,” Luigi admitted, a sheepish smile flashing across his face as he moved away.

“Sorry I didn’t wear a hoodie this time.” He’d changed the outfit on his disguise since they were going somewhere nicer this time. It was pretty much the same thing the guy he’d borrowed this face from was wearing the day they scanned him. White bread business casual.

That was good though, because the hoodie would have vanished into thin air the moment Bowser got home and deactivated the watch. If he hadn’t remembered to take it back when he left that would have been hard to explain. Hey, don’t worry that you ‘lost’ my hoodie, it wasn’t real in the first place.

“It’s okay,” Luigi said. “You, um, you look nice tonight.”

“Thanks,” Bowser said. He always had to remind himself not to show how awkward those compliments made him feel. He tried to take it as praise of his crafting abilities instead.

Come to think of it, Luigi had been complimenting him a lot lately. What was the deal with that? Bowser was very complimentary toward Luigi, but at first that was because he was trying to build up his confidence, and after that it was because he genuinely felt that way.

As they kept walking the conversation turned to clothes, and books, and school (though Bowser moved away from that one as soon as he could). It was nothing important, but Bowser wouldn’t have given it up for the world.

Finally they reached Luigi’s building, and Bowser could see the reluctance on Luigi’s face too. He caught his hand as he started to step away, before he disappeared into the fluorescent light.

“I had a good time,” Bowser said.

“So did I,” Luigi said. “I… I always have a good time with you.”

“That can’t be true,” Bowser said with a smile. “I’m a lousy date. I’ve been reliably informed.”

He saw Luigi’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “So it was a… I mean, even if it’s not always perfect, I always want to see you. I- I really care about you.”

“Me too,” Bowser said, softly. That was why it was going to hurt to have to pull away from him.

But he’d do it. He’d have to. Staying would only be worse.

“You were there for me when I really needed someone,” Luigi said, his voice full of emotion.

Bowser winced. “That shouldn’t count. Ulterior motives, remember?”

“You were still there. And you stayed by me, despite everything. You’re here right now.”

Luigi squeezed his hand. Bowser had almost forgotten he was holding it.

“I guess… What I’m trying to say is…” Luigi’s mustache twitched as his mouth twisted beneath it. “Bend over.”

“Huh?”

“Just bend over? Please?”

Bowser shrugged, and obeyed, and suddenly Luigi had thrown an arm around his neck and kissed him.

He froze. Like a Boo in headlights, he couldn’t move a muscle. There was the unfamiliar - but not unpleasant - feeling of hair under his nose, and soft lips and the taste of mint- Wait, was that why Luigi had taken that mint? Should Bowser have grabbed one too?

Luigi let go after a much-too-short second, his eyes wide, nervous, and said, “Is-”

Bowser didn’t let him get further. Finally his body caught up with his brain, and he wrapped his arms around Luigi’s waist and pulled him back in. His mouth pressed so hard against Luigi’s that he bit the inside of his own lip, but Luigi was kissing him back, clutching his shirt with one hand while the other still had a death grip on the back of his neck.

God, how Bowser had wanted this. Dreamed of it, a couple times, embarrassing as that was. The reality of it was more awkward, but so much better too. The feeling of Luigi in his arms, on his tongue, of knowing that this was real. This was actually happening.

This was happening.

Bowser pulled back, breathless, but he couldn’t find the words. What was he supposed to do now?

Luigi was winded too, but he managed to say, “D’you want to come upstairs?”

He’d never asked that before. Never offered. They always had to find somewhere to hang out in public instead of at one of their homes, and now, finally, Luigi was willing to open up to him.

“I… can’t,” Bowser said, through a stiff jaw. It was hard enough to say no to Luigi on a normal day, much less when he was rejecting what he’d wanted for months.

Disappointment flashed across Luigi’s face, but the tips of his mustache - now mussed - rose in a forced smile. “Okay. It is getting late, you must need to get home.”

“No,” Bowser said. He pulled his hands away and straightened up. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

Luigi’s face fell. “I- I don’t understand. Did I misread something, or…”

“No, no, you didn’t. But I can’t.”

“Can you… tell me why?” Luigi had never looked this hurt before. Not even when Bowser had thrown him through walls. “Is it because I’m-”

“It’s not you,” Bowser said quickly. “It’s nothing to do with you, I promise. It’s all me.”

He took a breath. Luigi looked like he might start crying, and Bowser couldn’t blame him. He’d put himself out there only to get soundly rejected.

“If you don’t want me,” Luigi said quietly, “then why did you kiss me?”

Bowser put his hand against his mouth and gave a dry laugh. There was no good answer for that. “Because I’m weak.”

Because, for just a second, he’d thought to himself that this was his only chance.

“I’m sorry,” Bowser said again. “I’d still like to be friends, but if you don’t… I understand.”

In a way, this might be good. It would be the cleanest break he could hope for. It was going to hurt in the end no matter what, might as well rip off the band-aid, right?

But he didn’t want that. He wanted every single day with Luigi he could get.

“I… I should go,” Luigi said, avoiding his eyes. His were already gleaming. “Um. Goodnight.”

“Yeah. Yeah. G’night, greenie.”

Luigi twitched, but he didn’t say anything. He just turned and walked into the building, taking Bowser’s heart with him. Bowser tried to tell himself he hadn’t seen Luigi wipe his eyes as he disappeared into the lobby.

All Bowser could do was stand there, staring at the building until he saw a new window light up, knowing that all of this was his own damn fault.

Chapter Text

It was a bad night. And a bad morning. And a bad lunch break that bled into a bad afternoon. All day Luigi's thoughts swirled around the same question: why?

Why had Bernie rejected him? Why had Bernie kissed him, holding onto him like a lifeline, and then pushed him away? Why had Luigi been foolish enough to kiss Bernie even though Bernie had denied flirting with him back when Luigi asked?

None of it made sense. He went to his day's appointments, worked on autopilot, thought through dozens of scenarios, and still none of it made sense.

He'd started to text Bernie several times throughout the day. He'd gotten so used to chatting with him all the time that his hands forgot what his brain was still caught up on.

Then Luigi was back in his lonely apartment, preparing for another evening of watching the news and trying to pretend he wasn't praying for the phone to ring. If Mario did call, what could he say? You were right? I messed up? Please come home and comfort me?

Dwelling on it wasn't helping, he knew that much. He needed to talk to someone. And though he was closer to Peach, it felt weird to ask for relationship advice from someone whose most recent relationship was your own brother.

So he texted Daisy, asking if they could talk, and he was only partway through the explanation before she asked if she could come over.

Well… Why not? She already knew enough about him to hurt him if she wanted to.

Daisy showed up twenty minutes later with two pints of ice cream. It was a cliche, but Luigi had to admit it felt good to be pampered like this.

“I didn't know if you had dietary concerns, so this one's gluten- and dairy-free,” Daisy said, raising one of the cartons.

“I appreciate the thought,” Luigi said, taking the pint from her other hand. “But I'm Italian. If I stop eating gluten you might as well just put me down because something is very wrong.”

“Suicide jokes are bad for your mental health,” Daisy said as Luigi led her to what passed for the kitchen. “So is self-deprecation, before you say something like ‘sorry guess I'm just an asshole.’”

“I wasn't going to, but good to know. Did you do research before you came over?” He hoped it didn't come out as bitter as he felt.

“No, this is more social media stuff. Half the sites I have to use are depressed millennials, and the other half are tweenagers being brainwashed into overplucking their eyebrows.”

At least Luigi wasn't the only one who sounded bitter.

“He's married,” Daisy said, once Luigi finally finished telling her the full story.

“He's not married,” Luigi said.

“I know he told you he wasn't, and it's not your fault for trusting him, but yeah he's definitely married.” She was sitting on his couch in sweatpants, feet pulled up, eating ice cream with a serving spoon. But she said it with all the gravitas of a 50-year-old twice-divorcee.

“He's not married,” Luigi repeated. “I'm sure of it. Married guys can't just drop everything to get coffee or dinner with someone else.”

“They can if they planned an excuse for it!” Daisy said. “Or maybe his spouse works a lot and wouldn't notice. This might be a routine scheme for him.”

Luigi shook his head. He’d grown up with a big family, and he’d worked with enough contractors to know which ones had someone at home looking after them. Bernie was definitely single. “Okay, let's say you're right and he is married. If this was all a plan to have an affair with me, why didn't he go through with it?”

“Easy,” Daisy said, waving her spoon like a conductor’s baton. “He fell in love with you for real. You're adorable, it would be hard not to.”

Luigi smiled, in spite of himself. “You make this sound like a bad romance novel.”

“Most real relationships would make bad romance novels. There's too much talking and, like, emotional availability.”

“It’s a nice theory, but it doesn’t make sense.”

“What does?” Daisy asked.

Luigi didn’t have an answer.

They talked for a while, about Luigi’s problems and about bad relationships and about cheesy romcoms, when a chime went off and Daisy glanced at her phone. Her job was social media, so Luigi wasn’t bothered by it, but she suddenly sat up and grinned at him.

“I know something that might cheer you up,” Daisy said, showing him the screen. There was a pop-up with a red border and text about a break-in at an address near the edge of the city.

“What is this? Police alerts?”

“Do you not have this?” Daisy asked, surprised. “How do you know when stuff’s going on, then?”

“It’s usually pretty obvious!”

“Well you’ll like this part.” She scrolled down a bit, and Luigi saw the last lines mention that the security cameras near the address had caught a particularly large koopa with horns. “C’mon, don’t you want to let some of that anger out?”

Luigi snatched his hand away from the phone, like it would burn him. “I’m not angry. ”

“Aren’t you?” Daisy asked, looking surprised. “I would be.”

“No! I mean, I don’t think…” He hesitated. Why was it so hard to decipher his own feelings? “I’m hurt but I’m not angry.”

“Well I’m going to go stop Bowser from whatever he’s doing,” Daisy said. “If you don’t feel up to it that’s fine, but don’t you want to do a superhero team-up?”

Luigi didn’t want to tell her the truth. He was used to working in a team, partnering with someone else would feel wrong.

But sitting around the apartment wasn’t helping either. Might as well get some fresh air.

The address turned out to be a huge low building in the middle of a parking lot, looking strange and squat beneath all taller buildings. There weren’t any skyscrapers on the edge of the city, but it was still rare to see anything less than three storeys.

They were lucky it wasn’t raining. The meteorologist on the evening news had given up talking about anything else, and every day had at least a fifty percent chance. Supposedly it was only going to get worse next week.

Even with good weather it was hard to sneak up to a place surrounded by empty parking spaces (which was probably how Bowser had been spotted so quickly), but they kept low and avoided the streetlights. This was not the first time Luigi had lamented the choice of white costumes. Daisy, in mostly yellow, wasn’t better off.

Once they got up next to the building, they both stood there in silence. Luigi realized after a few seconds that he had been waiting for Daisy to give him an order, and that she was probably waiting for the same about him.

“Split up,” Luigi said, “look for a broken door or lock, but don’t go inside. We’ll meet up on the other side and compare notes.”

“Right,” Daisy said. She held out her hand, palm down, and Luigi copied her curiously. She put her hand on top of his and pressed it down before releasing it. “Ready… break!”

He laughed. Of course she was a sports girl.

The building was so big that it took several minutes just to get between each entry point. Luigi didn’t find any signs of a break-in halfway down his side, and was starting to wonder if he even knew what he was looking for, when he heard metal clattering and something shatter in the distance.

It was too far, Luigi couldn’t tell if it was coming from inside or out. He broke into a jog and only scanned each door as he ran past. Bowser wasn’t that tech-savvy, was he? Surely he wouldn’t know how to break in without leaving some kind of evidence.

Luigi reached the back of the building with no sign of Daisy’s yellow suit, and the knowledge that he hadn’t seen anyone in at least fifteen minutes sank in. Wasn’t there security here?

Screw it. He was a superhero. They were allowed a little breaking and entering, right?

It only took a brief jolt to short out the electronic lock on the next door, and Luigi was strong enough to break the deadbolt and force it open. Inside the building was dark, no windows, only a few beams of red light coming from emergency exit signs. At least Luigi’s eyes were already mostly adjusted from outside.

He moved through tall metal shelving units until he heard thumping and raised voices, and then started running. It was like a maze, and the lack of light wasn’t helping. More than once Luigi ended up in a dead end, or tripped over a table. Once he was afraid he might have kicked a rat. He kicked something that squeaked, at least.

Finally the voices turned into actual yelling, and Luigi was able to follow the sound until he found a few of the metal shelves knocked over, and there-

Bowser was strung up, wrapping in vines and dangling from the rafters like a pinata, or an ugly lamp… or some images Luigi had seen in passing online. Daisy was holding on to the other end, vines wrapped around her hands and feet braced on the floor.

“Listen, yellow one,” Bowser was saying, struggling against his bonds. He was spinning slowly, and he and Daisy were both out of breath, as if they’d just stopped fighting. “I do not need this tonight. Just let me go and we’ll call it a draw.”

“Why would I do that?” Daisy said. “Thank you for calling me yellow, though.”

“What?” Bowser looked and sounded so baffled that Luigi couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Super Green?” Daisy said.

Bowser jerked in his bonds, making him sway along with spinning.

Luigi waved from behind the pile of fallen boxes and metal. “I’m kind of stuck,” he said.

“We made a mess,” Daisy admitted. “Hey, what is this place anyway?”

“It’s a fulfillment center,” Luigi said. He’d noticed the signs on the way in. “You know? When you order stuff online, this is where it’s stored and packaged.”

“We have one of those?” Daisy asked.

“It’s a city,” Bowser growled. “We’ve got three.”

“I don’t do much online shopping,” Daisy said, defensively.

“Why the hell are both of you here?” Bowser demanded. He winced and turned his face away as his spin pointed him in Luigi’s direction.

“Not happy to see me this time?” Luigi asked.

“Always happy to see you, greenie,” he said, unconvincingly. “Just wondering if I should be jealous.”

“Whoa,” Daisy said, glancing back and forth between them. “I didn’t know you guys did that kind of banter.”

“It’s new,” Luigi said. “I don’t like it.”

“Liar,” Bowser said. He squirmed in the vines again, muscles of his arms tensing and flexing. “Hey, can somebody let me go already? I’m starting to get dizzy.”

“You’re a criminal, why would we let you go?” Daisy scoffed. “I don’t know why - or how - you broke in here, but I’m sure it wasn’t for anything good.”

Bowser gave one of his rumbly chuckles. “Good for you or good for me, yellow one?”

“Wait, Dai- Super Yellow,” Luigi said. She beamed at him. “How did you get in? And why didn’t you meet up with me like we agreed?”

“I heard him bumping around in here!” Daisy said. “I couldn’t just let him get away.”

“It wasn’t safe!”

“I’ve fought him before, I know what I’m doing.”

Bowser chimed in, “Yeah she’s a tough cookie, greenie. Don’t be sexist.”

“That’s not what this is about!” Luigi exclaimed, feeling his face get hot.

“I think calling me a cookie is more sexist than being concerned about my safety,” Daisy said.

“Shit. My bad, sorry Yellow.”

She blinked, surprised at the genuine apology. “Oh. It’s okay.” Daisy turned back to Luigi. “See?”

“You think I trust him?” Luigi snapped. 

“Hey!” Bowser exclaimed.

“The point is, if we agreed to something you have to follow it!”

“I was fine!” Daisy said. “And you found us no problem.”

“That’s not how teamwork works!” Luigi said. He was getting more and more flustered as she refused to understand. “You don’t get to run off ahead and throw yourself into danger while I don’t even know where you are or if you’re safe!”

There were a few seconds of silence, before Luigi realized Daisy and Bowser were giving him identical looks of sympathy… albeit upside-down, in Bowser’s case.

“I’m sorry,” Daisy said. “I’m new to working with a partner. I won’t do it again.”

“G- good,” Luigi said, hating how warm his face still felt. “Then, what do we do with him?”

Bowser averted his eyes from Luigi again.

He was acting strange tonight…

“What do you usually do when you catch him?” Daisy asked. “Tie him up somewhere and wait for the police?” Luigi noticed her wind the vines around her hands another time. The weight must be getting to her. Even humans with extra strength tended to have a lot of variation in how strong they were. 

“We- I usually don’t catch him, just stop whatever his plan is.” Luigi glanced at Bowser, who had stopped swaying, though the spinning was staying consistent. “There isn’t really much point in tying him up. He can break out of most things we’re strong enough to bend.”

Bowser chuckled.

“My vines are stretchy,” Daisy said, proud. “He won't be able to snap them.”

Luigi glanced around again, looking for a clear path around the broken shelving, and finally gave up and just started climbing over.

“Hey, that’s somebody’s stuff, you know,” Bowser said.

“The place is shut down for the night, anything that’s due to be shipped would be at the loading dock.”

“I hate how much you know,” Bowser muttered, sighing.

Luigi had just been guessing, but it was oddly gratifying to know Bowser thought of him as a smart guy.

He hopped down from the pile and onto the bare concrete floor, and approached the suspended Bowser. As his face slowly drifted past, Luigi reached out and grabbed one of his horns, stopping his momentum and forcing him to look at him.

“What are you doing here?” Luigi asked.

“Straight to the point as always, greenie.” Bowser smiled, but there was something awkward about it. “This is a terrible angle for you, by the way. All I'm seeing right now is hair and nose.”

Luigi ignored him. “What was your target?”

“Hate to disappoint you, but I was just out for a walk.”

“So you broke into a fulfillment center?”

“Who says I broke in? The yellow one didn’t see any signs of a break-in, and neither did you, right?”

“I know you don’t work here, so if you had a passcard it wasn’t yours.”

“I could work here. What are you, HR?”

Luigi gestured around them. “I barely fit between some of these shelves, they wouldn’t hire someone your size.”

“No…” Bowser said, darkly. “They wouldn’t, would they.”

Luigi ignored the curl of guilt in his stomach and turned to Daisy, who was looking up at the rafters with her lips pursed. “Super Yellow, where was Bowser when you found him?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, down sort of that way,” she tilted her head to her left.

“Why don't I take over where you are, and you can go investigate what he might have been stealing.”

Daisy shook her head. “It's better if I hold on to the vines. I'm controlling them with my powers, if I let go they just turn into normal plants.”

“They're thick, and you said they stretched, so they can hold him can't they? And you actually tied them in knots?”

Daisy nodded. “We had rodeo games at horse camp, I know how to do a hogtie.”

Of course she was a horse girl. “You look like you need a break,” Luigi said. “I'll take the reins-” Daisy giggled, Bowser rolled his eyes. “- and you look for clues, okay?”

“Okay.”

They passed off the vines, Daisy’s fingers red and swollen. She really should be wearing gloves, if only to keep her fingerprints off the inevitable property damage. But this wasn't the time to say that, so Luigi just wrapped the vines around his hands like she had and kept his eyes on Bowser.

Thankfully Bowser hadn't started spinning again once Luigi let go, though that did leave Luigi staring at his tail and left leg instead of his face. If he wanted to continue the interrogation he needed that intimidation factor. Luigi was a lot of things, but “intimidating” wasn't usually one of them.

So he worked his way to the side, letting the vines unwind a little bit at a time so they wouldn't go slack. There was a worrying creak from the rafters just as Luigi reached Bowser's sightline, but it stopped once he stopped moving.

“You're enjoying this too much,” Bowser said, mildly.

“I think I'm enjoying it exactly the right amount.”

“I'm not saying there's nothing exciting about having a couple of cute humans tie me up, but-”

“Shut up,” Luigi said, yanking on the vines. The rafter creaked again.

Bowser raised his eyebrows, but shut up.

Despite the fact that it worked, Luigi felt bad about his outburst. “Not tonight, okay? I understand that you only say this stuff to piss me off, but I'm not in the mood tonight.”

“Okay,” Bowser said, softly.

It really wasn't fair how much Bowser reminded Luigi of Bernie. It must be a regional accent or something, because even though Bowser's voice was deeper they spoke exactly the same. Even their body language, sometimes… The way Bowser was avoiding his eyes right now reminded Luigi of the way Bernie had last night. When he was rejecting Luigi.

Without thinking about it, Luigi tugged on the vines again, and this time Bowser hissed. “Okay, that does actually hurt.”

“Good,” Luigi said. Though he loosened up his grip and let the vines descend a little.

Even with that rafter acting as a pulley, Bowser weighed upwards of a thousand pounds. He was solid muscle, and the shell was so thick it hadn't cracked in any of the airship crashes Luigi knew he'd been in. It was no wonder Daisy had been struggling - it was impressive she'd hauled him off the ground at all.

“I'll ask again,” Luigi said. “What did you come here for?”

“Does that really matter?” Bowser asked, rolling his eyes. “Breaking in is still a crime either way.”

“Okay then, how did you break in?”

“Didn't,” Bowser said. “And you can't prove I did.”

“Come on!” Luigi exclaimed, dismayed to discover it came out in a whine. “We both know you're not innocent here.”

“I haven't been innocent since I was eight,” Bowser said. “But I'm not dumb enough to admit to anything without a lawyer.”

“I'm not a cop!” Luigi said. “Technically I'm a criminal too. I broke a door to get in, and most of what I do to you counts as assault.”

“Ha!” Bowser let out a laugh that seemed to take him by surprise.

“But you know the difference between you and me?” Luigi leaned forward, bringing his face so close to Bowser's that he had no choice but to look him in the eye. “People like me.”

Bowser stared him down, expression calm. “You don't think I know that?” he said.

He was not usually this cool in the face of setbacks. And it didn’t make sense that he was just hanging here without trying to escape. Yet another thing that didn’t make sense tonight…

“What are you hiding?” Luigi asked.

Bowser’s eyes widened, slightly. “I don’t- Why would I be hiding anything?”

“You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Well currently I have been hogtied and hung from the ceiling like a damn hunk of meat, so I’m not having a great night. How are you?”

“Bad,” Luigi said. There was no point in lying about it.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” Bowser said. He sounded sarcastic, but for some reason his expression relaxed a little. “So, hey, the yellow one.”

Luigi narrowed his eyes and tightened the vine. “What about her?”

“You guys like… ‘partners’ now?” He said it with emphasis.

“We’re working together,” Luigi said, carefully. Where was he going with this? “We’re both on the same side, we should work together.”

“That’s all?”

“How’s it any of your business?” Luigi snapped.

“It’s not!” Bowser exclaimed, his voice rising a little. “Why should I care?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t!”

“What-”

Daisy’s footsteps made them both stop, Luigi feeling guilty for getting worked up again. He saw Bowser avert his eyes, looking guilty too. Like a child who’d been caught misbehaving.

“I couldn’t figure anything out,” Daisy said. She’d pulled out her phone to use as a flashlight. That was dangerous, she shouldn’t be bringing it with her on hero jobs. “It was just where they keep all the boxes and packaging stuff.”

“Maybe he hadn’t gotten started yet,” Luigi said. “It’s not your fault you don’t have a criminal mindset.”

Bowser snorted.

“He was here for a long time before we got here though,” Daisy said. “What could he have been doing?”

“Do you hero types always overthink this much?” Bowser asked. “It’s dark in here, I got lost. Sue me.”

“So you admit you were here for nefarious reasons!” Daisy exclaimed, turning her flashlight on Bowser.

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut. “That is just uncalled for, yellow.”

“Oh geez I forgot it was on, sorry, one sec.”

Daisy fumbled with her phone, finally turning the light off and plunging all of them into darkness.

And then the vine in Luigi’s hands went slack.

There was a snap, and a thump, and Bowser’s laughter rang out. Luigi ran toward the voice and immediately tripped over the pile of torn vines that had been holding Bowser only a few seconds ago. Dammit, how did he get loose? Luigi didn't see him do anything with his hands, and the vines really were too stretchy to burst out of.

“Go left, I’ll go right!” Luigi said, pulling himself to his feet.

“Right!” came Daisy’s voice in the darkness.

They could see - and hear - Bowser moving through the facility outlined in red. He wasn’t quiet at the best of times, and the metallic scraping from the shelf units sounded like his shell was only barely squeezing through his escape path.

“Green!” Daisy shouted.

Luigi looked up in time to see two thick lines pass over one of the emergency lights, and grabbed the newly-grown vines out of the air. With Daisy holding onto the other end they both ran forward, Daisy vaulted over a table and Luigi swerved right, and caught up to Bowser just as he was about to duck between two more rows of shelves.

“What the-”

Bowser tried to swipe at Luigi as he ran past, but he didn’t notice the vines until it was too late. Luigi and Daisy criss-crossed around each other until he was thoroughly wrapped up, and Luigi tied off his ends behind Bowser’s back.

“Oh come on,” Bowser groaned. “You just tried this!”

“And we’ll try it again,” Daisy said. 

“I give up already, all right?” Bowser said. “I’m not gonna get what I came for, and this isn’t fun anymore. Just escort me out or whatever.”

Luigi nodded, and turned to Daisy, but she’d already tossed her end of the vine up into the ceiling, once again hoisting Bowser off his feet. He grunted something that sounded like a swear.

“This is a bad idea,” Bowser said, warningly.

The rafter was already creaking. The last one had at least taken a few minutes. In fact… was that how he’d gotten free? The vine didn’t snap, the rafter did?

“He might be right, Super Yellow,” Luigi said. “Maybe we should-”

“No way!” Daisy exclaimed. “I’m not letting our first collab end so boring.”

“Our duty is to stop people like Bowser, not to punish them.” The rafter creaked again, long and low, like an old building in the wind. “We’ve already caused enough damage.”

Daisy gave a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right… And it’s still a victory.”

“It is,” Luigi assured her.

They lowered Bowser the couple feet to the floor, and both took a length of vine as a leach to keep him from running.

“Which door did you come in?” Daisy asked. “I was back over by the boxes.”

“Let’s go out that way,” Luigi said. He wanted to take another look and see if he could spot anything she hadn’t.

“I get a say in this?” Bowser asked.

“No,” they said in unison.

“Didn’t think so,” he muttered.

They all started walking together, but they hadn’t made it more than a step before there was another creak, this one sharper, and Luigi opened his mouth to say they should hurry.

He didn’t manage to get a word out before Bowser shoulder-checked him, knocking him across the floor, and spun around to smack Daisy away with his tail. Luigi heard Bowser exclaim, “Run, idiots!” and just barely raised his head before the ceiling caved in.

Without thinking, Luigi threw himself forward. Daisy was still new at this, and Bowser’s arms were tied to his sides, he couldn’t protect himself. Luigi was the senior hero, he had to save them.

But as he reached out his hands to catch the falling beam, a much larger arm shot out above him and punched it out of the way before it hit. Luigi found himself pulled against Bowser’s chest while the world collapsed around them. The sounds went on for what felt like several minutes as Luigi’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. Or was that Bowser’s?

Finally it stopped, and Luigi was released. There were still vines clinging to Bowser, but most of them had fallen around his feet and Luigi could see dark marks on his skin where he’d torn out of them. Bowser couldn’t do that to save himself, but he could do it to save-

Luigi looked up at Bowser’s face, and found him once again avoiding Luigi’s eyes.

“Oy! Yellow! You dead?” Bowser called.

Daisy’s hand waved from the other side of a pile of what used to be ceiling tiles. “You knocked me clear. That was quick work! You ever thought about switching teams?”

“I swing both ways, Yellow, didn’t you know?”

There wasn’t a hole in the roof, but the rafters and a few light fixtures had fallen in. Bowser stomped his way over the rubble and helped Daisy up, and Luigi followed, feeling oddly out of place. He wasn’t used to being saved.

“Thank you,” Daisy said. “Uh, why’d you do that, though? You’d have been fine, so why’d you knock us out of the way?” She must not have seen that Bowser did much more than that for Luigi…

“Are you kid- I’m not an asshole!” Bowser exclaimed. Before either of them could rebut that, he corrected, “Okay I’m an asshole. But I’m not a monster! You humans are so squishy compared to koopas, I’d feel like shit if I let you get crushed. Don’t read too far into it.”

“Fine, I won’t then!”

“Fine!”

All three of them surveyed the damage.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Daisy said, making a face.

“Yep. And it’s not my fault for once!” Bowser said, cheerily. He clapped Daisy on the shoulder. “This has really improved my day, thanks Yellow.”

“At least I did something right.” Daisy lowered her face into her hands and groaned.

Luigi awkwardly patted her other shoulder. “Let’s um, let’s go back to my place and finish that ice cream?”

Daisy nodded, silently.

They didn’t say anything else to Bowser on the way out - he was leaving without complaint, and whatever he wanted to steal from the building was small potatoes compared to knocking down half the ceiling - but Luigi noticed him watching them with narrowed eyes.

Cheering Daisy up at least gave Luigi something to think about other than his problems with Bernie, plus the conflict they both felt about being protected by Bowser of all people.

Why had he done that? He must know that Luigi could handle himself in a crisis. But the way he’d actually protected Luigi with his body, as if he cared or something…

It was guilt. It had to be. Bowser still thought he’d killed Mario, so he didn’t want to wipe out the other half of the duo. He’d looked pretty stricken back a few months ago when Luigi made a joke about it.

Okay, one mystery solved. Now if he could just stop obsessing about all the others.

Trying to fall asleep, Luigi gave in to temptation and did the thing everyone had been warning him against for weeks. He read the comments.

It wasn’t the first time, though he had tried to stop after the first time Bernie said not to. It was just… Most of the comments were nice! He liked knowing he’d made people’s days a little brighter. It made it feel worth it to put effort in.

There were haters, of course. And bots. He’d tried blocking those at first, but there were too many of them. Maybe someday he’d need an intern after all. The ones that weren’t asking for money or trying to sell porn always seemed to be trying to start fights. He’d gotten used to seeing comments like “I disagree, and here’s why” about something he hadn’t even said.

Still. Most of them were real, and most of them were encouraging. Just like being a hero, Luigi liked to know he was helping people.

As he mindlessly scrolled past dozens of comments wishing him a good day and thanking him for his work (and a handful calling him slurs) Luigi’s thumb stopped above an icon of a red-haired man.

Bernard S. -
My family visited a few years ago, wish we could have seen you then!

The name. Bernard. Bernie had said it, back when they properly introduced themselves. And that face, that hair… It couldn’t be a coincidence, surely, but the comment… What was Bernie’s last name, anyway?

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe the resemblance was superficial, icons were pretty small after all. Luigi sat up so he could see better, and clicked on the profile.

It was pretty normal. Bernard S. was a family man, with a wife and two daughters. From the photos it seemed like he worked in an office, since he was usually dressed in business casual. He liked his local sports teams, and movies, not even a particular genre, just “movies.” If Luigi knew him he’d probably think he was kind of boring…

And he looked exactly like Bernie.

He didn’t wear glasses, or a collar, or piercings, or dress in mostly black and red, but the face was identical. Luigi had spent far too long thinking about that face not to recognize it.

For a moment, he wondered if these were old pictures and this was Bernie pretending that his marriage hadn't failed. But he checked the wife’s account too, and it was the same, except replacing “sports” with “foreign romance dramas.” Besides, Bernie wasn’t dumb enough to comment on one of Luigi’s posts like that.

So, how? How could there be two people with the same face? Okay, Luigi was a twin, it wasn’t like he didn’t know the obvious explanation. But the same name too? Nobody would give twins the exact same name, and outside of sitcoms identical cousins were not real.

Someone was lying. The only question was, how much?

And if Luigi already felt this devastated, how was he going to feel when he found out the truth?

It took a few days for Luigi to work up the courage to contact Bernie. He hadn’t been able to sleep much at all, and when he was awake he felt too worried to eat, which only made him feel more sick. It got so bad that he canceled all the jobs he hadn’t already ordered parts for. One of the few remaining clients even asked if he was okay.

But finally, finishing up around five and getting stuck in rush-hour traffic, Luigi texted Bernie at a red light before he could chicken out.

We need to talk.

It was mean, but he wanted Bernie to worry for a while too.

Bernie replied right away, but Luigi had to wait for his stomach to settle before he could check it. When he did he was disappointed.

when and where?

Okay. Okay. Getting this cleared up as soon as possible was the best move. Once Luigi knew, he could… he could make his next step.

So, when: ASAP. Where: …where could they meet up? Luigi didn’t want to invite him over, not now that he wasn’t sure whether Bernie was a liar. And they definitely couldn’t meet up in a cafe, not if Luigi was going to end up crying. Or yelling. Or both.

Public but private. Well, it was evening and they were predicting rain again, not many people would still be out. Maybe the park, where they walked and talked sometimes?

It was as good a place as any. If Luigi ended up getting murdered at least he’d get found by a jogger like on TV.

He told Bernie the location, and Bernie replied, immediately, be there in 10.

Ten minutes felt like an hour when it was something you were dreading. Luigi had been right that no one was around though. With the sky covered in clouds it got dark even earlier, and everything was still damp and cold even though it hadn’t rained all day. Nobody wanted to be out on a dreary fall afternoon in the middle of a city.

Luigi found himself pacing around, arms wrapped around his middle as he tried to stave off the chill. He just needed to find out the truth. That was all that mattered. Then… then…

“Luigi.”

He jerked. The streetlights were coming on early, and Bernie had melded into the shadows until the one above him flickered to life. There it was, the face that had torn him apart.

“You… had something to say to me?” Bernie said. He looked and sounded the same as always. Like the same friend Luigi had come to trust and adore.

“What’s your last name?” Luigi blurted.

Bernie blinked. “Uh… didn’t expect that.”

“Are you married?”

“What?” Bernie said. “No!”

Luigi wasn’t sure why he’d asked that, though it would be a less painful answer than some of the ones his brain had come up with over the last couple days.

“Then why is there a man online with the same face and name as you, who’s married with two daughters in another city?”

It would have been easier if it wasn’t so obvious. Bernie’s expression froze, and then fell, shame and sorrow pouring down on him like a hurricane.

It was true. He was a liar.

“Who are you?” Luigi said, his voice coming out stiff. “Is he your twin, and you just stole his name? You told me you didn’t have any siblings, but if that’s what you lied about instead of everything else, it would almost be… be…”

“No,” Bernie said, softly. “That’s… Well, it’s not my name, that’s true. But I’m not related to him. I don’t even know him.”

“How?” Luigi said. “How do you steal a man’s entire face?”

“You remember,” the man said, sounding defeated. “That pink toad. Same as her.”

“Wh- the toadette who looked like Peach? But how do you know about-”

An ice cube dropped into the pit of Luigi’s stomach. He felt his arms go stiff, and his eyes unfocused until the man in front of him was nothing but a blur.

“No…” he heard himself say.

“Bernie’s” voice was very distant, though it could be because Luigi had never heard him speak so quietly before. “I did tell you, when we met. You even reminded me. They’re not ulterior motives if you’re open about them.”

Luigi repeated what he remembered. “Y- you wanted me to become the top hero. The figurehead. So Bowser would only have to fight one person at a time.”

Luigi swallowed, mouth bone dry.

“You work for Bowser?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Bernie said. He pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie, revealing the bulky silver watch he’d worn every single day since Luigi met him. “I am Bowser.”

He touched a button on the side of the watch, his form shuddered like malfunctioning video, and Bowser stood in Bernie’s place.

There was a few seconds of silence, then Luigi said something that would have gotten his mouth washed out at home. Even Mario might have gasped if he heard it now.

“Oh, I know that one,” Bowser said, almost managing a smile. “I looked up the swears so I’d know if you were mad at me.”

“Take a guess,” Luigi hissed.

“I know,” he said. He looked sad, and that was the worst part. How dare he be sad about this?

“So this is why you rejected me.”

“Yeah,” Bowser said. “I… I was weak, for a second, kissing you like that… But I wouldn’t have gone farther, I swear.”

“Was this fun for you?” Luigi demanded. “Was it funny how easily I fell for your lies?”

“No!” Bowser exclaimed. “And I- I lied as little as possible. Everything I told you about myself, about my family, that was-”

“You lied about who you are! Nothing is going to make that better!” Luigi took a breath and ran his hands through his hair. They were shaking. “And this is why you were acting weird at the warehouse! You weren't hiding- You were but it was this.”

“Yeah,” Bowser admitted.

“Is that why you’ve been flirting with me too? Did you- Did you actually think that if you could win me over as both, I'd forgive you?”

“No,” Bowser said, softly, sadly. His shoulders slumped and his chin dipped, every inch of him drenched in sorrow. “I knew you wouldn't. I knew all along that you would never be with the man who killed your brother.”

Pained, manic laughter bubbled up from Luigi's chest. The damn irony that the one thing Luigi didn't hold against Bowser was the thing he thought was the crux of it.

“Guess what!” Luigi clapped his hands and then pulled them apart, as if making a presentation. “Mario isn't dead! You couldn't even do that right!”

Bowser stared at him as the laughter faded into weak giggles. His face was stunned, and his eyebrows were slowly pulling down as realization sunk in.

“What?” Bowser said.

Belatedly, Luigi remembered his last sentence. “Sorry, that was mean.”

“No, no, I don't care about that,” Bowser waved his hand, life coming back into his posture. “What do you mean Mario isn't dead? I was there! I saw his corpse!”

“It was a pig carcass,” Luigi said. “Mario- he said he crashed into a butcher shop and the idea just popped into his head, so…”

“He faked his death? And you knew?”

“Not right away. He… he left me a note. Back at our apartment.”

“Wait, so you thought he was dead until you got home? He let you think he was dead?”

Luigi nodded.

Bowser’s teeth flashed and he let out a low growl. “Where is he? I'm gonna kick his ass.”

“I don't know.” Luigi couldn't stop himself, the words poured out like a broken faucet. “He's only called me three times since he disappeared and the phone number is some weird unlisted thing that rings forever when I try to call it back. And I think he's in a depression spiral or something because every time I try to get him to come home he just says he screwed up too bad and no one will ever forgive him- As if that's going to get better with time! All he's doing is delaying- Why am I telling you this?”

“Have you told anyone else? Does Peach know?”

“No, nobody. Mario asked me not to, and I…” Luigi laughed again as the irony dawned on him. “I thought it would go better if he told her himself!”

Bowser flinched.

“You!” Luigi jabbed a finger at him. “Why did you do this? Why pretend to be my friend?”

“I was your friend,” Bowser insisted. He took a step forward, and when Luigi glared at him he seemed to rethink it and retreated by two. “Look, I felt bad about it from the start - even if I tried to pretend I didn’t. I’ve never disliked you. Once I realized I cared about you, I-”

“Oh you cared,” Luigi repeated, sarcastically. “You cared so much that you let me talk about you to you.”

Bowser bared his teeth again, this time in a grimace. “It’s not like I asked you to!”

“But you let me! If you really cared, you’d have told me the truth!”

“I knew you’d hate me for it!”

“And I do!” Luigi agreed. “How could I ever forgive you for letting me make a fool of myself?”

“You weren’t a fool,” Bowser said. “I’m the one who lied.”

“Yeah, you did! You lied to my face every day for months!” Finally the anger was turning to hurt, and Luigi could feel tears choking his throat. “How could you?”

A drop landed on Luigi’s cheek, and it took a second to notice it was rain instead of him.

“How could you?” Luigi repeated.

“I’m… sorry,” Bowser said. It was the first time he’d apologized. “I… I wish I hadn’t done it. I know nothing can make it better. I am so, so sorry, Luigi.”

“I don’t care,” Luigi lied.

He wiped the raindrop off his cheek, only for it to be replaced by another, and he could feel more landing on his shoulders and head.

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” Luigi said, and realized he meant it. Seeing Bowser, fighting Bowser, all the places in this city that would remind him of the best friend he’d never had…

He reached into the pocket of his coveralls and found the coins he always carried.

“The whole point of making me the figurehead was to defeat me, right? Get me out of the way so you could move on down the list?”

Luigi threw the handful of coins to the ground, a couple of them activating and turning into spare costumes lying limply on the damp sidewalk.

“Well, you got what you wanted. You win. I quit.”

He walked away as the heavens opened, pouring down so hard that Bowser actually yelped. He might have said something more, Luigi’s name or a protest that he didn’t need to quit over this, but the rain was loud and Luigi wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything he had to say. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

All he wanted to do right now was go home, take a hot shower, crawl into bed and not move until this stopped hurting so much. It was definitely going to be another bad night. A bad week. A bad year.

At this point Luigi was starting to feel like he just had a bad life.

Chapter Text

It hadn't stopped raining. Sometimes the downpour eased up a little, but there was always at least a miserable drizzle trickling from the sky. After five days of this, Bowser was starting to worry about trenchfoot or rickets or something. Junior asked him if the sun was dead.

Bowser was pretty sure he was joking, but he made a mental note to find out if kindergarten was going to cover the solar system anytime soon.

He hadn't been sleeping great, although that was at least because he was distracted instead of stressed. Getting the information he needed hadn't been too hard, but proving it was another thing entirely. In the end he had to call in a favor from someone who had more experience with software over hardware. Now he owed them a shrink ray, and mini-mushrooms were tricky to work with.

Armed with proof of his findings, Bowser was waiting under as much cover as he could find for a response from his inside man. He couldn't hide too well or anyone who spotted him would think he was waiting to mug them - or worse. This would be a lot easier if he still had the disguise watch, but what was left of it after his… “tantrum” was the only word that fit - was small enough that he had to clean it up with a dustpan.

Anger management hadn't been much help that day.

Finally Bowser got a text from Adrien, and quickly ducked through the door when he heard it buzz. It was a newer building, forced by regulations to be inclusive to all kinds of tenants, so the hallways and elevators here were thankfully big enough to accommodate him. But they forgot the doors. They always forgot the doors.

He didn't run into anybody in the elevator, though he did pass a toad when he reached the right floor. It did a double-take, but quickly averted its eyes. Probably wouldn't call the cops.

He had fifteen minutes of wiggle room at least.

A few of the apartments had decorated their doors with little signs or welcome mats, but the one he was looking for didn't have anything but a square in front of it with slightly less wear than the floor around it. Not a good sign.

Bowser knocked, and waited.

He heard a faint scuffling on the other side, and then silence for a long moment. He could picture the face journey Luigi would be going on as he tried to process what he'd seen through the peephole.

Bowser raised his hand to knock again, and Luigi's voice came from beyond the door, “Go away.”

“Let me in,” Bowser said.

“No!” Luigi sounded offended by the suggestion. “How did you get in the building?”

“One of my minions lives here, had him buzz me in.”

“Did you plant him here to spy on me?”

“It's a coincidence! I didn't even know until I was going through payroll for-” Bowser stopped, letting out a huff. “You wanna do this through the door, where all your neighbors can see?”

“I have nothing to say to you!”

“I found your brother.”

There was a pause of several seconds. Then frantic clicking, and the door opened just enough for Luigi to peer through the crack.

“You're lying,” he said.

The chain was still locked. They both knew Bowser was strong enough that it wouldn't stop him, but he tried not to be insulted that Luigi had left it anyway. Same thing when Luigi flinched as Bowser reached back under the rim of his shell and pulled out his phone.

He'd already queued up the video, so he pressed play and held it up so Luigi could watch. A few seconds of security cam footage, showing a short man in a hooded coat walking past a pawn shop. Only a little of the man's face was visible, but if you knew him well - and Luigi and Bowser both did - it was more than enough to recognize him.

Luigi shut the door, there was more clicking, and finally he opened it all the way and stood back for Bowser to enter.

He had to duck even further and retract his spikes to fit. The apartment was small enough that Bowser decided to leave them in for now - last thing he wanted was to physically hurt Luigi after everything else he'd done to him.

And it looked like he'd done even more damage than he thought, because Luigi was clearly in the middle of packing to move. There were boxes stacked up against multiple walls, each one neatly labeled in thick black marker. Kitchen, bathroom, Luigi's Room…

Two of the three visible doors were open, but the third was closed tight. A small hand-painted sign in what looked like a child's handwriting labeled it “Mario’s Room.”

He hadn't packed up his brother's things yet. Maybe there was still time.

“Well?” Luigi said, bringing Bowser back to the moment. “Where is he?”

“Okay, so!” Bowser clapped his hands together, eager to explain this to somebody who'd appreciate it. “I remembered what you said about the unlisted phone number, and I know you guys don't have a red emergency hotline to the mayor or anything, so how would Mario get access to an unlisted phone? Especially so soon after he faked his death?”

“Where is he?” Luigi repeated. He looked tired, and his hair and mustache were as waterlogged as Bowser felt. It didn't exactly make him more intimidating, but it did remind Bowser of the tightrope he was walking here. This was already borrowed time.

“Getting to that,” Bowser said. “This city likes to pretend it's all shiny and modern, but there's still communities that fall by the wayside, there's still people who can't afford phone bills. So guess what we have?”

Luigi glared at him, but indulged, “What?”

“Working payphones.”

His eyes widened, and for a second he looked like the Luigi Bowser remembered. The one who looked at him like a friend instead of an unsightly clog he'd just pulled from a pipe.

“We do?” Luigi said. He blinked, and his brow furrowed. “Wait, Mario has been coming back to the city to call me? How? We didn't have a second car.”

“Back?” Bowser repeated. “You think he left?”

“He- he must have,” Luigi said. “I mean, why would he stay? I don’t want to stay, after- If he’s still in the city, why hasn’t he come back? Why doesn't he call me more? Why…” His jaw clenched, and Luigi said, again. “Where is he?”

Okay, that was definitely his last warning. “My old lair,” Bowser said quickly. “The one you two chased me back to three years ago, remember?”

“The- That garage?”

“It was more than a garage,” Bowser protested. “I had it all kitted out. Break room with a kitchen for the minions, locker room, showers, and I doubt anybody else bought the place because the ground was contaminated by the last owner.”

“Contaminated with what?” Luigi asked.

“Lead.”

“Oh god.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it was only in the dirt, I tested the water regularly. Wasn’t gonna take any chances with my kid.”

“That’s-” Luigi’s brow wrinkled again and he looked up at Bowser. “Wait, your kid was real?”

“Wh-” Bowser sputtered. “Of course my kid is real! I told you, I lied as little as possible!”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me! My definition of ‘as little as possible’ is ‘didn’t lie at all!’”

“You wouldn’t have talked to me if I didn’t lie to you!”

“Oh so it’s my fault for not giving you a chance? The serial kidnapper?”

Bowser pressed his hands against his eyes and growled under his breath. This wasn’t going anywhere. “That was stupid and I regret it,” Bowser said, carefully keeping his voice steady. “And you had no reason to trust me back then. I’m sorry.”

When he lowered his hands, Luigi was blinking at him.

“What?” Bowser asked.

“You really did read those anger management articles.”

“Yes and I will never forgive you for sending them to me.”

Luigi gave a huff. He was so cute when he was mad, it really wasn't fair that Bowser would never get to appreciate it. “Can we stay on topic?”

“That's my line,” Bowser said, and Luigi had the decency to look a little chagrined.

“Right, yes, okay. Your old lair.” Luigi nodded. “Mario is there? Are you sure?”

“This is the only video I’ve got,” Bowser said, handing his phone over so Luigi could watch it again. “But there’s definitely somebody in there. The blackout curtains moved a couple times and I saw lights. Didn’t want to barge in ‘cuz he might run off somewhere else.”

“Why did you think he was there at all? Just because of the payphone?”

“Payphone was the first thing,” Bowser said. “There’s only a handful left in the city, so from there I looked for ATMs from the bank you use nearby. Triangulated.”

Luigi narrowed his eyes. “How do you know what bank I use?”

“I’ve seen your debit card! We get coffee all the time!”

“Oh… right. That makes sense.”

Bowser sighed. “And I did stalk you for a while before I first approached you.”

“I knew it!” Luigi glared at him.

“Once I narrowed down the range I remembered my old lair, and that was as good a place as any to start. I know you two aren’t in touch with your parents, and I’m pretty sure you know all the same people, so there’s nobody Mario could have crashed with that wouldn’t tell you he was there. Mario knew about the lair, knew it was abandoned, and probably never thought you’d ask me for ideas on where he is.”

“Which I didn’t,” Luigi said.

“Which you didn’t,” Bowser agreed.

“How long were you watching the building?”

“Not long. Soon as I saw someone was in there I started looking for cameras nearby.”

He glanced down at the phone, the video paused on Mario mid-step, and turned it over in his hands. “This isn’t the phone you had when you hung out with me. Did you buy an affair phone?”

“I have four phones. When you run a criminal empire you don’t keep all the evidence in one place. What the hell’s an ‘affair phone’?”

“You know?” Luigi said. “In drama videos the cheater always has a secret second phone to text their mistress?”

“What the hell’s a ‘drama video’?”

Luigi blushed a little, still cute. “Never mind.”

“Why are you so hung up on this affair thing? I’m not married, and I never have been. Junior’s mom walked out on me before he even hatched.”

Luigi winced. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…” Bowser rubbed the back of his neck. “Prob’ly deserved it.”

“So, um, the lair.” Luigi passed the phone back to him again. “I think I remember where it is, but what's the address?”

“I can take you,” Bowser said.

“I'm not going to a second location with you.”

Bowser gritted his teeth, but he couldn't argue it. “Unblock me and I'll text it to you.”

“No,” Luigi said.

He groaned. “Fine, you got paper?”

Luigi glanced around at the room full of boxes, the kitchen with its empty shelves and open cupboards. “P… probably?”

“Y’know, whether you go with me or not, I'm going there too.”

“What? Why?” Luigi asked, instantly suspicious.

“I told you, I'm going to kick your brother’s ass.” Bowser popped his knuckles and shook out his hands. “Not only did he let you think he was dead, he let the whole city think I killed him. My reputation is completely sunk unless I can get him to show his face in public.”

“That's what you care about?” Luigi grumbled. “Your reputation? I thought for a villain, killing a superhero would give you more cred.”

“I've still gotta live here!” Bowser said. “And I broke my damn disguise, so I can't even do my own shopping anymore. It'll take months to get all the materials to make a new one, and none of it's cheap.” He groaned. “I'm going to have to fill so many orders…”

“You broke it?” Luigi said. “So- so it's gone. I'll never see Bernie again?”

Bowser couldn't tell if Luigi was happy or sad about that, but it felt like a punch in the gut either way. “‘Bernie’ wasn't real,” he said, hearing his own voice get lower. “It was me. It was always me.”

“I know!” Luigi exclaimed. “I just- It just feels weird. It still feels weird. Talking to you and… It's like talking to him, but it's not, too.”

“You are talking to him because he’s me,” Bowser said. Anger was building up in his chest, white-hot jealousy of a man that didn’t exist. “I’m the one who talked to you all those times, I’m the one who let you vent, I’m the one you had feelings fo-”

“Don’t!” Luigi snapped. “Don’t bring that up.”

“It’s the truth. Unless you only wanted me for my body.”

“You know I didn’t!”

“I don’t know anything!”

“Why are you here?” Luigi shouted. “Why did you come here? Why did you look for Mario, just so you could get in the door?”

“No!”

“So you could beat him up?”

“No! I want to, but if you tell me not to, I won’t.”

“What then? You didn't actually think doing this would make me forgive you?”

“Of course not,” Bowser said, anger turning to pain. “I keep saying, I know you won’t forgive me. I don’t expect that!”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re leaving!” Bowser exclaimed. He waved his hand at all the boxes. “I figured you would, after everything that’s happened here. And if you couldn’t contact your brother to tell him, you might never see him again!”

Luigi was staring up at him, still scowling, that little face scrunched up in fury. But Bowser saw the mustache move in the way he knew meant Luigi was chewing his lip.

“That’s it?”

Bowser let out a breath. “Is it so hard to believe I care about you? I do. I could use other words but I know you don’t want to hear it.”

“I…” Luigi averted his eyes, blush creeping up his cheeks. “I don’t need to. I already know.”

“If you want me to leave right now, I will,” Bowser said. “I’ll write down the address and I’ll go. I just… I had to do this. I couldn’t let it end the way it did last time.”

“I wanted it to,” Luigi said, softly.

Bowser felt his heart clench in his chest.

Luigi took a deep breath and pushed his hands through his hair. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Huh?”

“I have to at least shave, I don’t want Mario to know what happened… not yet.”

“Oh, uh. I would, but I probably don’t have much longer until the cops come knocking. One of your neighbors saw me.”

Luigi sighed. “Fine, I’ll shave on the way.” He pointed at Bowser. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh! Okay!”

If Luigi hadn’t already packed up the tools and supplies, Bowser wouldn’t have fit in the back of the van. He kept having thoughts like that, if this hadn’t happened in exactly this way, I wouldn’t be going to see my brother right now. If Bowser hadn’t lied, if Luigi hadn’t confronted him, if they hadn’t both developed feelings they shouldn’t have… It felt weird.

Luigi shaved at red lights, Bowser watching him curiously over the back of the seats. Koopas didn’t grow hair except on their scalp, and even that was fairly rare. With the rain still drizzling over the city Luigi probably shouldn’t be taking risks like this, but it wasn’t the first time he’d had to multi-task. All that mattered was looking presentable when the client opened their door - how you got that way didn’t matter.

They didn’t talk much before they got close to the lair and Luigi asked for directions. Bowser answered easily, making Luigi wonder how often he’d driven this way. Come to think of it, did Bowser have a car? “Bernie” had always walked or taken the subway.

“You don’t remember the way at all?” Bowser asked.

“Why would I? We only came here once, and we felt bad about it. I don’t know how Mario remembered.”

“You felt bad about it?” Bowser sounded surprised.

“We didn’t think you had employees! If the minions come with you on heists that’s one thing, but those guys were just working.”

“A lot of them did quit after that,” Bowser said thoughtfully. “When you two never followed me again, I thought I’d just gotten better at escaping.”

“No. No you hadn’t.”

Bowser chuckled.

Only a few minutes later they reached the building, and Luigi kept driving.

“What’s happening?” Bowser asked.

“I just… don’t want to park too close,” Luigi said. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Okay,” Bowser said.

Luigi circled the block, looking for the least obtrusive place to leave the van. Nothing jumped out at him, so he circled again. And again.

“You’re stalling,” Bowser said.

“Maybe,” Luigi snapped. “I’m- This is a lot, okay! I need to choose my words carefully.”

“Uh-huh,” Bowser said.

“I don’t want him to think I’m mad at him.”

“Except you are,” Bowser said. “Everything made a lot more sense after you told me Mario wasn’t dead. That night we first talked, you were hucking nasty old food at his statue. You were pissed.”

“Okay,” Luigi said, his voice cracking. “Okay maybe I was pissed that night. But I’m not mad! You- you can’t be mad at someone for having a breakdown.”

“Of course you can,” Bowser said. “You can be mad for any reason, and your feelings are always valid. What matters is what you do with it.”

“Are you quoting your anger management course at me right now?”

“You sent it to me! This is your fault!” Bowser leaned forward so Luigi could see his face in the rearview mirror. “I think you need to be honest.”

“He’s emotionally vulnerable.”

“And hiding the truth won’t change that. He won’t come back because he thinks everyone will hate him, right? So he needs to know that continuing to hide is also making someone hate him.”

“I don’t hate him!” Luigi exclaimed. “I could never hate him.”

“Come oooon. Give in to your anger.”

“Now you’re quoting Star Wars.”

“And?”

Luigi looked up at the mirror as he rounded the block once again, and was startled to realize he was smiling.

He parked in front of a broken meter, and sat there for a moment, trying to fix his hair. At least this mess he could blame on the rain.

“Do I get to come or do I wait in the car like a sad dog?” Bowser asked.

“You can come,” Luigi said. He took a deep breath, and reached for the door.

He’d forgotten an umbrella, or even a jacket, but the rain was currently at drizzle level so it wasn’t that bad. Luigi hugged his arms to his chest and Bowser stuck close to his back, and he tried to tell himself it was a coincidence and Bowser wasn’t consciously trying to shelter him.

The building really had been a garage once. Bowser had modified it a lot, Luigi remembered that from the fight, but there were several entrances and a big garage door in the front. Luigi hesitated, not sure where to go, until Bowser took his arm and guided him around the back.

“You sure?” Luigi asked, barely above a whisper.

“This door’s closest to the break room. And look,” Bowser pointed at the ground. Mud was tracked all the way up to the door frame, some of it still damp.

“He left the house but he still can’t call me,” Luigi muttered.

“No time like the present.” Bowser nudged him and Luigi stepped forward.

He was hanging back, so when Mario opened the door he would only see his brother. It was smart, but it felt like a trick.

Still, if Mario did see Bowser and Luigi together, his first thought would be that Bowser was holding Luigi hostage to get him outside… So this was for the best.

Luigi knocked on the door, and waited.

Then he knocked again.

And again.

“Y’want me to kick it in?” Bowser asked.

“I can kick a door in myself.”

“Not these, I reinforced them.”

Luigi contemplated the door, which looked for all the world like worn wood with peeling paint. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“I know! That’s the point!” Bowser sounded proud.

Luigi leaned forward and started banging on the door with the side of his fist, slowly, rhythmically, but non-stop.

Even after that it took a couple minutes, but finally, finally, Luigi heard movement beyond the door.

It opened to Mario, unshaven, pale, with dark circles under his eyes and hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb since the day he left. He was wearing a ratty hoodie and sweatpants that Luigi didn’t recognize, though he’d never checked how much Mario grabbed from their apartment before he disappeared. And his expression was showing nothing but defeat.

“Lu-”

Luigi didn’t let him get another syllable before he grabbed his brother and pulled him into a hug.

He felt Mario’s arms raise, slowly, and wrap around his torso. After a moment his head turned and the grip became tighter, and Luigi still didn’t let go until even he was struggling to breathe.

“I missed you,” Luigi said.

“I- I missed you too.”

“Come home.”

“I-”

“It wasn’t a request.”

Mario blinked, but his expressions were too slow, like he wasn’t feeling properly. “Are you sure… you want to put up with me?”

Before Luigi could figure out the best way to say yes, Bowser spoke up, “He’s done it this long.”

Mario’s head snapped to the side, his eyes focused on Bowser far sharper than they had on Luigi. “What are you doing here?”

“He found you for me,” Luigi said. “He doesn’t want to fight, don’t worry.”

“He doesn’t want to fight?” Mario repeated. “Since when does he get a choice?”

“Standin’ right here, red,” Bowser muttered. He raised his voice and added, “Hey, it’s raining, can we do this inside?”

“Let’s go inside,” Luigi said, trying to sound soothing.

“Fine,” Mario said, and Luigi knew it was only because he was getting wet too. “But… it’s a mess.”

“So’s our place right now. Don’t worry about it.”

He hadn’t been exaggerating, the lair was a mess. Mario had set up his “room,” such as it was, in the breakroom. He had a wadded-up nest of blankets on a couch, there were stacked up boxes of fast and microwave food on every surface, small plastic bags from the corner store stuffed with wrappers and receipts. Now Luigi knew how Mario had found out about his social media account, because the old laptop he hadn’t used since college was sitting on a table surrounded by empty cups. Luigi’s fingers itched to start cleaning, but he knew it wasn’t what Mario needed right now. He had to be careful, he had to be gentle, he had-

“What did you do to my place?” Bowser exclaimed, dismayed.

“What’s the point?” Mario muttered. He dropped onto the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. “No one else was ever going to come in here, so…”

“You don’t get to turn my lair into your depression cave!” Bowser said.

“I didn’t mean to stay this long,” Mario said.

“You were also a squatter,” Luigi pointed out.

“The hell I was, I bought this property fair and square.”

“You did?” Luigi and Mario both looked up at him.

“I mean, under a shell company, sure. Didn’t want my name on the paperwork.”

To Luigi’s surprise, Bowser grabbed one of the half-empty bags and started picking up trash.

“You don’t have to do that,” Mario said, startled.

“Someone’s gotta. You two are probably gonna be hugging and crying for a while.”

“Mario,” Luigi said. “He’s right.”

“He’s right? Bowser is right?”

“I mean we need to talk.” Luigi pushed a blanket aside and sat down next to Mario on the couch. “Can you tell me… why you’ve been here so long? Why you wouldn’t call me?”

Mario’s face fell again, his eyes drifting to the floor. “I don’t know, it just… it was hard. I didn’t want to do it, so I didn’t, and I told myself I would do it tomorrow, but… I don’t know.”

It really did sound like depression. And that meant leaving him here wasn’t an option. “Come home with me,” Luigi said. “We’ll find you someone to talk to.”

“I don’t need a therapist, I know what’s wrong with me.” He smiled, briefly. “I’m a piece of shit and no one should have relied on me.”

Across the room, Bowser snorted.

“Don’t say that,” Luigi said. “You were under a lot of pressure, it wasn’t right. I just wish you’d told me so I could have supported you. You were always the one taking care of me.”

“That part was never hard,” Mario said. “I wanted to take care of you.”

“But you didn’t need to, not as much as you did,” Luigi said. “I could handle losing at Jenga, you know.”

“What?” Mario said.

“What?” Luigi repeated.

“I never let you win at Jenga,” Mario said.

Luigi blinked. “You didn’t?”

“You already beat me about half the time,” he said. “Why would I need to let you win?”

“I… Uh… Huh.”

But if Mario never let him win, that meant… Luigi was actually okay at it? At least as good as Mario?

“I know what’s wrong with you,” Bowser said suddenly.

“Bowser,” Luigi said, warningly.

“No, no, I’m serious. I figured it out.”

“Bowser, this isn’t the time.”

“It’s called ‘gifted kid burnout’,” Bowser said, doing finger quotes with a bag of trash still clutched in one hand. “See, when somebody is good at something, and gets constant praise for it, but the expectations and the work keep building up and building up, eventually they snap. If they can’t do it perfectly they feel like they were never good at it, and they don’t know how to be good at anything ever again.”

Mario stared at him. Expression was coming back to his face, slowly, like dye dripped in water. It looked like… relief.

“Except you’re not a college student,” Bowser added. “Good news is, you can’t flunk life! Bad news is, you still have to tell everyone you’re not dead.”

“Do I?” Mario said. “I don’t… I don’t think I can be Super Red again. Isn’t it fine if he’s dead?”

“No!” Bowser said. “Because I’m not going to jail for murder I didn’t even do!”

“You might as well kill me then because-”

“No,” Bowser and Luigi said in unison.

“Don’t make jokes like that,” Luigi said. “It’s bad for your mental health.”

“And seems like that needs all the help it can get,” Bowser said, cheerily.

“Do you have to make it so obvious you’re enjoying this?” Luigi snapped.

“I got nothing left to lose here!” Bowser exclaimed, loud enough to startle both of them. “I’ve already fucked things up beyond repair, I’m at least gonna have fun while I can!”

Luigi felt a little bad, hearing that. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought Bowser along, if it felt like it was just dragging out the inevitable.

“What does he mean?” Mario’s eyes were fully alert now. “Luigi, why is he here?”

Luigi sighed. “Okay, you… you remember when you called last time? When I said I made a new friend?”

“Yes?” Mario looked at Bowser, then back at Luigi, then his head whipped back and forth between them a couple times. “Him?”

“Yeah.”

“Him.”

“Yes.”

“You said the guy was named Bernie,” Mario said.

Why couldn’t depression memory have erased that bit of trivia? “It’s complicated,” Luigi said.

“But you trust him? You brought him here?” Mario glared at Bowser. “How are you qualified to judge my mental health? Were you a gifted kid?”

“Absolutely,” Bowser said, smugly. “But I never burned out, I just read a lot of parenting books.”

“Your son is six, isn’t he?” Luigi said.

“He has a son?” Mario exclaimed.

“Yeah, six,” Bowser said.

“Isn’t it way too early to worry about that kind of thing?”

“I got lots of worries! You don’t know.”

“He just started kindergart- How is he doing, by the way?”

“Good, good,” Bowser said, his shoulders relaxing a little. He looked relieved. “It’s been completely fine, you were right.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

Softly, to himself, Mario said, “What is going on?”

“I think we should go home,” Luigi said.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Mario said. “I can stay here.”

“No you can’t,” Bowser said.

“I just… I don’t think I’m ready to go home. Give me some time.”

Luigi felt frustration building up. He’d been trying his best, but even with a name to put on what he was feeling Mario was still stuck. “Nothing is going to change. You’ll feel the same tomorrow.”

“I know, but this is so sudden.”

“It’s not sudden,” Luigi said. “It’s been almost six months. Half a year since I’ve seen you!”

Mario flinched, his eyes wide, like a shaky baby deer.

“I’m sorry,” Luigi said, taking a breath. “But no. You’re coming home, today. And we’re going to start looking for a therapist, also today.”

“Today?”

“Yes! Because I-” Luigi’s voice cracked. “Mario, I’ve been so lonely I turned to Bowser for support. No offense.”

“None taken,” Bowser said, mildly.

“I had no idea anything was wrong, and then I thought you were dead, and then I didn’t see you again for six months! You left me alone, and I- I’ve been so angry with you, this whole time! And I had no one to tell, so it’s just been festering.”

“You’re mad at me?” Mario said, stunned. 

“Yes!” Luigi said. “Nothing - not me and not you - is going to get better until we move forward. Coming home is the first step.”

Mario sat there for a moment, staring into space. Luigi couldn’t tell what was going on in his head, but he didn’t want to apologize. It wasn't wrong to be honest about his feelings.

Finally, Mario stood up and looked around, carefully avoiding eye contact with Bowser. “I should… pack?”

Luigi stood too. “I never went in your room, everything you left there is still there.”

“Okay.” Avoiding Bowser, who had decided to refuse to move once he noticed what Mario was doing, Mario picked up his laptop and the charging cable. He hesitated for a moment. “I can come back for the rest tomorrow.”

Luigi doubted there was much “rest,” but it wasn’t worth arguing.

“Let’s go then,” Luigi said. “You don’t have to clean, Bowser.”

“Good,” Bowser said, dropping the bag unceremoniously on the floor.

“He’s coming too?” Mario hissed.

“I drove him here,” Luigi said as he steered Mario toward the door. “I have to at least give him a ride back.”

Mario shook his head, slowly. “I have been gone for way too long.”

They didn't talk at all on the way back. Luigi barely said goodbye to Bowser as they left the van, and he didn't realize until he was already inside that he wasn't sure if it was goodbye. He had Mario back, he already had a better understanding of why Bowser did what he did… The idea of seeing him didn't sting the way it had before.

He could decide later. For now there were other things to focus on.

“You were going to leave?” Mario asked when he saw the boxes. “Because of me?”

“No,” Luigi said, though he immediately realized it wasn't quite true and walked it back. “Not only because of you.”

“Because of Bowser?” Mario asked. And dammit, why did his brother have to know him so well?

“We had a fight,” Luigi said. “I didn't think I could ever forgive him.”

“But you did,” Mario said, eyes narrowed.

“No,” Luigi said, though he knew that wasn't true as soon as he said it. “It will depend on what he says.”

Mario shook his head and turned to the box labeled Kitchen. “Did you already cancel the lease?”

“No. I wasn't going to, in case… in case you came back.”

That numb expression crossed Mario's face. “I don't know if I would have.”

“Well, it's a good thing I found you then, isn't it?” Luigi put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him. “I’ll take care of everything until you feel better. And if you never feel better, I'll take care of you forever.”

Mario shook his head, but his mouth was turning up in a smile. “Where were you going to go?”

“Um… Back home. Tell Mom and Dad they were right and we failed.”

Mario looked up at him. “Luigi.”

“At least it would have got me a place to stay for a while! Then I could find a job and start over.”

“After everything they- What were you going to tell them about me?”

“I hadn't thought that far,” Luigi admitted. “I just wanted to get out of the city as soon as I could. I guess… I understand a little of how you felt, now.”

“Are you okay?” Mario asked. Even like this, he was still worrying about Luigi.

“Yeah” Luigi said, and he meant it. “I am.”

The rest of the day was spent focusing on Mario - reading up on depression, looking for therapists they could afford, and unpacking.

“Burnout” turned out to apply to more than just gifted kids and college students, although Bowser wasn't wrong that the way it was affecting Mario was more like that than the other common causes. It wasn't just that he had a stressful job or that he was putting on a persona as a perfect superhero, it was the expectations everyone had of him.

Putting a name to it helped a lot. Though Mario seemed to deflate when he read that it could take a year or more of rest to recover.

“If you don't want to be Super Red any more, you don't have to,” Luigi said. “You don't have to be that ever again.”

“But what about you? I can't let them put all that pressure on you instead.”

“They're not,” Luigi said, dryly. “I've had to put effort in just to get people to remember me.”

“That's not fair! You did just as much as I did!”

“Maybe not, but… it might not matter anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know if I'm going to be Super Green anymore either,” Luigi said. “I was going to quit, since I was leaving, but now… I don't know. It doesn't matter if either of us go back, there's plenty of other heroes.”

Mario's brow was furrowed. “I was worried when we first started if you were only doing it because I wanted to… But I thought you enjoyed it. You always seemed to really be proud of what we accomplished.”

“I was! I am.” Luigi bit his lip. “I don't know. Now that I feel better about the other stuff, I want to think about it. If in a couple days I'm eager to go back, I will. But if I don't… maybe it’s time to stop.”

“Is this because of Bowser too?” Mario asked.

“Let's get back to unpacking.”

Burnout came with physical exhaustion, according to the websites and according to the fact Mario passed out as soon as they took a break. Luigi had to wake him up to eat something, glad he’d kept enough food in the apartment that he could cook a proper meal. After that Luigi shuffled Mario off to bed, untouched - and still unmade - after all these months, and started unpacking his own bedroom.

It was still early. Luigi hadn’t watched the news for once, and he hadn’t even skipped that after the “breakup” with Bowser. He wasn’t tired, despite all the drama, he felt wound up… But he didn’t want to risk waking Mario, who needed the rest.

After tossing and turning for a while, Luigi gave up, pulled on his clothes again, and headed out.

He’d remembered to grab an umbrella this time. Which was good, because the rain had upgraded from “sprinkler” to “buckets.” Luigi parked around the corner and headed for the old garage, with a box of trash bags and a few of the (soggy now) boxes they’d unpacked earlier. They’d still hold as long as he didn’t put anything too heavy in them. Probably.

But when Luigi rounded the building and reached for the door, a dark looming shape appeared out of the rain and made him jump, dropping the boxes onto the waterlogged pavement.

“Oh, dammit.”

“Sorry,” Bowser’s voice said. “I got it.”

He was carrying an umbrella too, massive and dark green, like the type they used for patio tables instead of people. Luigi had to dodge as he bent over to pick up the boxes, though he didn’t want to say anything. Luigi had made the same mistake with pipes more times than he wanted to count.

“What are you doing here?” Luigi asked.

“That's my line,” Bowser said. “This is my place!”

“No it’s not, I remember, you said you doubted anyone new had bought it. That means you don’t know.”

Bowser let out a brief growl. “I hate how smart you are.”

That still thrilled Luigi a little to hear.

“I erased that shell company when we abandoned the lair,” Bowser said, stepping up to the door. “I didn’t realize the bills were still getting auto-paid, but I wondered how the hell your brother had electricity in here, so I checked. It’s still mine.”

“How did you not notice losing that much money?”

“It explains a lot, I’ll tell you that much.” Bowser grumbled. “But the electricity wasn’t being used until the last six months, and I’ve had… other things on my mind, lately.”

He opened the door and stood aside, holding it open for Luigi to go first. Luigi did, without thinking about it.

“Can you afford it? Should… should we pay you back?”

“No, don't worry about that. I do all right,” Bowser said, ambiguously.

“So that’s why you’re here? To shut things off?”

“Actually I kind of wanted to see if your brother found my old panic rooms.”

Bowser flipped a switch and the lights came on, revealing the main garage. It was almost entirely empty, only a few grease stains on the floor and scorch marks on the wall betraying this place’s former use.

“Panic rooms?” Luigi repeated. “Did you really think me and Mario would hunt you down to hurt you?”

“Not for me,” Bowser said, a little offended. “For Junior. I used to bring him to work a lot, before he got smart enough to realize he can climb on top of things to reach the dangerous stuff.”

He set down his umbrella and the boxes by the door and started walking across the room, the opposite way from the break room where Mario had been living. Luigi followed, telling himself it was just to see if Mario had left anything in other parts of the building. Okay, he was a little curious about the panic room, but…

“And, to be honest,” Bowser added, “I did kind of think that about you two, early on.”

Luigi felt himself start to frown.

“Villains would,” Bowser said. “Bullies would. And don't kid yourself that a lot of superheroes aren't bullies, believe me, they do it to punish instead of prevent.” Bowser gave a crooked smile. “I figured out pretty quickly that you weren't like that, either of you, but the thought was still in my head.”

“I'm… I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way.”

“Eh,” Bowser shrugged. “If you did I don't remember, so no harm done.”

His hand slid across a blank wall, in between two tool racks, and when it came to a spot that looked like patched drywall, Bowser pushed it in. The hidden door slid into the wall like something out of a sci-fi movie.

“Wow,” Luigi said.

Bowser grinned down at him. “You think that's cool,” he said.

“Well-”

“You think I'm cool.”

Luigi felt himself blushing. “It's a neat trick, that's all. A trick wall is always cool.”

“Thank you,” Bowser said. He leaned into the doorway and wrinkled his snout. “Musty. Doesn't look like he found this one.”

That door slid shut, and Bowser moved on, Luigi still following him.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Bowser asked. “Came to clean for me?”

“Yes,” Luigi said. “Well, not for you. I don't think it would be good for Mario to spend too much time here, so I thought I'd pack up his stuff, get as much done as I could.”

Bowser grinned. “Too bad. You'd make a cute maid.”

“I'd make an amazing maid but that's not the point.”

Bowser laughed, a loud guffaw that echoed off the concrete walls. It was the exact same way Bernie laughed, just a little deeper, rumbling through Luigi's chest. How had Luigi never noticed before?

Bowser flipped another switch, and this time a normal door swung open, with stairs leading down. Luigi followed him, and a room twice as wide as the garage spread out below the ground.

“Oh wow,” Luigi said. “You built all this?”

“Sure, needed room to work. The shit we build isn't usually car-sized, y'know.”

“Yeah,” Luigi said absently.

Most of the equipment had been moved out, but there were lifts built into the floor and workbenches that looked bolted down. Luigi had always expected as much, but this meant Bowser really did build his own airships.

“What else do you build?” Luigi said, half to himself.

“Everything, greenie,” Bowser said. “I build everything I use. Didn't you know?” He pointed up the stairs. “I built that door you were so impressed with-”

“I wasn't that impressed.”

“I built that stupid hot air gun that you almost exploded at the bank, I built that disguise watch, hell, I built the coins that you use to store your costumes.”

“You what?” Luigi exclaimed. “You make those? But- but they're everywhere!”

“Didn't patent it,” Bowser grumbled. “Don’t know how the tech got leaked, that was before Mike came on board. I could have dropped one and somebody reverse-engineered it.”

“Wait, but,” Luigi's head was spinning with the implications. “If you make all this stuff, why aren't you rich?”

“I do all right,” Bowser said.

“I mean, you could just join the tech industry! You don't need to be a criminal!”

“I wanted to be, greenie. I wanted to take over the city. Besides,” Bowser folded his arms, glancing away, “wasn't like I could get an internship or anything. Doesn't matter how good your ideas are if no one will invest in them.”

Luigi hadn't missed the past tense there. “Wait, does that mean-”

“That's why I only have criminals for clients.”

Luigi almost tripped over himself. “Clients? You sell this stuff? To… to…”

Bowser looked down at him.

“Oddio,” Luigi muttered. “You're arming half the supervillains in the country, aren't you?”

Bowser grinned. “They'd never admit it. Every villain wants to be seen as self-sufficient. Hell, even I do, it'd be nice if people actually thought I earned enough from random robberies to fund all this.” He waved around at the workshop. “But I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed. So I take commissions on the downlow.”

“So that's why you were able to talk about work so much,” Luigi said, thoughtfully. “That's what you meant by lying as little as possible.”

“Yeah!” Bowser said. “And that's why I'm telling you now. Arms dealing is still a crime, but I- I never want to lie to you again.” He spread his arms. “Ask me anything. Hit me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” Luigi said. “Why did you really scan Peach with that disguise watch?”

Bowser flinched, curling in on himself as if Luigi had physically struck him. “I swear,” he said, sounding pained, “I swear to god, it's just because she was there.”

“A likely story,” Luigi said, grinning.

“It was a whim, I wasn't thinking about using it! That was the first prototype, I didn't know yet that there wouldn't be a way to reset it.” Bowser straightened up and jabbed a finger in Luigi's direction. “If you two hadn't been so slow rescuing her that time, it never would have happened!”

Luigi couldn't help but laugh. Bowser looked so embarrassed that it had to be the truth. If he'd wanted to do something creepy with it he'd have a better excuse than a random whim.

But now Luigi was thinking. “About that watch…”

“They’re all gone now. There weren't many prototypes because it's so expensive, and the others are accounted for. Mine was the last and I smashed it.”

“But you can make another, right?” Luigi asked. “You could make them and sell them.”

Bowser shook his head. “Super Crown mushrooms are rare, and that's on top of the parts needed to make it toggleable. They're too pricey and not versatile enough.”

“Not to villains,” Luigi said. “To regular people! You could go straight!”

“Gross,” Bowser said, and Luigi laughed again.

“There must be people who want to look like somebody else for non-evil reasons. Like, um, like actors!”

“It can only scan from life, not pictures. I don't think there's a big market for movies about identical cousins.”

“What about…” Luigi tapped the side of his head as he thought. “What about stunt actors? The studio could buy one for their big action stars, and then they wouldn't have to digitally replace the stuntmen’s faces anymore.”

“I think the digital stuff is still cheaper. And actors age, it would only be useful for a few years.”

“Oh! That’s it!” Luigi tapped his fist into his palm. “I bet a lot of actors would kill to be able to never look a single day older.”

Bowser's eyebrows rose, and he put a hand to his chin. “Now, there's an idea… Playing on vanity. I could work with that.”

“You see?” Luigi said.

“I see that your smarts can be useful instead of just annoying,” Bowser said with a smirk.

“I’m useful for lots of things,” Luigi said. He leaned one hand against the wall so he could pose with his ankles crossed. “Fighting crime, looking goo- whoop.” The wall slid out from under him, sending Luigi nearly stumbling to the ground.

“Finding secret panic rooms!” Bowser said, cheerfully. “I wasn’t gonna admit I forgot where it was.”

“Great…” Luigi muttered, clinging to the door frame in an attempt to regain his balance. Bowser picked him up by the back of his jacket and set him down a couple feet away.

“Wanna check it out?” Bowser asked as he walked through the door. “I went whole hog on this one. You could survive a nuke in here.”

Luigi couldn’t help being curious about what “whole hog” meant in terms of a panic room. Maybe it was more like a shelter, or a bunker? Like those doomsday preppers who turned up in zombie movies?

As soon as he stepped inside, the door slid shut behind him.

Panic was an appropriate term in this moment. Luigi spun around and fumbled at the door, looking for a handle or a switch, anything that would prove this wasn’t a trick and he hadn’t walked into another trap-

He finally found a handle, a little higher than felt natural, but as soon as he squeezed it the door slid into the wall again, smooth as butter.

“It doesn't lock automatically,” Bowser said, from behind him. His voice was flat in that way that meant he was upset and trying to hide it.

“Oh…” Of course it wasn’t a trap. If it was, Bowser could have locked him downstairs without even bothering with the panic room ruse. But for a second Luigi’s mind had jumped to the worst possible conclusion, and he couldn’t even say it was his anxiety’s fault this time. Still, he hadn’t meant to hurt Bowser by reacting that way, so he said, “Sorry.”

“It's fine. I don't expect you to trust me.” Bowser smiled, wistfully. “I'm glad you're still willing to talk to me.”

It was easy to talk to him. They’d been wandering around and chatting with no problem, like nothing had changed except the way “Bernie” looked. He wasn’t Bernie, but he was. He was, but he never had been.

“Why don’t you show me around?” Luigi asked, awkwardly.

“Uh, right.” Bowser leaned across him to flip some switches near the door. The lights flickered to life overhead, and Luigi heard a fan kick on, noting the vents high up on the wall.

It was… a room. A bit smaller than the breakroom upstairs, with no kitchen but a nicer couch. A small table and chairs against one wall, empty shelves above it, and a door at the far end that could have been storage or a bathroom.

“This is bigger than my bedroom,” Luigi said, absently. “What makes it a panic room, though? Besides the door.” He glanced back and noted it had slid shut again. Must be timed.

“It can be totally locked down once you’re inside,” Bowser said. “The doors use number codes or palm prints. The walls are reinforced with steel, and everything is bulletproof. There’s a communication system, air filters,” he pointed up at the vents, “oxygen masks and gas masks, dehydrated food that I didn’t bother to pack when we moved because it’s nasty, first aid supplies… Hm, what else? I used to have a checklist.”

“Did you ever really think you’d need all that?” Luigi asked, going from impressed to concerned.

“Eh, not really. I was going through kind of an overprotective phase. I kept thinking of things that might happen to my son, and building all this stuff to keep him safe from it at least kept me from getting all helicopter parent on him.” Bowser dropped down onto the couch, which sagged a little beneath his weight. It was built for koopas though, with a flexible back and a gap for tails.

“I think that’s normal for first-time parents,” Luigi said.

“Maybe,” Bowser said. 

“Do you… have pictures? Can I see him?”

“You want to?” Bowser asked, surprised.

“I always thought it was a little weird that you didn’t show me pictures, most parents love to, but I thought it would be weirder if I asked.” He added, dryly, “Now I know why.”

“I do. Plenty.” Bowser took his phone out of his shell and tapped the screen a couple times. When he handed it over it was open to a folder full of pictures of a small koopa with a round face and a tuft of red hair.

Luigi shrugged off his wet jacket and hung it on one of the chairs, before he sat down to look through the photos with Bowser. He gasped once he properly saw the boy in them. “He looks just like you!” 

“I know,” Bowser said. He sounded conflicted about it, for some reason.

“What's this?” Luigi kept swiping through the photos. “There's so many drawings. Did he do these?”

“Yeah, he loves art.”

“You said he was six? This is actually really good for a kid that young.”

“I know,” Bowser said again, sounding proud this time.

Luigi swiped past a few more, and stopped on a photo of Junior and Bowser together. “You’re… How tall is he?”

“Eh,” Bowser shrugged. “‘Bout your height?”

Realization sunk in. “He… looks exactly like you.”

“I know,” Bowser said, his voice solemn. He knew what that meant, probably much better than Luigi did. “I used to think taking over the city meant fixing it,” he said, wistfully. “That he'd never have to feel the way I did. But I just made it worse, because now everyone’s going to look at him and know he's the son of a criminal.”

Luigi handed the phone back. “You don't… feel that way anymore?”

“No,” Bowser admitted, scrolling through the photos himself now. “I'm not sure what to do. I could send him and Kamek across the country, where nobody cares about our local villain scene, but I really don't want to be an absent father, and besides he'd have to start school all over again. He's still too young to understand that it'd be for the best.”

Bowser sighed, tucking his phone away and leaning back and stretching his arms across the couch.

“I've been thinking about turning myself in. I'd do all right in prison, nobody could touch me. I'm sure it would be awful, and there are barely any facilities built to accommodate guys like me so it'll be Claustrophobia Central. But hey, at least then I'd be paying my debt to society. And I'll be in there long enough that everyone's bound to forget about me, right? Then Junior can just be himself.”

“Most of what you did was property damage,” Luigi said. “If you can pay back what you stole, it shouldn't be too long of a sentence? But… they do tend to make examples of supervillains.”

“Ugh,” Bowser grumbled. “I've seen that supervillain prison they built out west. They don't even let them socialize.”

“I think it's to stop them from organizing.”

“It's torture is what it is. Solitary confinement is inhumane, every single study proves that.”

“Yeah… they do,” Luigi agreed, quietly. “But, I also think that place is just for the guys with superpowers?”

“I breathe fire, Luigi.”

“Oh… Right.”

There didn't seem to be a way out. Not that Luigi thought Bowser should just be able to walk away from everything he'd done, but if he wasn't going to do it again, what was the point in locking him up? Just to punish? The only people who could get away with destroying cities were heroes or corporations.

Then again… Bowser could be a corporation. If he could pay back all the damage he caused, maybe…

Why was he thinking like this? Why did it matter so much? Sure, Luigi had principles, but thinking of Bowser locked away for years was a lot more painful than mere moral objections to the prison industry.

Luigi looked up, and found himself staring into Bowser's eyes.

Somehow, sitting here and talking like old times (all of a week ago), Luigi had gotten very close to Bowser. His arm was across the back of the couch and he was leaning to the side, Luigi very nearly tucked up against him. It would only take the slightest movement for them to touch.

And then Bowser jerked back, bracing himself to stand. “I should, uh, I should go. You wanted to pack up, so-”

Luigi put his hand on Bowser's chest and said, softly, “Stay.”

Bowser froze. Not a hair on his head was moving, it was like Luigi had cast a spell on him. Turned him to a statue with one touch.

“You… really hurt me, Bowser,” Luigi said. “More than I think anyone ever has. You tricked me, you made me trust you, and you knew what you were doing all along.”

Bowser swallowed, and nodded. “I'm sorry. I really am. I thought that it wouldn't matter if I never let you find out, since that way you wouldn’t get hurt, but… if it was someone else who did this to you, I'd probably kill them. If I could take it back, you know I would.”

“I know,” Luigi said.

“I do… care about you, you know,” Bowser said.

“I know that too,” Luigi said, smiling.

“Did you really want it to end the other night?” Bowser asked, in a rush. “To- to just walk away and never see me again?”

Luigi barely remembered saying that, but Bowser must have been thinking about it all day.

“I did…” Luigi said. “Because if I left then, and never learned anything else, I could hate you.”

“And you don’t, now?” Bowser asked. His voice was low, as if asking it too loudly would affect the answer.

“I don’t hate you,” Luigi said. He felt his cheeks getting warm. “It was a false hope anyway. I like you too much to hate you.”

Bowser's eyes were wide, like he was afraid. Luigi knew that feeling. Sometimes it was scary to hope.

“When I think about never seeing you again, that hurts too,” Luigi said. “I don't want that to happen.”

“So… what does this mean?” Bowser asked, barely above a whisper.

“It means a second chance.”

Bowser lunged forward, arm wrapping around Luigi's back, but Luigi put a hand over his muzzle before he could go any further.

“You won't get a third,” Luigi said firmly. “If you ever give me another reason not to trust you-” Bowser nodded his head quickly. “Okay?”

He nodded again, and when Luigi lowered his hand, he said, “Okay.”

They sat for a moment, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, Luigi smiled and said, “Well? Are you going to kiss me or are you going to just sit there and look pretty?”

Bowser growled, but it was different from the ones Luigi had heard before. A low rumble that would have reminded him of a cat’s purr, if it wasn't so… heated.

“There you go again,” Bowser said. “Stealing my lines.”

He reached up and tilted Luigi's chin back, oh-so-gently. And then pressed him down into the sofa and kissed him until he saw stars.

Chapter Text

Luigi woke to his phone buzzing in his pocket. It took a few seconds for reality to sink in, and a few more to figure out why he couldn’t move, and then he pushed Bowser’s arm off of him and fumbled around until he got the phone to his ear.

“H’lo?”

“Where are you?”

The sound of Mario’s voice made Luigi jolt upright, until the memory of yesterday rose to the surface and he sunk back down. He no longer had to scramble for the phone and pray that it was his brother.

Although there was still the problem of how much to tell Mario about what he’d missed. Bowser was lying on the floor on his side - when had he ended up there? - and grumbling as he slowly woke up. As long as he didn’t say anything Luigi would be able to cover this up.

“Um. Out. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wr- You’re out? Were you out all night?”

“Is it morning?” Luigi lowered the phone long enough to check the time. It was, in fact, morning. And he had a concerning amount of alerts as well as a concerning lack of battery life remaining. “I guess I fell asleep. I’ll be home soon, don’t worry.”

“The city is flooded, Luigi! Getting home might be harder than you think!”

Luigi blinked a few times, lowered the phone again, and swiped past a few of the alerts. Emergency, emergency, Peach, Daisy, emergency, and then Mario about sixteen times.

“Wh- what do you mean the city’s flooded?” Luigi asked. “It wasn’t raining that hard.”

Bowser’s eyes went wide when he heard what Luigi said, and he sat up and pulled out his own phone.

“If anyone can sleep through a hurricane it’s you,” Mario said, the panic draining from his voice. Waking up to a natural disaster and a missing brother would send anyone into a tailspin. If anything it was surprising he could calm down this quickly. “Where are you? I’ll come find you.”

“It’s better if one of us stays put,” Luigi said quickly. “I’ll get home, don’t worry, I took the van and that should be able to make it through a little water.”

“It’s not ‘a little,’ Luigi, it was almost three feet at last report.”

Three feet. Three feet at ground level. And Luigi was currently under that.

“I’ll… figure it out,” Luigi said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. “It’ll be okay, Mario. I’ll get home. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Mario mumbled. “Just, be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

Luigi hung up just as Bowser roared into his phone, “What do you mean the city’s flooded?”

Bowser kept his phone’s volume pretty high. Luigi could hear a voice say, “I don’t know how else you want me to put that.”

“Where is everyone? Why are you at the lair?”

“A lot of us stayed over, it was raining like crazy!”

“You’re all okay?”

“Yeah boss, we’re all fine.”

“Good! Then you can get to work!” Bowser started pacing back and forth in the small room, his tail lashing behind him in agitation. “Fire up the fab units, find the files for that job we did in April-” Luigi couldn’t make out the reply this time. “Yes, for that lake weirdo. And dig out the shell for the last airship, I think we can re-use it.”

Luigi stopped listening as the conversation turned to shop talk. He probably didn’t have enough power left to make anymore calls, but he could see what all those alerts were about.

Storm warning, flood warning, evacuation notice… It looked like things had escalated in only a few hours. That was weird, wasn’t it? Did floods happen that quickly? Or at least ones this deep. The city was inland and wasn’t near any major water sources, it was relatively modern, grew up around trade routes and had state-of-the art infrastructure for its time.

Luigi had texts from Peach and Daisy and a few people he knew through work. One guy reminded him that even a foot of water could wash away a truck. Oof, which meant the van was probably long gone. Thankfully he hadn’t put any of the tools back yesterday. With his home and valuables several stories above the water, Luigi was going to make it out of this relatively unscathed.

If he could get out of this basement, that is. Luigi glanced up at the vent on the wall. It was high, but not that high. It wasn’t letting in water, so it must have been connected up on the roof or something.

“No, we can’t reuse the engine, it exploded, remember? You were there!”

What was the emergency policy for floods? Should they stay put? On television you often saw people being rescued from roofs, but Luigi had no idea how common that was in real life. How long would it take for the water to recede so people could go out to get food and necessities?

The damage was going to be bad… Luigi couldn’t even imagine how long it would take nearly every building in the city to repair their floors.

“No, I got the messages. Yeah. Kamek said they’re out of the city, Junior barely even woke up.” Luigi watched Bowser sigh and run his hand through his hair. “I will. Okay.”

He listened for a while, Luigi could no longer make out the other voice.

“Good. Whoever gets done first, come and meet me here. We want at least a half dozen of the little ones before the big one goes out. Power doesn’t matter this time, we want durability. Got it?” Apparently he got a positive answer. “Good. See you soon.”

Bowser hung up and scowled at his phone for a moment.

“Everything okay?” Luigi asked.

“Aside from the flood? Sure, fine. Peachy,” he growled.

“I mean, can I help?” Luigi said.

Bowser blinked, turned his head to stare at Luigi for a few seconds. “Oh… right.”

Luigi smiled. “Did you forget you’re allowed to ask?”

“Maybe,” Bowser admitted. “Uh… At the moment what I most need is a phone charger.”

“Sorry,” Luigi said. “I wish I had one too.”

Bowser grumbled under his breath. “Okay, well, I’m gonna call my kid real quick, and then we’ll figure out-” He waved overhead. “-all this.”

“Sounds good.”

Bowser dropped onto the couch next to Luigi, nearly bouncing him out of his seat. They’d already kind of abused the poor piece of furniture last night and the springs didn’t seem like they’d hold much longer. Luigi ended up sinking down and falling against Bowser’s side, and neither one of them bothered to correct the situation.

“Hey,” Bowser said into the phone, wrapping his other arm around Luigi’s shoulders. Luigi could hear a man’s voice, swiftly replaced by a higher-pitched one. “Yeah, I’m fine! Of course I’m fine, it’s me.”

Several minutes passed as Bowser’s son chattered at him, Luigi sitting and watching Bowser’s face. He could have passed for an entirely different person than when he was storming banks with heat rays, none of the usual swagger or performative rage. Right now, Bowser looked so gentle that Luigi would have trusted him with an entire kennel of puppies.

“A natural disaster isn’t anyone’s fault, bud,” Bowser said. “Though if I find out somebody in city planning cheaped out on drainage I’m gonna cause an un natural one.”

Okay, not all of his rage was performative.

“Drainage…” Luigi muttered to himself.

“No, uh,” Bowser glanced at him. “I’m… with a friend.”

“Sorry,” Luigi whispered, and Bowser shook his head.

“Yeah, same friend,” he said into the phone. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh… Are you sure?” Bowser glanced at Luigi again, brow furrowing. “I… I guess.” He held the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Really?” Luigi said. “Is that okay?”

“I don’t mind. You can say no, though.”

“I… it’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”

Luigi took the phone, gingerly, in both hands. It was about the size of a tablet to him, though the layout was the same as any other cell phone. He held it to the side of his face, and before he could think of how to introduce himself, a child’s voice asked, “You’re Super Green, right?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a superhero?”

“Yes,” Luigi said. When a child asked that, you always said yes. Either they were about to think you were the coolest person on the planet, or they had a very serious problem that they needed you for.

“Can you save my dad?”

Luigi’s heart clenched.

He’d heard Bowser say that Junior slept through most of the evacuation. So he’d woken up in a strange place, without his father, and his city currently in the middle of a disaster his father hadn’t even caused. Just like with Mario, that would be terrifying no matter how old you were.

“Yes,” Luigi said. “We’ll both be fine. I’ll make sure he gets back to you as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” Junior said. “That’s your job!”

“Yes it is,” Luigi agreed. “I’m gonna give the phone back now, okay?”

“Kay,” he said, and that was that.

Bowser talked to his son for a few more minutes, before he had to start reminding him that the battery was going to die. It took several more of those, until finally Bowser said, in a rush, “OkayIloveyoubye,” and hung up a split second before Luigi saw the screen go dark.

Bowser swore. “I hope my idiots actually listened to me.”

“You told me you had four phones, but you only brought one with you?”

“That’s about spreading the evidence around! What’s the point of keeping it separate if the cops get me with all of them on my person?”

Bowser glared at the door to the panic room. Luigi hadn’t had a chance to bring it up yet, but it was possible that beyond that portal was a completely flooded basement. It wouldn’t be that far to swim, especially if the lights were still on, but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

“We did remember to shut the door when we came in, didn’t we?” Bowser said.

“Into the building? Yes,” Luigi said. Thinking back, he recalled what Bowser said about reinforcing them. “Wait, so we might not be underwater?”

“There’s a fifty-fifty shot,” Bowser said. “My new place was watertight, apparently, but this building hasn’t been maintained for two years.” He glanced around. “There’s still some time before our ride should get here, that shitty freeze-dried granola should be around somewhere… And hey!” Bowser popped a panel on the wall. “Oxygen masks! Paranoia pays off!”

“That’s not a good lesson,” Luigi said, though he was immensely relieved that both breakfast and oxygen were at hand.

“Maybe, but it’s true.” Bowser handed him a silver baggie with the word BERRY stamped on it. “Hey, you’re a plumber. If we are underwater, is it safe to use the bathroom?” He jerked his thumb toward the other door. “What if I flush the toilet and all the water sprays out?”

“The sanitary sewers and the storm sewers aren’t connected,” Luigi said. “That kind of thing only happens in really old cities on coasts.”

“Why aren’t the storm sewers doing their jobs, then?” Bowser asked with a huff. “Isn’t that literally the point?”

“I… don’t know,” Luigi said. He’d thought about it earlier too. “According to the alerts, the storm is over. The water should be draining away. It’s weird that it got this high in the first place, even if a lot of rain fell all at once, three feet of water doesn’t just sit around. Something… something must be wrong.”

“So I can’t use the bathroom?”

“They’re separate- Just go,” Luigi rolled his eyes. “We’ll find out once you do.”

After about twenty minutes (Luigi’s phone died too so he wasn’t sure) they were both as ready to face the day as they were going to be. Luigi had eaten the dry granola and washed up as best he could in the bathroom sink, and there were no problems with any of the plumbing. He wished he hadn’t slept in his clothes, but they were about to get soaked even if the building wasn’t flooded. There would be no way to get to Bowser’s “ride” without it.

Unless it was an airship? Would they be picked up on the roof after all?

Bowser stood in front of the door, Luigi behind him, backed up to a safe distance just in case the water bowled him over. Both of them were wearing the oxygen masks from the emergency supplies, hooked up to small tanks that Bowser told him would last about an hour. There was no way they’d be under water that long, but it was better to be safe.

He watched Bowser take a breath, and grip the door handle.

It opened to an empty - and completely dry - basement.

“Ha! Yes!” Bowser pumped his fist in the air. “I’m good at everything!”

“Great!” Luigi exclaimed. “So… what now?”

“Good question, greenie, let’s go see what we can see.”

The upstairs was just as they had left it, dim and empty, only the old breakroom full of trash. Luigi was wondering if they’d still have to open the front doors - or maybe the garage? - to get out, when Bowser ripped one of the blackout curtains off a window.

“A little short,” he said, thoughtfully. Luigi could just see water lapping at the bottom of the glass. “Still, if we close them behind us it won’t be that bad.”

“Are you going to keep this place after all?” Luigi asked.

“Don’t know if I’ll have any use for it, but if I wanna sell it I’ll earn a lot more getting to brag about it being flood-proof.”

Bowser peered out the window at the flooded street. Luigi tried to lean around him, but he couldn't get a good look. All he saw was the water and the sunlight reflecting off it.

Sunlight… How long had it been since they’d had a clear sky?

“Check the others, would you?” Bowser said.

“What am I looking for?” Luigi asked, already walking across the room.

“What else?” Bowser said. “A boat.”

Luigi pulled another curtain aside and finally got a good look at the street. It was a lot more chaotic than he'd expected. Cars had been washed down the street, some sideways, one upside-down. There were broken pieces of wood from god-knew-where, garbage and other detritus floating aimlessly. The rain was finally gone, but the water wasn't moving.

“It's not draining,” Luigi said to himself. “It's not going anywhere.”

“There they are!” Bowser exclaimed. “C’mon, Luigi, I'll boost you out. We wanna do this quick.”

Luigi came when called, absently noting how easy it was to follow Bowser’s orders. Was it just because he was used to being in a partnership, or was Bowser naturally commanding?

He stood on his toes to peer out the window, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a koopa peered back. Bowser caught him, chuckling, and waited while he righted himself before reaching for the window.

Somehow, Luigi hadn’t believed him when he said “boat.” But there it was, a small motorboat made of unpainted metal, with an outboard motor that looked brand new. “Where did your men find this so fast?”

“Didn’t find jack, they made this.” Bowser’s chest stuck out slightly, he was proud of them. “We’ve got a regular customer who lives out by that giant lake up north. He orders boats from us all the time so we had the parts and plans ready to go. They probably won’t hold up against a storm, but if it starts raining again I’m making you evacuate too.”

“A supervillain?” Luigi repeated. “On a lake?”

“You hero types don’t talk much amongst yourselves, do you?” Bowser said.

“I… I guess not.”

“In the comic books you’re always teaming up.”

Luigi thought back to the few times a hero from out of town had come to the city. Working with Daisy, too. Even if they were friends now, it had been hard to coordinate. “I think most superheroes are… strong personalities.”

“Not that different from the villains, then,” Bowser said.

“No…” Luigi agreed. “Not that different.”

The two koopas driving the boat were waving at them eagerly through the window, so Luigi climbed up on Bowser’s shoulder when prompted and braced himself to get wet. Sure enough, the water rushed inside as soon as he lifted the pane, but Bowser boosted Luigi through the hole and just barely managed to scramble through himself by retracting his spikes. He stood waist-deep in the floodwaters instead of climbing aboard, and shut the window firmly behind him.

“Okay,” he said, letting Luigi help him climb up while the other two leaned toward the opposite end as counterweights. “Oof. Where’s everybody else?”

“They’re coming, boss,” one of the koopas said. He had a walkie-talkie with a bright red casing, almost certainly more waterproof than a cell phone.

“You’ve got a whole fleet?” Luigi asked.

“I said six,” Bowser said. He looked at the koopa with the walkie. “How many were finished before you left?”

“Just this one,” he said. “But I heard we were up to eight.”

“That should be plenty, tell Kurtis to stop production and meet us out here.”

The koopa nodded, but hesitated and glanced at Luigi before he brought the walkie to his mouth. “We doing names today, boss?”

“Yeah we’re doing names today.” Bowser pointed at the three as he introduced them all to each other. “Luigi, Steve, Justin.”

“Hi,” Luigi said. “I’m Luigi. I guess um, you guys already know who else I am?”

“We do,” the one named Steve said, hesitantly. “But you’re hanging around with the boss, is that like… okay?”

Bowser gave a low growl, one that Luigi recognized now was just mild annoyance. “If I say it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re just giving him a ride home anyway.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” Luigi asked. “What do you need eight boats for?”

“Eight boats and a barge,” Bowser corrected.

“I thought you were going to leave town and meet up with your son.”

“I am!”

“And you need an entourage for that?”

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take to un -flood the city, I want my people and most of my stuff out of the danger zone.”

Steve relayed the message while Justin manned the motor. Bowser was too tall for him to see around, and Luigi noticed the way Bowser would point out directions without either of them having to say anything.

It was very strange, seeing the city like this. Luigi hadn’t gotten a good look at the neighborhood last night, with all the rain, but judging by the dark windows and lack of vehicles most of the people had managed to evacuate. As they got further into the city, that changed. Luigi saw faces peering down, handmade signs, heard voices and televisions playing. Someone was blasting Smoke on the Water and he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d thrown together a whole flood playlist.

There were broken windows at the ground level, some of it possibly caused by objects being swept through the glass, but some of it definitely looked like looting. Some people would be trapped without food… What if the power went out? A city couldn’t survive like this. Someone had to do something.

“There it is,” Steve, at the front of the boat, said.

Sure enough, something wide and bright was floating in the water, so big it took up most of the street. The shape was strange, sort of blobby and undefined, but it was familiar. The flooring looked like the inside of one of Bowser’s airships.

Steve slowed down as they approached, and the koopas bustling about on the barge rushed to one side to greet their boss. It was wide enough that it didn’t seem to be obviously unbalancing the thing, but Luigi still waited until Bowser was safely on board before he followed.

“Gotta admit,” Bowser said, looking around with apparent pride. “Didn’t think this would work.”

“It was your idea, boss!” one of the koopas said.

“Yeah but still. It wasn’t built to be sea worthy.”

“So it was your airship!” Luigi exclaimed. “You just welded up the holes and hoped for the best?”

“I mean there’s ballast in it, I’m not stupid, but… pretty much, yeah.”

“What happened to the engine?”

“You blew up the engine.”

“It didn’t explode! I think. Not before we crashed at least, or it would have been a lot worse.”

The koopas were staring at them, but Luigi did his best to ignore it. He had Bowser’s blessing to be here, and Bowser was the boss, they wouldn’t question him unless they had good reason.

“I’m not letting you touch anything,” Bowser said.

“I didn’t ask!”

A voice that Luigi hadn’t expected cut in, saying his name. “Luigi?”

There were so many people on the deck of the makeshift barge that Luigi hadn’t noticed the small crowd huddled in a corner. Three toads and a human with bedraggled blonde hair.

Peach jumped to her feet and ran across the barge - still in heels, Luigi noticed - and threw herself into his arms. She was still damp, but not soaked, and her makeup was holding firm.

“What are you doing here?” Luigi asked. “What happened?”

“What are you doing here?” Peach shot back. She touched the oxygen mask still hanging around his neck. “What's this?”

“It’s- it’s kind of a long story…” It wasn’t, but he didn’t want to get into it right now.

“Where did they come from?” Bowser muttered to the closest koopa.

“They were stuck on top of their van,” the koopa said. “We didn’t think you’d want us to just leave her- them there.”

Bowser sighed. “What’s done is done I guess. Now we’ll have to pick up anybody else we see.”

“We will?”

“Don’t want to make Green think I’m still hung up on her.” He glared down at the koopa. “You don’t think that. Do you Jessie?”

“No boss!” she said, quickly.

Luigi, still standing well within earshot, smiled to himself. He tried to ignore Peach's curious stare.

“Where do you want to be dropped off?” Bowser asked Peach. “Work or home?”

“Neither,” Peach said. “We came out here to cover the flood and we’re covering the flood.” Luigi noticed the toads back in the corner were carrying a camera and equipment.

“You’re idiots,” Bowser said. “My people had to rescue you and you still want to be out here?” He paused. “Wait a minute, how long were you out here?”

“I don’t know, a couple hours? Maybe three?”

Bowser snapped at the koopa next to him. “We brought supplies?”

“Yeah boss.”

“Get them water, food if we’ve got it.”

“On it boss.” She ran off, opening up a panel and hopping down below the deck. The barge couldn't be more than a couple feet deep, but Luigi didn't see any storage up on top. How much could they fit down there?

“What’s going on?” Peach asked Luigi. “You're… working with him?”

“Not exactly,” Luigi said. “I was trying to get home to- trying to get home, but now I think I should stay.”

“You should?” Bowser asked, surprised. “We don't need an escort, Greenie.”

“No, I mean here, in the city,” Luigi said. “I've got to do what I can to help. You and your people should evacuate,” he turned to Peach, “so should you.”

Both Bowser and Peach started talking over each other in protest.

“Something is wrong here!” Luigi said. “There's got to be a reason the flood water isn't draining.” He frowned a little. “I wish I could go back for my tools, but I don't know what I'm dealing with yet. It’s too much of a pain to swim through the sewers with a full toolbox.”

Bowser took a step to the side, positioning himself between Luigi and the edge of the barge, like he thought Luigi would jump in without warning. “You are not swimming through flooded sewers just to see what’s down there!”

“I have to,” Luigi said.

“No! You don’t! This is a natural disaster, it’s the city or the state or whatever’s job to fix it, not yours!”

“I’m a hero,” Luigi raised one hand, “and a plumber,” he raised this other, “I’m the perfect person to figure this out!”

“You said-” Bowser glanced at Peach. “Hey, go drink some water.”

“I’m fine,” Peach said. “It can wait.”

“The last thing you need is to neglect your health in the middle of a disaster. Don’t you want to look good on camera?”

“I’m fine,” Peach repeated. She looked at Luigi, eyes serious. “I’m perfectly happy standing right here.”

She thought he was in trouble, Luigi realized. She thought Bowser was bullying him, or using his resources as leverage, or something like that. Everyone probably would, who didn’t know Bowser.

“You should go drink water and rest,” Luigi said, gently. “There’s nothing to worry about, okay? Please let me handle things.”

“Okay…” Peach said. “But if you need me, just raise your voice!”

“I will,” Luigi said.

They both watched as she got back to her corner of the barge. Jessie the koopa had already distributed bottled water to the rest of the news crew, and what looked like those round packaged sandwiches Luigi remembered from school. Was this what Bowser fed his minions, or were those his son’s snacks?

Bowser put a hand on Luigi’s shoulder and turned him back to face him. He leaned down, getting closer to Luigi’s eye level. “All right, spill. You said you were thinking about quitting, but one thing goes wrong and you run right back in? Are you really thinking this through or are you on superhero auto-pilot?”

“I… I guess it’s a little bit auto-pilot.”

Bowser was right. It wasn’t Luigi’s responsibility to solve this. He should go back to the apartment and hunker down with his brother, play it safe.

But Luigi could fix this. He could help. Even if no one knew about it, even if he didn’t get praise or acknowledgement, he’d always know.

He’d never disliked being a superhero… It was only after Mario left that he started to feel unappreciated. Maybe Luigi didn’t need the city to build a statue for him. Maybe he just needed one person in his corner, to tell him he was doing amazing and that everyone who said otherwise was an idiot.

Luigi smiled. “If I keep being a hero, will you cheer for me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Bowser said with a huff. “I’ll do that no matter what you decide.”

“Then I’ll keep going,” Luigi said.

Bowser stood up again, pressing both hands against his eyes. He growled, but it was a shallow one, in the back of his throat. Finally he lowered his hands and snapped at the nearest koopa, “Change of plans, we’re going wherever Super Green goes.”

“Yes boss!” the koopa said, and started passing the word along.

Bowser looked down at Luigi. “Where’s the best place for you to get into the sewers?”

“Uptown,” Luigi said. “Just north of the business district, that’s where the biggest access points are.”

“You heard the man!”

The barge didn’t seem to have a motor of its own, but four of the small motorboats lashed themselves to one side and rumbled to life. Luigi wasn’t sure if they would have enough power, but sure enough, things started to move.

Bowser reached back into his shell and fished around, pulling out a handful of coins. “Here, if you’re doing this, you’ll probably want one of these.”

A coin, the same type that Luigi stored his costumes in, dropped into Luigi’s hand. “What… what’s this?”

Bowser turned away, staring at the buildings as they slowly drifted past. “You threw them on the ground, was I just supposed to leave them there? Let somebody steal your look?”

Luigi laughed. “And you kept them with you?”

“Yeah, well…” Bowser cleared his throat and turned toward his men. “Hey! Somebody give me a phone! I need to make sure the family isn’t waiting for me.”

“Not even going to try to come up with an answer?” Luigi asked, teasingly.

“Oh… shut up,” Bowser said. His whole body was stiff with embarrassment. “You already knew I’m like this.”

“Yes,” Luigi said. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

He slapped the coin against his chest and let his costume flow over his clothes. In the end he’d taken less than a week off, but it already felt good to be Super Green again.

The barge moved through the city at a glacial pace. It couldn’t fit through all the streets, and even the ones that were wide enough were often choked with trapped cars and debris. And progress was slowed down even further by all the hangers-on they collected as they moved.

The first one was a yoshi, that Bowser at first assumed knew Luigi from the way it hopped on board right next to him. It was wearing a costume, and Bowser remembered fighting it before, but it didn’t have any unique powers as far as he could tell.

Next was a pair of yellow and blue toads, also wearing costumes. They too flocked to Luigi’s side. The foursome made introductions, and Luigi reassured them Bowser was on their side today.

Then there was a beanish, with a head of blond hair and a pompous attitude that immediately rubbed Bowser the wrong way. If he hadn’t been busy clearing out their path, Bowser would have thrown the guy off the barge as soon as he showed up. Little greenbean had the nerve to try and take charge.

“My boat, my rules,” Bowser said, shutting it down. “And Super Green has the most experience so I’m listening to him.”

“Here here!” Super Yellow agreed, nearly making Bowser jump. She was perched on a crate with a towel around her shoulders, so the minions must have welcomed her, but Bowser had somehow missed her in the chaos.

“You too? Where the hell are you all coming from?”

“We’re superheroes!” Yellow said. “We wanted to help!”

“And got stuck?”

“And got stuck,” she admitted. “Hey, this set-up is pretty clever though! How quickly did you manage to whip this up?”

“I know my stuff, Yellow.”

“Floods?”

“Manufacturing. I make all my gear.”

“Ooh.” Yellow stamped her boot on the barge. “Seems pretty sturdy! I guess that’s how you knew the ceiling was going to come down in that warehouse.”

“Didn’t take a genius, even if I am one,” Bowser said, modestly.

Luigi looked up from his crowd of hangers-on, and politely excused himself from their conversation about what they’d all done this morning and how much trouble they’d had getting through the floodwaters. Everyone except him was soaked from at least the chest down, and Bowser wasn’t sure how the toads had managed to get anywhere at all. Doggy-paddling?

Luigi took Bowser by the elbow and steered him a few steps away. He leaned in and Bowser copied him, listening carefully as Luigi kept his voice low. “I just remembered, are you serious about never lying to me again?”

“Of course I am.”

“So what were you doing in that warehouse?”

Bowser felt his eyes narrow and his nose wrinkle. Not lying was one thing, but this would incriminate others. “You won’t spread it around?”

“No, I won’t even tell Mario.”

“I really didn’t break in,” Bowser said. “The owner’s one of my clients, gave me a master key in exchange for a permanent discount. I was just there for boxes.”

Luigi’s eyes widened. “Boxes? Really?”

“Hey, shipping materials add up! Besides, I… I wasn’t gonna sleep well that night. It was something to do.”

Luigi smiled at him, softly. “You did say you were out for a walk. I guess that’s pretty close.”

“Pretty close,” Bowser agreed. Every time Luigi looked at him like that, it felt like warm cotton was filling his chest. He’d felt it for months, but now he was allowed to. It was so much better that he could barely resist the urge to kiss him right here.

“So there’s another supervillain locally?” Luigi asked.

“Huh? He’s not local.”

“You said he owned the warehouse.”

“He owns the company, Greenie. The whole thing. Worldwide.”

Luigi blinked. His eyes were wide again, and his face going pale. “Wait. Wait. You mean that billionaire is a supervillain?”

“He wishes,” Bowser scoffed. “He’s a baddie of the week at best. Guy’s got no taste.”

Luigi straightened up, still looking stricken. “Is that important?”

“Of course it is! It’s the same for both sides of the cape. You have to sell your image as much as your ideals.” Bowser patted his chest. “Why do you think I slap my face on all my ships? Can’t have any confusion about who’s-” He stopped, and winced. “That’s gonna bite me in the tail now, isn’t it?”

Some of the color had come back to Luigi’s cheeks. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luigi just smiled.

Eventually they made it to what Luigi dubbed “close enough.” It was almost midday now, and Bowser was painfully aware of how long it had been since he’d eaten. The minions had distributed all the food they’d brought, but they had a lot more people than they’d started out with, and Bowser needed more calories than most of them. It was getting harder and harder to remember all those anger management techniques he’d been practicing.

“Okay, what’s the plan Greenie?” Bowser asked.

Luigi sounded confident earlier when he was insisting he was the perfect person for this job, but he looked a lot less so as he contemplated the water beneath them. “Well, uh, I’ve got this oxygen mask here so…”

“You know that’s not rated for water,” Bowser said.

“It’ll be fine,” Luigi said, convincing no one. “I’m going to go down into the storm sewers and investigate, look for whatever is preventing the water from draining.”

Super Yellow spoke up, “Do you have any idea how many people die cave-diving?”

“Caves don’t have manholes at regular intervals,” Luigi said. “The storm sewers are designed for people to go in and service them. So that’s what I’m doing!”

“That really doesn’t seem safe to me,” the pink toadette said. When had she shown up? How did all these people keep getting on Bowser’s barge without him noticing? “Maybe we could poke a camera down there or something?”

“Do you have a waterproof camera?” Luigi asked.

“The news crew probably does,” the toadette said, pointing at Peach’s group. They’d been filming constantly, occasionally with Peach narrating, but mostly in silence. Bowser had already seen them go through three tapes.

“If the blockage isn’t right below a manhole that still won’t work,” Luigi said. “I have to go.”

“At least don’t go alone,” Bowser said. He scanned the group of wannabe superheroes. A few of them looked nervous, at least one looked confused. “Volunteer,” Bowser ordered.

There was a ringing silence, only the sounds of Bowser’s minions working and Peach’s film crew discussing lighting, and the ever-present sloshing of water on the sides of the barge.

“I can go,” Super Yellow said. “I’m a pretty good swimmer, I’m sure I can-”

“No,” Bowser said. “I need you for something else.” He lowered his chin, glaring at the heroes. “Volunteer. Now.”

The beanish cleared his throat. “It would be my honor to-”

“Fine, good enough.” Bowser dropped the second oxygen mask into his hands. “Your job is to keep Super Green safe. He knows what he’s looking for down there, you don’t.”

“I understand completely,” the beanish said. He smiled and held his hand out with a flourish. Luigi stared at it for a moment, then tentatively shook it. “I shall take this as a solemn duty.”

“Um. Sure! Happy to have you.”

Bowser did not like the way this guy looked at Luigi. Or, for that matter, the way Luigi looked at him. Luigi seemed confused by all the dramatics, but he was still smiling like he was flattered. The temptation to physically pull them apart was almost overwhelming, and only counting to ten and picturing Luigi’s disappointed face kept Bowser from going through with it.

He let them move aside and start discussing the plan for their dive, and turned to the rest of the heroes. They were mostly shuffling awkwardly, well aware of their own cowardice. All of them had taken refuge on Bowser’s barge, but none of them were willing to admit they were in over their heads.

“What do you need me for?” Yellow asked.

“Looting,” Bowser said absently.

“Looting?” she repeated, shocked. “I’m not going to loot.”

“It’s traditional!”

“I’m not helping you steal things!”

“‘Stealing’ is a strong word,” Bowser said. “What I mean is, you’re gonna go around and see if anybody trapped in their buildings needs anything. You’ve got those vines, you can climb up and deliver things straight to people’s windows, right?”

“I could…” Yellow said thoughtfully. “But looting-”

“Plus, you’re rich. If anybody wants to press charges you can just pay for what you took.”

Yellow blanched, and gave a fake giggle, trying to brush off his (accurate) accusation. “I’m- I’m not rich. Why would you say…”

“I recognized you the day we met, Yellow. Did you forget you’re a local celebrity? C-tier at least.” As a ‘socialite’ she was often in the news attending charity events or fashion galas. The kind of fluff pieces that Peach always got assigned, so Bowser watched them obsessively. Not that he needed to mention that part right now.

“Dammit,” Yellow muttered under her breath. “I knew I should have worn a mask.”

“Yeah I have no idea why none of you do. The toads get a pass, but are humans all faceblind?”

“If we are maybe nobody will press charges,” Yellow said, optimistically.

“Prioritize food, water, medicine, and diapers,” Bowser said. He grimaced. “You have no idea how bad it is being a parent and running out of diapers. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.”

Yellow’s face lit up. “You have a kid?”

Bowser was still reluctant to talk about his family, but Yellow definitely wasn’t the type to go after his family out of revenge. He honestly wasn’t even sure the idea would occur to her. “I have a son.”

“Aww! How old is he?”

“Six.”

“Aww!”

Bowser pointed at the other heroes. “You, Yellow-2.”

“Can I be orange?” the yellow toad asked. “My costume is mostly orange.”

“Fine, I don’t care, you’re going with Yellow, Orange. You’re getting a boat and a walkie, I want you to check back in at least hourly.”

Both of them answered affirmatively, and Bowser passed them off to Steve before turning back to the group.

“Identity thief, you’re going to be on road safety.”

“I’m not an identity thief!” the pink toadette exclaimed.

“Not anymore,” Bowser said. “But I’m sure as hell not calling you Red.”

The toadette nodded. “I… I can just be Pink.”

“Fine, Pink, those stupid turnips of yours can get big as hell, can’t they?”

“They can get really big,” she agreed.

“You’re getting a boat and a walkie, I want you to go around and find anything that's floating that's big enough to hurt somebody. Block it in, weigh it down, do whatever you have to so it’s not moving anymore.” He gestured at the yoshi. “You go with her, you’ll be able to move stuff around with your tongue and hop on whatever you can’t..”

The yoshi gave an affirmative chirp.

That left the blue toad. He looked up at Bowser with wide eyes, and swallowed.

“You’re with me,” Bowser said. 

“Wh- why should I go with you?”

“Because you don’t weigh much so we’ll make better time.”

“No, I mean, why should I listen to you?”

Bowser was mostly surprised none of them had asked that earlier. If you spoke authoritatively enough, people tended to obey before they thought things through, but the so-called heroes were usually pretty strong-willed. Stubborn, bull-headed, whatever you wanted to call it. A lot like Bowser himself.

The difference was, Bowser knew what he was doing. He had years of experience running a business and handling disasters, albeit usually ones he caused himself.

Bowser spread his arms and raised his voice. “Does anybody have any better ideas?”

Once again, there was awkward silence.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “So you’re coming with me, Blue, and we’re going to pick up supplies and some lunch.”

The blue toad blinked. “Lunch?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“No!” he said quickly. “Everyone needs fuel to keep going, right?”

“Exactly.” Bowser said, patting the toad on the head. “See? I knew you could be reasonable. Go talk to Jessie and find out which boat we can use.”

“Okay!”

The toad ran off, and Bowser watched to make sure he didn’t rethink things before getting to the other side of the barge. Aside from nearly tripping over Peach’s sound guy, he made it without incident.

Finally, Bowser turned back to Luigi and the beanish, both of whom had tucked away any free-flowing parts of their costumes and armed themselves with flashlights. They looked ready to dive.

Bowser sighed. He gave the beanish a warning glare, then pulled Luigi away to speak with him.

“You’ll be careful, right?”

“I will,” Luigi said. “I promise. I don’t want anything to happen to me either.”

“Good.”

He looked at Luigi for a long time, drinking in his face, wishing he could say all the things he wanted to…

Luigi reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. “You be careful too, okay?”

Bowser smiled. “C’mon. It’s me.”

He bent down, and Luigi stood on his toes to meet him, and they kissed all-to-briefly.

“All right, go,” Bowser said. “Before I stop you.”

It made his stomach clench to watch Luigi sink into the water, even if he trusted him, and trusted the oxygen masks he’d made. Bowser didn’t often get the things he wanted. It still felt like Luigi might be torn from his grasp at any moment.

“Hi!” a furious voice exclaimed behind him. Bowser turned, and looked down, to see Peach striding across the barge, mic I hand, leading her entire crew. “What was that?” Peach demanded.

The words were friendly and she still had a TV smile glued to her face, but she hadn’t looked this angry since… the seventh or eighth time he kidnapped her? The time she only had makeup on one eye.

“What was what?” Bowser asked.

“That,” Peach said. “You and Super Green!”

He glanced behind her, at the crew of toads, camera and microphone pointed right at his face. “Are you filming this?”

“We’re live,” Peach said, smile fixed into a grimace.

“Well, in that case.” Bowser grinned, bent over, and picked up the camera, toad and all. “Hello city, I’m Bowser, I’m bisexual, and I’m absolutely available to host next year’s pride parade.”

“Um,” the cameratoad said, feet kicking helplessly in the air. “That’s cool and I totally support you? But our feed actually got cut about a minute ago.”

“Dammit!” Peach exclaimed. “Why?”

One of the other toads spoke up. All of them had earbuds attached to their mushroom caps, but this one had a clipboard and looked the most official. “We’re broadcasting on a fifteen second delay,” he said. “The station didn’t want to air Super Green’s private business like that.” He paused. “Well, probably more likely they thought the scandal would overshadow the flood.”

“Or they’re saving the reveal for the evening show,” Bowser said. He’d heard Peach rant about work often enough that he understood how this worked. The evening news got the highest viewership by a factor of ten.

“The evening show!” Peach hissed it like a curse. “Dammit, you-” She whirled on Bowser and reared back like she was about to hit him.

“Hey now,” Bowser said. “I’m still holding your cameraguy here.”

“Put him down so I can punch you!”

“I’d prefer not to?” Bowser said. “I mean, it’s not gonna hurt, but still.”

“What was that?” Peach demanded again. “You and Luigi? How long have you been after him?”

“I haven’t!” Bowser said. “Look, I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, I know I did everything wrong with you, but I did actually learn from that! I didn’t go after Luigi. I even turned him down the first time he hit on me.”

“He hit on you?” Peach scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“You can ask him when he comes back up!” Bowser waved at the water with his free hand. The cameratoad squeaked as he swayed in the air.

“Did you lie to him?” Peach asked. “Did you tell him you’ve changed, you can be different, you’re going straight?” Her words dripped with mockery.

“No, and I’m not. I can’t, no one’s going to accept me if I try.”

“Look at what you’ve been doing all day!” Peach said. She gestured at the blue toad, still waiting awkwardly off to the side. “You got all these heroes to jump at your order.”

“I know how to manage a team, that’s all.”

“You’re trying to take over!”

“No I’m not!”

“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? To be in control?”

“I just want things to be different!” Bowser exclaimed. “I’ve always been different, I wanted to not have to feel that way!”

Peach pressed her lips together, dampening down her rage a little. “What about Luigi? You know what- what Mario would say, don’t you?” She glared at him again. “Is that why? Is this revenge?”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” Bowser asked. “Have I ever tried to date anyone I didn’t like?”

Peach gritted her teeth, but she looked chagrined. “So you… you care about him?”

“Yes. I do.”

Peach sighed. “If you ever hurt him…”

“He beat the shit out of me six months ago, remember? If I hurt him I’ll get what’s coming to me.”

“He did do that,” Peach said, nodding to herself. The thought of it seemed to satisfy her. “I’m… going to have to talk to Luigi about his taste later.”

“Hey,” Bowser shrugged. “I’m as surprised as anybody.”

The next couple hours passed in mostly boredom. Bowser and the other heroes traveled around the city helping where they could. He and the blue toad went back to the old lair to gather more oxygen tanks for the masks, and on the way back he noticed the same apartment that had been playing Deep Purple earlier had switched to the Beatles, Octopus’s Garden, at full volume. If Bowser was his neighbor he’d probably hate the guy, but at least it provided some entertainment.

He waved at the window as they passed, and he thought he saw the flash of a camera through the glass. How many people just like that guy must be watching from their windows? Filming, maybe even livestreaming. Did they think he was taking advantage of the chaos?

Before Bowser could get too worried about it, the window opened and the occupant shouted down at them. “Got any requests?”

Bowser shouted back, “Something heavy!”

The occupant gave him a thumbs up, and a moment later his speaker blasted the street with the opening riffs of Thunderstruck by AC/DC.

It didn’t fit the theme, but hey, it felt pretty good to have a soundtrack.

Luigi checked in every half an hour. At first he hadn’t found much, all normal debris, he said. But two hours in his voice crackled over the walkie with far more urgency than it had before.

“You okay?” Bowser asked, quickly. “Where are you? I’m in a boat, I can be right there.”

“I’m fine,” Luigi said. “But I think I know what’s happening. Do you remember the second time you met me as Bernie? There were piranha plants coming out of the sewer and blocking traffic.”

“‘Course I remember,” Bowser said. “You electrocuted the thing. They’re still down there?”

“At first I thought the vines were just washed down here with the rain, but they’re moving,” Luigi said.

“Can plants drown?” Bowser asked.

“Yes,” Luigi said. “But it takes time, and it won’t get the vines out of the pipes.”

“True…” Bowser said thoughtfully. “And you can’t use your powers underwater.”

“I’m sure not going to risk it!” Luigi agreed. “The thing is, it doesn’t make sense for a whole bunch of piranha plants to independently take up residence down here. It must be a colony - a huge one. And if it’s a colony we can find the central plant.”

“You have a plan,” Bowser said, smiling.

“I think so, but… You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me,” Bowser said.

“I have to piss it off.”

Bowser growled. “You're right. I don't like it.”

“If me and Peasley can agitate it enough to leave the sewers-”

“You're using names now?” Bowser interrupted.

“He doesn't have a color that anybody else isn't using. And you don't get to decide what I call people!”

“I don't like that guy,” Bowser said. “He looks like a poser.”

He heard Luigi exhale. “He's right next to me, you know.”

“Yeah I figured.”

“Okay we can talk about this later,” Luigi said. “But for the record, jealousy isn't cute.”

Bowser heard the beanish’s voice, slightly muffled, add, “My intentions toward Super Green are entirely honorable!”

“You have intentions?” Bowser said.

“I'm turning off the walkie-talkie now,” Luigi said.

“Wait wait wait,” Bowser said quickly. “I'm sorry, go back. You're going to piss a giant piranha plant off? On purpose?”

“Yes. It's the best plan we've got and you can't stop me anyway.”

He growled, but he knew Luigi was right. “Fine. Just be careful, okay?” Bowser said.

“I will, don't worry.”

“I’m going to worry,” Bowser said. “You can’t stop me.

He could hear the smile in Luigi's voice. “I know.”

“When the main body does pop out, any idea where it's going to be?”

“Oh, um… No,” Luigi said, realization sinking in.

“Do you know where the biggest exits to the sewers are?” Bowser asked. “I know the one you started at, but any others?”

“I think this thing will be big enough to break through the street.”

“It’s still a place to start,” Bowser said.

“Right, right,” Luigi agreed. He listed off a few locations and Bowser snapped his claws at the blue toad to write them down.

Once Luigi was done, Bowser turned the information over in his head. All of those streets were major thoroughfares. “This could be bad,” he said.

“Worse than leaving the city flooded for who-knows-how-long?”

“Mm. Good point.” He thought for a while longer, tapping his claws on the side of the boat. “Blame me,” Bowser said at last.

“What?”

“If the city gets mad, blame it on me.”

“I’m not going to do that!”

“It’s fine, I can take it.”

“No!” Luigi said. “Don’t you realize what you’ve been doing today?”

“What?” Bowser asked. He remembered what Peach had said. “Getting heroes to jump at my order?”

“That’s what we needed!” Luigi said. “Look, I’ll explain the rest later, but just- just trust me, okay? I’ve been reading enough about PR recently… I think I know what to do. But for now, trust me.”

“I do,” Bowser said. “Okay. Be careful. Again.”

“I will. Again.”

When Bowser tucked the walkie under the rim of his shell he saw the blue toad staring at him. He’d been stuck at Bowser’s side all afternoon, none of this should be a surprise.

“Got a problem?” Bowser said.

“No…” he said. “I think I know what Super Green’s getting at.”

“So?”

“You said you wanted to make things different, right? That’s what you said to that reporter.”

“So?”

“There’s lots of ways to do that, is all.” The toad raised his phone, where he’d typed in the street locations. “Where to, boss?”

They were still heading back to the barge with supplies, held up by needing to help a few people who tried to venture out and got stuck, when the consequences of Luigi’s plan kicked in. A huge vine covered in spikes, burst out of the water and flailed around. The little motorboat almost capsized, and when Bowser took a turn too fast they tilted so much the blue toad nearly tumbled out. Bowser had to let go of the steering column to grab him and they crashed into a misplaced dumpster.

Bowser turned the engine off - they weren’t stable enough to move and fight this thing at the same time. “Hold the fort,” he ordered the toad, who nodded. Then Bowser rolled out of the boat and into the water.

The vine had been joined by a flower, chomping at the debris churned up by its thrashing. Bowser had to dodge the sweeps of thorny plant matter as he got close enough to blast fire at the thing. No plant could stand up to a concentrated jet of flame.

Or a chain of fireballs, for that matter. As the piranha plant tried to shrink away Bowser saw them drop off the closest building, half hitting it and burning through its skin, the rest dropping to fizzle out in the water. Bowser glared up at the roof just in time to see a hooded figure disappear out of sight.

Fine, if that’s what he wanted to do Bowser wouldn’t call him out.

It only took one more flame before the flower dropped off the stem and the vine fell limp. Bowser grabbed it and yanked as much out of the sewer as he could, several yards of thorns finally coming up with an end that had been torn roughly, like shredded fabric. Looked like Bowser pulled too hard.

He glanced up at the roofline again, saw nothing, and hauled himself back into the boat for the trip back.

Deploying the other heroes to the locations Luigi suggested turned out to be premature. Smaller piranha plants kept appearing all over the city, and leaving them where they were wasn’t an option. Even Bowser and his assistant toad had to split up, the barge staying put and all the boats sent out with one hero apiece. Everyone was so busy that Bowser almost forgot to keep track of the time.

Almost. 45 minutes had passed and he was starting to panic, when finally the walkie crackled to life with Luigi’s voice.

“It’s bad down there,” he said, breathing heavily. “And we definitely made it worse.”

“It’s getting bad up here too,” Bowser said. He’d come back to the barge for fuel and found the minions had to break out the handful of weapons they’d packed to keep piranha plants from swarming them. He let Steve take the last boat out to get them more, since he’d make better time.

“One more push,” Luigi said, firmly. “If this doesn’t work, nothing will. Brace yourselves.”

“Gotcha. Go get ‘em, greenie.”

He focused back on keeping the plants away from the barge, trying to ignore Peach and her crew still filming everything, trying to ignore the aching fear in his gut, trying not to work himself up before the final boss appeared.

And then all the water around them suddenly churned like the whole city had been shaken. The barge swayed so much that several minions lost their balance, and Bowser had to catch that producer toad.

He immediately grabbed the walkie and spoke into the open channel. “Where is it? Anyone see it?”

“Not here,” Yellow said from her position to the north.

“Or here,” the blue toad said, from the west.

“Yoshi!” the yoshi said, but it sounded negative.

A voice cracked across the channels. “Museum!” the pink toadette exclaimed, frantic. “There’s a huge plant at the history museum! I’ve never seen one this big!”

Shit, that was blocks away and the barge didn’t have an engine. Bowser looked down at the water, still churning, and gritted his teeth.

“Be right there,” he said into the walkie. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

Marching through a flood was a lot harder than wading in a pool. The water was resisting him, not to mention full of garbage, and every step seemed to send another vine popping out of another sewer grate. Bowser almost wondered if it would be faster to swim, but he wasn’t exactly speedy at that either. Koopas weren’t sea turtles, after all.

But for once Bowser was glad for his size, because anyone smaller wouldn’t be able to do this at all. He pushed through debris that would have knocked over a physically lesser man without so much as a flinch.

He could hear the fight before he saw it, crashing and splashing and shouting. The white piranha plant vines were lashing around, but most of them were tangled with Super Yellow’s green vines. Which gave Bowser an idea.

He took a breath and yelled as loud as he could, “Oy! Yellow!”

A few seconds later Super Yellow appeared, hanging from the building next to the history museum. She seemed to get what he meant, because she put out her hand and vines shot down the street. Bowser grabbed them with both hands and then, to his surprise, Yellow disappeared. What was she-

He was yanked forward so hard the vines almost slipped from his grip, but whatever Yellow had tied the other end too was pulling so hard it was easier to just lean forward and let himself be dragged through the water until he finally let go and stumbled to a stop right in front of the history museum.

Of course. The piranha queen.

It was nearly as tall as the building itself, at least three extra heads growing off of its main body and snapping at the heroes as they tried to get close enough to do some damage. Luigi was there, and that beanish, and Bowser could already tell Luigi wasn’t going to use his powers effectively. Everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Yellow was trying to use her vines to pin the thing down, its body already tangled up like a cat with yarn, but the smaller heads kept snapping through them. It looked like Yellow had wrapped the vines Bowser was holding around the piranha queen’s body and then led it to chase her around in circles. Smart, but now Yellow was dizzy, and the pink toadette had to stop throwing turnips into the queen’s giant maw to hold her up.

Bowser scanned the situation and evaluated what they had. All the other heroes had made it before him, but not all of them had powers. Fire, lightning, vines and vegetables. Some too destructive and some not enough.

The history museum was elevated off street level, which gave them the advantage of dry land and meant the artifacts would have escaped flood damage - but also meant they didn’t have much room to maneuver despite the wide landing in front of the entryway, and if Bowser wasn’t careful he’d set fire to the place and cause even worse damage. That awful statue of Super Red had already been knocked over, candles and food wrappers scattered beneath the piranha queen’s roots.

Driving it into the street wouldn’t work either, it might decide to just slip back into the sewers and they’d be right back where they started. They had to keep it here and destroy it without burning anything else down.

Brute force it was then.

“Pincer maneuver,” Bowser shouted. “Cool colors to the left, warm colors to the right, block it in! Yellow, do your best!”

“Roger!” Yellow shouted back, planting her feet and summoning more vines.

“Greenie, glad to see you, whenever you can, zap it!”

“Roger!” Luigi shouted.

“Everybody else, stay out of my way.”

Bowser cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck, as the piranha queen lowered two of its mouths to snap at him.

Finally, some stress relief.

The fight didn’t go on nearly as long as Bowser would have liked, though there was something very satisfying about ripping the plant blooms off one-by-one with his bare hands. Like weeding. He could let out a little fire here and there, when he was close enough to damage only as much of the plant as was directly in front of him.

Clawing, tearing, biting out chunks whenever he could. It wasn’t often Bowser had the opportunity to really let go like this, and he fully indulged himself while he could.

When the plant was too injured to flee he stood back, wiped his mouth, and gestured for the other heroes to come in. They should land the final blows, that was only right. He watched the pink toadette smash the head bloom with the biggest turnip he’d seen yet, and then Luigi told everyone to stand back and he shocked the thing so hard it sizzled.

The piranha queen lay there, limp, vines shriveling as they watched, and the heroes cheered and started slapping each other on the backs.

Bowser could hear a few more triumphant voices coming from the buildings nearby. He’d forgotten they had an audience. If any of the split-off piranha plants were still in the sewers they’d start to migrate to better territory without the central intelligence keeping them unified. It might not be long at all before the water started draining, and that meant Bowser had to get moving. He glanced around for the best route, and decided to get out of sight first and ducked into the space between the buildings.

Part of the Super Red statue had been knocked all the way over here. A leg and part of the cape, he thought. Bowser was kind of tempted to take it as a trophy, but he was in enough trouble already. If anybody saw him they’d think he was being petty. Which he was, but they didn’t need to know that.

One person was already watching him. A short figure in a ratty hoodie, remarkably dry compared to everyone else who’d been in and out of water all day.

“Gonna go out there?” Bowser asked.

“Why?” Mario asked, shrugging half-heartedly.

“I saw you earlier. Were you running around helping all day?”

“Not all day,” he said. “I got worried, I wanted to find my brother.”

“He’s over there,” Bowser said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“I… I know.”

“You could go. You could help. People will be glad to see you.”

“No they won’t,” Mario said. He had that dark tone to his voice again.

“Yes they will. Come on. You know how beloved you were.”

“That’s part of the problem,” Mario said. “They’ll expect me to go back, to be the same paragon I was before, but I never was. And pretending was killing me.”

“So let them down!” Bowser said. “Is it the end of the world if the city decides you’re not perfect? You’d rather they all think you’re-”

“Mario?” a voice cracked behind him.

Bowser turned as slowly as he could. He’d caught a glimpse of the stricken look on Mario’s face, and he already knew what he’d see.

It was Peach. She stood near the broken leg of the statue, holding a flat piece of stone that looked like it had broken off. She must have been gathering the pieces, Bowser realized, trying to salvage what she could of what had become the memorial to the man she loved. And now that man was standing in front of her, disheveled and depressed, but very much alive.

“Is that really you?” Peach asked, softly. As if she spoke any louder and the illusion would disappear.

“Amnesia!” Bowser blurted. “He’s- he has amnesia. Luigi and I only found him yesterday.”

“Wh- what?” Peach glanced back and forth between them. “How can that- I don’t understand. I saw your body!”

“It was a prank,” Bowser said. “Just supposed to scare him, hey, fake body dressed in your costume. I guess the prank got tripped at the same time he hit his head and lost his memory. Everything was so nuts that day I forgot about it too.”

Mario grabbed his arm, and Bowser leaned over. “What are you doing?” Mario hissed. “She’s not going to believe-”

Peach stepped forward, tears filling her eyes. “Do… do you remember me?”

Mario stared at her blankly. Bowser was sure he was making a similar face, he’d only been about half sure that would work.

“He’s lying,” Mario said. “He’s… covering for me. I didn’t have amnesia, and there was no prank. I stole a pig carcass from a butcher and I ran away.”

His voice was flat, but even Bowser could hear the misery in it. He was sure Mario would be bracing himself to be slapped, or yelled at, or worse.

“Why?” Peach said, after a few seconds of stunned silence. Yep. That was worse.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Mario shook his head. “Bowser thinks I have burnout. All I know is… I’d crashed into the butcher shop, and I was lying there on the floor, and I thought about how jealous I was of that dead pig. How I’d rather die than go back out there and keep doing this day after day.”

The tears in Peach’s eyes spilled down her cheeks, and she closed the distance between them and embraced Mario so tightly she wrinkled his hoodie.

Feeling awkward for a lot of reasons he didn’t want to think about, Bowser tried to literally back out of this situation, but he only made it a couple steps before he bumped into Luigi.

It was good to see him without immediate danger. Despite his dripping-wet costume, Bowser swept him into a hug as well.

“Oof. Glad to see you too, by the way.”

“Your brother’s in trouble,” Bowser hissed.

“I saw,” Luigi said. “It was nice of you to try and give him an excuse.”

“You heard all that?” Bowser said. He set Luigi down and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s what I’d want someone to do for me.”

He glanced back to see Peach had raised her head. She whispered something to Mario, who looked startled and nodded.

“Get home,” Peach said. “I’ll call you. And you,” she glared at Bowser. “How did you come up with that story so quickly? I mean, amnesia? Really? I didn’t think you were the soap opera type.”

“Soap opera nothing,” Bowser huffed. “Do you have any idea how often superheroes in comic books are getting amnesia, or falling into a timeslip, or a pocket dimension, or getting replaced by alien shapeshifters?”

“The real world only has one of those things.”

“That we know about,” Bowser said.

Luigi giggled, that little laugh of his that Bowser loved so much. “Come on,” he said, taking Bowser’s hand.

“What? Come where.”

“Out front,” Luigi said. “They’ll want to see you too.”

“They, who’s they?”

It was every person in at least three square blocks, looked like. The street was packed with bodies. The water had drained even faster than Bowser thought it would, though it seemed like the people were still sloshing through it up to their ankles. But it didn’t matter, they were cheering and laughing and even dancing. Bowser saw some of the heroes mingling among them, the blue toad crowd-surfing and the yoshi hopping around with a bunch of its fellows.

“Bowser!” someone exclaimed, and part of the crowd rushed up the steps to the museum. Bowser flinched back and braced himself.

“Get back, you savages!” Bowser roared. He felt flame licking between his teeth, and then suddenly Luigi was in front of him putting his hands on Bowser’s stomach to stop him.

“Sorry, sorry!” Luigi said to the gathered people. “He’s just not used to positive reinforcement.”

A few people looked confused, but then Super Yellow appeared at his side, raised her fist in the air and shouted, “Let’s hear it for Bowser!”

The crowd cheered.

She cupped her hands around her mouth. “I can’t hear you!”

They cheered again, louder, whoops and whistles coming from the people further out in the street. Someone started up a chant of his name. “Bow-ser! Bow-ser! Bow-ser!”

This… had never happened before. His minions liked him, but thirty people in a lab were nothing like a street full of at least a hundred.

“What’s happening?” Bowser asked, absently.

“You’re smiling,” Luigi said to him.

“I know that,” Bowser said, though he hadn’t realized when he started. “I- I mean, they’re treating me like a hero.”

“You are a hero,” Luigi said. “You saved the city, don’t you get that?”

“Everybody fought that stupid plant.”

“You did most of the damage,” Luigi said. “And I mean before that, I mean all day.”

“All I did was keep everyone organized!”

“Do you think we’d have been able to do this without someone taking that role?” Luigi asked. “Bowser, you can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Be a hero. Switch sides. Go straight!”

“Gross,” Bowser said.

Luigi laughed. “Me and Mario always caused nearly as much property damage as you did, but we got away with it because people liked us. How many of your crimes do you think the city will forgive if they love you?” His eyes were twinkling. “Because I’m betting on ‘all’.”

“I… I don’t know.”

Cars had started to appear on the street. A few white vans with bright logos on the sides that Bowser recognized as the local news stations. Oh, shit. Normally that meant he either needed to leave or make his antics a lot more theatrical, but Luigi was squeezing his hand so he couldn’t get away.

“Okay, interviews 101,” Luigi said. “They’re all going to be shouting your name at once, you pick who you want to answer, make eye contact and point, and the others will quiet down.”

Bowser nodded.

“Keep your answers short and to the point. If you go off on a tangent they’ill pick and choose what they want to broadcast, and you don’t want that.”

“I thought they liked me now,” Bowser said.

“All they care about is ratings,” Luigi said. “But you turning hero is going to be big news, so they’re on your side. For now.”

“Okay,” Bowser said.

“If anybody asks something too personal, or you just don’t want to answer, end the interview. Just say ‘no more questions’ and walk away.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Don’t swear.”

Bowser gritted his teeth. “I’ll do my best.”

“You can do it,” Luigi said. “Imagine you’re talking to your son. No swearing, keep it simple, make yourself sound cool but not conceited.”

“I… I can try,” Bowser said.

“I believe in you,” Luigi said. He took a step to the side, and Bowser watched people stream out of the vehicles, cameras and microphones at the ready. He saw Peach rush out of the alley and into the crowd to find her crew, and suddenly wondered where his own minions were. He’d feel a lot better if he could seed the crowd.

But… Luigi was at his side. He’d faced scarier things than this. Probably.

Just as described, the reporters gathered into a pack on the steps, all of them saying Bowser’s name. They did see Super Green standing right here, didn’t they? And the other heroes out there celebrating? But all they cared about was him?

Bowser found himself smiling again.

Actually… this might not be so bad.

Luigi had been worried about Bowser facing the press with only a few seconds’ coaching, but he handled his interview remarkably well. He put on that cocky asshole persona he wore when he was doing his villain thing, but without the threats it came off as more charming. Luigi knew he didn’t need to worry when he answered the question about why he decided to help the heroes with, “I live here too!”

Still, Luigi stayed by his side for about ten minutes, when Bowser was clearly getting bored of the same types of questions about his intentions, and interrupted. “We should be going,” he said. “We’ve both- we’ve all got families to get back to.”

“What about your family, Super Green?” a reporter said, raising her voice over the din of the others.

Luigi recognized her, she was from the same station as Peach was, but much higher on the ladder. Their station had spent a lot of time aggrandizing the heroes and demonizing Bowser… Which, at the time, felt like it was only right, but now…

“Can you really work beside the man who killed your brother?” the reporter asked.

Luigi’s mind went blank. He wanted to say something smart, something about forgiveness, or accidents, but he couldn’t think of a word. He felt Bowser’s finger’s clench around his hand.

“All right,” Bowser said, anger rising in his tone, “how is it your business if-”

“He didn’t!” Mario said.

He was still hiding around the corner of the building, no one noticing a grungy man in nondescript clothes. But when he crossed in front of the museum and pulled off his hood, all eyes fell on the decapitated head of the statue still lying on the ground a few feet away.

Mario stood on Luigi’s other side, and the reporters began shouting questions. What happened, where had he been, why was he back now?

It had been a dramatic moment, and it was the right thing to do, but Luigi could tell Mario hadn’t thought about what came next.

“I…” Mario’s eyes drifted across the sea of reporters, looking like Bowser had not that long ago, and finally answered, “fell into a pocket dimension.”

“That’s right,” Luigi said, quickly stepping forward, putting himself between his brother and the microphones. “Bowser and I just rescued him yesterday, but we didn’t know how to tell the public. Especially since it was an awful experience for him, so he’s going to need time to recover.”

Mario nodded along, widening his eyes and doing his best to look pathetic, which didn’t seem hard for him at the moment.

A few more questions were shouted at them, but Luigi ignored all of them and said, “No more questions, we both need to rest. Be safe out there, citizens!”

He dragged his brother around the opposite corner this time, Bowser jogging along behind.

“Stole my idea,” Bowser said mildly.

“It was the first thing I could think of,” Mario said, looking sheepish.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here. If my minions remember protocol I should be able to give you both a ride.”

Bowser’s team had a large delivery truck parked down the street, painted in a dull gray with a faded logo on the side that couldn’t be read. It was so nondescript Luigi wouldn’t be surprised if he’d seen it plenty of times around the city and it never registered.

“What protocol was this?” Luigi asked.

He recognized the koopa behind the wheel but couldn’t remember his name. “We’ve got lots of protocols for fleeing scenes,” the driver said. “This is the one for when we don’t have to worry about leaving evidence behind.”

“The giant barge in the middle of the street isn't evidence?” Mario asked.

Bowser shot him a look. “When did you see- My people are good at dismantling, it's probably cleared up already.”

“It fit in only three trucks!” the driver said cheerfully.

The cab was a lot bigger than it looked, modified to extend into the bed of the truck. Mario and Luigi both squeezed the passenger seat while Bowser made himself comfortable in the back. The streets were still damp, and still full of garbage and vines, so the driver had to take it pretty slow. That left only a few minutes for Luigi to get his thoughts in order.

But Bowser beat him to it, tapping him on the shoulder so Luigi turned his head.

“I’d love to invite you over,” he said softly, “but we both really do need to get back to our families.”

“Yeah,” Luigi agreed. “I need a hot bath and to sleep for half a day.”

Everyone else in the truck murmured in agreement.

Bowser cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Uh, thanks, by the way, Red. For showing your face.”

“I owed you,” Mario said, staring forward at the road. “I… I still don’t like what’s going on with you and my brother, but I’m not going to let you get punished for my failure.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Luigi said.

“Hey,” the driver spoke up suddenly. “Are you Super Red?”

Bowser sighed from the backseat. “Yes, Adrien, who did you think we were looking for last week?”

“Aren’t you dead?” Adrien asked.

“No,” Mario said, bluntly.

“That’s good,” Adrien said. “I mean, I know you’re our enemy and stuff, but that sucked that you died.”

For the first time since they’d found him yesterday, Mario let out a laugh. It seemed to take him by surprise. “Yeah,” Mario agreed, “that did suck. I’m glad I’m back.”

Luigi squeezed his hand. “Me too,” he said.

He reached his other hand over his shoulder so Bowser could take it. For just a moment, Luigi was holding on to both of the people he cared about most in the world.

He was sitting in a truck cab driving through a city that was going to need weeks - if not months - of disaster relief, he was dirty and cold and wet, he wasn’t looking forward to finding out if that thirst account had gotten any new picture submissions of his suit clinging to him…

But for that one moment, Luigi couldn’t imagine being happier.

Chapter Text

The thing about life was, it was weird.

A year ago Luigi had been perfectly satisfied with his lot. He had a job and a hobby that he enjoyed, he had his brother, he had friends - albeit not many. And then he lost his brother, he pulled away from his friends, he got frustrated with his hobby… and fell in love with someone he didn't know was his arch-enemy.

Six months ago he got his brother back, and now he was standing hand-in-hand with that enemy, looking up at the replacement statue in front of the place everything had changed. Twice.

“It's worse now,” Bowser said. “It's not just me, right? That's worse.”

“It is worse,” Luigi agreed.

The city had decided to replace the Super Red statue in front of the history museum with one celebrating all the city's superheroes in general; but they hadn't bothered to make a new design, they only removed the distinguishing features from the Super Red design. That left very few features at all.

“It looks like one of those creepy faceless mannequins,” Bowser said.

“I think the faced ones are creepier,” Luigi said. “Like old porcelain dolls.” He shuddered.

“You’re scared of dolls?” Bowser said, laughter in his voice. He tugged Luigi’s hand and they started walking downtown.

“I wouldn’t say I’m scared, they’re just creepy!”

“Dolls. Children’s toys.”

“You’re scared of clowns!”

Bowser’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s- So’re lots of people! That’s not weird!”

“I’m just saying.” Luigi squeezed the two fingers he could wrap his own around. “Glass houses.”

They were getting glances as they walked down the street. It was officially summer and the weather was finally reflecting it, so Luigi had given up the warm coats and hats that kept him camouflaged for the last few months. It hadn’t actually made that much of a difference. People saw a guy with a mustache walking with Bowser, and they put the clues together.

Luigi had been surprised how quickly he got used to it. It was very rare for anyone to approach them or say anything, so all it meant was a few extra eyes on them whenever they went on dates. Spending time with someone as imposing as Bowser was going to lead to that whether they were famous or not.

Sometimes, when the eyes were jealous, it was even kind of satisfying.

“Where are we going?” Luigi asked, after Bowser had stopped sputtering. He usually let Bowser plan their dates. It made him happy, and Luigi only knew a handful of good restaurants anyway.

“Scouting,” Bowser said. “I gotta sweettalk a client next week, so you and me are going to try this rooftop cafe and see if it’s pretentious enough.”

Luigi laughed. “I thought it was just bars or nightclubs that decided to open on rooftops. You want to get people so drunk they don’t mind the wind.”

“Exactly! That’s another reason I need to scout it.”

“Sure,” Luigi said. “I can help you ‘scout.’”

He’d used this excuse a few times, when he wanted to take Luigi somewhere expensive without making him feel indebted. One of these days Luigi would have to tell him he wasn’t falling for it, but it was cute how hard he tried to keep the story going.

The rooftop cafe didn’t have a dress code, or Bowser would have warned him (he’d learned that lesson the hard way). Most of the other patrons were young, college types or - like Bowser, in theory - entertaining business clients. The food was overpriced as Luigi expected, but he tried to ignore it. He knew Bowser had already sold a lot of his disguise watches in secret and was working on new applications for the tech.

And since he didn’t have to work today, Luigi decided it would be okay to have some wine with lunch. He hadn’t wanted Mario to get back to their actual day jobs too soon, but the plumbing business hadn’t been what burned him out, and Mario said he was going crazy with nothing to do all day. Once his therapist cleared it they'd started out only one job a week, then two, and now they were splitting up the clients just like they used to. As long as they planned ahead, either of them could take a day off whenever they wanted.

Right now, Luigi’s entire plan for the day consisted of whatever Bowser wanted. And though that thought would have been more than a little concerning a year ago, today it sounded pretty good.

He was half a glass in before the plan fell apart. Eating on a rooftop made a nice change of pace, but it also meant that for once Luigi saw trouble coming before he felt it. Some kind of shadow passing between buildings, far higher than a vehicle and too wide for construction equipment. He sighed and considered if it would be worth it to finish his wine.

“What the hell is that?” Bowser asked, when the sound of laughter reached their ears. He twisted around in his chair, couldn’t see anything, and finally stood up.

He wasn’t the only one, several of the cafe’s patrons had jumped up and ran to the edge of the roof to watch the whatever-it-was approach. Looked like an airship, though rounder and smaller than most of Bowser’s, and currently broadcasting a voice through crackling speakers.

"Eeeyah ha ha ha ha!”

Bowser groaned. “This guy,” he said, voice dripping with disdain.

“You know him?” Luigi asked. “Old client?”

“No, he builds his own stuff, but we used to run in the same circles,” Bowser said. He grimaced. “He’s… loud.” Another peal of laughter echoed through the streets. “And that’s me saying that.”

“Have you readiness, idiots of foolishness? Your city is mine for the taking away!”

This was the only downside to Bowser switching teams. Without one villain calling dibs, plenty of others had tried to shoot their shot. Most of them were easy enough to take down, but they did a lot of damage if they weren’t stopped quickly. And they didn’t live here, so they weren’t exactly considerate about it.

“You want to handle it, or should I?” Luigi asked.

Bowser raised his eyebrows. “You sure you should drink and hero?”

“Please. My people invented wine.”

“I bet that’s not true,” Bowser said.

“Well, we’re up there. So it’ll take a lot more than a couple sips to impair my judgement.”

The villain was still ranting through the speakers. They weren’t balanced properly, and the sound was slightly layered on top of itself. If his wiring was that bad, it would only take Luigi a few minutes to take down the ship.

“No,” Bowser said, his voice firm. “It’s a pride thing. If some two-bit villain thinks they can take over my city, they’re gonna have to answer to me.”

“Okay,” Luigi said. “Want me to film it for the blog?” One of Bowser’s younger cousins had been recruited to run his social media. She’d gotten a crash course from Daisy and seemed to be enjoying it. Luigi had no idea if she was actually getting paid.

“Yes please!” Bowser said, instantly cheerful again. “You’re the best.”

He handed Luigi his phone and kissed the top of his head, then crossed the seating area of the cafe, dodging chairs and gawkers. A couple people in the small crowd gathered to watch the weird shouting villain noticed him, and pushed the others to the side to make room.

“Thanks,” Bowser said. He tossed off a mock-salute as he put one hand on top of the glass barrier, designed to stop people from falling off but only coming up to his shoulder. “Don’t try this at home,” he said, and vaulted over the wall.

Luigi took advantage of the moment of shock to get as close to the glass as he could before the rest of the crowd moved in. If he wanted good footage he’d need a clear shot of the action. Though if he really wanted to enjoy it, he should have remembered to bring the rest of his wine…

“Hey.” A young woman, squeezed in next to him, was staring intently at Luigi instead of the villain’s ship. “Aren’t you…”

“Yes,” Luigi said.

“Are you gonna go help him?”

“I will if I need to,” Luigi said. “But he’s got it handled, don’t you think?”

In the few seconds since he jumped down, Bowser had already charged down the block and was currently scaling a streetlight in preparation to jump on the airship. The villain, naively, was swooping down closer to try and attack him. The young woman whipped out her own phone just in time to get video of Bowser ripping out the bottom of the ship like disemboweling an animal.

“Y’know what, I think he’s got this handled,” the woman said.

Soon more cafe patrons joined them, ooh-ing and gasping as they watched. It made the experience feel more like a sporting event than a battle for the safety of the city, but getting to sit back and watch like this was a refreshing change of pace.

Luigi’s phone buzzed, and he had to balance Bowser’s against the barrier while he answered it. He already knew it would be Mario, and slotted his phone between shoulder and ear so he could keep filming.

“Hey. I’m fine.”

“Just checking,” Mario said. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know, some new guy. He’s kind of annoying.”

“They all are,” Mario said. “Who’s taking care of it?”

“Bowser.” Luigi noted the thick black smoke coming from the ship. “I think he’ll be done soon.”

“That’s good. So you’re, uh…” Mario cleared his throat. “You’re still planning on staying out tonight?”

“Yes?” It was weird for Mario to bring that up. Unless… Luigi grinned. “You need me out of the apartment?”

“I- I don’t know. Just checking. I should go, I gotta get to the next job.”

“Sure sure,” Luigi said, teasing. “Make sure to pace yourself. You’re out of practice.”

“Shut up,” Mario grumbled. “See you tomorrow.”

“Ciao.”

Below them, the airship had come to an unsteady landing on the street, still belching black smoke. Luigi saw Bowser punch out a window and climb inside, and soon enough he emerged from the other end with a small man in a red cape dangling from his grip like a kitten.

The whole cafe broke out in cheers, Luigi among them. It would have been nice to join the fight, but this was nice too, getting to see what it felt like from the outside. Or at least, mostly from the outside.

All these people cheering for their hero might have liked Bowser, but only Luigi really knew him. Only Luigi was going to get to spend the rest of the day with him, hear his thoughts and gripes, have dinner with him and his family. Only Luigi knew every side of him, good and bad, and had watched him up close and personally grow into the hero he was now. They all liked him, but only Luigi got to love him.

Bowser was much too far away to hear them, or to see more than a blob of people, but Luigi could have sworn he looked straight at Luigi as he waved.

And he didn’t stop until Luigi waved back.