Mission Log: Baby Hughes Recovery Ops
Mission 6: The Road to Forgiveness
new notification: luke hughes has texted the Mission Control group chat
Luke
Melody had been curled into the corner of the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, legs across Ethan’s lap the glow of the TV flickering across her face.
She didn’t notice the shuffle in the doorway until Mackie’s booming voice announced, “Special delivery!” He carried in two cones stacked high, grinning ear to ear.
And behind him, quieter, Luke followed with a single scoop balanced carefully in his hand. Cookies and Cream. Her favorite.
Her chest squeezed painfully. He remembered. He always remembered. He should remember it, he is her twin after all.
“Here,” Luke said softly, holding it out. His voice was cautious, almost… afraid.
Melody didn’t reach for it. She blinked at the screen, forcing her voice steady. “I’m not hungry.”
The silence afterward pressed heavy. Mackie tried to laugh it off, muttering something about eating it himself, but the way Luke’s arm dropped to his side, cone still untouched, was deafening.
The ice cream was left untouched in the freezer.
Phase One: failure.
Now it was Dylan who coaxed her this time. “C’mon, Mel, you love chirping us at practice. It’s free entertainment.”
She rolled her eyes, but eventually relented. The rink had always been a safe place, a Hughes place, her place.
But the second her sneakers hit the bleachers and she glanced toward center ice—her stomach dropped.
Luke was there. Skating lazy laps, helmet tucked under his arm. His strides looked different—tentative, like he was waiting. For her.
Her throat burned.
Her legs moved before her brain caught up.
“I’m not doing this,” she muttered, shoving her hood up and turning toward the exit.
Dylan called after her, voice cracking with guilt, but she didn’t stop. And Luke watched her leave, his heart breaking. This was the longest time the Hughes Twins have gone without talking to each other.
Phase Two: disaster.
Melody
They went all out this time. Blankets draped from every chair, pillows piled high, fairy lights twinkling. A mountain of snacks covered the table—Twizzlers, popcorn, Sour Patch Kids, all her favorites.
Adam tugged her wrist gently, guiding her toward the living room. “Surprise,” he said with a crooked smile.
Her lips twitched upward despite herself. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Only for you,” Luca teased. “And Tangled’s queued. Front row seat reserved.”
For a second, she let herself feel it—warmth, home, love. Maybe she could forget everything for one night.
But then she ducked through the blanket doorway and saw him.
Luke. Sitting right in the center, surrounded by pillows. A spot left empty at his side.
Her heart plummeted.
The realization hit like a slap.
The cones. The rink. The fort. They weren’t coincidences. They were phases, just like the missions.
Her chest went tight. “Not if he’s here,” she muttered, voice breaking despite her best efforts.
The room froze. No one moved. The fairy lights suddenly felt too bright.
Luke’s face fell in a way that made her stomach churn, but she couldn’t stay. Couldn’t breathe. She spun on her heel and left.
Phase Three: dead.
And this time, she knew exactly what they’d been trying to do.
Luke
The blanket fort still sagged in the living room, fairy lights blinking weakly as if ashamed of their own glow. Nobody said a word when Melody stormed out. Nobody dared.
Luke sat frozen in the middle of the nest they’d built, staring at the empty spot she was supposed to fill. His chest ached with every breath. It was supposed to work. It had to work.
But all it did was remind her that he’d failed her when it mattered most.
That night, when the others finally gave up and went to their dorms or homes, Luke stayed awake. He watched her door from the end of the hallway, hands buried in his hair, heart thudding like he was 10 years old again and had just broken something he couldn’t fix.
At some point, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He pushed himself up and padded down the hall. His knuckles hovered near her door before he finally pressed inside.
Melody
She was curled on her bed, fairy lights glowing faintly above her desk, knees hugged to her chest. Her hoodie sleeves were damp, and her eyes were swollen.
When the door creaked, she stiffened. “Get out.”
Luke swallowed, his voice barely audible. “Mel… please.”
“I said get out.” Her tone cracked, sharp, but not strong enough to hide the pain underneath.
He closed the door anyway and leaned against it like he was barricading himself inside. “No. Not this time. I’m not leaving you alone again.”
Her laugh was bitter, choked. “Funny, considering that’s all you’ve done.”
Luke flinched like the words were physical blows. He crossed the room slowly, careful not to spook her, and lowered himself onto the floor in front of her bed. For a long moment, he just looked at her. His baby sister. Broken. And he had let it happen.
“Because you didn’t let me Melody! I should’ve protected you I know,” he said, voice raw. “That’s my job. Not just as your brother, but as your twin. And I didn’t. I saw things I should’ve questioned. I saw him, and I didn’t—” His throat closed. “I let you get hurt.”
Melody’s nails dug into her sleeves. Her voice trembled, but the fury burned under it. “You watched me love him, Luke. I gave him everything. And when he ruined me—you weren’t there. You’re supposed to be the one who never leaves. The one who keeps me safe. And you didn’t.”
Her chest heaved with the sob she tried to swallow down. “I hate you. I hate you for letting me feel like this.”
Luke’s eyes blurred. He shifted closer, sitting on his knees, head bowed like he was begging forgiveness. “I know,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I know you hate me. And I deserve it. Hit me. Scream at me. Whatever you need.”
Her fists balled tight, and then she swung. Weak, broken hits against his chest. Over and over, fueled by hurt that had nowhere else to go.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”
He didn’t move. Didn’t stop her. He just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him, tucking her head under his chin. His chest shook with silent tears, but his hands were steady—one rubbing circles on her back, the other threading through her hair like he had when she was little and scared of storms.
“I know,” he murmured again, breath hot against her hairline. “I know, Song. Hate me if you have to. I’ll take it. I’ll take all of it, as long as you’re still here.”
Her hands fisted in his shirt, her anger collapsing into sobs. “I hate him, Lu,” she gasped finally, voice muffled against his chest. “God, I hate him so much.”
Luke’s own tears slipped free, wetting her hair. His grip tightened, protective, unbreakable. “I know, baby. I know. But you’re not ruined. You’re still you. And I’m not going anywhere ever again.”
He held her through every ragged sob, rocking her gently like she was a kid again, like he could shield her from every bad thing in the world if he just held on tight enough.
For the first time since it all shattered, Melody let herself sink into her brother’s arms.
And for the first time since he failed her, Luke swore he’d never let go.
Mission 6 - Success
read on here
mission one
mission two
mission three
mission four
mission five
mission seven













