Cuphead and Mugman in "Fate Will Find You"

Home

It was after sundown when Kettle paced back and forth in his house. He had been out all day looking for his boy. Unfortunately, he had to come in and rest once his knees got weak. The old kettle kept glancing at the clock on the wall and letting out sighs of worry. Almost 9 o'clock at night. The boys never stayed out that late by themselves. It was so quiet in the house that he could hear the second hand of the clock ticking. His tan body walked back and forth in front of the door. He then moved himself over to the dining room table. Books and papers littered its face. Elder Kettle thought that if he couldn't be out looking for his son, then he could be doing some research on Mug's condition. His gloved hands flipped through one of the books. He knew exactly what page he wanted to read again.

"Demons..." Kettle muttered as he stared at a page with a large picture on it. The picture showed a human with a black shadow coming out of its chest. It loomed ominously over the human's head as if it were looking down upon the organism. He flinched as he heard the door open. Kettle stared at the door with anticipation. Would it be Cuphead? Mugman? Or another friend reporting that they hadn't seen him?

Cuphead first emerged through the door. The child turned around and dragged someone else in. A blue nose inched past the door. Then the rest of the child's body followed slowly. His eyes and mouth curled down, nervous to find out if his guardian was angry.

"Mugman!" Elder Kettle beamed as tears of joy streamed down his face. His bulky frame scrambled toward the child as fast as his tired legs could carry him. Two gloved hands lifted the cup child off the ground. Glass arms squeezed Mug tightly to the tan kettle.

"I was so worried about you!" He sobbed.

"You're-you're not mad?" Mugman nervously asked. The young mug almost didn't want to hug his grandfather back. He feared that he may hurt him again. Unintentionally of course. So he kept his hands to himself.

"Mad?" Kettle questioned. The arms stopped squeezing and held the boy out where he could see him. "My boy, how could I ever be mad at you for something that wasn't your fault?"

"B-but-" Mug began to object. His eyes traveled down to the scratch mark on his grandfather's torso. He had inflicted that wound with his own hand. Even though the child did not realize it was reality at the moment, he still felt a heavy guilt inside his heart. That it was he who did it nonetheless.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"No, Mugs." The kettle replied. It actually did sting the elderly person's glass skin. But he wasn't about to tell that to Mugman. "A wound like that will heal quick." The glassware explained, knowing that the claws had not broken his exterior coating. It had merely taken off some of his coloring, causing a stinging sensation. He then placed the cup child on the ground. "Speaking of healing, I think I may have found some information about your condition."

"You have?" Both cup brothers asked optimistically.

"Yes, come and see." Kettle ushered the boys over to the table. Their attention was immediately directed to the page with the large picture on it. "It seems Mugman has a demon inside his soul. All demons originate from Hell. You know, where the Devil rules."

"Yeah, we know all too well." Cuphead replied gravely. A worried expression came over the young mug's face yet again. Elder Kettle saw this and continued with his speech.

"On the bright side, they can be expelled from a person's body."

"You mean I won't have to live with this thing for the rest of my life?" Mugman urged, hoping that was what his guardian meant. His eyes met with the kettle's gaze.

"Yes!" Kettle then cleared his throat. "That is, we have to find someone that can separate the demon from your soul."

"Who can do that?" Mug wondered aloud.

"I'm not sure...." The kettle confessed. "We will ask around tomorrow to see if anyone has any knowledge of this. But for now, we should all get some rest." Both of the boys didn't argue with that. Cuphead was tired from racing all around the island looking for his brother. Mug, on the other hand, had cried so many tears that the energy had been drained from his body.

The young mug curled up in his cozy bed. It felt so much nicer than the stone floor in the mausoleum. His blue pillow was like a fluffy cloud and sheets wrapped around him like a warm cocoon. Mug quickly drifted off to sleep. Cuphead stayed awake until he was sure his younger brother was fast asleep.