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Kevin Levin really, really didn’t want to be here.
He sat in his car outside his mom’s house longer than necessary, engine ticking softly as it cooled. The sky was already dark, streetlights buzzing faintly, and his reflection in the windshield looked more tired than a teenager probably should. Grease streaked his knuckles, his overshirt smelled like oil and metal, and every muscle in his body ached from a full day of work.
Still…it was better than the alternative.
He flexed his fingers, watching them move normally—humanly. No metal coating. No stone cracks. No jagged taydenite skin or unstable energy rippling under the surface. Just skin, scars, and calluses earned the normal way.
His normal.
A few days ago, that alone would’ve been a miracle.
His phone buzzed earlier at work with a message from his mom asking him to come by. Just dinner, she’d said.
Kevin could do dinner. Maybe a few awkward smiles. He owed her that much.
The teen exhaled slowly. He hadn’t wanted anything for his birthday. What gift could possibly top being himself again?
Nothing. No presents, no fuss, no cake, no parties. Being human again was all he wanted and needed to be.
That was enough. That was everything.
The teen`s thoughts persisted, staring at the exterior of his mom’s house. From there, everything looked calm, normal—even safe. He remembered the chaos from weeks prior. The day his father’s murderer had broken in, tearing through the rooms in search of the key his dad had taken.
He remembered the terror when he walked through the house, looking for his mother. The way the house had seemed to crumble around him and how, he had felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on his chest.
For his father`s legacy and Earth`s safety.
But now… seeing the freshly painted walls, the neat curtains, the porch light shining steadily in the dark, Kevin felt a strange, cautious relief. This time, the house was whole.
It wasn`t his fault this time around, he hadn`t destroyed it. For the first time in a long while, he could breathe without that familiar guilt gnawing at him.
He took a deep breath.
The teen pushed the car door open and headed up the walkway, hands shoved into his pockets. For a split second he considered turning around anyway. Emotional stuff wasn’t his strong suit. Birthdays even less so.
Kevin unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“SURPRISE-!”
The lights snapped on, and Kevin nearly jumped out of his skin.
He froze mid-step, eyes wide, instincts flaring before his brain caught up. Ben stood there with a stupidly proud grin. Gwen waved, clearly pleased with herself. Max Tennyson stood tall behind them, calm and solid as ever. And his mom—Eve—stood near the kitchen, hands clasped, eyes shining.
The living room was decorated. Streamers hung from the ceiling, a banner stretched across the wall, and the table was absolutely loaded with food. Way too much food.
Kevin’s heart dropped straight into his stomach.
“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered.
Ben laughed. “Dude, you should’ve seen your face.”
Kevin shot him a glare. This is exactly why I shouldn’t have told you guys the date, he thought bitterly. Heat crept up his neck, embarrassment settling in fast and heavy. He shifted his weight, suddenly hyper-aware of everyone looking at him.
“I said I didn’t want anything,” Kevin grumbled. “Today`s no big deal.”
Eve stepped forward gently. “I know, honey. But this isn’t about things.”
Gwen tilted her head, softer than usual. “It’s just…we’re glad you’re here. And that you’re you again.”
She gave him a peck on the cheek.
That stopped him short.
Kevin swallowed. Yeah. That was the thing, wasn’t it? After everything he’d been through—becoming something monstrous, losing his temper, flinching at recognizing himself in reflective surfaces—standing here in one piece felt surreal.
“…I’m not exactly great at parties,” he admitted, voice low.
Max smiled knowingly. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t much of one, kid.”
Kevin glanced around again. No loud music. No crowd. Just people he knew. People who, against all odds, stuck around.
“…Fine,” he said after a moment. “But if Ben starts singing, I’m leaving.”
Ben opened his mouth. Gwen elbowed him immediately.
The evening settled into something unexpectedly comfortable.
Kevin ate more than he realized. He’d missed real home-cooked food. Ben rambled about recent alien encounters. Gwen teased Kevin about being “officially old now.” Max listened when Kevin talked about work, nodding with genuine interest.
Kevin didn’t relax all at once—it came in pieces. A loosened shoulder here. A small smile there. He found himself laughing once, then twice, surprised each time.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t waiting for something to go wrong.
Ben and Gwen`s curfews came and they reluctantly headed home.
The conversations slowed, plates pushed aside, the house settling into a comfortable hush. Eve lingered near the table, fingers twisting together like she was weighing something.
“There is one thing,” she said gently.
Kevin’s shoulders tensed on instinct while his voice softened. “Mom…I said I didn’t want any presents.”
“I know,” she replied softly. “This isn’t really one.”
Max stepped forward then, holding a small box, neatly wrapped. Handled with care.
“I’ve had hold of this for a while,” Max said. “We decided you should have it now.”
Kevin frowned slightly as he took it. The box felt heavier than expected. He sat down before opening it, more out of intuition than intention, and carefully folded back the paper.
The metal inside caught the light.
A Plumber badge.
Worn smooth at the edges. Scratched. Real.
For a long moment, Kevin didn’t move.
His thumb brushed over the emblem without him thinking about it, tracing lines he’d seen before in old memories. The room felt too quiet, like everyone knew better than to interrupt whatever was happening behind his eyes.
“…I`ve forgotten what it looked like,” Kevin said finally, voice low.
Max nodded. “Your father wore it everywhere. Even when he wasn’t on duty.”
Kevin huffed a small, almost humorless breath. “Figures.”
He stared at the badge again, jaw tightening— thumb brushing over the emblem. The teen saw his reflection against the badge`s dull shine.
“…He wouldn’t have liked a lot of the stuff I did,” Kevin said after a moment. It wasn’t an accusation. Just a fact. “The people I hurt. The things I turned into. ”
Eve moved closer but didn’t interrupt.
Kevin swallowed. “Sometimes I wonder… if he’d even recognize me as his son.”
His fingers curled around the badge —just enough to ground himself.
“… I don’t know,” he continued quietly, “if turning things around now would’ve been enough for him. If he would’ve…forgiven me.”
The question hung there, unanswered.
Max placed a firm, steady hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “Devin believed in second chances,” he said quietly. “He’d be proud of the man you’re becoming.”
Kevin nodded once, eyes fixed on the badge.
His throat felt tight as he bowed his head, shoulders shaking as the tears came hard and fast, grief he’d kept locked down for years finally tearing through the cracks. He felt stupid for crying. Weak.
But he couldn’t stop.
Eve instantly pulled him into her arms.
“I know. I know.” she whispered, holding him tight.
He clutched the badge in one hand and her sweater in the other, breathing in shakily.
Kevin squeezed his eyes shut. “...It’s not fair.”
“No,” she agreed, voice trembling too. “It’s not.”
After a while, the tears slowed. Kevin leaned back, wiping his face with his sleeve, embarrassed but… lighter, somehow.
Max rested a steady hand on the teen’s shoulder.
“…Thanks. Both of you,” he muttered.
Eve leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.
He didn’t respond. The teen just closed the box carefully, like it was something sacred, and held it in his lap.
For the first time that day, for the first time in a long while, Kevin felt like he wasn’t alone.