There was something special about the silence that took place during late evenings when someone else was home. Especially in homes with children. One where excitement morphed into content tiredness, caution not to wake anyone up.
Before being a parent he rarely experienced it. Maybe with some clients, or ex-friends. Then with Lou, when they lived together.
Simone was making tea for the two of them. She rethought the idea of going home when the snowstorm began earlier, and it was only getting worse, the flurry of snow obscuring the street outside
…The joys of being a business owner with actual employees, he supposed. Her freedom was all thanks to the new hands helping at the dating agency. She could afford to stay over with them, without hindering her and Julie's business.
Not something he can relate to - Joris and he were pretty much joined at the hip. Not that he minded.
He was keenly aware of all the noise they were making. The boiling water, the way his claws subconsciously drummed the table while switching between reading and looking at Simone, and the subtle "cling" of the spoon as it met the cup, while she stirred the sugar.
Not any sort of noise that would wake him up, that's for sure. But still, he was a bit scared.
"Here you go, Mr. Crepin!" She placed the cup in front of him, before sitting down across from him. Quickly losing herself in thought as she looked out of the window at the snowfall.
"Thank you, Simone."
She was the type of person who made it easy to sit in silence with her, just as easy as she made the conversations. Funny, witty… He appreciated her company, especially now.
Joris leaves him little energy for energized talking before sleep.
He sipped from the tea…
"So, Mr. Crepin… Do you plan to enroll him in a school, or academy, here in Bonta?"
…And promptly choked on it, his claws leaving a mark on the table.
"W-what sort of a question is that?" He said, between coughs.
She tried not to pay attention to his reaction. "Well… He's already nine, and you have the income to afford that, so…"
"And what's wrong with homeschooling…?"
"Nothing." She said, casually, "I was curious if you were planning on doing something like that… Though I do think it could be a pretty good opportunity for him."
"No, I'm not planning on it." He said, "And before you ask, I have my reasons."
"What reasons?" She said, nervously.
He eyed her suspiciously.
"…Me and Julie discussed what we'd do if we ever decide to have kids," She mumbled, "And I wanted to know your opinion on these things…"
He couldn't help the giggle that escaped him. Ah.
"That explains everything…" He took a long, smug sip of the tea. "...Well, I guess I have no choice but indulge you, if it's for Julie."
She looked down, "You wouldn't mind?"
"W-well, it's a bit difficult to put into words," He said, really understating it, "But I don't mind."
"Papycha-a-a!"
He burst into the house, almost throwing multiple things in his way.
It's lucky that it wasn't a work day. He would have collided with a customer… Or made a customer collide with a vase. Kerubim sighed.
Well, his bubbly personality was his bubbly personality.
Joris stopped in front of his armchair, and crossed his arms on his knees, standing up on his toes and looking up at him. He's not sure if he's trying to get attention or making sure he'll be heard. He puts away his book.
"Why am I blue and short?" He tilted his head quizzingly, looking him in the eyes.
Another one of these… He felt tired already.
On par with the years' past "If I was left on your doorstep, how come you know my birthday?" and "Why is my last name different from yours? Why can't I be a Jurgen-Crepin? Can we change my name to that, papycha?" He's really not up to making up more lies about his origins today.
"W-what brings this question on, my Jojo?" He said, overly sweet and curious, clenching his hands together.
"Well, I met this girl today, and she asked me why," He recalled, "And now I also wonder why! I promised to tell her if you knew."
He felt a confusing, twisted spike of anxiety rise in his chest.
"She wasn't mean to you, was she?" He struggled to keep his voice even.
Joris looked confused. "Why would she?"
"Just making sure." He said, peppering in an awkward laugh, "Some people can be weird about others' looks for no reason."
He swallowed shakily, trying really hard not to think about what his mind was pushing him to think of, while Joris watched his expression, puzzled.
Good job staying focused, Crepin…
"Well… You see," He starts, trying to think of something, before immediately giving up. "I don't know why your skin is blue," Joris' face immediately falls.
"But!" He continued, nervously. His frown disappeared, as he started to listen even more intently, "...Maybe one of your parents was an osamodas…?" He proposed, sweating bullets.
Joris' face lit up, and he let out a sigh of relief.
"Like Simone! Dad or mom could be as cool as she is!"
"L-like Simone!" He agreed, as enthusiastically as he could. He wished Julith was as 'cool' as Simone is.
After a few seconds, his lit up eyes looked up at him mischievously, almost purring, "Well, you didn't say you didn't know why I'm short."
Shit.
"W-well… Um…" He began, "You know how I told you that when you were really small, we went to a lot of eniripsas?"
"Yeah…?"
"It was because, um- You were growing much slower than most children," This sounds much better than 'I wasn't sure if you'd survive all the side-effects of being possessed by a dragon, and I was scared shitless.' he thinks, "One of them said that you had, um… a syndrome, where you'll probably always be… very short?"
He wondered, not for the first time, if it's good to keep information about his possession from him.
"Papycha…" He said, pouting, "I wanted to help you reach the top shelves when I grow up."
It took all of his strength not to break down laughing.
"C-considering," He cleared his throat, trying not to laugh, "Considering h-how strong you are right now, by the time you grow up you'll be able to actually lift me up to the shelves… Even if you aren't, we'll always have Luis to ask to bring some shelves down instead."
Luis growled. They both ignored him
"Then I don't mind. And- There are benefits to being short. You can hide from enemies more easily, and it's harder for traps to do damage…" Joris said, like he'd thought about it a thousand times. He probably had. "And- you're short too. I'll be just like you!"
He looked up at him like he was someone actually worth looking up to. It made him a bit uncomfortable.
One of his biggest hopes is that he won't be just like him.
"Always thinking ahead, my Jojo…" He ruffled his head, "I'm very proud of you, my little adventurer."
He knows that one day Joris will see Jahash's statue, somehow put the two and two together, and realize just how badly he's been duped. He'll leave him alone. He'll hate him. And then, he'll be left alone, one final time.
And he can take it from anyone... except for him. So while he still can, he'll do anything - he'll do anything if it means Joris will look at him with that wonder in his eyes, again and again.
"Well… That's because," He continued, sipping tea from his cup of tea, "When I was young, I served as an altar bow-meow at the temple of Ecaflip."
"Mhm." She hummed, interested.
"You must have realized that the temple was, uh… for orphans." He said, with unease.
"I had my suspicions," She mumbled, "Mr. Crepin, I know it was a long time ago, but… I'm sorry for your loss."
"...Thank you." He smiled, "Back when I was there, I witnessed a lot of, uh… fights."
He took a deep breath.
"Usually I wasn't its target, but often it got… Violent." He stared at his tea. The light contorted his reflection, "Especially towards the kids who didn't quite fit in the mold, like…"
He trailed off, hoping to get the point across.
She looked downwards, disturbed as the realization hit her. "...Like Joris?"
He looked away, not quite meeting her eyes.
"I didn't mean to sour the mood, so forgive me."
"No. It's fine. I… asked this myself." She said quietly. "I understand your reservations now, Mr. Crepin."
An awkward silence stretched, mood now positively killed.
"Would you like another cup of tea?" He blurted out, "And then you could tell me about… about how the business is going?"
"S-sure." She smiled, desperate to make the situation less awkward.
"Alright!" He said, standing up, "Two more cups of tea, coming up!"
"Papycha, say… How come we've never celebrated your birthday?"
The question interrupted him, as he was reading his bedtime story. He doesn't need it at his age, but both of them enjoy it.
"Um," He stammered, "Uh…"
"You don't know your birthday?" He said, looking up at him.
A good assumption to make. And troubling, considering he always tried to circle around the fact why so many children were in that temple in the first place.
Just another one reason to be scared of how fast he was figuring things out.
"...No, my little Jojo." He sighed, "It just makes me a little bit sad."
"Is there any way to fix that?" He said, worried, "I don't want your birthday to make you sad, papycha…"
When he asked it that way, he almost believed that there was.
"I… Don't know, my Jojo." He said, before quickly adding, "But thank you for wanting to make it better."
He gave him the warmest smile he could muster up, and yet…
"Papycha…" He asked, "Why does your birthday make you sad?"
"It's a bit personal… And an adult thing." He scratched his back, chuckling nervously.
"Well, I'm mature, I'll be a teenager soon," He pouted, desperately, "And you said it yourself, we should always talk about things that make us sad."
The dilemma. It's really not his place to make Joris shoulder this for him. He has no idea what he's offering to him, and how much he just wants to take it from him. It's one of the many things he hates about himself.
"You always make me feel better when I'm sad… I want to help you too." Joris said, quietly.
"Well… You see, that day reminds me of a- a couple of people from my childhood," He said, before he even realized, "Whom I miss."
"And?"
He pulls words out of him so masterfully. He can't not give him what he wants…
"And we hadn't seen each other in a very long time. It… Makes me very sad, Joris."
…Even if it's a bad thing.
He looked a bit glum, now that he heard it. Eyes darting between him and the blanket. "Is it about your family?"
"Yes. It's about my family." He said, the words tasting weird in his mind. "You're very smart… My Joris."
He ignored his praise, lost in thought, before quietly, cautiously asking, "What happened to them?"
He'd talk all about this too, if he was just a bit more stupid. But he's scared.
Scared of contorting him by indulging his curiosity too much.
And just as scared of leaving him fragile to how cruel the world really is.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Alright." Joris let out a sigh, somewhere in limbo between relief and disappointment. Then, "What were they like?"
He could vaguely remember the smell of snappers as mom friend them. He kept asking her when they'd be ready, until she snapped and locked him out of the kitchen.
She'd be scandalized at the spices he used now, while doing the same dish for Joris.
He could vaguely remember running through the now acrylic, washed out fields after his siblings.
Countless other blurry and confusing memories.
Atcham.
Himself.
Stupid Atcham and stupid himself. Doing stupid, idiotic twin stuff, up until the temple-
"I was too young to remember it well." He said, "But we lived in a big house, in the countryside. With our mother, step-father, sisters, and brothers," He omits the fact that save for one person, all of them were half-brothers and sisters, for the sake of answering less questions, "There were fields, fields of flowers and grass, as far as the eye can see. Me and- Me and one of my brothers were really close with our mother."
He gripped the blanket beneath him. He could almost see it behind his eyes, as he stared at some random point of the dark room.
"...What was grandma like?"
Grandma...
Hearing him call her that sent a happy, guilty shiver down his spine.
Sometimes he didn't know how to look him in the eyes while thinking of Jurgen and Abigor families. But Joris was equally, if not more, his, wasn't he? He left a brand on him. Something far deeper than genetics.
(Was he happy that Jahash and Julith were dead? If he was, it wasn't the right thing.)
(Would he even want to do the right thing? He loved Joris.)
"My mother was… A bit grumpy at times, though she loved having fun. She liked cooking and fishing. Took it really seriously." He said, nostalgically, "She had brown fur. And- And, she didn't like having it pointed out, but she's the reason me and Atcham both have the underbite!" He chuckled.
He only regretted mentioning him a little bit. Usually he omitted him entirely from his life, while telling stories.
"A-Atcham?" Joris said, surprised at the mention, before focusing on something far more important, "Wait- An underbite?"
"It's when your lower jaw is in front of your upper jaw." He stated, and bared his teeth at him. Joris stared.
"I didn't know that's not normal…" Joris mumbled, lost in thought.
"N-no! It's normal." He said quickly, "Just makes it a bit hard to chew sometimes."
"Oh."
"...T-There's really no such thing as not normal, when it comes to bodies, my Jojo." He said, quietly, "At least, that's my opinion."
Joris didn't look like he got it. It's fine. And he's been trying his hardest to make sure Joris doesn't need to hear this sort of reassurance.
They both went a little while without talking, each thinking about something of their own. He wondered what Joris was thinking of.
"...Can you at least tell me what your doziak sign is? I promise I won't try to figure out your birthday." Joris said shyly… One of his hands behind his back.
Ah. This gives him a pause. Well… Out of all people to trust to try and do something fun for his birthday, it'd be Joris.
He doesn't mind being bluffed with, if it is what's going on.
"It's... dopples. My sign is dopples." He said, smirking. Joris smiled in return.
"Can you tell me a story from your childhood? From, um… before the temple?" He said, "Or if it makes you too sad, we can finish the fairy tale…"
"I don't know. It's quite late." He smiled, looking out of the window, "And who here wanted to ask me things before sleep, instead of finishing the story?"
"Papycha, please, please, tell me a story!" He gave him those big, pleading eyes, "Please, papycha? One story?"
"Alright," He sighed, pretending to be defeated, "I guess I'll have to tell you a story from my childhood."
Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Joris' beaming smile.
"It was during the summer…"
"Keke… Have you ever thought about kids?"
The question is sudden, considering they're trying to sleep for, perhaps, the first time after a week-long expedition. Some magical mumbo jumbo shtick to free a princess.
It set bone-deep exhaustion into him.
But…
"Why are you asking? Are you…?" He asked, carefully. They were a bit past the age where every single thing turned into a fight, and then a break up. Now it was only the medium sized things turning into fights, and then silent treatment.
Probably because they were older and more tired. But it could be just that divorcing once a month is not an easy task.
"No, I'm not." She laughed, "I just thought about stuff."
He hummed, "Like what?"
"Well, we have our own home. We're married. We're thirty. And we never talked about this." She said, a bit sadly.
There were a lot of things they just never talked about. He hummed in agreement, wrapping a bit deeper into the blanket, though his mind was more aware than ever.
"So…" She continued, "I think… I think I don't mind kids? I'm neutral on it, is what I'm trying to say. I don't want to be pregnant, but I don't mind. I don't know how that would work out with wanting kids, but…" She trailed off in a yawn.
"Adoption?"
"...Yeah. I guess so." She said, lightheartedly, "And… If you don't want kids, I still want to retire. Maybe in a few years. I don't know. I think I'm getting a bit tired."
Maybe it was their recent exhaustion talking through her, but he wouldn't mention it while her hands were within the reach of anything that can be used like a weapon.
"And you?" She looked him in the eyes.
The moon illuminated her beautifully, shining through the tulle curtains. He swallowed nervously.
"I think I want kids. I don't know when, just that I want them." He murmured, and giggled nervously.
He can imagine it, crystal-clear, if a bit idealized.
Cooking for them. Telling them stories. Arguing and making up with them. Teaching them everything he knows. Making their dreams come true.
"Adoption kind of makes it better… Imagine going to my old temple to take a little ecaflip in." He purred, giddy.
She frowned, playfully. "Or a stray ouginak!"
"Or both." He replied.
She laughed, eyes shining in the moonlight. "It sounds wonderful to me."
He curled closer to her. There weren't a lot of things that made him happy, but she was one of them.
He'd do anything for her.
Joris was laying on the couch, face down. Resting.
With the curtains drawn and lights off, the white noise of people outside was almost comforting.
Their visit at Amakna's yearly fair didn't go well. The city was unfamiliar to Joris, and they didn't plan to stay for long, so he wanted him to experience his favorite part of it, but…
He underestimated how noisy and crowded it would be for their first time there.
Well. You can't regret what already happened, he sighed. Quietly, looking at the movement of the crowds, made into a sort of theater of shadows by the curtains, he sipped on a cold cocoa.
It just seemed like the sort of situation cocoa could improve.
…He thought about not opening the shop tomorrow after all. Sure, the festival would bring in a new customer base, but he kind of… doesn't care at all, when it concerns his son.
He should have noticed his mood souring sooner, before he broke into angry tears, demanding to go home. He swallowed even more cocoa, trying to not think about clawing at himself just thinking about what happened.
So here they were. Himself, a random book he found and hadn't been reading, two cups of the cocoa, and Joris on the couch.
"Papycha…?" He heard him mumble, muffled by the pillow. His head whipped to look at him. "I'm sorry I ruined the festival."
"You didn't ruin anything, my Jojo." He said sweetly, "It was a bit overwhelming for me too."
Joris stayed silent.
"Just please… Tell me when it gets too much, next time?" He pleaded, "So that we can leave faster."
"I… Didn't realize it until I got a migraine." He mumbled, "I thought I was excited."
"Oh Joris…" He sighed, coming to sit down on the couch, careful not to touch him, "That's okay too. Nobody always knows what they're feeling…" He tried to come up with some way to spin it into a good thing, or a life lesson, but all that came to mind was his stupidly depressing life.
After all, it only took him maybe a decade or two at a time to realize how hilariously toxic and doomed every single close relationship he ever had was, starting from his and Atcham's birth, ending, for now, when he last saw Indie some ten years ago, and was told him that his head would look nice on his wall.
He doesn't know if there's something inherently caustic about him, but… he doesn't have the luxury of being able to say he's unlucky.
He can only bring one person to mind he hadn't disappointed and pushed away, who is just as important to him as Atcham, Bashi, Lou, and Indie were. No, hundred times- Thousand times more important than all of them combined.
…Joris stared at him, as he realized he'd been staring at Joris.
He laughed nervously,before sliding even farther away on the couch, as subtle as he could, embarrassed. He didn't even notice when Joris sat up…
It's someone he hadn't disappointed and pushed away yet, he reminded himself.
"You look like you have a story to tell…" Joris said quietly. Only a little weirded out by his outburst.
He still looked more like a wet towel, than a person, but at least he didn't seem to be upset anymore.
"No, I've just been thinking. About stuff." He blurted out.
"Stuff?"
"Stuff."
Joris just looked confused. "Do you want to talk about-"
"Do you want cocoa?" He said, quickly, to change the topic, "It's cold now, but that might be a good thing in this weather."
He thought about it, quite a bit longer than he usually thought about things, before nodding, a bit unsure. As he walked to the table, Joris moved to sit against the back of the couch, wrapping himself in the thin blanket, staring somewhere.
"...Can we try going back to the festival later? In the evening?"
"Of course we can, my Jojo." He murmured, bringing his cup to him, "Now, tell me if it's good, won't you?"
He took a sip. And finally, gave him a slight smile.
"It's perfect."
Why did he never take the time to learn where these sorts of things were in the city? He asked this question a lot. He had no idea where to start, and what was the most important thing to get out of the way, and where to end, and in what time-frame to do this.
He has to hurry, no matter what Kanigroo said. He's pretty much his only option, and when his kindness runs out, he'll be alone in this.
Tortue Brutale would probably kill the kid. Crocosec would probably, somehow, kill him even more lethally, the second he would ask him to babysit, so-
"What are you looking for, Mr. Crepin?" A familiar voice startled him.
He whipped around to face her.
Arnelle. Local rancher and farmer, mother, and someone he bought from, often. (No respect for anything but the freshest mimilk-)
He muttered a praise to Ecaflip under breath.
"...Mr. Crepin, is everything alright?" She asked, worried.
"No- Yes. Well, no. I- I think I adopted a child?" He faltered, "A-and I don't know what to do- or where to go, or-"
Her eyes went as wide as saucers, "Elaborate?"
"I- Well, he- His-" He stopped. He wasn't supposed to say anything about his parents. As far as the world was concerned, the kid had nothing to do with them, and he himself knew nothing, "He was… Left at my doorstep in the middle of the night, a day or so ago. And I have no idea what to do." Then, he hurriedly added, "I left him at home with a friend, we already got some, uh, diapers and food."
…After everything was said and done, he left Bonta in a hurry, as discreetly as he could, taking only the most essential items for the child's immediate survival he could carry home. Especially considering his own wounds.
The champion's sister- Bakara, he thinks, was wailing when he left. Tearing apart the baby clothes and Julith's pitiful attempts at knitting with her bare hands. He tried not to look back at her, before hurrying to the zaap.
"What exactly do you need help with?" The woman's voice cuts through his thoughts.
They had an… agreement, very quickly discussed, and even quicklier decided on, immediately his fight with Julith, following Jahash's sacrifice.
"An Agreement" being a very generous term for her hysterical cries of "Get this spawn of my brother's murderer out of my life. I don't care how! Chuck him in an orphanage, raise him as your own- I don't care! Do not let him near me, do not let him near what is left of my family, you understand?! Just get rid of him, please… Please…"
Was there even anything left of their family? Their father wasn't still alive, was he?
He couldn't help but keep thinking, about how exactly she, alone, would get rid of that big crib-
"Mr. Crepin?"
"S-sorry. I have a lot on my mind right now." He crossed his arms, trying not to wince. His shoulder hurt. Badly. It felt like every part of him was bruised or burnt. "I don't have a crib or clothes… And I don't know where to buy food and diapers for him. Or toys."
When he fought Julith, she seemed desperate. Her attention was divided between him, and Bakara, who ran away, clutching the child. Maybe it was the reason he didn't die.
Nobody would take a lie so far as to have a child. Maybe loving this child was the reason he could kill her.
He wanted to throw up. None of it made sense.
"I see. And what's the food and diaper situation for now?"
"It's… Alright, I think." He said, before pathetically trying to joke, "I can't feed him with the mimilk you sell when we run out, can I?"
"By Sacrier, no!" She laughed.
"Thought so." He mumbled, putting on a slight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
She was scratching her chin, lost in thought. "Alright… I think you can go to a seamstress to ask about the clothes, and handyman's workshop for the crib… It's been such a long time since my kids were this small…"
He took a step away. His brain was fried, in more ways than one, but he still knew where both were, relatively. "Thank you, I-"
"Wait! I understand that this is very difficult, especially at your age, so…" She muttered, "Would you like me to ask around if someone wants to adopt a child? Or… If a-anyone knows any nice orphanages? To help you find someone who can care for him properly?"
His fists clenched so hard his claws poked at his flesh painfully, suddenly struggling to breathe.
"N-no." He struggled, "Sorry, it's just that I… I need some time to think about it all. It's very sudden."
"It's nothing." She said, solemnly, "I completely understand."
Still too cheerful, for someone who just suggested abandoning a child - his thoughts bitterly interject.
"...I'm sorry I hid that from you."
She sighed, looking in the window, away from him. "You better be."
"Is there anything, a single thing I can do to make it up to you, Lou…?"
"What exactly can you do-?! Go back in time and be more honest!?" She growled, turning to him briefly, before turning away to the window. Her hands gripped the windowsill.
Taking a step towards her, he said, "It doesn't have to change anything, Loulou…"
He wanted to sound sweet, but the result was a bit pathetic.
"Doesn't have to? You-" She growled, "You've hidden being a demigod from me for decades!"
"I didn't want you or Indie to think differently of me."
"How am I supposed to know… That we- That I won't end up…"
"End up…?"
"End up an old hag next to you!" She said, turning to him, "Don't pretend you don't know about… about those other demigods! You know Goultard!" She paused, before mumbling, "Ouginak, how did I not figure it out…"
"Lou, we'll be alright." He said, approaching her, trying to take her hands in his, "I won't just… stop aging all of a sudden. He's an iop, I'm an ecaflip, and-"
She backed away, avoiding him.
"You don't know that. All of these demigods have been alive for centuries. Like that… That Ush." She mumbled, with disdain. They've had to deal with a couple of the things he's done, during their adventures. "People say he's immortal. That he has died before, and then back reinvigorated and with a vengeance in a few years, as if nothing happened!"
"And they're insane for it," He said, forcefully, "People don't just come back from dying!"
"You never died before, you wouldn't know!" She barked, crossing her hands. "I don't want to just… Be the first in line of hundreds of wives when you outlive me! Or for you to leave me when I stop being pretty…" Her voice wavered.
"You don't matter that little to me! I wouldn't care if you were to stop being pretty, I don't care about anything as long as it's you, Lou!" He growled, "I want to grow old with you! What makes you think I'd ever leave you?!"
She frowned, before changing the topic. "So you admit you don't know if you'll age at the same rate as I do?"
"Yes! I admit it." He said, angrily, "I don't know anything! I'm just… Me."
He wants so badly to believe there's something fundamentally different between him and all of them. They're… Almost untouchable, unthinkably ancient. He cannot conceptualize being like them someday. Forgetting all about Lou and Indie, about others, becoming some six hundred year old freak who lives in a weird tower and looks down on "mortals", rubbing it into everyone's face… Utterly, unthinkably lonely, with nobody else there.
"Lou, I can't imagine living that long. If I were to live alone for so long, I would just-" He cut himself off, staring into the distance.
Just thinking about it made him want to claw his throat out.
"I'm…" She looked downwards. "I'm sorry I yelled."
He sighed deeply, coming to sit down at the table, exhausted. "It's fine, I… Yelled too." He ran a hand through his fur, "Lou… You know I really mean it, when I say I love you, right?"
She stared at the floor silently, her whole posture crumbling.
"Yeah… I know that."
"I can't believe Atcham was so close and I had no idea… Do you think that n-now that he knows where we live, he's going to c-come and try to set me on fire again?"
"Calm down, Luis." He said, scrubbing the plate in the sink furiously, "As your guardian, I'm not going to let him do that."
"Says the man who almost died yesterday!"
The water went hot, and he recoiled, hissing and dropping the plate in the water.
His hands tingle with pain, reminding him of the recent near death experience. "Are you out of your mind?!" He yelled, quickly wiping his hands with a towel, "If you keep doing these things, I'LL be the one setting you on fire!"
"Well then you shouldn't have gone and almost gotten yourself killed!" He said, "If Lou was here she'd-"
"She isn't."
"And it's your fault!"
He turned to him, sharply. His whole body still ached, from the heat exposure from a few days ago. The movement left him dizzy.
"It's not!" He screamed, "She decided to leave herself, and she left you with me! Says a lot about how much she cared about you!"
A plank hits him in the face. "Don't you dare imply she didn't care about me. She left you with me. Because she trusted me."
He rubbed his face, laughing quietly. "Keep telling yourself that. Nobody cares about you. Just as nobody cares about me. And yes, it's my fault, I'm sure of it." He laughed openly,
"Because you're a broken and unlikeable person!"
"Yeah, and you're a dirty, broken, and infested house!" He hissed, "I guess we're worth each-other!"
Luis' eye flashing through many expressions. Trying to come up with some snide remark, desperately, then trying to convince himself that nothing he said is true. Then… He shuts up.
He hurt his feelings? Good.
He should feel hurt.
The thunder rang out, cutting sharply through the rain's static. He stared at the sky, at the flash of light that followed the sound. Then, in a second, that flash of light was gone.
His spine disagreed with sitting on the floor, his back against the wall… He keeps forgetting to bring a chair next to the crib.
There is nothing to do, except for staring at the window on the other side of the room, or so he tells himself. He can't exactly unhand the child, or get some books here, while still keeping him in his arms, right?
He's afraid of lightning. At least he thinks he does. Is it a normal reaction, or does it remind him of the day he got him?
"It's not scary, see?" He said, quietly, blinking slowly at him.
The child- Joris, he reminded himself, responded with a cooing sort of noise.
"It's not scary when I'm with you, is it?" He asked, sweetly, looking back at the rain. It's been a couple of weeks. Sleepless and exhausting weeks. "You're safe with me."
He still hadn't decided what to do with the situation. His friends thought he was insane, and took every small meeting they had to pepper in the fact that a friend of a friend of a friend was looking to adopt a child. To add insult to injury.
He gets it. He's too old for this. He needs to think faster about it. Whatever.
He frowned, thinking about it. Joris just kept looking at him with interest, then at the window.
"We got a rough share in life, didn't we?" He asked him, not expecting any sort of an answer. "And nobody cares."
He looked at him, flinching from another lightning. He rocked him in his arms.
"I never told you this before, but I also don't have parents. Though, I was older than you when it happened." He mumbled, before letting out a laugh and adding, "...I kind of envy you. You won't remember what happened."
Joris replied, garbling some noises together, still looking at the window. He smiled in return. Finally someone wise to talk to.
"I don't know what to do with you… You know. I used to want kids. It was a pretty long time ago, but, uh, it… Didn't work out, in the end." His voice wavered a bit, "So you came about a bit too late. And… You probably wouldn't want an old wreck like me to take care of you anyway. But- But when I find a good family for you, I'll still try to be with you. I'd be a good uncle at least, wouldn't I?"
He pressed Joris softly to himself, curling tighter around him.
"I wish I could keep you, but I'm really not much good at anything… I'm not a father." He could feel tears prickling at his eyes, and Joris' confused and concerned stare, the whole situation so beyond his comprehension, "...You deserve better than all of this."
He sobs. Another thunder hits, and he can barely care, trying his best not to smother him in his embrace.
"You'd just- Grow up solving my problems, wouldn't you? And you'd hate how dirty it is because of Luis…" He said, pathetically, "And then- then, you'd just leave me, like everyone else does."
He looked at his face, so concerned and anxious.
"Sorry…" He said, softly, leaning away from him, back against the wall, "I'm a bit of a mess right now." He wiped his eyes with one free hand.
"I… We'd be happy, wouldn't we? Though- Though I shouldn't… I can't just… Abandon you? Like they want me to…" He hiccuped, trailing off, rubbing furiously at his eyes, "You'd never be unhappy or lonely like Atcham and I were. I wouldn't let you be alone…"
He took a few moments to breathe, and regain his composure
"You'll…" He breathed in, shakily. "I won't let anybody hurt you, ever."
…He traced his cheek with his hand, so careful with the claws, like he was his greatest and most delicate treasure- No, he was. He was his greatest treasure. Joris seemed to like the feel of his fur, letting it calm him down. He hated how little composure he had, letting himself scare him.
Then- Joris grabbed his finger, cooing, smiling a little. His throat was raw, trying not to cry again.
"I can't wait for us to be a family." He said, grasping his hand back, "I can't wait to get to know you, little Joris."
The cold wind danced with the green leaves, late summer's crisp air filling his lungs as he breathed. He simply took it all in, staring at the blue sky and the trees.
Content. At peace. He couldn't help but purr, laying on the picnic blanket next to Joris.
This was a spot he and Lou frequented when they lived in Bonta. It's nice that he actually got some use out of it again. Though this picnic involved decidedly less wine than the ones shared with her, because no matter how okay he was with drinking in front of him, they'd still have to go back home. Somehow. Despite the amount of food they gorged on, which was probably going to be a bigger issue than the barely noticeable buzz of alcohol in the back of his head.
…He thinks it's better with Joris, in a way.
He closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't drift off to sleep that easily.
"Papycha…"
His eyes opened, stopping purring. He couldn't quite identify the tone he said it in.
"Hmm?" He hummed, turning to him.
"…Can we make a pinky promise?" He said, thoughtful.
"What for?"
"Uh…" He turned away. "Can I tell you afterwards?"
He laughed, confused, "Rule number one of making deals is knowing what they're about. You have to know about this, you're going to help me run the store when you're older."
Joris sat down, looking over the picturesque field, as he sighed, shakily.
Kerubim's eyes followed the trees' shadows moving on his hood and shoulders, wondering what expression he wore, still laying down.
He didn't mind the way he loomed over him, when looking from below.
"Well, I keep thinking about the conversation we had." He mumbled, "About my grandparents, uncles, and aunts."
His throat went dry, as he sat up. "Y-yeah? What about it?"
"I don't know. I-I think it makes me really sad." He mumbled, pressing close to him, "And scared."
"That I'm going to…?"
Did he finally tell him too much?
"N-no?" He said, looking up at him, "Not entirely at least…"
"Then what is it?" He asked, carefully, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He shook like a leaf, before suddenly throwing himself in a hug, "I just keep thinking about how scared and lonely you must have been back then, and- and- I'd always be sad if you died, or if my friends left me-" He said, choking up, "I really don't want you to be sad, I really want you to be happy, but I know you don't have anybody except for me, and…" He trailed off, arms in a lock around him.
Kerubim awkwardly wrapped his arms around him, before pressing him close, hiding his face in his hood.
"I'm sorry I make you worry so much…" He murmured. He had no idea what to say. "I really don't want you to worry about me so much. I can take care of myself, Jojo…"
"...I want to be worried about you." He said, pathetically, "You're my dad."
He shook, breathing in shakily, as his eyes burned.
Joris continued, breaking from the hug, "So I want us to make a pinky promise. That we'll always be there for each other."
"You don't need a promise from me for that, Joris-" He said, before realizing. Looking at his worried, and nervous face.
Oh. It's…
For him.
He swallowed.
"I already know you'll always be with me," He said, wiping his eyes, matter of fact. "But I want to promise that you'll never be alone too!"
Would he still feel this way if he knew about Julith and Jahash?
"Joris, I'm not alone anymore." He tried to resist, putting on a smile, "I don't need any promises to know you'll never leave me…"
Did he?
"Well, I know you want me to go out on my own, but you're old, a-and, I'm not just leaving you alone," He said, looking around, toying with his hands nervously, "I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. We'll go on adventures together, a-and when you're too old to do so, I'll stay at home, just like now!"
He seemed to underestimate just how old he is. Even if he hadn't changed at all in the past ten or twenty years, he doubted his downright miraculous health would keep for another decade.
"I don't want you to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. You'll have a family, or someone you love-"
"I already have a family! I wouldn't be stuck. I want to be with you." He said, with conviction, "And- Luis will need someone too, right? I don't want him to be mean to you…"
He sighed, unsure. "A-alright. We'll… Make a promise, I suppose," He was just playing along for him. "But only if you promise that you won't be forcing yourself to stay with me. A promise is not an oath, and you can… call it off." It didn't mean anything. Really. He outstretched his trembling hand, one pinky out.
He stretched out his hand, hooking his pinky around his.
"Wouldn't dream of it. We'll always be together." He giggled, before saying with grim, and utterly childish seriousness.
Joris looks him in the eyes.
"I promise."
