Work Text:
There isn't a funeral.
Chris is glad that the government makes that decision for him. His first impulse--that his dad was a piece of shit and that Chris should dump his cremated remains down a fucking sewer--felt good but probably wasn't right, but he also wasn't sure what the right thing was. Lucky for him, it turns out that there's a protocol for the death of a supervillain, especially one with a group of heavily-armed followers who might turn up to a public funeral or just generally react poorly and violently to the death of their leader. August Smith's death is swept under the rug the same as every other body they left at Coverdale, and the world moves on quietly without him.
Chris knows it's for the best.
Still, he and Eagly and Adrian end up pulled off along the roadside on 395N. The pressure-washing crew and the intervening weeks of weather hadn't quite managed to remove all the hillbilly nazi blood from the roadway, although it's really only obvious if you're looking for it. He'd bought one of those roadside memorials, a wooden stake with a wreath of bright pink flowers on it, and he and Adrian extract it from the trunk and hammer it into the ground on the gravel shoulder.
Chris plants his feet and clears his throat. "I have something to say about my dad."
"I have some things to say about your dad," Adrian says, under his breath but still loud enough that Chris can hear. Eagly squawks quietly too, and it's hard for Chris not to read that as an agreement.
Chris clears his throat again. He makes eye contact with the ghost of his dad, who he sees standing on the other side of the road. "My dad... My dad was an awful person. He was an asshole. He was a racist, sexist d-bag. He killed my brother by making us fight each other for money. He fucked me up. He was a supervillain, and I guess since he tried to kill me specifically that makes him part of my coterie? He hated who I was. He hated who I'd become and who I want to be. And, honestly? Fuck him." He stares hard at the ghost. "Fuck you, Dad. Fuck you and your white power bullshit. The Deep State has your body now, and I hope whatever else of you there was has gone to hell."
He glances over at Adrian and Eagly now. "Anybody else want to say anything?"
Adrian shrugs, obviously both amused and impressed. "I mean, it seems like you've covered it." That doesn't stop him from stepping forward to where Chris is standing, though, and saying a few words of his own. "Adebayo once told me that your garbage dad would only ever hold you back. He was a monster, and I'm glad he's finally dead. You deserve it."
Chris squints at Adrian for a second. He knows he ought to be concerned about some of that, but now is probably not the time. Maybe later. Maybe never--his dad is dead, and that's what matters.
Instead, he turns to his BFF. "Eagly?"
Eagly takes flight, soaring away and landing about a quarter-mile down the road on some roadkill they'd passed while driving up. It's not surprising, but Chris can't help but be a little disappointed by Eagly's lack of support.
Adrian nudges him. "You ready for the last part?"
Chris is ready for the last part. Adrian returns to the trunk and gets out the can of gasoline. He offers it to Chris, who douses the roadside memorial and then tosses a match onto it. It goes up in a very satisfying burst of flame, the pink petals of the bouquet curling and blackening in the heat. He steps back next to Adrian to watch it burn.
"Fuck that guy!" Adrian shouts.
"Fuck that guy," Chris echoes.
They stand quietly for a minute. Adrian looks over at him. "You okay?"
Chris searches for an answer to that, comes up empty. He shrugs helplessly as he tries to blink back the tears blurring his vision. August Smith may have been a monster, but he was still Chris's dad.
"There, there," Adrian says quietly, gently and clumsily patting Chris's arm. "Nice touching. We are having some nice touching."
Chris sobs a laugh. He's not wrong; it is nice. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and sways a little closer to Adrian.
They lure Eagly back to the car with a bag of Doritos and leave the memorial burning in the rearview mirror. When Chris looks, his dad is in the rearview too.
He hopes with all his heart that's where his dad stays.