17: R2D2
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Max gets up early and bakes muffins for Helen.
In the past few years, he’s dedicated much more time to relationships. Oh, he still goes out as Max Mercury; he could never give that up. But it’s seeming more and more essential, as he ages, to spend time with the people he loves. To give something of himself to them while he’s still with them in the body.
It was devastating for Bart and Helen, losing him for that hectic two years. Max came back to a bereaved, lonely, confused son and daughter. He won’t let that happen again. Not that he won’t leave them eventually—the call of the speed force is stronger and stronger every year—but he won’t go and leave them without support, without an understanding of himself. And he’s been doing… better. He’s mellowed, in his old age. He’s better at these little acts of love, like the muffins and the texting or meeting Bart outside every morning and asking about his day. He’s better at being open.
And now there’s Thad.
And oh, Max loves him fiercely. It’s not like this with the rest of the family. Max can communicate comfortably with them. With Thad… with Thad, Max doesn't know what to do.
It scares Max how deeply he loves Thad. He’s well aware that he doesn't have much time left, in the grand scheme of things, and the boy’s wounds run deep… but Max will not make the selfish choice to withdraw.
He slides the muffin tins into the oven. When he closes the oven door, the door and his back both creak. He sits cross-legged on the floor to relieve his back and fishes in his apron pocket for his flip phone. Only three people have this phone number: Helen, Morlo, and Bart.
How are you?
The reply comes instantly, as always.
:D how abt u ?
I am doing fine. I just made muffins.
There’s a knock on the front door. Max laughs.
They’re not baked yet, he types, to aggravate Bart. Then he comes to the door and steps out.
Bart tells him what he did yesterday, various rescues, mostly, and a visit to his old friend Preston. Max tells him about Thad and Joseph Wilson. Then, sensing danger, he warns Bart not to go talk to Joseph. Bart pouts at him, but agrees. He really wants the best for Thad, Max thinks. He’s been so patient about all this.
Bart takes a muffin when they come out of the oven, eats it, burning his tongue, and runs off with a “Seeya later!”
Helen comes out of her room a bit later. She’s wearing her bunny slippers.
“Ooh, muffins,” she says, and sits and digs in with Max.
The dentist’s office is closed on Sundays, so Helen gets to be home all day. It’s the first Sunday they’ll get to really relax together since Thad appeared.
It’s been a long few weeks.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Helen responds. “Thad’s not really much work at all, but it’s really hard to talk to him.”
Max groans in agreement.
“So… how did it go with Jericho?” she asks tentatively.
Max laughs out loud around the piece of muffin in his mouth, chews and swallows in a burst of speed.
“Actually, it went fabulously! Thad and Joseph really seemed to click. They talked and talked. And, you know, in that entire time, Thad never snapped at Joseph.”
Helen’s eyebrows shoot up.
“You mean to tell me Thad talked and talked? Our Thad?”
“Yes!” Max laughs. “Joseph drew things out of him I hadn’t guessed Thad even has opinions on. His major… he doesn't want to do anything in the scientific disciplines, apparently, but he’s undecided as to a specific major… He likes the way the oak trees move in the wind… his favorite animals are penguins and his favorite time of day is night… he likes the dark, it makes him comfortable… on the way down the mountain, we stopped at a stream and he told Joey about his powers…”
Max pauses, remembering. Joey and Thad had stopped at the sight of the stream, and stood for a moment in silent appreciation. The stream was well worth appreciation, wide and fast and steep, full of rocks that caused the water to foam, framed by pale flowers and oak trees. Then Joseph had started scanning the bank for skipping stones. Thad had picked his way out over stepping stones into the middle of the stream and crouched there. He’d put his hand in the water, turned it, playing with the current. He’d started to pull on the speed force then, for the second time on that hike, slowing himself down.
“What did he say about his powers?” Helen asks.
“Ah.” Max collects himself. “Yes. He was playing in the stream… using the speed force to slow himself down… and when he stopped to come skip stones with Joseph, he explained that he was speeding the world up so the current would be stronger.”
“Speeding the world up…” Helen murmurs.
Max nods.
Helen licks the last of the muffin crumbs off her plate and then just sits there for a minute. She has her thinking face on.
“Do you think… Thad feels like he has to control the world?” she asks. “I mean… is it about his powers, really, or does he think of himself as…”
“Responsible?” Max guesses. “Powerful? Maybe. He was trained that his value was in what he could do… so maybe it is just a way of thinking about the same powers… the speed force could, I think, give any of us the same abilities. But each of us uses the speed force based on our own instincts. He might actually be slowing the world down… relative to himself.”
Helen takes the dishes from the table. Max starts sweeping the crumbs off the tabletop.
“He looked happy,” Max says. “I’ve never seen him so… unselfconsciously happy. He was skipping, Helen.”
Helen stops rinsing, turns around, and stares at him.
“You’re joking!”
“No.”
“What is Joseph like, to have that kind of effect on Thad?”
“Honest,” Max says. “Thoughtful. Kind. He enjoys nature and people. I don’t like making assumptions about people from just two hours of interaction, but if he’s what he seems… I think he’ll be perfect for Thad.”
“Still, it’ll be sad to have Thad move out.”
“I don’t like the idea of handing him off to anyone else,” Max admits. “Not even perfect Joseph.”
Helen sticks the dishes in the dishwasher, comes over, and hugs him. He holds her tight, breathes in her perfume.
“I’m worried about him too,” she says into Max’s shoulder. “I feel responsible for him.”
“Me too.”
Helen says quietly: “I feel so bad that I didn’t recognize him as his own person last time… I think he wanted us to recognize him, really, but I never did. I… was too busy being proud of myself… thinking how much better Bart was, because of me…”
“Me too,” Max says again. “But, Helen, don’t be too hard on yourself. You thought I was dying. You needed something to be happy about.”
“You did too,” Helen says. “You needed something to be proud of…”
“I’m proud of you,” Max says. “I was proud of you. I was just blind… we both were.”
Max thinks suddenly of the clone that no one else knows about, the one who stalked Max for a while before dying of lung failure. His CRAYDL brought him to Max, but it was too late; Max couldn’t save him. Even Morlo couldn’t save him. His lungs simply stopped processing the air. After he died, the CRAYDL self-destructed, leaving a surprisingly small puddle of green goo next to the body.
Max gave the boy a hand to hold and a decent burial. He never found him in the speed force, but then again, he never looked.
“I really do want him to be with someone he can be open with,” he murmurs, letting her go. “I just… wish that was me.”
He laughs wetly at his jealousy, sniffs. He’s crying a little. He’s been doing that more, too, as he ages.
“Just wait until he actually leaves,” Helen says, sniffing. “Then we’ll both be bawling. I guarantee it.”
“We’ll visit him,” Max promises.
Max and Helen sit together in the living room, reading their separate books. By no coincidence, they’re both sitting where they can see the hallway, the door to Thad’s room.
Thaddeus gets up all bleary, dragging a blanket out of his room into the bathroom with his hair sticking up all over the place. He runs his shoulder into the doorframe as he goes in.
Max looks over at Helen and finds her stifling a laugh.
“Don’t let him see you laughing,” Max whispers.
Helen nods, still grinning, and returns to her book.
That afternoon, Max and Helen and Thad figure out Thad’s homeschool diploma for the ACT. Thad sits on the counter with his pale-blond hair sticking out of his blanket and tells them what classes they could say he covered. All the basic requirements of high school, of course, but also electronics, robotics, computer programming, and computer repair. For CRAYDL, he says. Rhetoric and drama. Max knew Thad must have had training in those!
Math through multivariable calculus and linear algebra and statistics. Nutrition, athletic and martial arts training of all sorts, obviously, biology and anatomy, specializing in the nervous system and experience of pain—Thaddeus says almost cheerfully that VR experience wasn’t enough; he had to have an academic understanding of the body to know how best to damage it. He pauses for a moment, eyes unfocused. Max tries not to let his horror show in case the boy thinks Max is blaming him—but experience in hurting people? Studying the experience of pain?
Thad abruptly continues. Chemistry, environmental studies, physics, forensics, all forms of engineering. Do you know that each of those are entire college majors? Max asks. I know, Thad answers. I just thought they might be taught in high schools too.
Max consults his list of high school classes and asks about the areas Thad didn’t mention. No psychology, Thad says regretfully; no English except high school level composition; no arts except the graphic design I picked up on the sly, no languages but Interlac and English because that was all Bart knew and they didn’t want me to slip, and only very… select history. I don't know how… accurate it was, either.
Everyone grimaces at that.
Well. The difficult thing with this repertoire won’t be convincing schools that Thad is a prodigy; the difficult thing will be deciding which classes to put on his record.
Thad doesn't see the humor in that; he nods and comes down from the counter to look at the list Max wrote out. He’s very small, sandwiched between Max and Helen. He points out the most essential classes. Max had planned to ask for more details, but by the time Thad gets through the list again he’s rubbing his eyes.
Max manfully resists the desire to hug him.
Helen asks Thad, “How about watching Star Wars?”
Thad looks up at her with that startled look he gets when people are nice to him.
“Can we—can we use the blanket fort again?”
“That’s what it’s for,” Helen says cheerfully.
Thaddeus smiles one of his strange lopsided smiles, half of his mouth pulling up and one eye wrinkling. Despite how alien it looks, Max thinks it’s natural to him; it’s Thad earnestly trying to express pleasure to Helen.
He wishes Thad would smile at him like that more often.
Helen goes to set up the movie. She invites Thaddeus to come with her, but he shakes his head, says he’ll come in a minute. He waits until Helen leaves, then turns his serious yellow eyes to Max.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“No, why?” Max asks, baffled.
“You’ve been acting weird today. You keep looking at me like I’m making you disappointed or something.”
“I…” Max says slowly, trying to come up with an explanation for his melancholy that Thad will believe. “I suppose I’m just feeling my age.”
Thad snorts.
“I’d say I’ve been feeling mine too, but I think that’s just depression.”
The wry way he says it breaks Max’s restraint. He laughs, leans over and kisses Thad on the forehead.
Thad stares at him, wide-eyed.
“Come on. Let’s go watch Star Wars.”
Thad follows him into the living room, looking at him like Max might reveal the secrets of the universe at any moment.
He grins at the title crawl: It is a period of civil war…
“This is the best animation you have in the 21st century?” he asks.
“Well, actually, this is from thirty years ago,” Helen tells him, then goes quiet because the movie is starting.
Thad settles in, laying on his belly, to watch. His face becomes rapt as he takes in the desperate situation of the beset spaceship. As the stormtroopers fire and fire and C-3PO and R2D2 escape through their ship at a crawling pace, Max keeps glancing down to make sure Thad’s all right. He’d hate to send him into a flashback. But Thad seems simply invested in the story, not bothered by the violence except to wince appreciatively when Darth Vader strangles the officer. He chuckles with Max and Helen at the banter between the droids and sighs in relief when they make it to the escape pod.
Max had forgotten how much of Star Wars IV followed the adventures of the droids. He starts to worry again when the droids are captured by Jawas and Thad grows tense. Are they too similar to CRAYDL? Thad seems… rather more attached to them than Max remembers himself being, the first time he watched this.
But the droids get purchased, and Thad transfers his attention to Luke Skywalker easily enough.
Max hasn’t cared this much about a motion picture in a long time… possibly ever, now he comes to think of it. Thaddeus is so enthralled by Star Wars that Max sees it with new eyes. Thad’s whole body vibrates when there’s a tense moment; he laughs out loud at the jokes; his eyes become soft and amazed at the vistas of the desert and outer space. He goes frighteningly still when he sees the burnt bodies of Luke’s aunt and uncle. Then he watches with an intensity Max hasn’t seen from him since he was shouting at the Thawnes in Morlo’s lab.
He doesn't say anything about it. He still chuckles at the funny parts. He booes Han Solo for being selfish. He cheers Leia on when she’s being feisty. But there’s a desperation in the way he’s watching now. His knuckles go white on the blanket whenever Luke or Obi-Wan is in danger.
Max is very, very glad that this movie has a happy ending.
The attack on the rebel planet Yavin IV. Thad groans in dismay when the Death Star appears. Max hisses, unreasonably tense. He knows there’s a happy ending; he’s seen it; but Thad’s heart is beating so fast it’s making him nervous.
Luke, climbing into his spaceship, says: “That little droid and I have been through a lot together. You okay, R2?” and Thad’s shoulders hunch defensively as R2 beeps a confirmation to Luke.
Now Max is sure he’s thinking of CRAYDL.
Midway through the rebel offensive on the Death Star, Max has had enough of sitting alone. He reaches over and takes Thad’s hand, matching its vibrations. He untangles it from the blanket and slots his fingers between Thad’s. Thad looks at him briefly, startled, then squeezes Max’s hand like a lifeline. Like a live electrical wire.
When the first shots fail to destroy the Death Star, Thad bursts out: “No! Really?”
Helen says, “Really.”
Thad scrambles himself hastily into a sitting position and reaches blindly for Helen. She takes his hand, and he stops vibrating so that she can touch him. And then they’re a chain of people anxiously watching Luke barrel down the shaft, Darth Vader in pursuit.
“Come on,” Thad whispers. “Come on…”
Han Solo returns, and Thad laughs in delight; the Death Star blows up in a shower of sparks, and he laughs again, triumphant. Max lets out his breath and realizes that he's been holding it.
During the medals scene, Helen asks what Thad thought of the movie.
“I—” Thad shakes his head. “Never saw anything like that before.”
“There are two more,” Helen says. “Well… five, but… it’s complicated.”
“I don’t know how they could live up to that.”
“They’re even better,” Helen assures him.
Thad lets go of their hands and rolls onto his back, staring at the top of the blanket fort with his hands resting on his stomach.
Max says, “Who’s your favorite, out of the trio?”
“Leia,” Thad says immediately.
Max chuckles. “Well, I knew it wasn’t Han!”
Thad smirks.
“Luke’s fine. Just… a little… I don’t know. He wasn’t as interesting as Leia.”
“Leia’s more feisty,” Helen says.
“Yeah.”
“Chewy’s my favorite,” Helen says.
Thad grins. Max laughs at her. She sticks her tongue out at him.
When Max looks back to Thaddeus, he’s gone. Mentally. Off to whatever place his mind goes when he gets amnesia. He’s still staring at the blanket roof, and his mouth is still shaped in the remnants of a grin, but… something about his eyes. He’s not at home.
Helen reaches to touch him, and Max pushes her arm away at speed.
“Ow! What?!”
Quietly, Max tells her, “Last time you touched him like this, you were lucky.”
Helen’s grimacing at him, holding her arm, offended and in pain. It hurts to be touched at high speed.
“Listen,” he says, dead serious. “I know you don’t feel like it, but all speedsters are deadly, okay? Have you seen Thad flinch?”
“No?”
“Yes you have. When he ends up across the room with his fists up, that’s a flinch. We’re just lucky he has enough control or enough fear that his flinches haven’t involved lashing out. Yet.”
Helen’s eyes grow wide.
“I’m sorry for pushing your arm so fast,” Max adds. “I was… worried.”
“That’s okay.”
They’re silent for a while. The credits scroll by. The dvd returns to the starting screen. Helen returns them to the start of the credits and pauses it there.
Thaddeus blinks awake and frowns at the blanket roof.
“My neck’s stiff.”
“You were gone about ten minutes,” Max tells him. “But you didn’t miss any of the movie.”
He makes a disgusted noise. Helen pushes play, and they watch the credits for a minute.
Thad says, “R2D2’s a lot like CRAYDL.”
Max and Helen glance at each other.
“How so?”
“He's a little droid, you know… a helper AI. And he's optimistic and snarky.”
Thad pauses. He looks far away.
“CRAYDL was like that.”
Max moves to touch him, then stops. He doesn't want to frighten him like yesterday when he took Thad’s face in his hands and the boy’s heart started beating like a trapped rabbit’s.
Thad notices the abrupt motion and clicks his tongue knowingly at Max.
“I’m going to sleep,” he announces.
“Thad,” Max says, but in a bright yellow blur of lightning, Thad ducks out of the tent and walks away.
Helen sighs. After a bit, she heads out to the community center for a yoga class. Max wishes he could go, too, but Helen is more advanced than he is, and he’s trapped within sensing distance of Thad.
Forget letting Thad go because Thad needs it; Max is going stir-crazy already.
The neighborhood is empty, so he takes a “run” around the house. When he feels tired enough, rejuvenated enough with the thrill of the speed force, he comes inside.
VIGILANTES BY PERMISSION ONLY, says a piece of notepaper taped to Thad’s door; MAX, THIS MEANS YOU.
“Can I come in?” he calls.
Thad is laying on the floor under the desk. For a moment Max wonders if he’s asleep, but he’s breathing too shallowly.
“Sure.”
Max comes in and sits in front of the desk. Before he can speak, a voice comes from the lump under the blanket.
“How did CRAYDL die?���
Max's heart sinks. They never told Thad much about the time when he was in the speed force. Does he even know about the other clones?
Carefully, he says, “CRAYDL… lay low for about a year after you disappeared. Then he started reappearing. Stealing… machine parts… looking for something… looking for magic, I’m told. I wasn’t around then. He contacted magicians and so forth.”
Thad makes no answer.
“He was trying to find you, I think. He was attempting to build a device or find a spell.”
The fingers of Thad’s right hand twitch.
“A t-hoop,” he states.
Max hesitates.
“Teleportation,” Thad clarifies, in that same distant voice. “It’s mostly machine, partially magic.”
“Ah… Well… He didn’t succeed. Maybe there aren’t the right components in the 21st century. But he… saw an opportunity, I think, when…”
Max doesn't know how to say this.
“Thad… the Thawnes… they cloned you,” he says. “Inertia… has continued.”
Thad doesn't respond.
“An Inertia came to the past in one of these… t-hoops,” Max says. The boy deserves to know the details. “CRAYDL tried to steal it, and he ended up fighting another CRAYDL unit. While CRAYDL was distracted… Inertia found your lair… and destroyed everything.”
“Inertia killed CRAYDL,” Thad says.
“Yes.”
Max’s muscles tighten in preparation for fighting an angry Thad down, but Thad doesn't move. He just lays there, breathing evenly.
“What happened to him?” Thad asks.
Max is confused for a moment, then realizes Thad’s inquiring after Inertia.
“He… died… trying to kill Bart.”
“Bart killed him?”
“Yes.”
Silence. The blanket rises and falls.
What can he be thinking? Max wonders. Is he thinking about the feud, thinking Bart proved the Thawnes right by killing? Is he feeling betrayed that Max never told him there were other clones? Is he thinking mostly of CRAYDL and distracting himself with inconsequential questions about the circumstances of his death?
How can Max comfort him when Thad struggles even to believe that he’s loved?
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs to Thad’s back.
He feels the inadequacy of it even as Thad’s shallow breathing stutters and he drags in a pull of air and says “Not your fault.”
“I wish I could help.”
No response. Thad is just a limp body under the blanket, eyes half open, one arm outstretched, palm up, and one loosely curled next to his chest. He hasn’t cried since the speed force.
“It’s so stupid,” Thad says at last, wearily. “All this killing.”
Max sighs.
“Yes.”
“How many of them have there been?”
For one selfish second, Max considers pretending he doesn't understand.
“Clones of you? Six.”
“How many dead?”
“Five.”
“And one frozen in the museum,” Thad confirms dully.
He knew? Where did he hear that?
“People talked,” Thad answers his unspoken question. “In the Watchtower.”
Max thinks back to the newly-healed Thad snapping defiance at Wally whenever he came near, thinks back to Thad asking over and over are you going to take my speed or what?, and realizes that not telling Thad everything right away was a mistake.
“Thad,” Max breathes, horrified at himself. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
Thad’s nose wrinkles bitterly.
Max doesn't want to push him too hard. Should he leave so Thad can process this without Max watching? Or should he stay and try to offer comfort somehow?
“Can I touch you?”
“…sure.”
Max scooches himself nearer the desk and puts his hand where he judges Thad’s shoulder to be. Thad tenses, then goes limp again. Max appreciates the vulnerability of this, that Thad is letting him touch him.
“I’m so sorry about CRAYDL.”
No response, absolutely none, as if Thad didn’t hear him.
“I love you.”
Thad shudders like Max has run a cold finger down his back.
“Sophos Thaddeus, I love you so much.”
Thad says wearily, “You’ve told me. Seven times.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I’m just… tired… I just want to sleep.”
Max has pushed the boy far enough. He’s grieving. He’s vulnerable. Max won’t make this into an argument.
“All right. Call me if you want me,” he says, and pats Thad’s shoulder one last time.
Thad twitches at the touch. Max quietly backs out of the room.
“I don’t want you, I want CRAYDL,” Thad’s raspy little voice says, just as Max shuts the door.
Max leans his forehead against the door. He can still feel the boy breathing in the other room. Just breathing. Once in a while, he blinks.
Max stays there until Thad’s eyes drift closed and his breathing deepens into the rhythm of sleep.
Then he puts on water for tea, hoping it’ll calm his anger at the Thawnes.
How could the Thawnes do that? How could they hurt this precious boy so deeply that he can’t even cry? The damage to him… Max sighs. Six hundred years, he thinks, waiting for the water to boil, and can’t even imagine it; it’s so huge a number that it ceases to mean anything; it’s just a number. Six hundred years. Six lifetimes. No wonder he’s so confused by love.
The process of steeping and pouring and drinking the tea does soothe his anger, but it leaves the sadness.
His boy. His precious boy.
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