History
Hugo Luis Fernandez was born in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Bushwick to two Puerto Rican immigrants. Although Elena's pregnancy had been unplanned, both she and her husband Salvador were overjoyed to have a happy, healthy boy – just like they had prayed for. Hugo's mother was the primary caretaker of their new son, a dutiful housewife, while her husband worked in the autorepair garage he'd just opened back in Manhattan. The commute and the work meant that Salvador was not around often when Hugo was an infant, but Elena showered her son with as much as love and affection as she could manage. Despite the fact that they lived an area well-known for its high rates of violent crime and drugs, she and Salvador decided to make it their mission to offer their new child, and the many more they planned to have, as happy and secure a life as possible.
Hugo was a quiet toddler. He was shy around strangers, with a tendency to cling to his mother's skirts whenever someone besides his father was in the house, and even then Hugo seemed a bit fearful of Salvador’s presence. His father was a massively-built giant who stomped around the house laughing raucously at pretty much everything, occasionally rampaging in the kitchen as he helped his mother prepare breakfast, and then disappearing for the better part of a day with seemingly no rhyme or reason. He returned long after Hugo had been put to bed at night and so for the early years of Hugo's life he had little interaction with Salvador, and he silently tolerated the man's affection more because he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't rather than a genuine love for his father.
Not long after Hugo turned three, his mother gave birth to another son: Gustavo. Hugo remembers little of his younger brother as an infant, but his mother tells some pretty amazing stories. Apparently, even as a toddler, Hugo took his duty as an older brother very seriously. He'd often be found out of his bed at night and standing next to his brother's crib, peeking in on him to make sure he was still alive and breathing. Guss was a quiet infant who spent the majority of his time sleeping, much to his parent's relief. Hugo, for his part, was as well-behaved as ever. He seemed more open to his father and had even started answering his questions when Salvador spoke to him in the mornings. – an improvement over his shy nods and head shakes a year prior.
Life continued quietly for the Fernandez family. Salvador was still gone frequently, and Elena found herself somewhat stressed dealing with the amount of scraped knees, strange bruises, and runny noses two young boys tend to accrue. Still, she managed the family to the best of her ability almost completely on her own while Salvador worked at his garage, which was increasingly finding some traction in the market. By the time Hugo was four Salvador was able to afford to bring in some assistants, and thus was able to spend more time at home. He started coming home earlier, much to Elena's relief, and would sometimes prepare dinner for the family while he insisted Elena take a nap or relax in the bath. Hugo, now old enough to realize that big didn't necessarily mean bad, enjoyed his father's company. He'd often sit at the kitchen table and pepper his father with questions about work, or what life was like back in Puerto Rico, and did he always want to be a mechanic, because Hugo wanted to grow up to be a helicopter or maybe a farmer, and on and on and on. Salvador, for his part, seemed overjoyed that his eldest son seemed to be so fond of him now.
It was also around this time that Salvador began to teach his son what was right and what was wrong. This was a very important lesson, and Hugo paid rapt attention as Salvador would quote him Bible passages or tell his son parables to help teach him proper morals. Helping and defending those smaller than you or people in need? That was the Right Thing. Threatening to punch another boy over a disagreement on whose turn it was in the sandbox? That was the Wrong Thing. Hugo's ethical code developed fairly early on in life as a result, and his world became increasingly black and white. His father told him to do the Right Thing, so Hugo strived to do as his father wished. "Be like Superman," his father insisted, knowing his son liked the old superhero films. But Superman, in Hugo's young eyes, translated into his father.
When he was of age, Hugo was placed into a nearby kindergarten. The sudden separation from his mother's kitchen and the warmth and security of his home terrified Hugo, although he did what he believed was the Right Thing and refused to cry or throw a tantrum over it, like the other children did. He handled his anxiety differently: he just became silent. Teachers could barely coax his name out of him, and Hugo absolutely refused to speak unless he was forced to. At playtime he would separate himself from the other children, not really knowing how to properly interact with them, and he never raised his hand during lessons. There was another reason for his shyness as well: despite his very earnest attempts at being a good student, Hugo was having a lot of trouble in class. English was not his native tongue, and simple tasks such as learning the alphabet were exceedingly difficult for him. While his slow progress was somewhat alarming to his teachers, it wasn’t anything they felt was serious enough to warrant evaluation. Most of them assumed that Hugo was, frankly, just not as bright as the other students.
Hugo continued to struggle in school as he got older. Things that previously appeared to be childhood quirks - using improper grammar when speaking, his continuing struggle in learning English - were becoming increasingly worrisome because they were persisting. Unfortunately, the schools Hugo attended were ill-equipped and underfunded, and the idea of a learning disabled child essentially meant time spent doing remedial coursework rather than a proper investigation as to why Hugo was having so much trouble. Hugo dutifully continued to do his assignments to the best of his ability, unable to shake the idea that there was something wrong about him that the other children, who seemed smarter, didn’t have. He felt stupid, even as a young boy, and it only made him withdraw from the other students more - and it didn’t help that they knew something was wrong with him, and that it made Hugo an easy target for mockery.
As Hugo barely scraped his way into second grade, Elena gave birth to the twins. Hugo was overjoyed to have new siblings. He developed a particular fondness for Rosie, since she was his first sister, and because she was significantly less fussy than Jorge was. One of his earliest, fondest memories is holding baby Rosie in his arms, with his parents standing nearby - just in case. Hugo loved Guss, but he was too young when his brother was born to remember him as a helpless infant. It was different with the twins: they were so small and delicate, and it awoke a fierce, protective instinct in Hugo that has yet to abate. These were his little brother and sister, and he would always work hard to do the Right Thing for them. Guss, for his part, seemed less happy to have a new brother and sister to battle for attention with.
School was a continuing battle that Hugo felt like he was losing. The only place Hugo felt he could escape the horrors of the classroom was home. In his own house, surrounded by his loving family, Hugo felt at ease. No one judged him for being unable to read books properly, no one cared that his English wasn’t perfect - or even that his Spanish wasn’t spot on. Home meant seeing the newborn twins, all crumpled and tiny, in their cribs. Home was where he could wrestle with Guss, where he could “help” his mother cook by grabbing bowls and spoons, even if she didn’t need them. Home was where his father returned to each evening, where he happily scooped his children up in his giant bear arms, and gave them piggy backs whenever they demanded it. Home was a safe place where Hugo didn’t feel stupid. It was safe to talk there, and whatever words or thoughts Hugo had been saving up all morning while trapped in the classroom poured out of him like a dam broken, and no one cared if they were foolish or if he was wrong.
However, new siblings meant money was even tighter, even with Salvador’s garage doing moderately well. Elena offered to find work but Salvador refused to allow it, believing that Elena’s place was at home taking care of their four children. The family managed but it did mean having to go without a lot of the time; clothing was usually bought second-hand, Christmas presents were almost always home made. This seemed to upset young Guss far more than it bothered Hugo, who didn’t really seem to care if Santa Claus didn’t bring him a Super Nintendo for Christmas. As Guss entered kindergarten he became increasingly temperamental and sulky, and Hugo began to hear the phrase “be more like your older brother!” thrown around more often. Guss, even at his young age, resented the fact that he was so often compared to his older “perfect” brother despite the fact that Hugo was clearly not nearly as proficient with his alphabet as Guss was, even with his extra few years of schooling. Suffice it to say, it set something of a negative tone for their relationship in the years to come.
Time passed for the Fernandez family. Hugo managed to learn his letters properly and began to read, write, and speak English with more confidence - his performance was far from perfect, but it was enough to move up to middle school. At eleven-years-old and partway through 6th grade, the Fernandez family grew once more: a second daughter, pretty little Anabel. Immediately nicknamed “Bella” by the family, Hugo took to caring for his newest sibling like a fish takes to water. He was fairly experienced at this point at feeding and changing an infant from caring for the twins, although Elena insisted on supervising whenever Hugo cared for his baby sister. However, with their family now seven members strong, the Fernandez family realized that their current home wasn’t large enough to accommodate their large family. They moved to another, slightly larger house in Bushwick - they couldn’t yet afford to leave the neighborhood, and having the funds to move to another home was already enough of a stretch.
Hugo and his siblings still went to the same school since they hadn’t moved all that far. The children grew and while Hugo was never anywhere close to being a good student, he never did bad enough to actually fail. At this point he had essentially stopped trying, having figured out a long time ago that he simply was not as bright as the other students in his grade. While he listened to the teachers and behaved well in class, the fact of the matter was that he was stupid and nothing was going to change his mind about it. It was a sentiment he generally kept to himself, although he sometimes heard other students snicker about it in class when he couldn’t properly do a math problem on the board, or when he was called out to explain why he didn’t bother turning in a book report. It made him feel inferior and humiliated, but he was less angry at his peers and more disappointed in himself. After all, it was a personal failing that he couldn’t do the work properly - not the other student’s fault. So he quietly tolerated whatever jibes were directed at him, not really speaking to anyone in class save a select few people. Even then, they weren’t friends: more just people he knew well enough to sit next to during lunch, so that he wasn’t a complete social outcast. Friendliness did not come easily to Hugo to begin with, who was generally bristly with anyone he wasn’t directly related to.
Since Hugo rarely socialized with any of his peers, his interactions with others were generally limited to his family and the hours that he spent in his father’s garage. As soon as he was old enough to find the subway on his own Hugo zipped over to Salvador’s shop after school almost every day. His mother was furious that her young son was taking the subway on his own (it was pretty dangerous) but no amount of threats or punishment could deter young Hugo from heading to his father’s garage each day, and eventually poor Elena gave up trying. Besides, Hugo seemed truly happy during each visit: not only did it provide Hugo a means of spending more time with his father -- a man he still idolized -- but it also gave him an excuse to “forget” to do his homework. Generally Hugo’s visits were spent hovering over Sal’s shoulder, watching him as he worked and badgering his father with questions about what he was doing, why he was doing it, how this tool worked and what did that weird gear thingie do; Salvador always said it was the most he ever heard his son speak in a single sitting. After a while Hugo had picked up enough knowledge to occasionally do some of the easier tasks himself, and became something of a junior assistant in his father’s garage. Salvador, for his part, seemed delighted that Hugo had taken an interest in the family business. And that he was so adept at it! Hugo had an innate ability for understanding cars and their inner workings, and for the first time in his life actually the young boy actually felt like he was good at something for a change. Cars made sense in a way that words and sums simply didn’t. Hugo was far more likely to pick up a repair manual than he was a textbook, even if it still made for some tricky reading -- at least they usually had pictures that illustrated most of the steps!
And Hugo’s admiration for his father wasn’t limited only to his garage. Salvador was known in the neighborhood as everyone’s “go to” guy. Needed a little cash to make your month’s rent? Sal scrimped up what he could and handed it over. He helped organize community events, like block parties, or church fundraisers. He’d give people who were desperate to turn their lives around work at his shop, at least until they managed to get back on their feet. Everyone knew that Salvador would literally give you the shirt off his back if he could: he loved everyone and everything, and seemed to genuinely want to make their impoverished community a better place. Hugo even got used to getting discounts and favors from the grocer and other people, since he was “Salvador’s boy”. His father’s larger than life personality and his generosity were practically the stuff of myth to his son, who wanted nothing more than to be as good a person as his father was.
It wasn’t until Hugo was in 8th grade that a teacher seemed to finally took a vested interest in figuring out why Hugo had such difficulty with learning. Rather than just dismissing him as stupid, Mrs. Valencia (Hugo’s English teacher) instead contacted Hugo’s parents and explained that she believed their son might actually be dyslexic, which would explain his difficulty with reading and math. She suggested a specialist to take Hugo to for a proper diagnosis and offered to assist the Fernandez family in any way she could. Initially, Hugo was reluctant to see the specialist: as far as he was concerned, it was worse to have something actually mentally wrong with himself than to just be stupid. Eventually his parents managed to coax him into seeing the specialist, and after a battery of tests it did indeed become evident that Hugo suffered from a moderate case of dyslexia. There wasn’t much the family could do for Hugo: he was already in primarily remedial courses, and it wasn’t like the school had a separate curriculum set aside for dyslexic students. Still, the family hoped that some teachers could be persuaded to cut Hugo a little slack and thus make it a little easier for him to pass his classes. As it was, he was perilously close to having to repeat 8th grade.
The diagnosis did make school life easier, but Hugo wasn’t happy with it. It was as he had suspected for years: there was something wrong with him that made him inferior to all other students. Simply being stupid had less of a stigma attached to it, and Hugo didn’t like the idea of having to be treated differently from the other kids because he was learning disabled. Just the word “disabled” made him feel awful. Still, what was done was done. Hugo had to make the best of a lousy situation, because that was the Right Thing to do. Still, it was hard not to feel angry sometimes - Guss was doing very well in school, and had blossomed into something of a social butterfly, while Hugo struggled along without any real friends. He envied his younger brother who seemed to be so much brighter and happier. Even the twins seemed to be having an easier go of things! Hugo’s mother and father insisted that he shouldn’t be mad, that he should be happy for his siblings, but Hugo found it awfully hard not to sulk.
And sulkiness characterized a good part of Hugo’s next few years. He graduated middle school and made his way to high school, intent on making something of a new start. After all, this was a bigger school, full of students who would have no idea who he was. He decided it was time to stop being the dumb, quiet kid in class and instead be something else: the tough guy. And so Hugo took to sitting in the back of the class, wordlessly brooding and glowering down anyone who tried to engage him in friendly conversation. It was hard to be intimidating at thirteen-years-old, but it helped that Hugo hit his growth spurt pretty early and never seemed to stop growing all throughout high school: by age fifteen he was already well on his way to six feet. Homework became something he simply didn’t bother with, and more often than not Hugo skipped classes to stand behind the school with all the other “rebellious” kids and smoke cigarettes by the dumpsters. He even stopped showing up at Sal’s garage, as needless to say his father didn’t exactly approve of Hugo’s new circle of friends and the behaviors he came to associate with them. In fact, Hugo began to avoid his family almost entirely as high school went on.
Hugo’s antics only grew more and more dire as high school progressed. In a desperate attempt to prove himself as the resident new badass in school, Hugo started a campaign of minor lawlessness that he still regrets to this day. Some shoplifting, dangerous drinking, stealing things out of other kid’s knapsacks -- everything a teenage rebel was expected to do. Combined with the hormones, an excessive amount of misplaced anger, and a sudden desire to completely change everything about himself, Hugo soon became a young thug. By fourteen he had some loose affiliations with the Brooklyn tribe of the Latin Kings, a group he’d become acquainted with through a friend’s older brother. At first Hugo was incapable of completely shutting off the moral compass his father had instilled in him much as he tried, so his work for them was mostly limited to muling and selling drugs, nicking the occasional car radio, or tagging walls with graffiti associated with the gang. Once the Latin Kings realized that Hugo had a knack for cars they put him to work in a chop shop disassembling stolen vehicles for their parts. Hugo was good at it. He made surprisingly decent cash working there, too. It only reinforced the idea in his mind that this was what he was supposed to be doing.
Unsurprisingly, Hugo’s parents grew increasingly concerned about their child’s sudden change in behavior. He’d always been a dutiful son, respectful down to his very core. Now? He was rarely ever home, and when he actually bothered to turn up it was generally to argue with his father for “lecturing.” He stole some of his mother’s jewelry and pawned it for a fistful of cash, he yelled, he slammed doors. Even though Hugo had stopped showing up at Sal’s garage after school, he always came home covered in oil and grime from cars. He got into fights with other students -- when he even bothered to turn up at school -- that were often incredibly violent. It was frankly a miracle that no one ever pressed charges, although that might’ve had more to do with Sal’s positive influence and reputation in the neighborhood than anything else. Suspensions and threats of expulsions were bandied about to little effect. It was obvious that Hugo was heading down a wrong path, but Elena and Salvador had no idea what to do. Hugo resisted all their attempts to help and guide him until he finally just left home, a few days after his sixteenth birthday, to go live with his friend Angel and his older brother. No parents meant no rules and no stupid guilt trips, right? He didn’t need anyone dragging him down, and that was all his family did. At least that was what Hugo figured as he packed the few things he had and shut the door on his family for what he assumed was forever. He left them a scribbled note not to try and find him, and although the family learned of his whereabouts through the grapevine, Sal told Elena to give the boy his space for a few months and let him come to his own conclusions.
Three months later and Hugo was living in a tiny apartment with Angel and his brother Eddy, still working in a chop shop for the Latin Kings. Thing had taken a turn for the worse: Eddy was a notorious junkie and generally surrounded himself with company that made even Hugo nervous, and he’d even allowed himself to try a few things more potent than pot. The gang was pressuring him to commit more fully to being a member, something that his instincts practically screamed was a bad idea, but Hugo was angry -- so incredibly angry -- and far too stubborn to even consider returning home as an option. He was a Tough Guy doing the Wrong Thing, and for the first time in his life no one dared to say anything bad about him. He had friends (kind of) who respected him. Hell, they were almost like a surrogate family. It seemed as if Hugo was officially settling into the gang banger lifestyle. He thought nothing would ever make him go back to his home or his family.
Until his father was shot six times in the chest while trying to defuse a robbery in a convenience store he happened to be browsing in.
Hugo first learned of his father’s murder when Guss came to his apartment and told him. Apparently, Salvador had died en route to the hospital. None of them had even had the chance to say goodbye. To this day Hugo still doesn’t remember much about the night he returned home, except holding his mother for hours while she sobbed. Almost overnight, Hugo gave up every single vice he’d picked up over the past few years: threw out all his smokes, his pipe, poured out his booze and flushed down the hard stuff. He never went back to that apartment, or back to the chop shop, or even back to school. Hugo had his mother sign a waiver withdrawing him from high school and he legally dropped out. (To this day he hasn’t even received his GED -- it’s something of a sore spot, and not something he’s particularly proud of.) With his father gone, Hugo had no choice but to step up as man of the house. He made the arrangements for his father’s funeral, handled the police inquiries. They never caught the thief who murdered his father, but the officers reassured Hugo that his father had died a hero -- but Hugo had always known his father was Superman. That was hardly a revelation to him.
Hugo was literally wracked with guilt for his behavior over the past few years. He’d forgotten everything his father had taught him: all the important lessons, the morals, the ethics, the Right and Wrong. He was convinced his father had died ashamed of his eldest son, and as far as he was concerned Hugo deserved it. What had he done except disappoint his father? It nearly broke a part of him. Hugo had always been adamant between the difference between Right and Wrong when he was younger, but his sense of morality went into overdrive after Salvador’s murder. He had to make up for all the terrible things he’d done somehow, starting with his family. Sal’s garage had been closed after his death, but Hugo knew the Right Thing to do would be to reopen it. He knew nearly enough about cars as his old man had, and Sammy had always handled the books anyway. The family needed money and he was the only one in a position to earn it, and so Hugo set to work. He commuted, just like his father had, to Salvador’s Garage in Manhattan every day. All the shop’s assistants had known Hugo for years, and it was surprisingly easy to slip into a position of authority over them. Hugo learned the rhythm of the business quick, and soon enough running the shop became complete second nature to him. He actually enjoyed it, despite the tragic circumstances surrounding his starting there.
Hugo’s family slowly began to knit back together as well. Salvador Jr. was born shortly after his father’s death, and somehow having a new life to care for seemed to comfort Elena and Hugo both. But by age eighteen Hugo decided it was time to strike out on his own. Hugo wanted nothing more than to support his family, of course, but the prospect of sharing a bedroom with his two younger brothers his entire life was too grim for him to stomach. So he found a tiny place in a shitty Manhattan neighborhood and decided to rent it, much to his mother’s dismay. Elena didn’t feel she was ready to lose both her husband and her son, but Hugo promised to visit every week -- a promise he still keeps to this day. Elena found a job to keep herself busy as well, and between her income and the money Hugo always sent the family was able to keep themselves afloat. Things gradually progressed back into some semblance of normalcy.
Life continued in a quiet pattern for Hugo. He worked in the shop every morning -- weekends were a luxury he couldn’t afford, quite literally -- and spent his nights alone in his apartment, eating frozen dinners he’d only bother to half microwave. His apartment felt lonely, though, and Hugo took to feeding the alley cats that liked to hang out underneath his building’s fire escape as a means of finding a little companionship. One of them eventually ended up following him back to his apartment, intrigued by the prospect of more tuna, and Hugo didn’t have the heart to kick the poor thing out. He creatively dubbed his new roommate “Cat” but Rosita protested upon visiting him in his apartment, and insisted his name was Mr. Wiggles. For his part, the cat seemed rather ambivalent towards either name.
Despite his new adult responsibilities and lifestyle, Hugo was still plenty prone to doing stupid things. He was determined be as good and brave a man as his late father, a man he continued to idolize -- and that sometimes got him into trouble. Mostly, Hugo dabbled in a little light vigilantism. Nothing too amazing, but if he saw someone doing something wrong he refused to be silent. He knew the signs of a stupid kid shoplifting, for example, and wasn’t afraid to grab a misled youth by the collar and give them the most pants-wettingest glare he could muster. He even foiled a few robberies in his neighborhood, including an attempted mugging at knife point of a Mr. Liam Kelly. Liam insisted on buying him a drink afterwards, and through sheer relentless willpower and an immunity to unenthused mumbling, he managed to convince Hugo to join him at a bar. For the first time in years, Hugo actually let loose a little and had fun. Remarkably, Liam liked Hugo enough to pursue an actual friendship with his new acquaintance. It was a good thing, too -- Hugo was practically working himself into a stupor, and Liam (aka Red, as he soon became known) helped to balance the mechanic out some.
After adopting Mr. Wiggles, Hugo took to fostering other animals from the shelter when he could. He’d always loved animals as a child but his family’s home had been too small as it was. The fact of the matter was they simply couldn’t afford a dog or cat. But Hugo loved nothing more than being needed, and helping the helpless was one of the few joys in life he had not directly related to work or his family. He was also prone to picking up strays and bringing them to the shelter, or even forcing Sammy to use that silly Word thing and make some “ADOPT ME” posters that he could stick in the garage. It still came as a surprise, however, when Hugo recently found what appeared to be a tiny Yorkie shivering on his welcome mat. That, however, was a relatively minor shock compared to the fact that the Yorkie could talk.
Hugo attributed this strange conversation to the fact that he was fairly drunk when it happened, but when next morning’s hangover rolled around and there was a tiny dog yapping at him to “AWAKEN YOUR POWER, YOU STUPID HUMAN” things became a little more confused. Eventually Hugo learned that this tiny dog was in fact Fenrir, some sort of wolf creature he’d never even heard of, and that he was the embodiment of the Norse god Tyr. It was, apparently, a good thing that Hugo had already decided to take this day off from work. A copious amount of coffee later, Fenrir gave Hugo a small amulet that would serve as his transformation relic and -- well, the rest is history. Recent history, in fact. Hugo is a newly awakened senshi, burdened with most glorious purpose. Who knows how things will turn out?
Hugo was a quiet toddler. He was shy around strangers, with a tendency to cling to his mother's skirts whenever someone besides his father was in the house, and even then Hugo seemed a bit fearful of Salvador’s presence. His father was a massively-built giant who stomped around the house laughing raucously at pretty much everything, occasionally rampaging in the kitchen as he helped his mother prepare breakfast, and then disappearing for the better part of a day with seemingly no rhyme or reason. He returned long after Hugo had been put to bed at night and so for the early years of Hugo's life he had little interaction with Salvador, and he silently tolerated the man's affection more because he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't rather than a genuine love for his father.
Not long after Hugo turned three, his mother gave birth to another son: Gustavo. Hugo remembers little of his younger brother as an infant, but his mother tells some pretty amazing stories. Apparently, even as a toddler, Hugo took his duty as an older brother very seriously. He'd often be found out of his bed at night and standing next to his brother's crib, peeking in on him to make sure he was still alive and breathing. Guss was a quiet infant who spent the majority of his time sleeping, much to his parent's relief. Hugo, for his part, was as well-behaved as ever. He seemed more open to his father and had even started answering his questions when Salvador spoke to him in the mornings. – an improvement over his shy nods and head shakes a year prior.
Life continued quietly for the Fernandez family. Salvador was still gone frequently, and Elena found herself somewhat stressed dealing with the amount of scraped knees, strange bruises, and runny noses two young boys tend to accrue. Still, she managed the family to the best of her ability almost completely on her own while Salvador worked at his garage, which was increasingly finding some traction in the market. By the time Hugo was four Salvador was able to afford to bring in some assistants, and thus was able to spend more time at home. He started coming home earlier, much to Elena's relief, and would sometimes prepare dinner for the family while he insisted Elena take a nap or relax in the bath. Hugo, now old enough to realize that big didn't necessarily mean bad, enjoyed his father's company. He'd often sit at the kitchen table and pepper his father with questions about work, or what life was like back in Puerto Rico, and did he always want to be a mechanic, because Hugo wanted to grow up to be a helicopter or maybe a farmer, and on and on and on. Salvador, for his part, seemed overjoyed that his eldest son seemed to be so fond of him now.
It was also around this time that Salvador began to teach his son what was right and what was wrong. This was a very important lesson, and Hugo paid rapt attention as Salvador would quote him Bible passages or tell his son parables to help teach him proper morals. Helping and defending those smaller than you or people in need? That was the Right Thing. Threatening to punch another boy over a disagreement on whose turn it was in the sandbox? That was the Wrong Thing. Hugo's ethical code developed fairly early on in life as a result, and his world became increasingly black and white. His father told him to do the Right Thing, so Hugo strived to do as his father wished. "Be like Superman," his father insisted, knowing his son liked the old superhero films. But Superman, in Hugo's young eyes, translated into his father.
When he was of age, Hugo was placed into a nearby kindergarten. The sudden separation from his mother's kitchen and the warmth and security of his home terrified Hugo, although he did what he believed was the Right Thing and refused to cry or throw a tantrum over it, like the other children did. He handled his anxiety differently: he just became silent. Teachers could barely coax his name out of him, and Hugo absolutely refused to speak unless he was forced to. At playtime he would separate himself from the other children, not really knowing how to properly interact with them, and he never raised his hand during lessons. There was another reason for his shyness as well: despite his very earnest attempts at being a good student, Hugo was having a lot of trouble in class. English was not his native tongue, and simple tasks such as learning the alphabet were exceedingly difficult for him. While his slow progress was somewhat alarming to his teachers, it wasn’t anything they felt was serious enough to warrant evaluation. Most of them assumed that Hugo was, frankly, just not as bright as the other students.
Hugo continued to struggle in school as he got older. Things that previously appeared to be childhood quirks - using improper grammar when speaking, his continuing struggle in learning English - were becoming increasingly worrisome because they were persisting. Unfortunately, the schools Hugo attended were ill-equipped and underfunded, and the idea of a learning disabled child essentially meant time spent doing remedial coursework rather than a proper investigation as to why Hugo was having so much trouble. Hugo dutifully continued to do his assignments to the best of his ability, unable to shake the idea that there was something wrong about him that the other children, who seemed smarter, didn’t have. He felt stupid, even as a young boy, and it only made him withdraw from the other students more - and it didn’t help that they knew something was wrong with him, and that it made Hugo an easy target for mockery.
As Hugo barely scraped his way into second grade, Elena gave birth to the twins. Hugo was overjoyed to have new siblings. He developed a particular fondness for Rosie, since she was his first sister, and because she was significantly less fussy than Jorge was. One of his earliest, fondest memories is holding baby Rosie in his arms, with his parents standing nearby - just in case. Hugo loved Guss, but he was too young when his brother was born to remember him as a helpless infant. It was different with the twins: they were so small and delicate, and it awoke a fierce, protective instinct in Hugo that has yet to abate. These were his little brother and sister, and he would always work hard to do the Right Thing for them. Guss, for his part, seemed less happy to have a new brother and sister to battle for attention with.
School was a continuing battle that Hugo felt like he was losing. The only place Hugo felt he could escape the horrors of the classroom was home. In his own house, surrounded by his loving family, Hugo felt at ease. No one judged him for being unable to read books properly, no one cared that his English wasn’t perfect - or even that his Spanish wasn’t spot on. Home meant seeing the newborn twins, all crumpled and tiny, in their cribs. Home was where he could wrestle with Guss, where he could “help” his mother cook by grabbing bowls and spoons, even if she didn’t need them. Home was where his father returned to each evening, where he happily scooped his children up in his giant bear arms, and gave them piggy backs whenever they demanded it. Home was a safe place where Hugo didn’t feel stupid. It was safe to talk there, and whatever words or thoughts Hugo had been saving up all morning while trapped in the classroom poured out of him like a dam broken, and no one cared if they were foolish or if he was wrong.
However, new siblings meant money was even tighter, even with Salvador’s garage doing moderately well. Elena offered to find work but Salvador refused to allow it, believing that Elena’s place was at home taking care of their four children. The family managed but it did mean having to go without a lot of the time; clothing was usually bought second-hand, Christmas presents were almost always home made. This seemed to upset young Guss far more than it bothered Hugo, who didn’t really seem to care if Santa Claus didn’t bring him a Super Nintendo for Christmas. As Guss entered kindergarten he became increasingly temperamental and sulky, and Hugo began to hear the phrase “be more like your older brother!” thrown around more often. Guss, even at his young age, resented the fact that he was so often compared to his older “perfect” brother despite the fact that Hugo was clearly not nearly as proficient with his alphabet as Guss was, even with his extra few years of schooling. Suffice it to say, it set something of a negative tone for their relationship in the years to come.
Time passed for the Fernandez family. Hugo managed to learn his letters properly and began to read, write, and speak English with more confidence - his performance was far from perfect, but it was enough to move up to middle school. At eleven-years-old and partway through 6th grade, the Fernandez family grew once more: a second daughter, pretty little Anabel. Immediately nicknamed “Bella” by the family, Hugo took to caring for his newest sibling like a fish takes to water. He was fairly experienced at this point at feeding and changing an infant from caring for the twins, although Elena insisted on supervising whenever Hugo cared for his baby sister. However, with their family now seven members strong, the Fernandez family realized that their current home wasn’t large enough to accommodate their large family. They moved to another, slightly larger house in Bushwick - they couldn’t yet afford to leave the neighborhood, and having the funds to move to another home was already enough of a stretch.
Hugo and his siblings still went to the same school since they hadn’t moved all that far. The children grew and while Hugo was never anywhere close to being a good student, he never did bad enough to actually fail. At this point he had essentially stopped trying, having figured out a long time ago that he simply was not as bright as the other students in his grade. While he listened to the teachers and behaved well in class, the fact of the matter was that he was stupid and nothing was going to change his mind about it. It was a sentiment he generally kept to himself, although he sometimes heard other students snicker about it in class when he couldn’t properly do a math problem on the board, or when he was called out to explain why he didn’t bother turning in a book report. It made him feel inferior and humiliated, but he was less angry at his peers and more disappointed in himself. After all, it was a personal failing that he couldn’t do the work properly - not the other student’s fault. So he quietly tolerated whatever jibes were directed at him, not really speaking to anyone in class save a select few people. Even then, they weren’t friends: more just people he knew well enough to sit next to during lunch, so that he wasn’t a complete social outcast. Friendliness did not come easily to Hugo to begin with, who was generally bristly with anyone he wasn’t directly related to.
Since Hugo rarely socialized with any of his peers, his interactions with others were generally limited to his family and the hours that he spent in his father’s garage. As soon as he was old enough to find the subway on his own Hugo zipped over to Salvador’s shop after school almost every day. His mother was furious that her young son was taking the subway on his own (it was pretty dangerous) but no amount of threats or punishment could deter young Hugo from heading to his father’s garage each day, and eventually poor Elena gave up trying. Besides, Hugo seemed truly happy during each visit: not only did it provide Hugo a means of spending more time with his father -- a man he still idolized -- but it also gave him an excuse to “forget” to do his homework. Generally Hugo’s visits were spent hovering over Sal’s shoulder, watching him as he worked and badgering his father with questions about what he was doing, why he was doing it, how this tool worked and what did that weird gear thingie do; Salvador always said it was the most he ever heard his son speak in a single sitting. After a while Hugo had picked up enough knowledge to occasionally do some of the easier tasks himself, and became something of a junior assistant in his father’s garage. Salvador, for his part, seemed delighted that Hugo had taken an interest in the family business. And that he was so adept at it! Hugo had an innate ability for understanding cars and their inner workings, and for the first time in his life actually the young boy actually felt like he was good at something for a change. Cars made sense in a way that words and sums simply didn’t. Hugo was far more likely to pick up a repair manual than he was a textbook, even if it still made for some tricky reading -- at least they usually had pictures that illustrated most of the steps!
And Hugo’s admiration for his father wasn’t limited only to his garage. Salvador was known in the neighborhood as everyone’s “go to” guy. Needed a little cash to make your month’s rent? Sal scrimped up what he could and handed it over. He helped organize community events, like block parties, or church fundraisers. He’d give people who were desperate to turn their lives around work at his shop, at least until they managed to get back on their feet. Everyone knew that Salvador would literally give you the shirt off his back if he could: he loved everyone and everything, and seemed to genuinely want to make their impoverished community a better place. Hugo even got used to getting discounts and favors from the grocer and other people, since he was “Salvador’s boy”. His father’s larger than life personality and his generosity were practically the stuff of myth to his son, who wanted nothing more than to be as good a person as his father was.
It wasn’t until Hugo was in 8th grade that a teacher seemed to finally took a vested interest in figuring out why Hugo had such difficulty with learning. Rather than just dismissing him as stupid, Mrs. Valencia (Hugo’s English teacher) instead contacted Hugo’s parents and explained that she believed their son might actually be dyslexic, which would explain his difficulty with reading and math. She suggested a specialist to take Hugo to for a proper diagnosis and offered to assist the Fernandez family in any way she could. Initially, Hugo was reluctant to see the specialist: as far as he was concerned, it was worse to have something actually mentally wrong with himself than to just be stupid. Eventually his parents managed to coax him into seeing the specialist, and after a battery of tests it did indeed become evident that Hugo suffered from a moderate case of dyslexia. There wasn’t much the family could do for Hugo: he was already in primarily remedial courses, and it wasn’t like the school had a separate curriculum set aside for dyslexic students. Still, the family hoped that some teachers could be persuaded to cut Hugo a little slack and thus make it a little easier for him to pass his classes. As it was, he was perilously close to having to repeat 8th grade.
The diagnosis did make school life easier, but Hugo wasn’t happy with it. It was as he had suspected for years: there was something wrong with him that made him inferior to all other students. Simply being stupid had less of a stigma attached to it, and Hugo didn’t like the idea of having to be treated differently from the other kids because he was learning disabled. Just the word “disabled” made him feel awful. Still, what was done was done. Hugo had to make the best of a lousy situation, because that was the Right Thing to do. Still, it was hard not to feel angry sometimes - Guss was doing very well in school, and had blossomed into something of a social butterfly, while Hugo struggled along without any real friends. He envied his younger brother who seemed to be so much brighter and happier. Even the twins seemed to be having an easier go of things! Hugo’s mother and father insisted that he shouldn’t be mad, that he should be happy for his siblings, but Hugo found it awfully hard not to sulk.
And sulkiness characterized a good part of Hugo’s next few years. He graduated middle school and made his way to high school, intent on making something of a new start. After all, this was a bigger school, full of students who would have no idea who he was. He decided it was time to stop being the dumb, quiet kid in class and instead be something else: the tough guy. And so Hugo took to sitting in the back of the class, wordlessly brooding and glowering down anyone who tried to engage him in friendly conversation. It was hard to be intimidating at thirteen-years-old, but it helped that Hugo hit his growth spurt pretty early and never seemed to stop growing all throughout high school: by age fifteen he was already well on his way to six feet. Homework became something he simply didn’t bother with, and more often than not Hugo skipped classes to stand behind the school with all the other “rebellious” kids and smoke cigarettes by the dumpsters. He even stopped showing up at Sal’s garage, as needless to say his father didn’t exactly approve of Hugo’s new circle of friends and the behaviors he came to associate with them. In fact, Hugo began to avoid his family almost entirely as high school went on.
Hugo’s antics only grew more and more dire as high school progressed. In a desperate attempt to prove himself as the resident new badass in school, Hugo started a campaign of minor lawlessness that he still regrets to this day. Some shoplifting, dangerous drinking, stealing things out of other kid’s knapsacks -- everything a teenage rebel was expected to do. Combined with the hormones, an excessive amount of misplaced anger, and a sudden desire to completely change everything about himself, Hugo soon became a young thug. By fourteen he had some loose affiliations with the Brooklyn tribe of the Latin Kings, a group he’d become acquainted with through a friend’s older brother. At first Hugo was incapable of completely shutting off the moral compass his father had instilled in him much as he tried, so his work for them was mostly limited to muling and selling drugs, nicking the occasional car radio, or tagging walls with graffiti associated with the gang. Once the Latin Kings realized that Hugo had a knack for cars they put him to work in a chop shop disassembling stolen vehicles for their parts. Hugo was good at it. He made surprisingly decent cash working there, too. It only reinforced the idea in his mind that this was what he was supposed to be doing.
Unsurprisingly, Hugo’s parents grew increasingly concerned about their child’s sudden change in behavior. He’d always been a dutiful son, respectful down to his very core. Now? He was rarely ever home, and when he actually bothered to turn up it was generally to argue with his father for “lecturing.” He stole some of his mother’s jewelry and pawned it for a fistful of cash, he yelled, he slammed doors. Even though Hugo had stopped showing up at Sal’s garage after school, he always came home covered in oil and grime from cars. He got into fights with other students -- when he even bothered to turn up at school -- that were often incredibly violent. It was frankly a miracle that no one ever pressed charges, although that might’ve had more to do with Sal’s positive influence and reputation in the neighborhood than anything else. Suspensions and threats of expulsions were bandied about to little effect. It was obvious that Hugo was heading down a wrong path, but Elena and Salvador had no idea what to do. Hugo resisted all their attempts to help and guide him until he finally just left home, a few days after his sixteenth birthday, to go live with his friend Angel and his older brother. No parents meant no rules and no stupid guilt trips, right? He didn’t need anyone dragging him down, and that was all his family did. At least that was what Hugo figured as he packed the few things he had and shut the door on his family for what he assumed was forever. He left them a scribbled note not to try and find him, and although the family learned of his whereabouts through the grapevine, Sal told Elena to give the boy his space for a few months and let him come to his own conclusions.
Three months later and Hugo was living in a tiny apartment with Angel and his brother Eddy, still working in a chop shop for the Latin Kings. Thing had taken a turn for the worse: Eddy was a notorious junkie and generally surrounded himself with company that made even Hugo nervous, and he’d even allowed himself to try a few things more potent than pot. The gang was pressuring him to commit more fully to being a member, something that his instincts practically screamed was a bad idea, but Hugo was angry -- so incredibly angry -- and far too stubborn to even consider returning home as an option. He was a Tough Guy doing the Wrong Thing, and for the first time in his life no one dared to say anything bad about him. He had friends (kind of) who respected him. Hell, they were almost like a surrogate family. It seemed as if Hugo was officially settling into the gang banger lifestyle. He thought nothing would ever make him go back to his home or his family.
Until his father was shot six times in the chest while trying to defuse a robbery in a convenience store he happened to be browsing in.
Hugo first learned of his father’s murder when Guss came to his apartment and told him. Apparently, Salvador had died en route to the hospital. None of them had even had the chance to say goodbye. To this day Hugo still doesn’t remember much about the night he returned home, except holding his mother for hours while she sobbed. Almost overnight, Hugo gave up every single vice he’d picked up over the past few years: threw out all his smokes, his pipe, poured out his booze and flushed down the hard stuff. He never went back to that apartment, or back to the chop shop, or even back to school. Hugo had his mother sign a waiver withdrawing him from high school and he legally dropped out. (To this day he hasn’t even received his GED -- it’s something of a sore spot, and not something he’s particularly proud of.) With his father gone, Hugo had no choice but to step up as man of the house. He made the arrangements for his father’s funeral, handled the police inquiries. They never caught the thief who murdered his father, but the officers reassured Hugo that his father had died a hero -- but Hugo had always known his father was Superman. That was hardly a revelation to him.
Hugo was literally wracked with guilt for his behavior over the past few years. He’d forgotten everything his father had taught him: all the important lessons, the morals, the ethics, the Right and Wrong. He was convinced his father had died ashamed of his eldest son, and as far as he was concerned Hugo deserved it. What had he done except disappoint his father? It nearly broke a part of him. Hugo had always been adamant between the difference between Right and Wrong when he was younger, but his sense of morality went into overdrive after Salvador’s murder. He had to make up for all the terrible things he’d done somehow, starting with his family. Sal’s garage had been closed after his death, but Hugo knew the Right Thing to do would be to reopen it. He knew nearly enough about cars as his old man had, and Sammy had always handled the books anyway. The family needed money and he was the only one in a position to earn it, and so Hugo set to work. He commuted, just like his father had, to Salvador’s Garage in Manhattan every day. All the shop’s assistants had known Hugo for years, and it was surprisingly easy to slip into a position of authority over them. Hugo learned the rhythm of the business quick, and soon enough running the shop became complete second nature to him. He actually enjoyed it, despite the tragic circumstances surrounding his starting there.
Hugo’s family slowly began to knit back together as well. Salvador Jr. was born shortly after his father’s death, and somehow having a new life to care for seemed to comfort Elena and Hugo both. But by age eighteen Hugo decided it was time to strike out on his own. Hugo wanted nothing more than to support his family, of course, but the prospect of sharing a bedroom with his two younger brothers his entire life was too grim for him to stomach. So he found a tiny place in a shitty Manhattan neighborhood and decided to rent it, much to his mother’s dismay. Elena didn’t feel she was ready to lose both her husband and her son, but Hugo promised to visit every week -- a promise he still keeps to this day. Elena found a job to keep herself busy as well, and between her income and the money Hugo always sent the family was able to keep themselves afloat. Things gradually progressed back into some semblance of normalcy.
Life continued in a quiet pattern for Hugo. He worked in the shop every morning -- weekends were a luxury he couldn’t afford, quite literally -- and spent his nights alone in his apartment, eating frozen dinners he’d only bother to half microwave. His apartment felt lonely, though, and Hugo took to feeding the alley cats that liked to hang out underneath his building’s fire escape as a means of finding a little companionship. One of them eventually ended up following him back to his apartment, intrigued by the prospect of more tuna, and Hugo didn’t have the heart to kick the poor thing out. He creatively dubbed his new roommate “Cat” but Rosita protested upon visiting him in his apartment, and insisted his name was Mr. Wiggles. For his part, the cat seemed rather ambivalent towards either name.
Despite his new adult responsibilities and lifestyle, Hugo was still plenty prone to doing stupid things. He was determined be as good and brave a man as his late father, a man he continued to idolize -- and that sometimes got him into trouble. Mostly, Hugo dabbled in a little light vigilantism. Nothing too amazing, but if he saw someone doing something wrong he refused to be silent. He knew the signs of a stupid kid shoplifting, for example, and wasn’t afraid to grab a misled youth by the collar and give them the most pants-wettingest glare he could muster. He even foiled a few robberies in his neighborhood, including an attempted mugging at knife point of a Mr. Liam Kelly. Liam insisted on buying him a drink afterwards, and through sheer relentless willpower and an immunity to unenthused mumbling, he managed to convince Hugo to join him at a bar. For the first time in years, Hugo actually let loose a little and had fun. Remarkably, Liam liked Hugo enough to pursue an actual friendship with his new acquaintance. It was a good thing, too -- Hugo was practically working himself into a stupor, and Liam (aka Red, as he soon became known) helped to balance the mechanic out some.
After adopting Mr. Wiggles, Hugo took to fostering other animals from the shelter when he could. He’d always loved animals as a child but his family’s home had been too small as it was. The fact of the matter was they simply couldn’t afford a dog or cat. But Hugo loved nothing more than being needed, and helping the helpless was one of the few joys in life he had not directly related to work or his family. He was also prone to picking up strays and bringing them to the shelter, or even forcing Sammy to use that silly Word thing and make some “ADOPT ME” posters that he could stick in the garage. It still came as a surprise, however, when Hugo recently found what appeared to be a tiny Yorkie shivering on his welcome mat. That, however, was a relatively minor shock compared to the fact that the Yorkie could talk.
Hugo attributed this strange conversation to the fact that he was fairly drunk when it happened, but when next morning’s hangover rolled around and there was a tiny dog yapping at him to “AWAKEN YOUR POWER, YOU STUPID HUMAN” things became a little more confused. Eventually Hugo learned that this tiny dog was in fact Fenrir, some sort of wolf creature he’d never even heard of, and that he was the embodiment of the Norse god Tyr. It was, apparently, a good thing that Hugo had already decided to take this day off from work. A copious amount of coffee later, Fenrir gave Hugo a small amulet that would serve as his transformation relic and -- well, the rest is history. Recent history, in fact. Hugo is a newly awakened senshi, burdened with most glorious purpose. Who knows how things will turn out?