The light from the doorway spilled on Dare, his features brought into relief from the surrounding darkness. He was looking a little thin, his cheeks not as cherubic as Adam would have liked them to be, but food had been harder to come by since Interitus had taken control of the city. Adam leaned against the doorframe of his room, arms crossed, brows furrowed.
This wasn’t the sort of world he’d wanted to bring a child into. He’d been so hopeful about Dare’s future when Teela had given birth to him. He’d expected a world where he could grow up carefree and happy, where he could play in the forest with his cousin, who now was sleeping curled next to him on the bed, their ear twitching from a dream, with only the usual sorts of dangerous magical forests presented. He’d wanted a world where he could go to school, and make a lot of friends his own age, where he could be free in a way Adam never had been growing up.
This darkness wouldn’t last. Adam knew that much, at least. Things seemed grim now, but by the time Dare was old enough to go to school, Adam was sure that they’d be in the process of rebuilding, if the rebuilding wasn’t already finished. Evil rose sometimes, but never for long before it was sent off again with its tail between its legs.
Adam was just being pessimistic because he couldn’t access He-Man anymore. Ever since Castle Grayskull had fallen, he couldn’t access the Sword of Power at all from whatever pocket dimension it usually stayed in. He felt hollowed out and empty without the magic that had been his for over a decade, and useless now that he couldn’t fight how he wished he could.
He knew it was Teela who approached behind him without even turning. He knew her from the tread of her feet, from the sound of her breath. He gave her a moment to watch their son, and then he turned to face her and inclined his head, indicating that they should head somewhere where they wouldn’t disturb the children, and then walked toward the kitchen.
Life had never been what Teela could call peaceful. Even on Eternia, they had been fighting battle after battle against Skeletor, Evil-Lyn, and a menagerie of other ever-persistent villains determined to do their home harm. She had been training to fight since she was a baby, then fighting those battles herself as she got older.
All the while, alongside her best friend.
She still had her best friend – her husband now, the love of her life – and a Vallo-found family of people she loved more than anything. Her son now topped the list of her most important people, of course, but without every single one of them, it would be so easy to start feeling hopeless in their current circumstances. The Outlanders had suffered so many losses, but even after their First Stand had failed, there was still hope that they could fight back and make an impact.
That hopeful feeling was debatably anchored in reality, but things weren’t dire enough that she couldn’t hold onto it.
Dare, her perfect little boy, was two now, and his cousin Finn was his favorite person. They would often end up curled up in one bed or the other together during nap times and bedtimes; she wasn’t surprised to see that was the case when she poked her head in over Adam’s shoulder during his check-in. She was tempted to squeeze past to give them both kisses, but they’d come by again later.
She took her husband’s hand, letting him lead the way down Darla’s stairs to the second deck. The ship was quiet; Catra and Adora were tucked away in their room, leaving them the run of the place for the time being.
“Hungry?” she asked, running a hand up Adam’s arm. They were low on supplies right now, but it wasn't dismal just yet. “I think we can scrounge something small up.”
“I could eat,” Adam said, bringing her fingers to his lips. He was tempted to suggest brewing a pot of coffee too, but resisted. It was hard to tell how Sabrina’s project to grow coffee beans would go, and it was better to ration it. This wasn’t one of the nights when he felt like he needed it.
Instead, once they made it to the kitchen, he let go of Teela’s hand to start scrounging through the fridge for something, and after a couple of moments of moving things around, he asked into the fridge, “How are you doing anyway? With the… with the loss of Grayskull.” With the loss of magic.
While Adam went for the refrigerator, Teela went for dishware, pulling a couple of plates out and bringing them to the counter. She leaned back against it while her husband rooted around for food, crossing her arms over her chest and watching him. It was a good view from back here.
She hummed in answer to his question. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s… There’s nothing I can do about it.” She shrugged, like it was nothing, though they both knew better. She’d lived most of her life without magic, and it wasn’t entirely gone now. Grayskull had been her centerpoint, but magic was in her blood. She could still feel it, albeit much weaker than it had ever been.
It sucked, honestly, but she had to accept it. Interitus had been sucking the life, and magic, and power out of all of them, long before they’d even realized.
Adam clenched his teeth, but grabbed what he needed for a quick salad for both of them and pulled his head out of the fridge. There was nothing they could do, not until Interitus was defeated.
He pulled out one of the kitchen knives and started chopping up some of the vegetables.
“I feel so useless,” Adam admitted after a few moments of grim chopping. “I’ve been He-Man more than half my life, and I know I’ve lost the Power before. When Skeletor took it for himself. But the Power was still there. I could still feel it. Now…” He opened his hand, the one not holding the knife, and stared hard at his palm. “Now I don’t feel it at all, Teela.”
Teela followed suit, grabbing another knife and taking half the vegetables for herself. Teamwork made the dreamwork, as children’s cartoons these days were fond of proclaiming. That had always been true of her and Adam, and nothing was going to stop that.
She frowned, pausing in her own chopping when Adam held a palm open. She dropped her knife and closed both of her hands around that one. “Adam, He-Man is as much a part of you as anything else,” she assured him softly. “He’s in there. I know everything feels shaky right now, but you still have the Power, deep down inside. Just like Adora. Just like me.”
Adam curled his fingers around Teela’s hand, taking comfort in the feeling of his own sandwiched between hers. “Even if I wanted to become Savage He-Man again,” he did not, “I don’t think I could do it.” He sighed, stepping closer so he could rest his head on Teela’s shoulder. “I just feel so useless right now. Knowing that not so long ago I used to be so much more than I am right now, it’s…It’s frustrating.”
“You’re not useless,” Teela insisted. She knew it felt that way; she felt it, too. Even growing up out of touch with her magic, it had become second nature to her in such a big way over the past five years. Losing touch with it now was tough. “You’re still a fighter, and you’re compassionate, and you’re a source of strength for your family. Our little boy has an amazing father to look up to, Adam: you. Not He-Man, just my Adam.”
My Adam. He smiled at that, a warmth filling his stomach. He wasn’t just Prince Adam, He-Man, hero anymore. He was Adam, husband to Teela, father of Dare. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten, just that sometimes, it was hard to think of himself as anything other than He-Man, Hero of Eternia, Strongest Man in the Universe.
He lifted his head from Teela’s shoulder, his smile gentle. “So long as I’m your Adam, I can handle anything,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but he wanted to, and he did know that so long as Teela was by his side, he could handle anything that life threw at him. He leaned forward to kiss her.
Teela happily leaned in to kiss him, both hands raised to cup his face. He’d been scruffy lately – no time for shaving with all the hardship around them – but she liked it a lot. There was something strangely soothing about feeling that under her fingers, about seeing him a little aged. He was still her Adam underneath it all, but he was far from the prince he’d once been.
“I love you,” she assured him. “And I know it’s gonna be hard for everyone to hold onto hope, so when you’re feeling down, tell me. I’ll take the mantle on.”
“I love you too,” Adam said, resting his forehead against hers. “Do you mind if we just stay like this for a little bit? I could use some of that strength of yours right now.”
“You got it.” Teela kissed him again and shifted her grip to wrap around his shoulders and keep him close. Things may seem dismal right now, but they were together, and that was what counted most.