"So, ah, welcome," Sinbad offered as the transportation magic fizzled out. With a smirking wink, Aladdin disappeared a second after. They stood before Sinbad's estate-a mid size mansion, large, clean, and white marble with a garden that the children would surely play in or destroy. A blue dome rose from the middle of the building, replicating the palace that once was his in Sindria. It was honestly too much smaller than the living area of Sindria's palace-it had about eight guest rooms so that all generals could visit at once (if he'd be so lucky ever again), six bathrooms, two master bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, living, dining, and sun rooms, and an expansive library. He owned several acres of land, all forest on a lake with hot springs down a wooded path. While Sinbad had a sort of apartment in the trading company tower for nights when work went late that he used to use more often than this house, it looked like coming home on time was going to become essential from now on.

Sinbad was still carrying the youngest-she didn't seem to want to let go. Rei let out a squeal at the sight of the house and took off towards the door, Seti and Kaito close on her heels. While Leo and Kendria looked around in wonder, Sinbad caught Zara's mouth part with a slight smile. Which, of course, morphed into an unimpressed scowl as soon as she caught his look.

He sighed-wasn't the first time a woman had glared at him like that. He pushed open the double doors past the pillars framing the front stairs. Their footsteps echoed on the gray, blue-speckled granite tile floors. "Let's go find your rooms to get you guys to bed, okay? You have school tomorrow. Well…"

Sinbad frowned in thought at Kaito and Samia. They were too young… perhaps Ja'far had some kind of child care planned for them. He'd call Ja'far in the morning.

The children clustered around his feet followed him past the entryway, past the connected living room, dining room and kitchen. Down the left hall were a few of the guest bedrooms. When Sinbad opened the first, sure enough, two twin beds had been placed inside instead of one queen size. Honestly, he should take away Ja'far's set of keys. "I assume this is for two of you girls. Whose belongings are where?"

Rei peered around the dark, wooden door. "That's mine! And I know that jacket on the other bed is Samia's." She ran inside, giving a twirl so that her robes looked like wings. "Our very own room, Samia! It's so big!"

Sinbad smiled in spite of himself, and put the three year old down on the carpet. "Set up your things however you like, I suppose. And, um, in the bathroom across the hall, brush your teeth, and then change into your pajamas before bed, okay? The girls can have the bathroom closest to the kitchen, and the boys get the farthest."

Samia pouted at being set down, but seemed to understand. Luckily, Zara stepped forward took her small hand. For once, the older girl did smile, directed at her sister. It was a lovely smile, but maybe because he was comparing it to the only other expression he'd seen on her face. "I'll help you get on your pajamas, okay? I think Mister Ja'far got us some new ones! Let's find your toothbrush…"

Letting out a breath of relief, Sinbad beckoned the rest out to the next room for the other two girls, where Kendria carefully set her staff down on her nightstand and ran a hand over her quilt in fascination. Now that Sinbad looked closer in the light of the moon glowing from their window, each of them had a desk, like the room before, and atop the desk was a pile of books, notebooks, and pens beside each of their bookbags. Ja'far really did think of everything. How long had he been planning this?

Finally, the boys' room. Three beds were here. Sinbad knew he enough rooms for each of them, but he figured Ja'far had set it up this way for all the children to learn how to share and get along better. "This is for you boys."

With a cheer, Seti hopped up onto his bed and rolled around. Leo was smiling, heading straight to get ready for bed like he'd been told. Kaito stayed by Sinbad's side, however, examining the last bed with confusion.

"I… get my own bed?" he asked.

Sinbad's heart plummeted, coming to a deeper realization of just how little he knew about these kids. How many of them had lived in poverty despite Ja'far's money? Had the mothers all used the money for the children, or for themselves? Were the mothers all still alive? How many children could he have saved from that?

"Absolutely," Sinbad told him firmly. "Your own bed, your own desk, your own dresser!"

His mouth fell open, and he squeezed Sinbad's leg in a hug. "Thank you, Papa!"

For a moment, the words threw off Sinbad so much that all he could do was swallow thickly. Finally, he managed, "Y-you're welcome, kiddo." Clearing his throat, he stepped back towards the door reaching the handle in a desperate need to escape. "Get straight to bed, now, okay? Big day tomorrow."

Sinbad practically ran from the room to his own, where he took one of the longest, hottest showers of his life. Made especially long by how he leaned against the shower wall for about ten minutes, just letting the water stream down his body while he stared blankly at the wall. This was supposed to be therapeutic somehow, help him think through what had just happened in the last two hours. But most of the thoughts in his head resembled shrieking incomprehensibly.

After pulling on a comfortable shirt and loose pants, he dragged a hand down his face. On pure instinct, his feet were already walking to the kitchen, where he sluggishly opened the magical cooling box and automatically reached upward-

Instead of closing around the closest bottle, his fingers brushed against a note. With a frown, Sinbad looked drearily at the shelf to see it barren of all its beautiful, previous alcohol. In its place was a single note in Ja'far's sharp handwriting:

Nice try

He deadpanned. "I hate you."

The note didn't answer.

Sinbad lowered himself heavily into the nearest dining chair, dropping his head into his hands. True, he shouldn't have gone for the liquor anyway. It wouldn't do well to have a hangover with seven children to herd around.

I'm already a deadbeat to them, he depressingly mused to himself. Even if this is an insane, sudden, ridiculous situation that I never wanted… I don't want to graduate to alcoholic deadbeat.

Breathing out shakily, his hands slid back to grip his hair that was still damp from the shower. What the hell made Ja'far and the other generals think he could handle something like this? Did it mean they were regaining faith in him, or were they trying to punish him somehow? Surely, these children would be better off with their mothers or in an adoptive family that actually knew what to do with them. An adoptive family that didn't have horrendous drinking habits, a new woman in their bed every week, and that small issue of screwing over the entire world. If his friends mistrusted him so much for what he'd done, why would they think, in any universe, that they could trust him in being a single father of seven kids he'd never met?

I had better find a damn good babysitter, unless Ja'far has already gotten one and taken over more of my life, Sinbad thought, grimacing. I can't do this. I'm the last man in the world suited for fatherhood, and they fucking know it.

Shaking his head, he lowered it onto the table. But I've held the weight of comrades, countries, the entire world on my shoulders for most of my life. Why are seven children any more difficult?

His shoulders shuddered with his breaths, but behind his arms, he felt a wry smile. Because I've proven that I can't be trusted with the lives of anyone, much less my own children that require individual attention. Because I have a God complex that nearly got everyone I loved killed. Because I'm a complete mess.

But even when he'd made horrible mistakes in the past and been an utter mess for them afterwards, he'd managed to push through and achieve great feats. Why was this the first time he'd ever felt as if there was something he couldn't do?

He had gotten more life-altering surprises in his life. Why did he feel like bolting at the word "Papa"?

"M-Mister S-Sinbad?"

He lifted his head from his arms and blinked blearily over at the voice. It was Kendria, clutching her smooth staff like a security blanket, dressed in a little, blue nightgown with tears streaming down her face. She seemed to be saying his name out of surprise, as if she hadn't expected to find him out of his room.

Immediately, he stood and pushed away from his chair, crouching down in front of her and reaching out. The little girl flinched and scurried away his hand like a stray cat. Alright, so this one didn't like physical contact. At least, not from… strangers.

That's right. He had to remember that he was just as much a stranger to them as they were to him.

Realizing his mistake, Sinbad lifted his hands and said in his most soothing tone, "I'm sorry-I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just concerned." He dipped his head down further to look her in her tearful eyes. "Are you alright? Did you have a bad dream?"

Slowly, she nodded.

He sat down heavily against the base of the counter by the sink. Bad dreams were something Sinbad could understand. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I-I…" Her voice trailed off in a hiccup, and he realized she probably already had enough trouble trying to speak the native language when she wasn't crying. Kendria gave up and launched herself into his lap, where she curled up, shivering.

After he got over the shock, Sinbad, wrapped his arms around her and pet the hair that was now down from her earlier braid. She didn't say anything, but she gripped his shirt harder when he hugged her, and he hoped whatever little he could do was helping. Kendria was still shuddering against his chest, but not as often, and her breaths had started to even out. Her legs loosened, letting her feet fall on top of his crossed ones-

Where he saw the pink, shining scars around her ankles.

She must've felt his strangled gasp at the sight, and followed his gaze. Kendria self-consciously pulled down her nightgown over her ankles. Too late-Sinbad couldn't help but give her the look of utter horror.

She had been a slave.

My own child was a slave and I wasn't there to save her.

Kendria finally managed, "I-I dream th-that the b-bad men… got me again. Ran out o-of the room…"

"I'm sorry," he heard himself say, voice far away. "I'm so, so sorry, Kendria."

She looked confused as to what he was apologizing for. Sinbad reached up and pushed his hair away from his neck, pulled down the collar of his shirt. His own scars from the metal collar he once wore glinted in the moonlight-fading, but still there. They had nearly disappeared by the time he had gone to the Sacred Palace, but for some reason, when he'd reformed himself… they looked as if he'd only gotten them a month ago. It was as if his vivid memories of torturous weeks under the cruelty of Madara had been so subconsciously present in his mind that his new body had the nightmares etched permanently onto his skin.

The girl had a sharp intake of breath at the sight of his scars, reaching up to touch his neck with small hands. "Y-you… too?"

"Yeah," he whispered, taking her little hand in his. "Me too."

It was as if something had shifted, like a wall had crumbled that he hadn't known was there to begin with until sunlight shone in its place. The girl finally relaxed, leaning more fully against him as she put her little hand up to his, as if comparing the size. They were quiet for a time, but it wasn't awkward. A peaceful quiet, with just the moon and stars keeping watch.

Soon, she noticed his hair trailing on the floor, and reached for it. "Pretty!"

"You think so?"

She nodded, seeming to brighten a bit. After rubbing the tear streaks from her face, she reached around his head, gently pulled his hair to his front right, and began to braid. Sinbad let her, setting his head back against the wood and watched her hands weave back and forth. With each movement, she seemed to become more calm and content. She wasn't bad at braiding, either-especially for a seven-year-old.

Sinbad let her find a band to hold his braid once she finished, and then suggested, "Let's get you back to bed, okay? You're going to need all the sleep you can get for your first day of school-"

"Papa?"

"Sindad?"

The two of them whirled to see Kaito and Samia peeking around the corner.

Gently easing Kendria off of his lap, Sinbad stood with a sigh. "What are you two doing out of bed?"

Samia just reached upward, big, glowing eyes expectant. So, of course, he had to pick her up. Kaito twisted his tiny hands together. "I… I can't sleep! I miss Mama…"

At this, Samia leaned her head against his shoulder. "Ma."

His panic seemed to be kicking back in, but he forced himself to think. Whenever he couldn't sleep as a child, or when he'd been woken by Rurumu for screaming from nightmares of bloodshed and slavery...

"Sit down at the table," he told them quietly, setting Samia down in the nearest seat. "I'll get you something to drink."

Sinbad got busy, pouring cups, putting them on the heater. Once ready, he let the tea steep before pouring in the cream. (One for himself, because why not?) In a minute, he checked to make sure the cups weren't too hot, and then gave one milk tea to each. "Here-this will help."

The children took the cups eagerly. Pulling out a seat beside the boy, Sinbad sat down and watched them take gulps of the warm milk tea. He leaned his cheek on a hand. "Maybe I could help you write to your Ma, Kaito and Samia, or even better, call her. How about that?"

Kaito set down his cup, blinking up at Sinbad in confusion. "But I can't."

"Why not?"

"Auntie Velma said I can't see Mama or have her answer me," Kaito said, voice trailing off sadly. "She is with Rukh, she says."

Sinbad sat up, paling and feeling like an insensitive idiot. "O-oh. I'm… I'm so sorry, Kaito. But you know…" he leaned closer to the little boy. "The Rukh are all around us. I'm sure your mama is watching over you always."

The boy's eyes were wide, and then he broke out into a huge grin. "You think so?"
"I know so." He ruffled Kaito's hair.

"It's true," Kendria confirmed, offering a shy smile to her little brother. "My mother watches me from the Rukh too!"

"Oh," Sinbad muttered, swallowing. Two of their mothers were dead… and so young, too. Would he have been able to keep them alive, had he known? "You know, so does mine."

"Really?" Kaito seemed much more reassured by this, and Kendria scooted closer.

"Do you ever talk to her?" Kendria asked. "I talk to my mom, sometimes, even though I know she can't talk back."

Sinbad hesitated, trailing a finger around the lip of his mug. "I haven't for… a while." Why haven't I?

Samia had finished her tea, and set her cup down with a satisfied sigh. "What is Rukh?"

Frowning thoughtfully, Sinbad tried, "It's… the life energy around us, made from every living thing and the spirits of all those before us."

Samia's frown matched his own, in a far more adorable version. "Mama said she wanted to 'go back to the Rukh.' She was very happy about it," noted Samia. "She has not come back from it yet."

Sinbad, who had been taking a drink from his mug, choked and nearly spat it all over the table. The children seemed startled by this reaction, but he quickly set the cup down and pounded on his chest a few times. After clearing his throat, he croaked, "Samia, when did your mother say that?"

The girl squished her cheeks with her hands, as if this would help her remember. "When flowers come up."

Last spring. Four months ago. The world tipped. "Oh," he choked, gripping the table. "I see."

And as he watched the small child carefully pick up the cup of comfort he'd made her, all he could think was:

I killed her mother.

Sinbad hadn't even realized that those who considered suicide might have taken his encouragement to 'return to the Rukh' as their last push and… before they had managed to stop David... And he'd made the rest of the world want to 'return to the Rukh'-hadn't yet thought of the fact that it meant these children had wanted to as well. That he'd forced them to want something they hadn't wanted.

Sinbad's eyes locked on Kendria...and the markings from her chains.

He could see his knuckles white on the table, clenched to keep from shaking. His stomach churned. "W-well just know… I'll do my best to take care of you." He stood. "And that means you guys gotta head back to bed, okay?"

They agreed quite readily, except Kaito, who bounced in his seat. "But what about a bedtime story?"

"I'll tell you any kind of story you want if tomorrow night you get a good sleep tonight." He put his hands on their backs lightly and herded them towards the hall. "Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Papa!"

"Dreams, Sindad!"

Kendria smiled last. "Goodnight, Dad."

Sinbad watched until they had tottered back to their rooms, and then made his way to his own. At first, he sat in his bathroom, sure he was going to be sick in the toilet, but managed to fight down the bile and pull himself into bed. The clock showed that it was past one in the morning.

And he laid awake in bed for several hours after, the whispered wailing of his ghosts refusing to let merciful sleep take him.


Hello angels!

Oh, the angst is real. I love pain. But hey, it gets worse before it gets better, right? Also, some Dad-daughter bonding time and alcoholism.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, a thank you to itsdanystormborn on tumblr (DanyStormborn01 here), because it's her story too. Thank you for reading and your sweet reviews! Please review if you liked the chapter or if you like puppies! That should cover everyone, right? (Jk, you don't have to, but I eat reviews for motivation calories.) Also, last time I'll see you before Monday, so MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Mizpah,

~LoneStorm