Fox awoke.
The presence pulling at his mind was gentle, and small. Tender too. He sighed and smiled. It was a tired smile all newly-minted fathers were bound to give for many years, but it was still a smile. The cause of it was the little miracle that had entered his and Krystal's life only some months before.
Krystal was still asleep next to him. She had rolled over on her side during her sleep. Though she faced away from him, her tail was resting on his feet under the covers, acting as the best foot warmer in the galaxy. Very carefully, he got up from the bed, shivering once. It was a cold night on Corneria, despite his home's heating putting in work. He grabbed a robe and carefully opened his bedroom door and stepped out into the hall.
All was quiet in the McCloud home, this early Christmas morning. Out of the windows Fox could see snow falling. He smiled. Marcus's first Christmas would be a white one. That alone made Fox feel giddy. There was also the cozy feeling of being snug and safe inside with frightful weather outside. He padded along in his slippers to the nursery, pondering how many feet of snow they might receive by the end of this little storm.
He passed by photos on the wall. One of them was a wedding photo, one of many. His and Krystal's wedding had been an intimate, quite affair, open only to close friends. Fox found this a little funny, even now. His friends all commented how they needed a big get-together for when they tied the knot; all of them played a little bit of matchmaker here and there between him and Krys over the years, so happy they were with Fox's luck at finding someone like her. But no, it was a small and lovely thing, getting married on a beach with a honeymoon to—where else?—Sauria. They both fell over laughing when Tricky's response at seeing their ship land and the two of them walk out paw-in-paw was, "Well, what took you two so long?"
Fox found the door to the nursery, and opened it.
At the center of the room, in a crib and squirming gently but still sleeping, was Marcus. The baby boy's fur was a lighter shade of blue compared to his mother, and the white strip along his headfur was of course a gift from his father. Fox walked up to the crib and took the child in his arms, and immediately that small mental tug at his mind ceased. Marcus's powers were already forming, and Krystal was eager for the day when she would begin training him in controlling his gift, but for now his mind was a small and gentle thing, reaching out to the world around it; even now, it instinctively knew where his mother and father were.
Fox walked to the window. Holding his child in his arms, he remembered that first time he held Marcus.
The doctors led him into Krystal's room, patting his back with happy and relieved congratulations. Krystal was there on the bed, tired, sweating, her breathing labored. But the look in her eyes as she held that small boy in her arms was something that "happiness" or "relief" or "love" failed to fully capture.
"Look at him, Fox," she whispered.
He was a sleepy boy, dozing. Fox's voice failed him. He felt close to his father in that moment; was this how he felt when he saw Fox for the first time, in his mother's arms?
Krystal smiled.
"Hold him," she said.
Fox did so.
Until the day he died Fox would remember holding Marcus in his arms, that day. It was the moment that made him fully understand, more than the day when Krystal cried tears of joy in his arms with the pregnancy test in one paw, that he was now a father. He was changed. The whole world was different now. It was not just him and Krystal together in their own life. Now, it was this little boy, Marcus, too. The enormity of that shook him, but not with fear. He felt a deep love, and commitment.
He would cherish all of this.
Now, here they were. Fox yawned tiredly, and idly rubbed Marcus' headfur. He held his paw out to the baby, and he smiled again as Marcus reached out in his sleep and gripped a finger.
"Strong grip already," he said.
More snow was falling steadily now. The woods outside their home would look beautiful in the morning.
"There you are," said a soft voice behind him. Krystal's.
And there she was, wrapped in her robe and walking to his side. She was smiling tiredly too, and her bedhead hair gave her a cute look. At his side, she leaned against him, and peered down at their son.
"He's very peaceful now," said Krystal. She stroked Marcus's hair.
"He's got a curious little head, feeling around like that," said Fox. "Raising a telepath is going to be an adventure."
"That it will," said Krystal. "To think I will have a chance to teach my own little one…I still marvel at it."
Fox smiled. Seeing his wife so happy…there wasn't much better. There they were, three figures huddled together in a cozy home, Christmas morning, and all was right in the world in this moment.
"Merry Christmas, Krystal," he said. "And to you too, little guy."
"Merry Christmas," said Krystal. "By the way, Fox? Look up."
Doing so, Fox saw a small piece of mistletoe right above where they were standing, hanging on a string from the ceiling. He looked at Krystal, amused.
"Clever girl," he said. "Are you sure Cerinian vixen's don't have the ability to sense the best spots to put those?"
"Whatever do you mean, Fox?" she said, tilting her head to the side and smirking lovingly. "I'm just a few steps ahead of you, is all."
So she was. They kissed, and went back to watching the snow, and doting over their little one.