But I can't feed on the powerless (when my cup's already overfilled)

Marvel Cinematic Universe
M/M
G
But I can't feed on the powerless (when my cup's already overfilled)
author
Summary
Ulysses got thrown in jail. It has to happen sometime. After all an apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Note
Hi guys, back with another one!We already have a Peter-centric and Joe-centric stories. Now it's time for...a Ulysses-centric story! Ulysses has always been my favorite out of the three brothers. Maybe because he's the one who's most like me, personality-wise. I felt like I was writing myself, tbh Anyways, hope you guys enjoy the latest installment of the Parabola verse! Title from Hunger Strike by Temple of The Dog.

Ulysses was the best first born child any parent could ask for. Tony would like to think he and Steve were prepared for Ulysses’ birth. They read all the books on child rearing and child development, watched all the videos, heard all the unsolicited opinions well-meaning strangers gave to them about how they should raise their son. But when their first baby, still blue from hypoxia, taking in his first breaths, covered in blood and mucus and whatever gross bodily fluid that came out with him from Tony’s birth canal, was placed in Tony’s arms Tony knew that nothing could have prepared him for the onslaught of love and protectiveness that burst out of his chest and nothing in this world could ever stop him from loving this child, this new human being born out of his and Steve’s love. 

 

And he knew that Steve felt the same. While Steve didn’t have the luxury of carrying Ulysses around with him for nine months, Steve still managed to develop a very strong bond with his first born son. Being Alphas, there were some things that only Steve could understand and teach to Ulysses as he was growing up. Things like how his body would change, how society viewed them as Alphas and what was expected of them as Alphas, how society viewed the other subgenders as less than them and how untrue that was. Steve taught him that no Alpha was above the law, regardless of the privilege they enjoyed because of the patriarchal society they lived in. But most of all, Steve taught him to have integrity, fight for your values and to put the needs of others above his own, to fight and stand up for the little guys. Ulysses’ privileges and knowledge were to be used to the betterment of the average person, not to distance himself from them. 

 

Ulysses was a good son, and Steve and Tony were so, so proud of him. They couldn’t have asked for a better big brother for Joe, Peter, Aurora and Morgan. His two godfathers, who to this day still argue about which one of them was Ulysses’ namesake, adored him. Ulysses loved and respected his aunts and uncles, and the feeling’s mutual. He was their first pack baby, their beginning in becoming a real family. 

 

They raised him well. So what happened today totally blindsided them. Although in retrospect from the way Tony and Steve raised their children, and just from their distinct personalities, they should have expected something like this happening eventually. 

 


 

 

It had been two weeks since the giant revelations of Peter being Spiderman and Joe having a boyfriend, a boyfriend they have yet to meet due to scheduling conflicts, when JARVIS informed them that there was a call from an unknown number originated from Boston. They had just finished dinner. Steve took up the mantle of cook since Bruce wasn’t around, the boys and Bucky were clearing up the dinner table and washing the dishes. The rest of the family were relaxing in front of the TV, watching Jeopardy with Clint and Tony yelling out the answers whenever they knew the answer to a question. 



“Sir, there is an incoming call from an unknown number originating from Boston. Shall I put it through?” JARVIS announced to the room. 

 

They all traded confused looks at JARVIS’ words. 

 

“Who is it, J?” Tony asked his AI. 

 

“There is no encryption, Sir. And I don’t believe it’s made by any of your known enemies. I’ve managed to identify the extension as one of those registered to the Boston Police Department.”

 

“Wait, what? The cops? Why are they calling us? J, put it through.” Tony anxiously said, his thoughts going a hundred miles an hour with worry that something might have happened to Ulysses.  With a beep, JARVIS placed the call on the Tower’s speakerphone for everyone in attendance to hear. 

 

“Hello?” Tony greeted with trepidation.

 

“Hello, Babbo,” Ulysses’ voice replied to him from the other line, “It’s me, your firstborn son that you definitely love more than the other two that came after me.” Two indignant squawks from Peter and Joe in the kitchen answered him. 

 

“Uh-huh. That remains to be seen. Why are you calling from a police station?” 

 

“Of course you’d know already that I’m in the police station,” Ulysses sighed, “yeah, funny story that. You’re gonna laugh when I tell you the whole thing. Have I told you about this labor law class that I’m taking? Do you know how badly workers are exploited and how undemocratic 90% of American workplaces are--”

 

“Ulysses. Stop. Just tell us what’s going on.” Steve’s authoritative voice abruptly cut off the beginnings of what Tony assumed would be another epic rant on Ulysses’ part about wage stagnation and workers’ rights.

 

“Okay. I’m in jail and I need you guys to come and bail me out.” 

 

The living room became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Steve blinked owlishly and cocked his head to the side as if trying to understand what his son just said to him. 

 

“I’m sorry, I must have motor oil in my ears. But did you just say that you’re in jail?!” Tony shrieked, while Clint started laughing next to him. 

 

“Wow.” Sam just muttered, while Natasha just shook her head in exasperation. 

 

From the distance, he could hear Bucky laughing too. Him, Joe and Peter must have ran to the living room when they heard Ulysses told them he was in jail. 

 

“Yes, I’m in jail, Babbo. We can hash out the finer details on why that’s the case when you or Pops come down here to bail me out. I promise I have a good reason for being here.” 

 

“You damn right you have a good reason to be there. I did not went in to labor for 12 hours just for you to waste your life in jail!” 

 

Over the line, Ulysses sighed, “Fine. Are you gonna bail me out or not?”

 

“Of course I’m bailing you out! Your father and I are coming down there right now so sit tight in jail and think about what you’ve done and how you’re going to explain yourself to us!” 

 

“Believe me, Babbo. I’ve been sitting so much my ass is numb.” 

 

“And it’s going to be that way for awhile, so get used to it. I have half a mind to just leave you there for the night.” Steve grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest in annoyance. 

 

“Yes, that!” Tony pointed at him, “We should just leave you in there overnight. That ought to teach you a lesson.” 

 

“Aw, come on, Pops! Babbo!” Ulysses whined, “don’t leave me here. I think my cellmate is an Irish mobster. I don’t wanna get recruited…” 

 

“Ulysses, don’t stereotype your own people.” 

 

“Well if I can’t rip on my own people, then who can?” 

 

“He’s got a point, Stevie.” Bucky piped in. 

 

Steve sighed the long suffering sigh of someone who just wanted to be put out of his misery. Tony sympathized. This whole debacle was making his head hurt. He patted Steve’s shoulder and kissed his forehead, to which Steve shot him a grateful look. “I’m gonna get the jet prepped. Hang tight, Ulysses. Don’t participate in any initiation rites until we get there.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Ulysses grumbled. A beeping sound signified that his time was up, “Okay, my time’s up. You guys got the location, right? Right. Okay, come soon, Papa, Babbo. Before I turn to a life of crime and the next time you’ll see me I’ll be a supervillain.” 

 

“This is so not the time to be making jokes about being a criminal, boy.” 

 

“Right. My bad.” 

 

“We’re coming soon.” 

 

“‘Kay. Love you.” 

 

“Love you too.” 

 

Once Ulysses hung up the phone, the previously silent room exploded with questions and remarks, everyone eager to give their two cents in. 

 

“Oh my God, my nephew is a criminal. This is awesome!” Clint laughed out loud. 

 

“Well the apple certainly don’t fall far from the tree,” Bucky chuckled, much to Steve’s consternation. 

 

“Buck, can you please…” Steve admonished him. The superserum prevented him from getting headaches and any types of illnesses but he could feel a throbbing in the back of his head from this whole situation. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his eldest son seemed to turn out exactly like him and Steve was trying to decide whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

 

“I feel like I should ask Bucky to elaborate on that apple and tree comment, but I have a son to bail out. Babe, let’s go. The rest of you, please refrain from posting about what just happened on social media. There’s a time and place for everything and it most certainly is not now.” Tony said, eliciting a chorus of “Yes, Babbo” and “Yes, Tony” for the family gathered in the living room. 




 

 

Steve and Tony arrived at the Boston police department headquarters later that night. The staff sergeant manning the front desk seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep, and so didn’t really notice that two of the world’s most famous superheroes were standing in front of him, attempting to get some information on their son. 

 

“Good evening, Sergeant...Moretti,” Steve started, looking at the man’s name tag for his name. Tony fidgeting next to him, anxious to get this over with, “We received a phone call from our son earlier this evening. He was arrested earlier today and we’re here to pay his bail and any fines associated with it.” Steve shot the Sergeant his most polite Captain America smile. 

 

“What’s your son’s name?” Moretti sighed with disinterest, clicking around on his computer playing a game of Blackjack from what Tony could see reflected by his glasses. And losing too from the looks of it. 

 

“Ulysses Rogers.” Tony blurted out impatiently, “also you might wanna hold off on getting more card for your deck. It’s gonna be a high card number next.” 

 

Moretti flushed at being caught slacking on the job, he cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat, “Um, right. Rogers, first name Ulysses. Charged with resisting arrest and obstruction of justice.” Moretti read from the police report he pulled up on his computer. Steve and Tony exchanged alarmed looks with each other as they realized the gravity of the situation. 

 

“Sorry, what was the exact circumstance of my son’s arrest? This-- this seems out of character for him.” Steve asked. 

 

“He was arrested at a rally organized by the Harvard Student Workers Union earlier today. Apparently somebody tried to break through the picket line and a fight broke out. Your son encouraged his fellow protesters to flee the scene, which is obstruction, and made several attempts to evade the arresting officer from apprehending him.” 

 

“That’s out of character of him, alright. Wonder where he learned that from?” Tony said under his breath to Stever after Sergeant Moretti finished describing the extent of Ulysses’ crimes to them. 

 

Steve flushed red at Tony’s side comment and cleared his throat, “So, uh, how much to get him released?”  

 

“Well, on account of it being his first offense, we set it at around $5,000,” Steve’s eyes bugged out of his head when he heard the amount they have to pay for Ulysses’ release, while Tony just sighed and reached into his pocket. 

 

“Y’all take cards?” 

 

“Cash only, sir.” 

 

“I got this, Steve. Why don’t you go and check on Eugene Debs over there? Make sure he hasn’t been recruited by the Winter Hill Gang.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you to it. Officer, can I go see my son?” Moretti nodded and motioned to one of the officers working with him to escort Steve to the holding cell. 




 

 

Ulysses was in trouble. Of that he had no doubts. But the only reason he was in said trouble stemmed from his upbringing and the values Babbo and Pops instilled in him and his siblings growing up. So it could be argued, in a long convoluted way, that really, this was Babbo and Pops’ faults. 

 

He was so screwed. 

 

He never meant to get arrested, though he always knew that was a possibility. So when the fight broke out during the peaceful protest (Ulysses still maintained that someone from the Chancellor’s office sabotaged their rally, but he digressed), he knew what he had to do. 

 

He told all his friends to flee from the scene, then caused a distraction so the cops went after him instead. Ulysses would be fine in jail, his friends wouldn’t. Because the fucked up truth was that the justice system worked differently for people. It tended to be kinder for people like Ulysses, who are rich and white, and unforgiving for people like Ulysses’ fellow protesters who happened to have more melanin in their skin and didn’t have billionaire parents. 

 

He knew his parents could afford his bail money. Five thousand dollars was chump change for someone like his Babbo. He might have a record from this point onward, but the simple fact that he came from money, have the right last name and have white skin would give him better prospects later in life when it came to jobs or his financial security. 

 

It was an easy decision, really, to take the blame. It’s amazing what one can do when one was privileged enough. Ulysses never used his status as an Alpha or who his parents were to leverage any favors or gain special treatment from anybody in his life. In fact, he made it a point not to tell people he was Tony Stark and Steve Rogers’ oldest son. Rogers was a common enough last name anyway, and most people wouldn’t assume he was their son, although sometimes someone would make an off-hand comment that he looked just like Captain America when he was younger and Ulysses would just shrugged it off and said, “I get that a lot.” 

 

So here he was now, sitting in dank holding cell with four other men, one of whom smelled vaguely like urine and beer, staring at the floor and contemplating how his life would be like from here on out. 

 

Somebody cleared his throat, prompting Ulysses to look up and see his Pops standing on the other side of the jail cell with an officer. His arms were crossed and he had a look on his face that was part relieved, part worried and part resigned to the whole situation, “Hello, son. How is prison?” 

 

“Pops!” Ulysses stood up and went straight to the bars, “You’re here! Does that-- does that mean I’m free?” 

 

“Your Babbo is paying your bail money right now, and after that, yes, you’re free.” Steve answered evenly, “although that doesn’t mean you’re free from explaining to us what happened to land you in jail.” 

 

“I promise. I promise I’ll tell you guys everything you want to know, just get me out of here. I’m so hungry...” Ulysses whispered. 

 

Steve felt his lips quirked up in a small smile. In jail and his stomach was still his number one priority. Ulysses and his antics never failed to amuse him. 

 

“I oughta let you stay here to contemplate on what you’ve done wrong. You know for punishment and such.” 

 

“Aww Pops, come on! Making me skip lunch and dinner is punishment enough. You don’t want me to die from starvation Bobby Sands-style, do you?” 

 

“You’re not gonna die from missing two meals. Don’t cheapen Bobby Sands’ struggles by comparing your hunger to his fight,” Steve told Ulysses, pointing his finger at his son to emphasize his point, “Officer, if you please.” Steve motioned to the man standing next to him to unlock the jail cell. 

 

“Hey,” one of the man in the jail cell with Ulysses spoke up. He was a behemoth of a man with tattoos covering his body, “ain’t you Captain America?” he asked gruffly. 

 

“Maybe I am. What business is it of yours?” Steve answered evenly, eyeing the man up and down, trying to size him up. 

 

The man remained silent, just stepped closer to the metal bar and crossed his arms, staring resolutely at Steve. Ulysses, caught in the middle, looked between the two of them in trepidation. He just hoped Pops didn’t hurt the other guy too badly. 

 


 

 

“Babbo!” Ulysses’ voice called to him, interrupting Tony from the email he was drafting on his StarkPhone. He looked up in relief as he saw his son, looking no worse for the wear after his eight hour stint in jail. 

 

Tony hugged him close, the tightening in his chest that was there from the moment he found out his baby was in jail loosened now that he had solid proof that Ulysses was fine. His thick brown hair was in disarray and his clothing was stained with dirt. Probably from his tussle with his arresting officer and there was  light bruising on his cheek from when they held him down on the ground. Tony felt a stab of anger at how they treated his boy, but decided not to voice his displeasure. He just wanted to leave this place, get something to eat because no doubt Ulysses was starving and forget this all ever happened. If that was even possible. 

 

Are you okay?” Tony asked, “You are due for a long conversation with both Pops and me, you understand that?” at Ulysses’ nod, he continued, “Let’s get out of here. Where’s your pops?” 

 

“Umm, taking pictures with the other inmates and police officers.” Ulysses pointed back to the part of the precinct where he was previously held at, and where Tony could hear raucous voices in the back. 

 

Get him, please? I’m stressed out and I want to eat at least fifty chicken wings before the night is over.” 

 

Yeah, got it, Babbo.”  

 


 

 

They ended up at a Hooters in Saugus. Empty plates of chicken wings, mozzarella sticks and onion rings littered their table. Ulysses was happily demolishing his hamburger as Tony ate some fries and Steve nursed his beer. 

 

“So, you wanna tell us what happen?” Steve prompted his son. Ulysses looked up from his burger, chewed whatever he had in his mouth and placed the burger down on his plate. 

 

“Where should I start?” 

 

“Start from the beginning, Uly. it’s always good to start from the beginning.” Tony added, motioning for his son to start talking. 

 

“Okay, the beginning then,” Ulysses paused, seeming to mull something in his mind, “I’ve started taking graduate-level history and political science courses starting this year, so I got to know and hang out with a lot of graduate students. Did you guys know that graduate students in universities basically work for starvation wages?” he looked to his parents and seeing them paying attention to him, he continued, “For all the work that they do, they earn barely enough to cover their living costs for a month. A lot of them actually qualify for government assistance. Food stamps and the like. And several of my friends actually have applied. And received them.” Ulysses chuckled deprecatingly. 

 

“They get such ridiculously low pay, but they’re expected to go above and beyond their job descriptions. Teaching undergraduate classes while having to keep to do their own research, produce high quality publications and apply for grants and fellowships to finance them in school. All while struggling to stretch a minimum-wage income to live in a city like Cambridge.”

 

“So they have a union,” Ulysses added, “a Union that’s supposed to negotiate for better working condition, better pay and better benefits. Central to all of that is the union’s ability to do collective bargaining. With collective bargaining, the Union managed to get some decent benefits like guaranteed housing and health insurance. Union’s seeking to ask for overtime pay and a 1% salary increase per year. It’s not too much to ask from an institution with a yearly endowment of 38.3 billion dollars. But you know what they wanted instead? They wanted to end collective bargaining rights for the student workers union. That’s why I was there protesting, and that’s why I stayed and get arrested because I can afford to be arrested. I can’t stay silent and do nothing when there is injustice going on. I can protest and I have privilege but my friends don’t. You understand why I had to do it, don’t you?” 

 

Steve and Tony were silent the whole time Ulysses told his story. Ulysses nervously looked at his parents, the silence between them was unnerving him. He could tell that Pops and Babbo was thinking, digesting the information Ulysses provided him. Pops finally broke the silence when he said, “I do understand. And we’re damn proud of you, son.” 

 

“What?” Ulysses dumbly said. 

 

“We’re proud of you for wanting to do the right thing, for fighting for what you believe in, against injustice, against a broken system profiting off the backs of ordinary people.” Tony reiterated Ulysses reaching out to take his hands and gently squeezing them, “I can’t say I’m happy about you going to jail, but yeah, Pops and I are proud of you for having conviction and being brave enough to fight for them, no matter the consequences. We couldn’t have asked for a better son, polpetto.” 

 

“I always knew you loved me more than Joe and Pete.” Ulysses winked at his parents mischievously. 

 

“Don’t tell ‘em,” Steve added jokingly. 

 


 

 

Ulysses was called to meet with the President of the university after his brief stint in jail. The university was considering putting him on a leave of absence for the remainder of the semester for being involved in the protest, but Ulysses, Steve and Tony wanted to appeal that decision since all the charges against Ulysses was dropped (courtesy of an autographed photo of the whole Boston PD precinct with Captain America). 

 

“I’ll get to the point, Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers, Ulysses,” the college’s president said from behind his opulent wooden desk. The three of them were sitting in his office, Ulysses in the middle with his parents flanking him, presenting a united front, “Ulysses’ involvement with the union and his subsequent arrest by the Boston police is quite an infraction against university policies. If there’s no penalty against Ulysses’ actions, then it will look like blatant favoritism in our favor to just let him go unpunished.” 

 

“Look, we’re not saying you shouldn’t punish Ulysses,” Tony started, “but making him go on suspension for the rest of the semester, which is about 4 weeks would be detrimental to Ulysses’ academic progress. All we’re asking is for you to reconsider the duration of the suspension. The charges were dropped, and the arresting officer was very understanding about the whole situation.” 

 

The President seemed to be considering Tony’s words before saying, “I understand, Mr. Stark. I’ll be willing to shorten the duration of the suspension if Ulysses would make a written statement disavowing any involvement with the student workers’ union and withdrawing his support for their attempts to keep their collective bargaining rights.” 

 

Ulysses blanched and loudly proclaimed, “No! I am not going to do that! I happen to believe and support the union’s rights to retain collective bargaining rights. I’m not going to disavow my involvement in their fights.” 

 

“Then I’m afraid my hands are tied, gentlemen.” the President said again, “Ulysses will have to spend the remainder of the semester on a leave of absence. Of course he will still be permitted to take final exams, but without attending classes, how well do you expect you will do at those?” 

 

Steve and Tony shot the man an incredulous glance. Was he seriously trying to blackmail them? 

 

“No, you know what? You’re blackmailing me into giving up my sincere beliefs and support for the student workers’ union and I’m not gonna stand for it.” Ulysses stood up from his seat, “Matter of fact: I quit. I’m withdrawing from school, because I cannot in good conscience betray my beliefs and everything I stand for a chance to be educated by self-righteous, corrupt pricks that seem to lurk in every inch of this campus.” 

 

“Mr. Rogers, you can’t be serious,” the Dean scoffed at Ulysses. 

 

“He is. And he has our full support.” Steve stood up, the piercing gaze of his blue eyes pinned the Dean in his seat, “Frankly, Sir, after hearing you so callously encourage my son to throw his colleagues under the bus, I’m more than convinced that this is place is not where Tony and I want our son to be educated. I don’t want him to turn out to be another legacy who cares for nothing but advancing his own selfish agenda and ambitions at the expense of another’s livelihood and dignity. My son has integrity, and it ain’t thanks to this place. So good day to you. We will be submitting the resignation letter soon.” 

 

“Also, I’ll be rescinding that donation from the September Foundation, thanks very much,” Tony added, “no new library for you anytime soon. But I’m sure the Kerries or Kennedys are more than happy to build one for you. Just make sure one of their spawns get accepted in the upcoming school year. After all, you got a spot open, don’t you?” 

 


 

 

“Wow, I can’t believe I just quit school,” Ulysses muttered, “And you guys aren’t even yelling at me for it.” 

 

They were seated at a cafe in Cambridge for a respite. Soon, they’d go to Ulysses’ dorm room to clear out his stuff and head back down to New York with all of Ulysses’ stuff. Three years worth of stuff to bring back home and Ulysses wasn’t feeling any regrets from his actions earlier in the Dean’s office. 

 

In retrospect, it was the only thing worth doing. He didn’t even hesitate declaring his intent to withdraw from school. Ulysses couldn’t in good conscience turn his back on friends at the student workers’ union. He fully support their cause and while he was sad that he wouldn’t be here to help them continue in their fight, he was glad that they knew he believed in their fight for a decent working condition. And that this wasn’t some flight of fancy he took up in college. He was in this fight for life. 

 

Ulysses felt he had finally found his calling. 

 

“I think we’re just processing this, same as you,” Tony said, taking a sip of his coffee, “Give me two days and I’ll yell at you for sacrificing your future.” 

 

“But I’m not,” Ulysses interjected, “I’m not sacrificing my future, Babbo. I-- I know it might sound crazy to you, but I felt like I finally found what I want to work on for the rest of my life. Workers’ rights and fighting for social democracy in America.” 

 

“I know, Fiore. I will always, always be your number one supporter, come hell or high water. I just wished you went about it in a better way. The harsh truth is a flimsy piece of paper called a diploma still hold a lot of sway in our society. You’re gonna have to go back to school, no matter what.”

 

“I know, and in the meantime I finally know what I wanna go to school for. Learn more about advocacy and public policy and the best way to do it all.” 

 

“That’s great, baby. And we’ll be with you every step of the way. In the meantime, you come back home, reapply to school or  get a part-time job around the city to occupy your time. Or, hey, you know, you can be our live-in babysitter for your little brothers.” Tony teased him. 

 

“Oh joy,” Ulysses rolled his eyes, taking a huge gulp of his frappuccino, “I get to follow Joe around on his dates and pick Peter up from his patrols. Is he still with that kid Jamie?” 

 

“As far as I know. That reminds me: we still need to invite that kid for dinner with the family. Steve, babe, you’re awfully quiet. What’s on your mind?” Tony asked his mate, who indeed have been quiet for the whole conversation. 

 

“Just that we gave the name Joseph to the wrong son,” Steve looked wistfully at his son, a small proud smile on his face. 

 

“What? Pops, what do you mean?” 

 

“When I look at you now, you look and sound just like my father Joseph.” Steve took a deep breath and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He retrieved a picture from said wallet, a black and white enlistment photo of a man that looked like the carbon copy of Steve and Ulysses and showed it to Ulysses and Tony. 

 

“My father’s enlistment picture. Someone from the Brooklyn historical society contacted me a few months ago, said they had a rare picture of my dad and would I like to have a copy. The real picture is preserved in the Brookly museum and they were kind enough to gave me a copy. Uly, I never knew my dad. He died before I was even born, and my Ma, your grandma, only had blurred, out of focus pictures of them when they got married. So I never knew what he looked like, truly, until a few months ago. And when I saw his picture, he-- he looked just like you. Tony, you said Ulysses is a carbon copy of me, well I don’t think so,” Steve chuckled tearfully and Tony rubbed lovingly at his back and gave him an encouraging smile, “Look at this. If he’s not my dad’s twin, I don’t know who is.” 

 

“Whoa, I looked like grandpa.” Ulysses reverently stared at the picture.

 

“All I know about my dad is from stories my Ma would tell me. How he fought and stood up with the little guys. The arrests from marching in union rallies, his bravery and the wounds he got beaten up by Pinkerton Gangs, going to DC on strikes with workers and labor movements. Hearing you speak at the Dean’s office earlier today, it’s what I always imagined my Dad would sound like from the stories Ma told me.” Steve smiled at his son, a look of overwhelming pride and joy shone through his face, “So you see, Ulysses, your legacy is not just that of scientific discovery and industrial revolution from your Babbo’s side of the family. It’s also a legacy of labor movements, fighting for social democracy, for social justice for everyone. And I couldn’t be prouder that you arrived here on your own. And that you considered it your calling.” 

 

“Thanks, Pop.” Ulysses felt his voice shook. He never knew this about his grandpa Joe. he was glad he did now. Everything meant more to him now that he knew that this was his family’s legacy, one of his grandfather’s life’s work. It started with him, and now continued by Pops and Ulysses. And he was going to continue to fight for it, no matter what. 

 

Babbo was giving Pops what he and his brothers called “the Look of Love”. If they weren’t in public, and people were starting to recognize them, Ulysses was sure that his parents would be making out right now. It was nice to see them still going strong after all these years and the emotional roller coaster Ulysses and his brothers just put them through for the last few weeks only brought them closer together as a family, instead of drifting apart. 

 

Ulysses was lucky. He had the best family in the universe, bar none.