Archive of Our Own

Hunter and the other’s had been living with Luz and her mother for about a week now, and that week had quite possibly been the calmest week of Hunter’s life, in a messed up sort of way.

Not emotionally. Definitely not emotionally. He was out of his realm, figuratively and literally.

The realm he belonged in was falling apart at the hands of a minor god, last he saw it. His uncle, the only real family he had, had tried to kill him and everyone else on the Boiling Isles in a magically orchestrated genocide. His friends and himself were all stranded in a completely different reality, with no idea how to get back home, or if home even existed to get back to. So, no. Hunter was anything but calm mentally.

But physically? This was the calmest his life had ever been.

There were no missions for him to go on, no assignments. No Kikimora trying to terrorize him at every step. No covenhead meetings, no training, no duties, nothing.

Hunter had calmly awaited Ms. Noceda’s instruction. It made sense that she hadn’t made any demands the first few days, it was clear that they were all in shock and needed time to process before any of them could be trusted to successfully carry out any task, no matter how simple. But this was day five, and though none of them were doing particularly well, they were coming back around. They had been able to attempt to explain what had happened to her, and already started brainstorming on ways to attempt to recreate a portal door. The thousand-yard stares and silence that had cloaked them those first awful nights had fallen away into something less shell-shocked. And yet, Ms. Noceda had not told any of them what they were supposed to be doing.

Because they had to have been expected to be doing something. Hunter was not naive. Ms. Noceda’s assurance that they were all welcome in her home was a kind gesture, but kindness was not given without being earned.

Hunter and the others were liabilities. They were not only a burden on her resources, but also her time and energy. They were taking up space in her home, eating food from her kitchen, and probably burning a hole in her pocket. And that was just the physical things she had supplied them with.

All the children in her house were ticking time bombs when it came to their mental states, and every single one of them had blown up at least once in her presence. Whether it was fearing for their loved one’s safety, nightmares, or Hunter’s panic attack he had had that first night (he cringed in embarrassment and shame every time the event crossed his mind), Ms. Noceda had always done her best to help and be understanding. That alone was a weight no adult in Hunter’s life had even dared to burden themselves with.

And here Ms. Noceda was, shouldering that and more with a smile on her face, telling them simply to rest and take care of themselves, and to come to her should they ever need help with anything.

It was torture.

In the Emperor’s Coven, nobody was ever cryptic with their expectations. If somebody wanted you to do something, you were told outright. Capture palismen. Arrest wild witches. Kill a selkiedemus. Get it done, do it perfectly, don’t disappoint me, Hunter.

Even then, even with instruction given so directly, Hunter had sometimes found it hard to read those expectations correctly. More than once, Hunter had misunderstood or misinterpreted what Belos wanted of him, and received harsh punishment in return. Instructions were hard for him to understand, and any lack of detail meant a greater chance of making a mistake along the way. Hunter always had questions and needed clarification, but he was in no place to ask for either. The few times he had expressed his confusion over instructions, Belos had sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose and wincing, complaining of how Hunter’s stupidity was physically painful. He could only ask so many more questions before Belos would get upset with him and lash out.

Hunter had learned to stay quiet. If he was confused and made a mistake because of it, he deserved whatever punishment he got. It was his own fault for being so dense.

But Ms. Noceda wasn’t giving him anything. No demands, no instructions, not even hints or implications of how she expected them to repay her for her hospitality. Every time Hunter mustered enough courage to approach her and ask if she wanted him to do anything, she dismissively waved him off with an easy smile, telling him to focus on resting and healing or to go spend time with the others.

Hunter was too dumb to figure out what specifically she expected them to do. So, to cover all his bases, Hunter simply started doing everything.

Hunter had observed her cleaning the dishes after dinner, and afterward immediately took it upon himself to wash the dishes every time there was so much as one plate in the sink. He had found a broom and mop in the hall closet while attempting to find an extra blanket for Gus, and decided it would probably be smart to sweep and mop at least twice a day, to ensure everything was as clean as possible. He had quite literally begged Luz to show him how to operate the giant machines in the basement that could wash and dry clothing, and although he was mildly terrified by them (they were so loud and complicated), promptly undertook the task of completing the entire house’s laundry whenever it was needed.

He added more to the list every time he found another task that needed completing. Amity had pulled a box from the downstairs closet looking for something Luz had lost and coughed at the dust, and Hunter started dusting everything. Luz had playfully complained that they were all chronically guilty of placing food back in the pantry in the wrong spots, and Hunter not only reorganized the pantry, but also the fridge, closets, and bookcases, alphabetizing by author’s last name. In the coming days, Hunter found himself doing the dishes, laundry, mopping, sweeping, dusting, organizing, trash bins, and bathroom cleaning, as well as any other little tasks he could pick up along the way.

It was perfect. If he was doing everything, he couldn’t possibly be failing to do whatever it was she was expecting him to do. Anything she hadn’t expected him to do that he had done anyway were just extra expressions of reverence. Ms. Noceda would be happy, and the price of her kindness would be paid.

It was genius, as far as Hunter was concerned.

Sure, the workload was heavy, but it was still less than he had ever had to do in the Emperor’s Coven. A couple times, when he had been extra exhausted or his still-healing sigil made a task too difficult to complete, Hunter had debated asking one of the others for help. Since they were all benefiting from Ms. Noceda’s hospitality, she was probably expecting them all to contribute to repaying her. But Hunter couldn’t stomach burdening them with this. They didn’t need to know he was doing this at all. They were all suffering much more than him.

They all had families and loved ones back in the Boiling Isles. They had homes, lives, people who missed them and people to be missed. Hunter had heard each of them break down and weep about how worried they were for them, how scared they were that they would never get them back. Hunter didn’t have to suffer like that. The only family he had was the reason they were in this mess. And also, last he saw, a pile of liquified rot splattered against the wall.

Hunter could handle this by himself. The others deserved time to heal and process things. Hunter was used to working like this. Hell, Hunter was quite literally built for this. He could manage.

And it was working!

Every day, Ms. Noceda would get home from work and comment on how clean the place was. Once, she had gotten off of work earlier than normal, and returned while Hunter was just finishing up the dishes. He had tensed at first when she came into the kitchen, the voice in the back of his mind always reminding him to be wary of authority, but all she had done was smile softly and thank him.

“Gracias, chiquito,” she had praised, “You’re a good kid.”

A good kid. While Hunter would normally correct anyone who called him a kid that he was, in fact, 16, and therefore basically an adult, Hunter was too ecstatic at the implications of her statement. A good kid. He was doing good. He had understood what she wanted correctly!

And so Hunter continued with his tasks. Every morning, Ms. Noceda would leave for work, and Hunter would begin completing his list of assignments. In the evening, he would finish just in time for Ms. Noceda to get back and be pleased with his work. Wake up, complete assignments, sleep, repeat. It was a familiar routine to fall into.

But Hunter’s friends were starting to act strange around him.

Luz had dragged out some kind of human crystal ball variant she called a Wii. Apparently, you could use it to play virtual games. They had taken to playing something called a Mario Kart on it, which was a kind of race, but apparently an infuriatingly difficult one. Every time they played, Luz, Gus, and Vee would yell at and sabotage each other, neck and neck, while Willow was always one lap ahead, and Amity somehow always managing to get stuck going backwards.

They had tried more than once to convince Hunter to play with them, but Hunter always declined. He didn’t have time. He never outright said it was because he was too busy cleaning- the last thing he wanted was to make them feel like they had to help, especially when playing on the Wii machine was the first he had heard them laugh and be so happy since the portal had closed- so he always came up with some different excuse. They seemed to buy it, or at least they didn’t push him too hard about it, but he never missed the worried glances they’d exchange between themselves every time he refused. He tried not to think about it and got back to work.

Then there was the time they had attempted to make dinner for Ms. Noceda. Hunter had actually joined them then, having finished his chores a little earlier than normal and arguing with himself that this would also serve to make Ms. Noceda happy.

Unfortunately, it was a disaster. Leave it to them to find a way to manage to burn a salad. Thankfully, it hadn’t taken that many ingredients to make, and it had mostly been things that were going to reach expiration soon anyway, so Hunter wasn’t too scared about Ms. Noceda being upset with them for wasting food. What Hunter was anxious about, however, was the huge mess the fiasco had left in the kitchen.

The others had left to the bathroom to clean the mess off of themselves, specifically to help Willow get ranch dressing out of her hair (Hunter didn’t even have the energy to question how that had happened. He doubted there was an answer that wouldn’t make his head hurt), so Hunter got busy cleaning up the wreckage in the kitchen.

With practiced ease, Hunter cleaned the dishes, wiped the counters, and mopped the floor. He scraped bites of burnt lettuce off of the rim of the stove and wiped ranch dressing off of surfaces it should have been impossible for it to reach. All in all, by the time the others had returned to the kitchen, Hunter was putting away the last of the freshly dried utensils.

“Hunter, you would not believe how much ranch was-”

Gus paused mid sentence and stood at the entrance to the kitchen, looking around the room in confusion. The others soon joined him with mirrored expressions of shock.

Hunter put the last fork away, turning around to raise an eyebrow at their silence questioningly, “Uh, guys? You ok? What’s wrong?”

“Dude,” Luz deadpanned, “did you clean up that whole mess?”

“Uh… yeah. Why?”

“Hunter,” Amity’s eyes met his, “There was ranch on the ceiling.”

Hunter shifted uncomfortably at their strained tones, “Yeah, I just used the stepladder. I’m tall. Don’t worry, I think I got it all. Is… is everything ok?”

“You didn’t need to get that all by yourself,” Willow said, a tentative undertone to her words that always showed up when she was worried about the wellbeing of somebody she cared about, “We were going to come back and help you. We wouldn’t make you do that alone. You know that, right?”

Hunter had no clue what their point was. “Well, yeah, of course, but you didn’t need to, I had it handled. I could do it for you guys, so I did.”

His response elicited another group-wide exchange of worried glances, his friends having some sort of silent conversation between each other. Hunter was lost.

“Did… did I do something wrong?”

“No!” his friends all scrambled to reassure him at once.

“Then what are you exchanging glances about?” Hunter tried to sound more annoyed than anxious. He wasn’t sure it worked.

Willow was the first to speak up, wringing her hands together pensively, “It was kind of you to clean up the mess. We just hope you don’t feel like you… have to do things like this, you know? It’s ok to ask for help with things, and to need help with them in the first place.”

“You’ve also been kind of distant lately,” Gus added, looking a little dejected, “When we ask you to hang out, you’re always slipping off to do something else, and you won’t tell us what you’re up to.”

“And that's ok if you need time alone!” Luz interjected, “If that's all it is- that you need time alone after everything- that’s completely ok. We’re all dealing with… a lot right now. And we’re all dealing with it differently. If spending more time alone is what's helping you, you're entitled to that. But we just… we don’t think that’s all this is.”

Hunter knit his brow, “It’s… I’m sorry, I’m confused. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I don’t know what you’re worried about. I’m fine!”

Vee cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the room. Her expression was somber, like she was uncomfortable speaking, but she spoke all the same.

“I know the Emperor’s Coven.” was all Vee said.

Hunter stiffened.

He and Vee had been talking, despite everything. She knew who he was, the title he held, but had told him she didn’t hate him for it. Despite Hunter’s high rank in the coven, he had had no idea about Belos’s experimentation with the basilisks. They had both been pawns in his sick game, made to be useful and eventually destroyed. However, they didn’t talk about it often. It was a hard topic, obviously, which meant that if Vee was bringing it up now, it was serious.

“There’s not really a whole lot of… well, there’s literally no trust. You’re expected to do things alone unless you’re specifically assigned to work with somebody else, and even then you’re not exactly friends with them. You grew up in the Coven, Hunter. Belos specifically made sure you were as disconnected from life outside of it as possible so you wouldn’t question how he treated you. I guess we’re just worried that you’re still holding yourself to some of those misconceptions.”

Even though Hunter didn’t want her to be right, deep down, he knew she was. Hunter was struggling to understand what experiences he had growing up were normal and what weren’t. An alarming amount of them were appearing to fall under the not normal category.

But Hunter was so sure that this was a normal one. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. Ms. Noceda absolutely had to be expecting some kind of repayment for her hospitality. She had opened her home to them, treated their injuries, fed them, clothed them, held them while they cried, made promises to help them get back home. Most of the adults in Hunter’s life couldn’t have been paid enough to even consider being half as kind as Luz’s mother had. To assume that this was all free would be unthinkably disrespectful.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” Hunter offered, struggling to meet their eyes. Emotions were hard, especially when they were all tangled up in other people’s emotions, “But I’m ok, I promise. You’re right, I am having to… relearn some things. A lot of things. And it’s hard. But that’s not this! I’m ok, and I’m dealing with this the right way, I know I am.”

“Can you at least tell us what it is you’re dealing with?” Gus asked, pleading, “Even if everything’s ok, we want to help if we can.”

Hunter almost caved at the sad expression on Gus’s face. The younger was always his Achilles heel, Hunter was protective of him. He was too young to be dealing with all of this (Hunter tried in vain to push away the sickening realization that he himself had dealt with similar things at an even younger age. He didn’t want to think about it).

But Hunter couldn’t tell them about how he’d been working. They were still healing. Titan, Gus still needed help walking on his ankle. Hunter wasn’t about to give them another thing to worry about. Hunter could handle this all on his own, handle paying their debt for Ms. Noceda’s kindness for the rest of their stay here if he needed to. Hunter was raised to work tirelessly. Hunter was made to serve somebody else.

“I… would rather not,” Hunter admitted, feeling Gus’s hurt expression as a physical pain in his chest, “This is something I have to deal with on my own.”

Hunter’s galderstone heart only hurt worse at the worried expressions on his friends faces, but he knew he was doing the right thing. He was doing this for them, after all.

“That’s ok,” Luz reassured him, though she carried the same strained tone Willow had earlier, “But if that changes, we're here for you, ok?”

Hunter nodded, and the topic was dropped.

For a while, Hunter thought that was going to be the end of it. They stopped questioning him every time he declined an offer to hang out, and didn’t try to figure out what he was up to. Things went on as normal, Hunter completing all the tasks around the house away from the others’ prying eyes, Ms. Noceda coming home happy and continuing to treat them so kindly. It was a mutual exchange. It was familiar. It was perfect.

Then Hunter fucked it all up.

Hunter was used to functioning despite pain. Between missions and Belos’s corrections, there was rarely a time where Hunter wasn’t injured in at least one form or another. Hunter had taught himself to compartmentalize; if he focused enough on the task at hand he could sort of move his pain to the backburner to deal with later. This was a priceless skill when working in the Emperor’s Coven. If Hunter had fallen apart every time he was injured, he never would have made it as far as he had.

But a big part of being able to tuck the pain away was found in being able to ignore the injury itself. If Hunter hid his cuts and bruises under clothing, out of sight, he could keep it out of mind much easier than if he kept being confronted with it.

But that wasn’t possible here, not with Ms. Noceda. Hunter had been endlessly grateful that first night when she had bandaged his sigil. He had been surprised that she would even take the time to treat and bandage an injury that, in his eyes, was so minor. But what surprised him even greater was when, the next morning, she had pulled him aside to treat it again.

Hunter had attempted to explain that she didn’t have to, but Ms. Noceda had just shushed him gently, saying she was more than willing to help, and that she wanted to make sure for herself that it was healing alright. With deft fingers, she reapplied the ointment and changed his bandages, all the while talking through everything she was doing, just like the first night. Hunter had just sat there, completely lost as to how he was supposed to handle this. It still felt wrong, for an authority figure to help him with something he was more than capable of doing on his own. But Ms. Noceda had insisted, and he didn’t want his explanations to be perceived as talking-back.

And it definitely wasn’t also because he maybe kind of liked how gentle she was with him. It had nothing to do with how softly she talked to him, or how her hand would squeeze his reassuringly, or how her bandages were better than he ever managed to do on his own. It had absolutely nothing to do with how she showed him the parental kindness he had craved from Belos for so long, and had only received scraps of up until now. No, it had nothing to do with any of that.

But it hadn’t even stopped there. Every morning, before Ms. Noceda left for work, she would call Hunter into the bathroom with the first aid kit and redress his sigil. Hunter had to admit, it seemed to be making a difference. In a week's time, the raised, burned, bleeding skin around his sigil had been reduced to already healing scabs. Hunter felt he would never be able to thank her enough.

But at the same time, constantly acknowledging that it was there made it near impossible to ignore.

Hunter had tried to push the pain away like he always did, but it wasn’t working. The sharp bolt of pain that shot up his forearm every time he twisted it the wrong way or lifted something a little too heavy broke though his every attempt to occupy his mind with something else. It wouldn’t have been that bad either, if not literally every single one of Hunter’s expectations around the house required some form of twisting or lifting.

Getting the laundry basket down the basement stairs was hell.

Hunter stared at the steps with a burning contempt, packed laundry basket sitting at his feet. Lifting the heavy basket was near impossible with his wrist. Hunter had taken to dragging it around the first floor to avoid having to pick the damn thing up as much as he could, but he couldn’t drag it down the stairs (He had tried. It had gone about as well as you would expect).

This was the one chore that had nearly brought him to ask for help more than once. Lifting the basket made his wrist feel like somebody was shoving needles up the tendons. He couldn’t do it fast either, the basket made it so he couldn’t see his feet and any attempt to rush himself ended in him almost tripping down the hazardous steps. No, the most painful task had to be taken slowly. Of course it did.

Hunter internally cringed, this was so pathetic. What irony it would be if the once esteemed Golden Guard met his fate crumpled at the bottom of a flight of stairs, covered in dirty laundry.

Hunter shook himself from his thoughts. He couldn’t keep stalling. The laundry had to get done. Ms. Noceda would be home soon, and Hunter wasn’t about to risk looking like he had slacked off.

Hunter took a deep breath, braced himself, and slowly lifted up the basket.

The pain was immediate. A sharp stabbing pain ran from his sigil straight up his arm, branching out as if it followed his veins. Regardless of the way his vision went spotted, Hunter began to slowly descend the stairs.

It was fine. This was fine. Hunter was so incredibly fine. It was just a few steps. Just one staircase. Just a little bit further. Just-

Hunter was not fine.

Hunter’s vision swam as he shifted the basket in his grasp, attempting to shoulder more of the weight onto his uninjured left hand, when something in his right wrist pulled.

The rest was kind of a blur.

The basket slipped from Hunter’s grasp. The ground slipped from beneath Hunter. In one blink, both were lying at the bottom of the stairs.

The first thing Hunter registered as he lifted his aching head from the ground was the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching.

“What was that?”

“Is everything-”

“Hunter!”

Hunter winced and shut his eyes against the yelling. Shit, shit, shit, shit-

He had to get up. He had to salvage what he could from this situation. They couldn’t see him like this.

Hunter scrambled to lift himself up on unsteady arms, but quickly lost his balance as the pain in his wrist returned tenfold at the pressure. He yelped, but a pair of hands caught him before he could hit the floor a second time.

“Hunter!” it was Luz, “Don’t try to get up! You literally just fell down the stairs, you need to stay still, you could seriously injure yourself!”

“M’fine!” Hunter blurted, words tripping to catch up with his racing thoughts, “I’m ok! I was- I- I was almost to the bottom, I didn’t- I didn’t fall that far.”

Luz’s voice was bewildered, “It doesn’t matter!”

Vee paced worriedly, “Should I go grab the first aid kit from the bathroom?”

“No- I- I’m fine! You don’t need-”

“Dude, you literally just fell down a flight of stairs-” Gus reiterated.

All the attention was on Hunter. His friends' overlapping voices only served to make his growing headache worse, and the shock from his fall was still creating an awful, static sensation in his limbs. Agitation and anxiety fought for dominance in his chest.

“Guys- guys, please, I’m ok,” Hunter pleaded, voice slowly becoming weaker. He drew his legs up to his chest, sitting fetal position on the floor. He didn’t want them here seeing him like this. This was too much. This was too overwhelming.

“You are chronically incapable of gauging the severity of your injuries,” Amity deadpanned, “Don’t move a muscle until we’ve determined that for ourselves-”

“-Hunter, please, we want to help-” Willow sounded so concerned.

“-What Hurts?” Luz asked, “Did you hit your head? Does anything feel out of place or broken?”

Everything was becoming too much. His galderstone heart was beating too fast in his chest. His friends’ worried voices slowly lost meaning, jumbled in the mess of thoughts inside his head, until he could only comprehend the fact that their tone sounded urgent, loud, upset.

“Hunter,” Luz was knelt in front of him, voice breaking through his inner turmoil, “I’m worried about you. Can you tell me if anything hurts? Or tell me what you were doing carrying… wait why were you even… were you doing laundry?”

Hunter wilted under her scrutinizing stare as she began to process the scene in front of her. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so bad.

“Hunter…” Willow’s voice was steeped in concern, “Can you explain to us what’s going on? Please?”

Hunter closed his eyes, begging the tears to stay at bay. He took a few strained breaths, steeling himself for however his friends were going to react, before speaking quietly.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he whispered it like he was admitting to sin, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Luz’s brow creased, “What do you mean? Like… right now?”

“Ever,” Hunter forced out around a choked sob, still trying to keep his tears from spilling, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Nobody will tell me!”

“Dude, hey, it's ok,” Gus kneeled next to him, “It’s ok. Whatever’s going on, we can work this th-”

“No! No- we can’t! Some- Something’s wrong with me,” Hunter couldn’t help it anymore, the floodgates opening, “Something is wrong with me. I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to be doing. I never could. I just want to be good. I want to be good! But I can’t! I’m too stupid to figure it out! I keep fucking up-”

“Hunter, please-”

“You’re not stupid, what are-”

The words were too much. Hunter’s hands flew to his ears, pressing against them to block out the noise, the need for silence momentarily overriding the pain his wrist felt from being jostled once again, “No! No, because I’m trying! I’ve been doing everything I can around the house. I’ve been- been washing, and cleaning, and the dishes and laundry and- and the floors, and everything- I’ve been doing everything because I don’t know what I need to do! So I’m doing it all! Because I don’t- I’m too stupid!”

“You’ve been- is this what you’ve been sneaking around about?” Luz sounded nothing short of bewildered, “I- Why? You don’t need to be doing that, you don’t need to be doing anyth-”

“I do!” Tears were leaking down Hunter’s cheeks, hands still clasped so tight over his ears he was sure his nails were leaving indents on the sides of his face. “I do, I-”

“Niños, qué está pasando?” a familiar voice called from the living room upstairs, the front door closing behind her as she made her way closer to the basement stairs, “Is everything ok?”

Ms. Noceda was home.

A harsh sob broke out of Hunter’s chest, and suddenly breathing was very painful. Hunter choked on the breath, trying to shove it down- Ms. Noceda couldn’t see him like this, couldn’t see him so pathetic and weak and literally sprawled out on the floor with the clothes he’d failed to clean. The breath tore out of him anyway and he started coughing, which agitated it more, and his friend’s began to panic.

“Mamá!” Luz shouted, voice wavering, “Hunter’s hurt, he fell down the stairs and he’s panicking and-”

“What?!” Ms. Noceda appeared at the top of the staircase, covering her mouth in shock at the scene before her.

Hunter closed his eyes as he continued to cough, tears still leaking down his face. He pulled his knees tighter to his chest and began to rock. Everything was too much. His head hurt, his wrist hurt, his chest hurt- everything hurt. His friends were witnessing him break down like a pathetic child, and now Ms. Noceda was here, just in time to see just how much of a fuck-up he really was.

He was so screwed.

Hunter was too focused on trying to get a breath in to hear Ms. Noceda descend the stairs, asking the other kids to give her some space.

He had fucked up. He had fucked up so badly. He’d failed to do the chores, he’d failed to keep his own problems from his friends, he’d made a mess, and now he was making a scene.

He didn’t want to be hurt, even if he knew he deserved it. Even if Ms. Noceda’s rage would be completely warranted. He knew Belos would have reacted the same, he would have been infuriated. Titan, Belos would have left him bleeding for the spilled laundry alone. He had beat him over less. It would have been expected. It would have been deserved. What he didn’t know was how Ms. Noceda was going to react.

His racing thoughts came to a complete stop when a hand landed on Hunter’s shoulder and he flinched hard, choking on his own breaths again- this was it, this was it, this was it- but instead of a punch, or a slap, or even nails digging into his skin- the touch disappeared.

“Sorry, chiquito,” Ms. Noceda’s voice was soft. She was kneeling next to him, close but not crowding. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I won’t touch you again. Deep breaths for me, baby, ok? You’re ok. You’re just panicking, take deep breaths.”

Hunter didn’t know why she was apologizing. Hunter didn’t know why she was speaking to him so gently. Hunter didn’t know why she wasn’t currently beating him black and blue for his insolence. But he did know that she had asked him to do something, and that made it an order. And Hunter knew how to follow orders.

Hunter fought to take in deeper breaths, ignoring the way his chest ached with every inhale. His skin was crawling and every noise felt like it was drilling holes in his skull. His friends had all moved higher up the steps at Ms. Noceda’s request to give him space, but still hovered worriedly. Gus was quietly counting out the breathing technique they’d used, wanting to help but not wanting to speak so loudly as to make Hunter overwhelmed again. Hunter followed along, and eventually his hyperventilating dissolved into softer sobs. His hands still refused to leave his ears, legs still drawn up close to his chest. Defensive. Protective.

It was then that Hunter realized he was still rocking forwards and backwards. Fear and embarrassment crept up his spine as he forced himself to stop, redirecting the energy into his hands, tightly gripping at his ears and biting his lip in an attempt to remain still. He had made enough of a fool of himself. He needed to stop proving how broken he was. He needed to apologize.

Hunter opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was another choked sob.

“Hey, baby, it’s ok,” Ms. Noceda was still speaking to him gently, “It’s ok. You’re ok. You don’t have to speak if you can’t. Just focus on breathing.”

Hunter shook his head vehemently. No. Normal people didn’t act like this. Normal people didn’t lose their ability to speak. Normal people spoke when expected to. Something was wrong with Hunter, but he had to prove he was trying.

“I- I’m sorry, ma’am,” he stuttered out, voice weak and shaking. It was hard. His mouth wouldn’t cooperate with his mind, not the way he needed it to. But he had to apologize. He had to do whatever he could to beg for her forgiveness. Had to prove that he was not only thankful for her kindness, but was useful enough to earn it, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t- I- I’m sorry.”

“Hunter, niño, it’s ok,” she repeated, voice dripping with concern, “You don’t need to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“No!” Hunter suddenly shouted, slapping a hand over his mouth in terror over his own actions, yelling at an authority figure what was wrong with him- but she didn’t understand. Hunter had done something wrong. Hunter had messed up. He had dropped her clothes. He had failed to finish the laundry like she wanted. Failed to repay her. Did she think it was the others’ fault the job had been left unfinished? She couldn’t punish them, he had to fix this, he had to explain- “I dropped the clothes. It was me. I dropped them everywhere and I d- I didn’t- I didn’t finish the laundry. I failed. I’m sorry.”

Ms. Noceda’s eyebrows furrowed, it looked like confusion. She glanced between him, the mess of clothes on the ground, and his friends up on the stairs, “The laundry?.. Baby, you shouldn’t have been doing that. Your wrist is still healing. Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“Uh…” Luz cleared her throat from her place up on the stairs, grabbing her mother’s attention, “I, uh. I don’t fully understand the whole situation, but I think Hunter’s been doing… all the chores.”

Ms. Noceda blinked. She didn’t say anything.

“He’s been sneaking around us for days and not told us what’s going on,” Gus added, voice wavering with worry.

“He just said he’s been doing everything without telling us,” Willow sounded so upset, “We didn’t know he’d been doing any of this. He didn’t say anything.”

Ms. Noceda turned back to Hunter, silent. His galderstone heart was fighting to beat out of his chest.

“Nene…” when she finally spoke, her voice sounded devastated, “were you doing all the chores by yourself?”

Hunter couldn’t hold it together any longer. It didn’t matter that he was scared. It didn’t matter that his skin was crawling and all the noises hurt and it was hard to speak and he wanted to rock so badly but he couldn’t- this was all his fault. Ms. Noceda knew he was the only one doing the work. Ms. Noceda knew, and she would be angry, and Hunter had to handle this- had to face whatever punishment he deserved- now.

Hunter pried his hands off his ears and placed them on the ground, the sting of his sigil long lost to the noise in his mind. Moving slowly, mechanically, Hunter shifted into the familiar motions of lifting his weight onto his knees and kneeled, bowing his head so low his forehead almost touched the ground, bowing to the authority figure before him.

“I am sorry, Ms. Noceda,” his voice came out hollow, dead, steady, resigned, “This is all my fault. I was doing all the chores. I didn’t- I know kindness is not free. I know you were expecting the chores to be done. I know it’s our payment for your kindness. I know it is, but- the others are healing. I’m used to heavy work. I’ve worked like this all my life. I’m m-made…I’m used to this. I just thought I could do this by myself, and then they could rest and heal but we would still be earning your kindness. But I failed to finish my missions- my chores today. And I made a mess. And a scene. And for that I cannot apologize enough. Please, none of this is their fault. I will finish the laundry, I’ll clean up the mess, and I’ll take any punishment you deem fit for my insolence today, just don’t punish the others, please.”

Ms. Noceda didn’t respond. His friends were quiet, too. Hunter couldn’t find it in him to risk looking up.

Hunter heard a sniff. Ms. Noceda shifted her weight, and Hunter immediately stiffened, squeezing his eyes shut, not really sure what to expect but expecting it to hurt- but nothing ever came.

“Hunter,” Ms. Noceda’s voice quavered, sounding broken and lost, “You don’t have to do the chores. I never expected any of you to do the chores. They are not payment for my kindness.”

Hunter’s galderstone heart sunk in his chest. So he’d been wrong. He hadn’t figured out what she had wanted them to do to repay her. He had misunderstood again. He had been failing from the beginning.

“I’m sorry…” Hunter could feel tears gathering in his eyes again, but his chest remained numb, “I don’t know how to earn your kindness. I don’t know what you want me to do. I was trying to be good, I was trying, I promise, but I don’t understand what you want. Please, I’m sorry I’m so stupid, just please… tell me how to repay you for your kindness.”

“Hunter, mi querido,” Ms. Noceda’s voice shook, and Hunter startled for a moment when he realized that she was crying, “You don’t have to do anything.”

Hunter blanked. The chaos in his mind stopped all at once, and the silence was almost deafening. Shock outweighed his previous fear as he lifted his head from his bow to look at the woman before him.

She was crying. Not heaving sobs, not like Hunter had just moments earlier, but crying all the same. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she kneeled in front of him, eyes looking at him with a sorrow that made Hunter’s chest ache. She looked devastated.

“You’re not in trouble. Nobody is in trouble,” she continued, bringing her hand up to wipe away her tears and trying to keep her voice steady, “Baby, remember what I said the first night you were here? My kindness isn’t conditional. You don’t have to earn it, ok?”

“But-” Hunter stopped himself, mind berating him for daring to question her, but her eyes remained gentle, urging him to continue, “We- we’re using up your resources. We’re a burden to you. If we aren’t doing something to repay you… why are you still being so kind?”

Ms. Noceda took a shaky inhale, “Chiquito, I don’t know who taught you that kindness is something that has to be earned with some impossibly high price, but I do not share that sentiment. You are all children in my home, wonderful friends of my daughter, who have been through something terrible and currently do not have a place to stay. I'm not going to hurt you, baby, I would never raise my hand to any of you. I want to help you. I do not expect anything in return. You don’t have to repay me. I am just happy to help.”

The tears in Hunter’s eyes began to spill over silently. He searched her eyes, looking for something, anything that said she was joking. Waiting for the deception, the mockery, waiting for the second shoe to drop- but there was nothing but genuine care in her expression. “You don’t… nothing? We don’t have to do anything?”

“Baby, all I want is for you guys to heal and take care of yourselves. I appreciate the help around the house, but I’m not going to stop being kind if you don’t do it. I would prefer you don’t, actually, at least until you’re fully healed.”

She wanted them to heal. She wouldn’t stop being kind if they couldn’t be useful. They didn’t have to work to avoid being punished. He almost couldn't believe it, that compassion like that could be given so freely. It went against everything he had ever learned, but Hunter was having to relearn a lot of things lately. Maybe kindness was one of them.

Hunter sniffled, swallowing down a sob. He couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice when he softly begged, "Really?"

Camila's voice was just as thick with emotion, "I promise you, chiquito."

Hunter’s expression crumbled as he began to cry again. But this time, it wasn’t fear. It was relief.

“Oh, baby, it's alright,” Ms. Noceda sniffled, “You’re ok- is it ok if your friends come closer? Or do you want room?”

“Please-” Hunter sobbed, “Closer, please-”

Hunter’s friends were at his side in seconds, asking if he was ok with touch and hugging him as soon as he nodded. Hunter wrapped his arms around them and buried himself in their embraces, sobs wracking his frame as they held him close, rubbing his back comfortingly and threading their fingers through his hair. It was so much, so much- but it was grounding, it was gentle, it was kind.

It took a while for Hunter to finally calm down fully, tears drying up and breath finally coming even, but his friends never once lost patience with him. He had never been treated so kindly coming down from panic like this. He had never felt so cared for. He didn’t know he could.

Eventually, though, their positions curled up on the dusty floor of the basement became uncomfortable. Luz decided they should move to the couch, declaring it a family movie night.

“Nothing fixes a bad day like a pillow fort, popcorn, and a movie,” she had explained, humor clear in her voice but still sounding genuine, “You pick the movie, Hunter. Whoever has the breakdown gets to pick. It's the rules.”

They had all laughed at that, slowly helping each other up to move to the living room. It wasn’t until Willow reached down to help pull him up that they noticed it- the bandages around his sigil were now stained with a bit of blood. Not enough to be alarming, and it seemed to have stopped already, but it was evident that Hunter’s fall had reopened the wound a bit.

Ms. Noceda came over, inspecting the bandaging, “It’s ok, you must have agitated it when you tripped. Here, you guys all go upstairs and start setting up a pillow fort and snacks. I’ll clean up this laundry later, it can wait. Hunter, I’ll help you rebandage your arm here in the basement bathroom, I think I left the first aid kit in there. Is that ok?”

Hunter nodded. His friends all hugged him one more time before racing up the steps, already talking about different ways to construct the pillow fort and all the different kinds of snacks they should make for the night. Ms. Noceda offered her hand to Hunter gently and led him to the bathroom.

Treating the wound was routine. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad- some of the scabs had broken when he twisted trying to carry the basket, but that was it. As Ms. Noceda reapplied some more ointment, she cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Hunter,” she began, voice soft, “I don’t know what your life was like before you got here. And you do not have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you, ok? And so are your friends. They care about you so much, and so do I. We don’t want you suffering in silence.”

Hunter mulled the thought over in his head, for a moment not saying anything. Ms. Noceda didn’t press him for a response. He didn’t speak until she began to rebandage his arm.

“Thank you,” he began quietly, “For everything. I… I don’t want to talk about it, not right now. But my life was different, before here. This place is different. And I’m figuring out how things work. It’s… really confusing. And I’ve never been the best at understanding what people want from me. I’m sorry that I’m misunderstanding things.”

“Don't ever apologize for that, it’s ok. You don’t have to apologize for misunderstanding. This is all different for you, and that's ok,” she reassured him, finishing off his bandaging and squeezing his hand comfortingly, “And earlier, when you called yourself ‘stupid’ for being confused, you’re not stupid. It’s ok to be confused with social expectations and everything. Luz struggles with the same thing, I struggle sometimes, too. You’re not stupid for having trouble understanding people. Especially in your situation, you’re in a whole different world than normal, baby, I would be more concerned if you weren’t at least a little confused. Just ask for help if you need it, ok? Nobody will think less of you, not here.”

If Hunter hadn’t literally already cried all the tears he could that night, he would have cried again. “Thank you, Ms. Noceda. You have no clue what that means to me.”

“Just call me Camila,” she reminded him with a gentle smile, squeezing his hand again before standing up, “Now come on, we gotta check on your friends upstairs. Knowing my daughter, she’s torn up the entire house by now for material for the pillow fort. I’d like to stop her before she drags my mattress off of my bed.”

Hunter laughed softly, joining her as they walked upstairs to the living room for movie night. Camila had only been half-joking- Luz really had used an absurd amount of pillows and blankets to construct a structure directly in front of the tv, complete with fairy lights and plenty of stuffed animals. She peeked her head out of the entrance and beckoned Hunter inside, “Come on! We have a spot for you in the middle. I have to watch you try popcorn for the first time!”

Hunter had tensed momentarily. The fort had made quite a mess of the living room, and pieces of popcorn already littered the floor. Hunter glanced back at Camila to see if she was upset, but felt the tension leave as fast as it had come at the amused smile on the woman’s face. She didn’t just look unbothered, she looked… happy. She was happy to see her living room turned upside down for the sake of their fun and comfort.

That was all Hunter needed to join them.

Hunter spent the rest of the night smiling, squished between Gus and Willow in the pillow fort, piled with blankets and stuffed animals. Popcorn was, decidedly, one of the best human creations out there, and they had all taken turns tossing pieces into each others’ mouths with varying accuracy. By the time they had all settled down, Hunter couldn’t even stay awake enough to care what movie was on. He was exhausted from his panic earlier, but more importantly, he felt… safe. He felt safe and protected, surrounded by his friends who cared about him.

That night, he slept without nightmares for the first time in a long while.