David woke before everyone else.
Old habits.
For years he’d trained himself to wake at the slightest disturbance. An alarm wasn’t necessary when the world had a habit of going fubar at inconvenient hours. Even now, with nothing pressing waiting for him, his eyes opened a little after five.
For a moment he simply lay there on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Outside, rain tapped lazily against the windows, soft enough that it sounded more like fingers drumming than an actual storm.
There were no alarms, no one pounding on the door because something the size of a mountain had crawled out of the ocean.
David let out a slow breath. He could get used to this. But the thought was dangerous—every time he’d begun believing things were settling down, the world had reminded him otherwise—so he pushed himself upright anyway.
The blanket folded itself neatly before he even realised he’d used a power, settling over the back of the couch in a crisp rectangle.
“…Right.”
He frowned at it.
Maybe that was cheating, but he couldn't help it. His powers hadn't felt this effortless since before the original Eidolon fought Superman.
The kitchen was empty when he stepped into it. He found the coffee without much difficulty, mostly because Danny apparently believed coffee should occupy an entire shelf by itself.
David had just remembered how the machine worked when he heard footsteps behind him. Danny shuffled in wearing old sweatpants and a faded Brockton Bay University T-shirt that was probably older than Taylor.
He stopped when he saw David. “Oh.”
“I may have overstepped my boundaries.”
Danny rubbed sleep from one eye. “I wouldn't say that.”
For a second they simply stood there, then Danny pointed toward the cupboard.
“Mugs are on the second shelf.”
“I found them.”
“I figured.”
Another pause.
Danny looked at the coffee machine. “…You know how to use that?”
David looked at it. “It is pretty straightforward.”
“You’d be surprised.”
That earned the slightest twitch at the corner of David’s mouth.
Danny noticed. “Huh.”
“What?”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you started living here.”
“I wasn’t aware you were monitoring me.”
“Don't take it the wrong way,” Danny said, reaching for another mug. “It’s just a habit I have from years of parenting.”
David nodded slowly at that. “I’ll try to smile more.”
The coffee finished brewing.
Danny took a sip from his own mug and sighed with satisfaction, simply basking in the moment. Then, they stood together in silence, and David found he didn’t mind it anymore.
There had been a time when silence meant waiting. Waiting for a briefing, the next alarm, or for someone to burst through a door screaming about the next disaster. This was just… coffee.
Danny eventually leaned against the counter. “So.”
“So?”
“You settling in okay?”
David looked into his coffee. “I believe so.”
“‘Believe so’?”
“I’m still adjusting.”
Danny nodded slowly. “I get that.”
He didn’t press. David appreciated that. Most people did, but Danny simply accepted that there were things David wasn’t ready to talk about.
It reminded him, strangely enough, of Legend.
The thought came and went before he could linger on it.
“You know,” Danny said after another minute, “Taylor told me she found you standing on a roof.”
“She did.” David sighed. “I’ve been wondering.”
David waited for what he knew was coming.
“What exactly were you doing on that roof?”
The question should have been easy. Instead, he found himself genuinely thinking about it.
“I don’t know.”
Danny blinked at him. “You don’t know?”
“I remember deciding to come here.”
“And?”
“I don’t remember why.”
That sounded absurd once spoken aloud, but Danny didn’t laugh. No, he frowned thoughtfully into his coffee.
“Huh.”
“Hm?”
“I’ve done that.”
David looked over.
Danny shrugged. “Driven somewhere, got there, and couldn’t remember why I’d left the house in the first place.”
David stared. “I don’t believe the situations are remotely comparable.”
“No?”
“You generally don’t accidentally fly across the country.”
Danny chuckled. “Fair point.”
To his surprise, David chuckled too.
Taylor stopped halfway down the stairs.
Her dad and David were talking. Actually talking this time and not the awkward exchanges they’d had over dinner the first night. They sounded… comfortable.
She reached the bottom quietly enough that neither noticed immediately.
Danny was saying something about the city’s non-existent ferry system, and David was listening with genuine interest.
“…and then they finally got funding to fix the terminal.”
“I imagine that was appreciated.”
“You have no idea.”
Taylor cleared her throat.
Both men looked over.
“Morning,” Danny said.
David nodded once. “Good morning.”
She looked between them. “…What happened?”
Danny frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You two are…” She gestured vaguely. “This.”
David looked equally confused. “We’re drinking coffee.”
“I noticed.”
Danny grinned, but remained silent.
Taylor looked at David, the unasked question obvious in her gaze.
“I find your father pleasant company.”
Danny looked absurdly pleased by that.
Taylor had to hide a smile. Well, that answered one question. Aisha answered another by stumbling downstairs looking half-dead.
“I hate mornings.”
Brian appeared behind her. “You were awake until two.”
“I was cultivating my artistic spirit.”
“You were watching conspiracy videos.”
“They’re documentaries.”
Brian reached the kitchen first, only to stop, his eyes landing on David, then on Danny. Then back again.
“…You’re both awake.”
“We are.”
“And everything’s normal?”
David looked at Danny.
He shrugged. “So far.”
Brian narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I don’t trust this.”
Aisha yawned loudly. “I think the old guy drugged David with good coffee.”
Danny looked offended. “I’m forty-eight.”
“So ancient.”
“You are literally half my age.”
“Take that back!”
David quietly slid a mug toward Brian before the argument could continue.
Brian looked at it with a sigh. “…Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then he took a sip. “…Okay.”
“What?”
“That is good coffee.”
Danny pointed triumphantly at David. “See?”
David looked up from his coffee. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Taylor leaned against the doorway watching all this happen.
It was almost embarrassingly normal.
If someone had shown her this scene a year ago she’d have laughed in their face. David, whoever he really was, should have stood out. He should have felt like a stranger sitting in their kitchen.
Instead, it looked like he’d always been there, and she wasn't sure when it had happened.
Later that afternoon Danny wandered into the basement.
“I swear I had a screwdriver…”
David glanced up from where he was sorting through an old toolbox.
“The flathead?”
Danny blinked. “…Yes.”
David pointed. “Third drawer.”
Danny opened it, and here it was. “Huh.” He frowned. “I looked there.”
“It was behind the tape measure.”
“…You’re very observant.”
David looked at the toolbox. “I suppose.”
Danny knelt beside him. “I was actually looking for your help.”
David looked up. “With?”
Danny jerked a thumb at the basement windows, toward the front of the house. The rain had eased by now, and the sun was out in full force.
“The step.”
“The step?”
“The one leading up to the porch.” He sighed. “It’s broken. Every couple of months I tell myself I’ll fix it.”
“And every couple of months?”
“I find something else to do.”
David followed him around the side of the house.
The wooden step leading up to the porch looked perfectly ordinary until Danny put a foot on it. It dipped with an unmistakable creak.
“There,” Danny said. He stepped off. “It does that every single time.”
David crouched, running a hand along the timber. The wood itself was still sound. One board had warped slightly over the years, and a couple of screws had worked themselves loose. Nothing serious.
His first instinct was to reach for a power, maybe telekinesis or simple matter manipulation to straighten the warped timber and tighten the screws. Instead he withdrew his hand.
“Do you have a drill?”
Danny frowned slightly. “…You’re asking?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you’d just…” He made an awkward flourish with his fingers. “Cape it.”
“Cape it?”
“You know.”
“I genuinely don’t.”
Danny shrugged. “Laser eyes. Telekinesis. Tiny construction gremlins.”
“I don’t have construction gremlins.”
“That’s exactly what someone with construction gremlins would say.”
David laughed, a proper laugh this time. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Twenty-five minutes later they were still outside. The old screws had come out, the warped board had been planed flat, and Danny held it steady while David drove fresh screws into place. Neither of them spoke much. The work itself filled the silence.
When they finished, Danny put one cautious foot on the step. There was no creak. He shifted his weight. Solid. He bounced once for good measure. Still nothing.
“Huh.”
David looked up. “Huh?”
“I’ve been listening to that thing complain every day for…” Danny scratched the back of his neck. “Honestly? Maybe ten years.”
“It was long overdue.”
Danny nodded, then he glanced sideways. “You could’ve fixed it in about two seconds.”
“I could have.”
“So why didn’t you?”
David rested his hands on his knees, looking at the step. Fresh wood shavings lay scattered around his shoes, his palms were dusty, and there was a smear of sawdust across one sleeve.
“I’ve spent a long time solving problems by using my powers.”
Danny waited.
“This…” David nudged the step lightly with his foot. “This stays fixed because we repaired it.”
“We.”
David looked over.
Danny smiled. “We.”
David found himself looking back toward the house. Taylor was curled up on the couch with a book, Brian’s voice drifted from upstairs, and Aisha was singing something loudly and completely off-key.
He smiled despite himself.
Danny noticed. “You seem happier,” he said.
David took longer than usual to answer. “…I think I am.”
He was still carrying the same questions he’d woken with that morning. Yet somehow, spending half an hour repairing an old wooden step had left him feeling lighter than he’d expected.
Danny climbed the step again, then back down, and up once more for good measure.
“Perfect.”
“You seem pleased.”
“I am.” He grinned. “Now nobody has an excuse when they trip coming up to the front door.”
From inside the house came a loud crash.
Aisha shouted, “I’m okay!”
Danny closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly.
David chuckled. “I believe dinner is ready.”
“I believe you’re right.”
David looked at the house again, a smile still on his lips. He hadn’t come to Brockton Bay looking for any of this. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he’d come looking for anything at all. He had just needed to be somewhere else. But he’d ended up finding a house where people argued over coffee, complained about chores, watched terrible television, and expected him to join in as though he’d always been there.
He should leave. Maybe tomorrow, before staying started feeling permanent.
Tomorrow, he told himself. He’d leave tomorrow. But somehow, the promise didn’t feel convincing.