InsaneJournal

Maybe if Marlena hadn’t been there, Adam would have been able to tough the sickness that had washed over him when he’d transformed into He-Man. Maybe, if Marlena hadn’t been there, he would have gone through his day, and made his own soup, and maybe, maybe would have curled up with his head on Teela’s lap at the end of the day.

But he didn’t have to try to act strong, or like he didn’t feel gross, and icky, and sick because his mom was here in Vallo, visiting again, and while Adam was sure that, again, she’d be sent home in a few short weeks, he was glad that right now, when he was sick and feverish, she was here to smooth sweat-dampened hair from his forehead and to take care of him like when he’d been sick as a child.

“Mama,” he called, and if someone wanted to claim that his voice had something of a whine to it, he couldn’t blame them. “Mama, can you make me some soup?”

Marlena was positively thrilled to be back. Perhaps the third time would be a charm, and Vallo would keep her longer than her first two days, but like the previous ones – she’d simply take it, make the memories, live with her family (her children, her daughter-in-laws, her grandchild) like tomorrow wasn’t promised.

The timing for this round was perfect (sort of). Most of them were sick, and she was needed, and she absolutely had this.

Until Adam called for her, requesting something she absolutely did not have. Not because she lacked the ingredients (she didn’t know that for sure, she wasn’t quite familiar with their kitchen set up here yet), but because she wasn’t quite sure… how. How to do that.

The soup.

“I can definitely make you some soup,” Marlena told her son, the blatant lie veiled by a comforting smile and a cold washcloth to his face. “It’s been awhile, though.”

“Mmm,” Adam agreed. “I haven’t been sick since I got the Power.” He was definitely whining now. “But you always made the best soup.”

He had very fond memories of his mother’s chicken noodle soup. Sometimes, the little noodles had been in the shapes of tigers, and seeing Cringer looking up at him from his soup bowl had always lightened his spirits. They’d always had the perfect ratio of broth to noodles to veggies, and had been just salty enough. He’d always liked the cooks cooking at the castle, had even spent enough time in the kitchen and had shown enough interest that they’d taught him how to cook too, and when he was older he’d spent a lot of time in the kitchens experimenting with food.

But nothing the cooks had ever made had ever compared to the soup his mom had made just for him whenever he was sick. All the mother’s love she poured into making it set it miles above anything else he’d ever tasted.

Marlena, quietly, was beginning to realize she was in an unfortunate pickle: this castle had no staff.

Obviously, yes, she was aware of that fact from the beginning – there was no monarchy here, there was no actual castle housing some royal family that was fully staffed and everything was just there, convenient. The last time she did anything in the kitchen was on Darla when she and Randor had been around the first time, and her attempt at pancakes was utterly embarrassing that her daughter-in-law was forced to step in before all the batter became burnt crust at the bottom of the pan.

It made a very clear demonstration to everyone that she was not, in fact, suited or trained when it came to culinary tasks. It was also a miracle – bless him – that Adam had not connected the dots.

Could she break it to him? Gods, no. It was a cruelty far worse than telling a child Santa Clause wasn’t real.

“I can, um.” Don’t panic, don’t panic. Think. Marlena’s smile became awkwardly stained but she did her best to keep up appearances. “See what you have around and order some ingredients in case?” Is Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup a thing here? “And I’ll be more than happy to cook it up for you and Teela.”

Adam gave Marlena a wan smile. “Yeah, that would be nice. You can ask Cringer if you need help finding anything. He knows where everything is.” Or, at least, he should, with how often he was underfoot when Adam was putzing around the kitchen.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m ecstatic I’m here,” Marlena responded softly, aching sincerity and all. Back home she didn’t remember these moments – where she was with both her kids, and she could see them in a life that wasn’t bogged down by ties of destiny. These moments in between were precious to her. “Now –”

That washcloth was laid across his head before she stood, and tucked the blanket around him. “Stay here, you big baby,” she chuckled. “Give me time to work on that soup. I haven’t made it in awhile–” Or ever. “But I hope it still tastes good.”

The air of confidence she exited his room with quickly dissipated once the door closed behind her. Fishing for her phone, Marlena went to work, searching for items to be delivered as she went through the halls. She purchased cans (dozens of them) and they were brought to the castle rather quickly (thank you, Vallo Waypoints).

This wouldn’t be hard. Marlena’s confidence grew, knowing that all she had to do was empty the cans into a large cooking pot, let it heat up, stir it and – yes, excellent, done. It did occur to her that it was a bit thick but it was surely fine.

She left a tray outside Teela’s door and then returned to Adam. “Look what I’ve got for you,” she sang, kicking the door shut with her foot.

Adam had managed a few minutes of fitful sleep while Marlena was gone, alternatively kicking off his covers because he was too hot, and then wrapping himself in them again because he was too cold. Adam had, somehow, forgotten just how miserable having a fever was. He hadn’t missed it at all.

His sleep was light enough that when Marlena returned, he was awake even before she spoke.

“Thanks, Mama,” he groaned, and then forced himself to sit up, resting his back against his headboard. He took the tray and balanced it on his lap.

The soup… didn’t look the same as he remembered, but that was only to be expected. Eternia and Vallo had different ingredients, after all. It seemed thick, but he remembered a couple of soups that were closer to stews, and so he thought nothing of it.

And then he took a bite.

There was a long time when he just let the soup sit in his mouth, resisting the urge to spit it out again. It was salty. So salty.

He was sweating though (maybe a little more now that he was struggling with this soup than he had been before). He gamely swallowed the mouthful of soup. His mother obviously knew what was best. She knew what he needed to replenish all his body was losing with all this feeling sick. And it wasn’t that bad. Not really. He took another bite. No, now that he knew what to expect, it was actually pretty good.

He managed to turn his grimace into a grateful smile. “Thanks, mom. This is exactly what I need.” He hesitated a moment. Part of him felt bad for asking; she’d done so much for him already, but he didn’t think he had much of a choice in this case. “Could I get some water too?”

Marlena sported her own, ah, grimace. She knew her son. She didn’t let nursemaids care for him as it was customary to do in some kingdoms – he was hers, and after losing Adora, she couldn’t fathom losing a second with Adam. She was there for all the firsts. She knew the little telltales of his lies (she had known he was He-Man, after all). This was that.

That brand of soup on Earth was always popular – how the hell could she have gone wrong with it?

“Absolutely,” she said, taking a water bottle from the nightstand and twisting it open for him (clearly he was too ill to do it himself, and mother was here). “Does – your throat hurt? When you swallow?”

Was it bad that she hoped that was the case? Goodness.

Adam blushed sheepishly. “No, it’s not that,” he said. “It’s just, maybe, a little salty? But that’s alright. I know that you’re just trying to make sure I gain back all the electrolyte’s I’ve lost. I’m He-Man, I can handle a little salt in my soup.”

He gave her a brave smile and choked down another mouthful.

That face he made was a sign that there was more than a little salt in his soup. Marlena’s grimace didn’t really wane. “Dear,” she began gently, placing a hand on his arm. “That looks uncomfortable. I may have… overestimated the amount of salt in this batch’s recipe, is all, you don’t have to make yourself eat it to make me happy.”

My gods, she was the worst mother ever.

Adam hesitated. He hadn’t only been eating the soup to make his mom feel better. He knew that his mother’s soup had always made him feel better too. It was true that this soup… was not great though. Maybe she had made some sort of mistake. He knew that Marlena’s other cooking was… not often great, the few times when she’d attempted to do cooking of her own.

“I bet Vallo salt is stronger than Eternia salt,” Adam conceded, though even when he said it it didn’t feel sure. He hadn’t had much trouble with it. But then, he’d always added salt to taste, and maybe Marlena had been following the same recipe she’d always used at home… “Thanks for making it, Mom. I do appreciate it.”

“Ah, yes, let’s – let me take that,” Marlena offered, gingerly taking the bowl and its leftover liquid abomination from him. Adam didn’t need to be subjected to that anymore (her poor baby), and she’d have to swipe the tray she left out for Teela before she became the next victim of Bad Soup. “I’ll order something for us instead, hm? Something that’s not just water and salt.”

She’d have to come clean about this eventually. Not today – it wouldn’t be good for Adam’s health (is what she told herself).

Adam shot his mom a slightly guilty smile. He knew that she’d worked hard, and felt a little bad that he hadn’t just tried to eat the soup without complaining. “Take out sounds great, Mom. And maybe a movie? I think we could talk Teela into coming out to the couches.”

“A perfect idea,” Marlena said, glancing down at the contents with a bowl with mild disgust and wondering how she could have ever thought this was servable - goodness. “I’ll go get Teela.”

And then toss the rest of this abomination away for good.