Bug began to coo, the talking having roused him from his milk drunk nap against Sheila’s shoulder.

“I vas worried your husband vas impotent. Vith clones it is always a mix bag. I am glad zat vasn’t the case.”

The Monarch snapped at that fury in his eyes. He knew this whole time about him being a clone. “What the fuck?! You knew?!”

Dr. Killinger shrugged. “I thought it vas obvious. You are very hirsute.”

"Yes, yes, the cat's out of the bad, apparently his swimmers are stronger than that. This is the child."

“Ack, I need a moment…” He sniffed getting choked up. “I told myself I vouldn’t cry…”

Malcolm smirked the tiniest bit as Dr. Killinger sat back down. A burst of pride blooming in his chest as his son brought a grown man to tears, albeit with his cuteness but still!

Bug had been alive and kicking in the world for about a week and the adjustment period was rough. It wasn’t that the newborn was necessarily fussy. But he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it. And had no means to communicate it.

Malcolm and Gary looked absolutely road haggard and The Mighty Monarch was kind of jealous that his wife somehow managed to look picture perfect despite the lack of sleep, constantly having a kid gnawing at her tit and diapers that have actually made him vomit.

“I vish to see ze child.”

The Monarch nearly jumped out of his skin, and absolutely spilled the precious lifeblood of coffee that he was clinging to. His cool Mighty Monarch track suit had been trashed at this point, why not add cruelty free dark roast to the mess.

He looked where the voice came from and the familiar mumble with a German accent came from the man sitting in a wing back chair.

Good news (??) though? Sheila has honed the mighty necessary skill of falling asleep at the drop of a hat. Standing up? Snoreville. On the toilet for a BLESSED MOMENT ALONE? Snoooormimimimimi.

She jolts awake at that familiar voice--

Bug began to coo, the talking having roused him from his milk drunk nap against Sheila’s shoulder.

“I vas worried your husband vas impotent. Vith clones it is always a mix bag. I am glad zat vasn’t the case.”

The Monarch snapped at that fury in his eyes. He knew this whole time about him being a clone. “What the fuck?! You knew?!”

Dr. Killinger shrugged. “I thought it vas obvious. You are very hirsute.”

Malcolm steered Sheila toward one of the chairs that had been previously occupied. He was fussing, he did that when he was anxious.

“John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, his name was my name too…” Bug was beginning to transition from humming to singing quietly.

A doctor in a white lab coat and scrubs came in. “You must be Donovan’s parents, I’m Dr. Brickmyer.”

"Yes, that's us," she nods, squeezing Malcolm's hand to snap him out of it. Yes, yes, they'd used Bug so often, and since the beginning, that sometimes even she forgets.

“I told him not to do it.” Luke sounds almost exasperated. “I said it was a dumb idea.”

In the bed, delightful high on IV pain medication, Bug speaks up. “Mommy! They said I broke my leg! They saw my bones!” He sounded fascinated and thrilled.

“So they said he has a standard break, it might need surgery if they can’t set it by hand. He’s on a morphine drip for now. The nurse said they needed you two here for them to do that. And for an MRI, they think he has a concussion but they want to make sure it’s not more severe.” Kathleen offered Malcolm and Sheila all the information she had while gathering her things, handing the duty of care back over to the Bug’s father and mother. She gave Sheila a brief hug, they’d become pretty close over the years thanks to the boys.

“I confiscated the grappling gun.” She added with her thick New Jersey accent. “If you want to send the big guy around to get it.” Clearly referring to Gary. “I better go save Bryan from the rabid horde we left him with, c’mon Luke.”

Sheila tries to strongest-weak smile she can and waves to Luke once his mother pulls away. Then the Monarchs are left to the silence-- the beeping of the monitors, Bug humming to himself-- not silent at all.

It's all so much...her mind is whirling-- a clean break or not, surgery this young, a concussion-- she has half a mind to burn the grappling hook later.

Malcolm steered Sheila toward one of the chairs that had been previously occupied. He was fussing, he did that when he was anxious.

“John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, his name was my name too…” Bug was beginning to transition from humming to singing quietly.

A doctor in a white lab coat and scrubs came in. “You must be Donovan’s parents, I’m Dr. Brickmyer.”

“Bug, in all his wisdom, decided to show off the grappling gun. Apparently he broke the gutter, managed to fall several feet and had to be taken by ambulance.”

At the hospital, Bug looked rough and absolutely dwarfed by the hospital bed he was in. He was moving in and out of being conscious as he received some good pain medicine. His leg was very much broken.

“I told him not to do it.” Luke sounds almost exasperated. “I said it was a dumb idea.”

In the bed, delightful high on IV pain medication, Bug speaks up. “Mommy! They said I broke my leg! They saw my bones!” He sounded fascinated and thrilled.

“So they said he has a standard break, it might need surgery if they can’t set it by hand. He’s on a morphine drip for now. The nurse said they needed you two here for them to do that. And for an MRI, they think he has a concussion but they want to make sure it’s not more severe.” Kathleen offered Malcolm and Sheila all the information she had while gathering her things, handing the duty of care back over to the Bug’s father and mother. She gave Sheila a brief hug, they’d become pretty close over the years thanks to the boys.

“I confiscated the grappling gun.” She added with her thick New Jersey accent. “If you want to send the big guy around to get it.” Clearly referring to Gary. “I better go save Bryan from the rabid horde we left him with, c’mon Luke.”

“You’ve reached the Mighty Monarch.” His face drops and he sighs deeply. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He was massaging his temples. “I mean him being alive is ideal. Not a fan of the fact that you’re reassuring me of that.” A pause. “Yes, I’ll make sure she knows it’s not your fault.” Another pause. “Awesome, great. Which one?” Malcolm clicked his tongue. “Yeah, yeah. Bye.”

He set the phone down and took a deep breath. “That was just Bryan with a Y.” Because of course two of their son’s friends had fathers name Brian. “You’ll never guess what our son, whom we love very much, did?”

For now there's a knot in her stomach that she isn't sure is her fear, or the littlest caterpillar.

"Something that's going to get him grounded for a year," Sheila replies steadily.

“Bug, in all his wisdom, decided to show off the grappling gun. Apparently he broke the gutter, managed to fall several feet and had to be taken by ambulance.”

At the hospital, Bug looked rough and absolutely dwarfed by the hospital bed he was in. He was moving in and out of being conscious as he received some good pain medicine. His leg was very much broken.

“You’ve reached the Mighty Monarch.” His face drops and he sighs deeply. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He was massaging his temples. “I mean him being alive is ideal. Not a fan of the fact that you’re reassuring me of that.” A pause. “Yes, I’ll make sure she knows it’s not your fault.” Another pause. “Awesome, great. Which one?” Malcolm clicked his tongue. “Yeah, yeah. Bye.”

He set the phone down and took a deep breath. “That was just Bryan with a Y.” Because of course two of their son’s friends had fathers name Brian. “You’ll never guess what our son, whom we love very much, did?”

"As much as the money sounds nice...it doesn't leave a very good taste in my mouth."

Sure, it was a mistake but wouldn't that one day make this one feel bad? A little jolt of guilt there.

“And if it makes you feel, I’ll do my best to be the bad guy as often as possible when it comes to this one.” Malcolm gestured at her stomach.

Her hands come to rest delicately on her belly-- more of a little hill than an ant hill.

“And if it makes you feel, I’ll do my best to be the bad guy as often as possible when it comes to this one.” Malcolm gestured at her stomach.

"I am always the bad guy when it comes to our son. It's me telling him no, it's me having to disappoint him-- you hang the moon and stars to him--" And maybe, deep down, she is a little jealous of that still. "You never have to tell him no, or break his little heart."

He turned the door knob and entered the vestibule. He took off his coat, hat and shoes, putting them in their correct places. And he checked himself in the mirror.

Just unleash the old Monarch charm, it’ll be fine. It’s not like he meant to go against the agreement they had regarding Bug’s involvement in the whole good guy vs bad guy game. He technically was just getting his son a nice costume for Halloween and it accidentally turned into his first costume for a lil bit more than that.

“Sweetness, I’m home!” Malcolm called out before making his way to the kitchen.

Apparently that was going to be the location for his assassination, as he came face to face with Sheila.

Sheila makes herself a plate and sits across from him.

"Look...accident or not, what's done is done. He won't be oblivious to all this forever-- he's a smart boy."

Their smart boy.

"But I'll say this." She leans in. "I didn't carry him for 9 months, deliver him painkiller free, and have Pete fucking White and Big Head Billy look at my snatch for me to be the bad guy all the time."

She reaches over now to prod him harshly in the chest--

He’d accepted his fate, deciding he’d lived a long enough life. 52 wasn’t that bad for someone in his field of work.

He turned the door knob and entered the vestibule. He took off his coat, hat and shoes, putting them in their correct places. And he checked himself in the mirror.

Just unleash the old Monarch charm, it’ll be fine. It’s not like he meant to go against the agreement they had regarding Bug’s involvement in the whole good guy vs bad guy game. He technically was just getting his son a nice costume for Halloween and it accidentally turned into his first costume for a lil bit more than that.

“Sweetness, I’m home!” Malcolm called out before making his way to the kitchen.

Apparently that was going to be the location for his assassination, as he came face to face with Sheila.

They’d been together about 25 years at this point. Malcolm was very well acquainted with the technique that involved her giving him affection before going in for the kill.

It always ended in a bad time.

His Adam’s apple bobbed a bit as he gulped. “I always am.” He tried to keep his voice level.

From where Bug stood it just looked like his parents being gross again. “Dad, c’mon!” He whined.

“I better take him.” Malcolm tried to put on a good face for Bug, giving Sheila a peck before going to lead their tween out on his candy quest.

Malcolm knows he's in for it. She knows he's in for it-- she just has to formulate what she wants to say, and not completely blow up.

They have to do what's best for their boy, even if she doesn't like it.

He’d accepted his fate, deciding he’d lived a long enough life. 52 wasn’t that bad for someone in his field of work.

Hurry up, Bug, before your mother draws and quarters me!

“It’s not liking I’m going to—“ He was cut off by Bug, Spiderman pillow case in hand, bouncing on his toes in excitement.

“Dad! Let’s go! I wanna have a good selection for the swap at Luke’s!”

Bug was supposed to end his night at his best friend’s, a kid with asthma that was a stereotypical nerd, where there was going to be a slumber party with a couple other boys.

As soon as Bug brought up board games that were overly complicated, he’d tuned out but Malcolm had gathered that they would be trading candy before it’d gotten to that point.

Malcolm had thought tonight would, perhaps, be a nice little break for him and Sheila before they started this whole kid cycle all over again but he highly doubted that now.

Her man is going to get it. Humming, she reaches out to smooth down any wrinkles on his shirt.

They’d been together about 25 years at this point. Malcolm was very well acquainted with the technique that involved her giving him affection before going in for the kill.

It always ended in a bad time.

His Adam’s apple bobbed a bit as he gulped. “I always am.” He tried to keep his voice level.

From where Bug stood it just looked like his parents being gross again. “Dad, c’mon!” He whined.

“I better take him.” Malcolm tried to put on a good face for Bug, giving Sheila a peck before going to lead their tween out on his candy quest.