Another completely new bit of DCU family fluff that did not exist in the original copy. Because I'm so exhausted and discouraged with Bloodline rn I just keep circling back to this.
Chapter 6: Identity Crisis
It got easier.
Three months flew by in what felt like a second. Neither Mika nor Kurda ever actually felt like they were getting better at fake-parenting, but they were. It happened in such small increments they barely even noticed.
Then one day, Mika realized not only had he progressed to the point where he could change a defiled diaper without gagging, he could do it one-handed with his eyes closed. He still loathed the task and found an excuse to make it Kurda's problem whenever possible. But when he had to do it himself, he operated at peak efficiency. In fact, he was a pro at all of it. Changing, dressing, feeding, cuddling. All the hands-on stuff he found so nerve-wracking during the first few weeks. Suddenly it was second-nature and he couldn't believe he'd ever doubted himself.
Around the same time, Kurda realized he'd learned to function on practically no sleep. It wasn't that Kurda slept more than the average person to begin with, but he prided himself on maintaining a set of somewhat healthy habits. He respected his body as best he could, which included having a reasonable sleeping schedule. (Hell, he even ate a vegetable every now and then). But sweet Gracie didn't give a flying fuck that Kurda treated his mind and body as a temple. When she was awake, he was awake. And Kurda was alone with her at least three nights a week when Mika took the solo shift in the Hall of Princes while the rest of the mountain slept.
Kurda was good at a lot of things. He was just as organized and responsible as Mika. He was more creative and resourceful than Mika. And he was definitely better at reading bedtime stories than Mika. (Mika's totally literate - he just doesn't like doing the goofy voices and sound effects, that's all).
But unlike Mika, Kurda was not built to run on no sleep. And in those first few months, he suffered greatly until his body began to adjust to it's new normal - albeit begrudgingly. But there were multiple stretches of time where Kurda couldn't recall where he'd been or what he'd been doing, because he was that tired.
Mika entered the world of fake-parenting with a built-in advantage: his sleep schedule was already garbage (and it had been garbage since before Gracie's grandparents existed) so being up at stupid hours wasn't an adjustment for him. Mika was naturally a compulsive work-addicted insomniac. Whenever he couldn't sleep he just found other things to do instead, eschewing sleep entirely until his body literally gave up. Which wasn't healthy by anyone's standards, but it also wasn't Kurda's problem as long Mika kept up his end of the deal, successfully balancing the Prince Stuff with Fake Dad Stuff. So Kurda stayed in his own lane. And that was that.
Halfway through the second month, they got a lead on a potential real home for Gracie. It came from a General who visited Vampire Mountain to deliver a report to the Princes. Unlike most vampires, he'd kept in contact with his human family after joining the clan. Not exactly recommended, but not illegal either. His immediate family had aged and died since he became a vampire, but he had a wealthy great niece in northern Italy who lived in a large house with ten children (at last count, anyway). A few were biological but many were adopted. And even more were fosters. Mika and Kurda agreed it was worth looking into. They also agreed they'd run through reconnaissance before leaving Gracie anywhere. So they left Gracie in Arrow's doting hands for several days, and flitted to check the place out.
They started out optimistic. The house was beautiful and the lawns were well-manicured. They spent a couple of nights spying, as they had at the dismal orphanage.
They wanted it to be a perfect home. They wanted it so badly. The city was clean and safe, and it was only a day's flit from the mountain. The parents had plenty of money - and as Kurda said, money doesn't necessarily buy happiness but it sure as hell buys food. The home had potential. And they got their hopes up. But the more they observed, the more discouraged they both became. The kids were well-fed and had more toys than they knew what to do with. But the parents seemed to think that was a suitable replacement for attention. They were rarely home, leaving the children to self-govern. It was like watching a suburban re-imaging of Lord Of The Flies.
They didn't give up right away. Kurda saw the full cupboards, big yard, and shelves of books, and he remained optimistic longer than Mika did. He wanted Gracie to have the comforts he never knew himself. But Mika saw the father park his car and walk into the house while yelling at someone on his cellphone, not even pausing to look at the little boy who'd just crashed his scooter and was crying on the pavement.
That was all Mika needed to see. They set a course back to Vampire Mountain and never looked back. Neither of them knew what a perfect childhood looked like. But both of them knew what it didn't.
The Smahlts were penniless. Kurda is proof that maybe you actually can live on love alone. For someone who grew up with nothing, he seemed to have endless happy stories and fond anecdotes from his childhood. His parents and their eight children made the best of the shitty hand life dealt them. He loved his human family so much it hurt. But he couldn't pretend there was no lasting damage from years of worrying about things no child should have to worry about.
The Ver Leths lived in a castle. Unlike Kurda, Mika always had plenty to eat, new clothes, and good education. What he didn't have was a gods-damned hug every now and then. The youngest of six unsympathetic brothers, all of whom had to fight tooth and nail for so much as a scrap of acknowledgement from their parents. That cozy family dynamic is the reason Mika's still emotionally stunted and viciously competitive at the age of 260.
One of the few things Mika and Kurda agreed on was that Gracie deserved both unconditional love and material security, because neither of them knew what it felt like to have all that at once. What they did know was they wouldn't settle until Gracie had what they never did - the best of both worlds.
Three months to the day Gracie came back to Vampire Mountain for the first time, Mika found something new to worry about. Out of nowhere, Mika got it in his head that Gracie should probably be talking at this point, and her lack of talking was a result of vampire-induced trauma as opposed to the possibility that she simply didn't know any words yet.
Kurda was in his portion of the three-room suite he'd recently begun sharing with Mika and Gracie. He'd just finished a conference, and was occupied with writing a polished summary of his meeting notes while it was all still fresh in his mind. Mika was preparing to head down to the Hall of Princes to start his own work day, but first he was having a few words with Gracie. Although he seemed to be doing most of the talking.
"You can do it, Gracie. Just two syllables." Kurda heard Mika say, with very earnest encouragement. "Then you can have the second cookie. Just say Mika. Mi-ka."
Kurda ambled over and crossed his arms as he observed them for a second. Mika looked so determined, and a touch worried. Gracie clearly had no interest in the task at hand. The more Mika tried to coax her into talking, the more she giggled at him.
"She'll talk when she's ready." Kurda commented. "You need to relax."
Mika whipped around sharply. Cue the scalding death glare in 3… 2… 1…
"Do I? Arrow said she looks roughly one year old." Said Mika frostily. "And he said babies usually start talking at roughly one year old, so obviously -"
"With all due respect, I'm really struggling with accepting Uncle Arrow as the authority on this." Kurda remarked. He kept his cool, knowing he needed to pace himself. It was barely 7 and Mika had been at this for half an hour.
"That's still Sire Uncle Arrow to you." Mika grunted, looking up from his desk upon which Gracie had been sitting. He was in his chair at eye level with her, and had been trying valiantly to negotiate her into articulating his name. "And Sire Uncle Arrow successfully raised five whole kids. How many have you raised?"
"All seven of my siblings, remember? And I did it between the ages of five and eighteen." Kurda shot back.
"Gods, you're such a martyr." Said Mika, rolling his steely grey eyes.
"You asked."
"She might've already said her first words before we ever found her." Mika added. "We'd have no way of knowing." But he seemed to have lost interest in arguing with Kurda, turning back around to tickle Gracie's belly instead.
"If she knew how to talk, she'd talk!" Kurda replied lightly, finding himself smiling. He had to admit, nothing lifted their individual moods like the sound of that kid's laughter.
"You don't know that!" Mika muttered.
Kurda sighed.
"I don't understand your thought process, Mika. Why are you consciously choosing to stress yourself out over this? Make it make sense."
Mika sighed too. Louder and more emphatically, like he was trying to one-up Kurda.
"What if she's... you know. Traumatized? And that's why she won't talk?" Mika hypothesized. He glanced back at Kurda, and the way his brow was furrowed with genuine worry made Kurda think twice about uttering a lippy retort.
"She's not traumatized!" Kurda insisted. "She's the happiest kid I've ever seen. Look how she's smiling at you!"
"That's because she knows I have a cookie in my pocket!" Said Mika. It seemed he'd firmly made up his mind that this was something that required intensive concern on his part, regardless of how Kurda or Gracie felt about it.
"She'll talk when she's ready. Find something else to worry about." Said Kurda with finality. Then he scooped Gracie up off Mika's desk and peppered her cheek with kisses as she giggled shrilly in his ear.
"She almost had it!" Mika protested. "Give her back. She was about to say my name before you interrupted."
Kurda shot Mika a politely stern look as he rocked Gracie in his arms.
"Don't you have a job to get to?" The blond General deadpanned. "Also, do you really think she needs to be calling us by our first names when she's ready to talk?"
"If you think you can teach her to say Sire Ver Leth, by all means."
"Gods, you're a pill. I was thinking we should go with the obvious. You know…Dad." Kurda clarified, arching an eyebrow. Mika's face darkened immediately.
"We aren't her dads. She had a real dad. Remember?" He growled, storm clouds rolling into his eyes. "He was there on the floor with the rest of them and I will never fucking un-see that. He's dead because we didn't stop that vampaneze. We're the last people she should be calling dad."
Kurda sighed again. This time with empathy rather than exasperation, because he was well aware of the fact that Mika was still severely hung up on the circumstances that led to Gracie crossing paths with them - and his personal role in it.
"You can beat yourself to death over it again and again, but it won't change anything. If you feel that strongly about it, she doesn't have to call us dad. But we're still all she has for now." Said Kurda.
Mika glared, but managed a stiff nod.
"Now go up to the Hall of Princes and sit in your special chair." Kurda added. "I've had a long day and you're bringing down the mood."
"Don't tell me what to do." Mika grunted. But he stood up from his desk, grabbing a handful of notes along with his trusty schedule.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Kurda called to Mika's retreating back as he headed for the door. Mika rolled his eyes as he turned back around, but he was smiling. Not at Kurda of course, but smiling just the same. Kurda held Gracie up so Mika could give her a quick kiss on the forehead.
"See you later, Princess." He told her softly. "Give Kurda a hard time for me."
"Stop calling her Princess." Kurda scolded his retreating back. "She's going to end up with an ego complex."
Mika shot Kurda one final death glare before leaving the room.
Sitting alone in the Hall of Princes while the mountain slept was never a coveted task, but Mika enjoyed it more than the majority of his colleagues and predecessors. The vast, glowing room was his favourite place in the world. Countless decades of blood, sweat, and tears had gone into securing this throne for himself. So he could definitely think of worse things than sitting here in solitude.
He'd just started drafting a list of repairs and renovations he wanted to see completed in time for the next Vampire Council, just shy of two years away. He'd run the list by the rest of the Princes to see if they had anything to add, then the final copy would be submitted to Seba and his staff.
About three hours in, the familiar sound of the Door Guard's staff pulled Mika's focus away from his list. Someone wanted to speak with him. Although he had no idea who the fuck could possibly need anything from him at this hour. He laid his palm on the magic panel built into the armrest of his throne. He'd been doing this almost eighty years now, and it still amazed him every time how the massive entryway slid open at the touch of his hand. Mika really loved his job.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't keep the smile off his face as he identified his visitors. Kurda was making his way up the long aisle, with Gracie perched in his arms. She waved her arms when she saw Mika.
"Missed me, Smahlt?" Said Mika once they were within earshot.
Kurda rolled his eyes right back at Mika, not phased in the slightest. Even before Gracie he'd never been quite as intimidated by Mika as his peers were. And now that they were co-parents, Kurda took him less seriously than ever.
"I was thoroughly enjoying a break from you, actually." Said Kurda drily. "Princess Grace had other plans. She's decided we're not doing sleep tonight. Thought I'd send her to work with you since she's so determined to be industrious."
"Oh, so you've decided you're fine with her having an ego complex after all?" Mika snorted. Princess was specifically Mika's term of endearment for the little girl. And despite what Kurda thought, Mika was not trying to hardwire a sense of entitlement into the kid - it wasn't that deep. It was simply the word that automatically came out of his mouth when he looked at her. He'd never heard Kurda use the nickname before, though.
"I've tried everything. I read her every book on the shelf, gave her a warm bath, a snack, and then I tickled her til she laughed so hard she fell over." Kurda summarized as he climbed the short flight of stairs up to the throne platform. "And when that didn't work, I started reading her your notes from the annual General review. If that didn't put her to sleep, I don't know what will."
Mika narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"You know who's not supposed to read the notes from the annual General review? The Generals."
Kurda plunked the wide-awake Gracie into Mika's lap, freeing up his hands so he could wave dismissively.
"There wasn't anything in there I didn't already know. Sails, Azerion, and Purl are top of the class. Warwent and McCallan are on thin ice. Barclay, Akimov, and Hale are the up-and-comers to watch." Kurda recounted. "And according to my file I have excellent people skills but my combat skills are just adequate. Not sure what you expected there."
"You can't just read my documents. That's technically treason." Mika protested.
"I could've told you all that without even reading it. And you know I'd never look at anything really confidential. May I?" Kurda gestured vaguely at the empty throne next to Mika, which belonged to Paris.
"Not a chance in hell." Said Mika without hesitation. "And the next time you lay a finger on my paperwork, there'll be-"
"Consequences?" Kurda laughed breezily. "What are you going to do, Sire? Drop me on the stakes? Who's going to split diaper duty with you after I'm gone? Please."
"Arrow, obviously. And can you, for once, pretend to take me seriously?" Mika growled. "I've seen you in a negotiation. I know you're a good enough actor to fake a bit of respect every now and then."
"I do respect you, Mika. We'll never be best of friends, but I'll go on record stating I have complete respect for you." Said Kurda, unable to stifle a fond chuckle. "It's just hard to cower at your death threats when you have a toddler groping your face."
"I thought you were going to trim her fingernails." Said Mika as he gently nudged Gracie's little hands away from his eyes. Those chubby digits were her main tool for exploring the world around her, and she really liked feeling up the face of whoever happened to be holding her. In this instance, she'd been getting too friendly with Mika's left eyeball.
"I trimmed them last week. They grow fast." Said Kurda.
"Whatever." Mika grunted. But he was no longer interested in admonishing Kurda. The awestruck expression in Gracie's wide eyes as she looked around the glowing room was much more worthy of his attention. "Anyway, you're free to go. I'm fine with keeping her for the night. I don't have any pressing business, and she always seems to fall asleep quicker in this room. We can switch off tomorrow evening when I go tutor Vanez's elite training group." Mika added. He was smiling absentmindedly as Gracie chewed on the hem of his shirt. But when he glanced back up at Kurda, he was surprised to see the blond General looking perturbed, arms crossed defiantly across his slender chest.
"I didn't come here to pawn her off on you and leave!" Kurda protested. "I haven't seen her all day! I just thought she could use a change of scenery." But then his expression softened. "And you're right, she likes it in here."
"Must be the light." Said Mika, shrugging again. "It's strange, I can't even fall asleep in my own coffin half the time. But I can always sleep in here."
"I was going to say she missed you." Said Kurda. "But you're right, it's probably the light."
Kurda began to sit down on the floor, a few feet away from Mika's throne. Mika rolled his eyes and let out a heavily dramatized sigh.
"Are you seriously going to sit on the floor like a degenerate? Come on, Smahlt. You're embarrassing yourself."
"You've made it pretty clear I don't get throne privileges."
"Of course you don't get throne privileges. Just come in here."
Mika got up and stalked into the small meeting room behind the thrones. It served as a place where the Princes could gather privately while still remaining in the Hall. Kurda followed him somewhat hesitantly. He'd been in the room plenty of times, but always on official business.
There was a long wooden table in the middle of the room, surrounded by ornately carved wooden chairs. Mika pulled out two of the chairs, and Kurda knew better than to think one was meant for him. He'd been around Mika enough to know that one chair was for Mika's ass, and the other was for his feet. Kurda took a seat on the chair next to the one serving as Mika's footrest.
There were a few bottles - liquor, blood, water - and a handful of glasses sitting on a handsome wooden tray at the centre of the table. Mika reached casually for a glass and Kurda dead-eyed him pointedly.
"What did I do now?" Mika grunted, pausing at Kurda's expression.
"Are you really going to start drinking while you're holding her?" Said Kurda shrewdly. Mika rolled his eyes.
"Shove the judgement up your ass. I was reaching for the water."
"Sorry." Said Kurda, looking away from Mika. Clearly he was a little embarrassed. "I shouldn't have assumed."
"I don't drink when I'm holding her." Mika growled defensively. "Liquor or blood."
Kurda's face assumed a strange look as Mika said that, a blend of surprise and interest.
"What?" Mika pried, arching an eyebrow expectantly.
"You already know I'm not much for liquor, but I don't drink blood when she's with me either." Said Kurda. He was gazing intently back at Mika now. "I know it's not inherently bad, but it feels wrong somehow."
Mika nodded understandingly. When he spoke again, the irritation had completely disappeared from his voice.
"That was my thought process too." He admitted. "We chose our lifestyle long ago. It is what it is. But she doesn't need to be in close proximity to… certain things."
They held each other's gaze for a few more moments, before looking down at Gracie. They shared a laugh over the way she was crawling towards Kurda, using Mika's outstretched legs as a bridge to work her way from his lap, to his designated footrest chair, and finally back to Kurda's arms. They both watched her closely as she made the trek, silently allowing her the little adventure while prepared to catch her at a moment's notice if she slipped.
"She misses you too, when you're not around." Said Mika matter-of-factly. "Don't let it go to your head though. I've seen her eat a dead moth so her judgement leaves something to be desired. But she's happier when you're there."
Kurda tried to focus on the compliment that was buried in there, but what came out of his mouth was,
"You let her eat a dead moth?"
"Of course I didn't let her eat a dead moth! You know how fast her hands are. I couldn't get there in time. It's good for her immune system anyway."
Kurda groaned in exasperation, but couldn't maintain his frustration at Mika when Gracie was pulling his hair so aggressively. She loved Kurda's platinum locks. And unlike Mika's, it was long enough to grab.
"Be gentle, sweetie." Kurda chided her softly. "Do you want me to end up bald like Uncle Arrow?"
It was a little funny how neither Mika nor Kurda were totally comfortable wearing the title of dad just yet. Three months in, and Kurda was only just beginning to think in that direction, while Mika was still mentally stuck in the night they found her. Yet Arrow had been Uncle Arrow since day one.
Mika let out a snort of laughter at the mental image of a bald Kurda strolling around Vampire Mountain. And Kurda must've been really sleep deprived, because he laughed too.
Maybe it was the late hour, or the way it still felt surreal having her here. But it happened as Gracie was snuggled contentedly in Kurda's arms, one of her hands still gripping his hair and the other hand reaching out in Mika's direction. Mika shifted in his chair to lean closer to them, just enough so Gracie could wrap her hand around his index finger when he reached out to her. She had both of them where she wanted them, but she wasn't looking at either of them in particular when the word came out of her mouth.
"Dah!"
Mika instantly felt his chest tighten as that simple, innocent syllable hit home. His eyes locked on Kurda's, and those ocean blues contained just as much disbelief as Mika's.
"Did... did you teach her to say that?" Mika croaked. "That's not funny, Kurda."
"What? No! Of course not!" Said Kurda, shaking his head firmly. "You were the one who was hell-bent on getting her talking, not me."
"How would she even know that word?"
"It might not have been that word." Kurda reasoned. "She makes random sounds all the time."
"You and I both know that's not the case." Said Mika.
"Well, she obviously would have heard it with her human family. At her age, they were probably just starting to encourage her to say little words like that, before they… passed away. I suppose she's associated certain words with us." Kurda was fighting to stay calm, meanwhile Mika was losing the same fight. He nodded as Kurda spoke, but he felt the blood draining from his face.
"If it makes you feel better, clearly she directed it at both of us. At least she doesn't play favorites." Kurda added after a moment, with a halfhearted little chuckle. A failed attempt to lighten the mood.
"I have no fucking business being somebody's dad." Mika forced out, loathing the way his throat was constricting as the intrusive memory of the slaughtered human family surfaced in his mind yet again.
"You think I do?!"
"You're a pacifist!"
"What does that have to do with anything?!"
"You know what I mean, Smahlt! Your whole identity is do no harm, kill'em with kindness, make love not war, hugs not drugs-"
"Now you're just making things up. I have never, ever said hugs not drugs." Kurda interjected, arching an eyebrow. Mika ignored him.
"And my whole identity is Sire Ver Leth, remember?" Mika continued with a bitter laugh. It didn't match the sudden shade of sadness in his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I'm proud to bear that title. And I know I'm a good vampire. But she… fuck, she's completely innocent! She's human! And I have almost three centuries' worth of blood on my hands from more people than I could ever count. She shouldn't even be near me, much less call me dad."
Kurda inhaled slowly, held it for a moment, then let it out as he absorbed all that. As he sat contemplatively, he gently twirled a wisp of Gracie's hair between his fingers while she cooed nonsense at him. A few feet away, Mika rubbed his temples contemplatively. And Kurda watched him for a minute or two.
One of the most surprising components of Mika's personality was how easily he could get into his own head and inflict unnecessary stress upon himself. It was something Kurda never would have picked up on, if not for Gracie routinely forcing them into each other's personal space. Mika was always the chill Prince. Notoriously moody? Sure. Blunt? Definitely. But when push came to shove, he was far more level-headed than Arrow or Vancha. That was the only side of him Kurda had ever known, until very recently.
"Are you done?" Kurda split the silence at last. Mika looked up at him, glaring through narrow, tired eyes.
"What?"
"I said, are you done?" Kurda repeated calmly. "Or do you need a few more minutes to wallow in angst before we accept that she's already decided we are her dads? Take your time. I'm ready when you are."
"Sounds like you've already accepted it." Mika muttered, shooting Kurda a reproachful look. "If you're going to sit here and be condescending, just get out. I don't need this right now."
"That's the thing, Mika. It doesn't matter what you need. But you already know that, don't you?" Kurda continued determinedly. "I've seen you drop everything for her. You've pulled strings I didn't even know existed, just to make sure her needs are met. No matter what label we put on it, we're already playing the part. If she sees any of her true parents in us, I'm honoured."
Mika sighed again. This time with less exasperation and more hopelessness.
"How are you handling this so well?" He groaned.
"I'm a pacifist in a clan that values brawn and bloodshed over all. I dream of things some of my clanmates think I should be killed for." Kurda chuckled. "Unlike you, I'm well accustomed to not feeling in control. So I'm focusing on what I can do, because it's all I know. We can't change her past, and to agonize over it is a waste of energy."
Mika rubbed his temples wearily, and exhaled long and slow. Elbows resting on the table and his face in his hands, he glanced sideways at Kurda.
"I just feel so fucking guilty." Said Mika at last, his voice a strained, gravelly rasp. It was the most raw honesty he'd ever shown Kurda.
Kurda held his gaze and didn't flinch.
"So do I. I know you still have nightmares about the scene in that house, and you're not the only one." Kurda replied calmly. "But I've chosen to channel it into protecting her future. Once you do the same, you'll feel so much better. I promise."
Mika kept his eyes on Kurda for a few moments, his face stubborn and impassive. Finally, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair in defeat.
"Okay. I'm done wallowing. Now give her back."
"Perfect." Said Kurda lightly as he passed Gracie over, trying not to laugh because Mika clearly hadn't smelled the smell yet. "Just in time to change her diaper."
Then Mika recoiled, cringing as the smell reached him.
"Fuck, never mind. I need more wallow time."
"No take-backs! Now show that dirty diaper who runs this mountain."
Gracie stubbornly fought sleep for another hour and a half, but she finally lost the battle in Kurda's arms.
The three of them had been sitting on the front pew at that point. Gracie was scribbling on some parchment paper with handfuls of crayons while Kurda sat beside her and attempted to teach her the basic shapes and colours. Mika sat on the other side. He had some official documents in his hands which he was reviewing. Admittedly he was much more interested in observing Gracie's very loose interpretations of the circles and squares Kurda was drawing in the margins of the paper.
Finally, she abandoned the crayons, yawned and started to sway back and forth. Kurda scooped her up and within minutes she was fast asleep. Kurda didn't want to risk her waking up on the walk back up to their room, so he simply lay down on the pew and held her while she slept on his chest. And within minutes, he was asleep too.
Mika had every intention of relocating back to the desk in the meeting room and getting some actual work done while Gracie and Kurda slept, but apparently he blinked at the wrong moment. The next thing he knew it was five hours later and his back hurt from sleeping upright on the hard wooden pew. Gracie had climbed into his lap and was once again trying to stick her fingers in his eyeballs, while serenading both him and Kurda with a resounding chorus of "Dah! Dah!"
And all Mika could think was how it was the best wake-up call he'd ever gotten.