Kaden's eyes shoot open, being jostled awake as he feels the ship land from his long flight, panicking for a split-second that he was somehow intercepted by Tachyon's forces, that he and Kipler and his people are doomed because he was stupid enough to try and sleep, because stars forbid a man tries to get some rest after watching his wife die in his—
"We have arrived at your destination." The ship's autopilot announces differently.
Kaden freezes for a moment at the announcement, but then gives a long, quiet groan as he rubs his eyes, trying to ease his racing heart at the scare, already knowing how hellish the next few days of his life were going to be when a ship landing is enough to trigger his flight-or-flight response.
But as he removes his hand from his eyes, he looks down to find Kipler peacefully sleeping in his arm, swaddled up in a blanket. He dimly remembers promising himself to not fall asleep on the way here, wanting to spend as much time as possible with his son, but clearly his mind and body weren't resilient enough after… Well… Everything.
Kaden then looks up and out of the ship's window, seeing a large but worn building a few yards away from the ship. He could see rough patchwork that's kept it standing for however long this place has been here, from scrap metal hastily welded onto the roof and walls, to mismatched paintjobs chipping away from the parts that weren't repaired already.
It was the middle of the night, but he could make out the weathered sign that was plastered above the door, illuminated by a dingy lightbulb above it that read, "Ms. Perigee's Home for Lost Children."
He stares at the sign for a few seconds as he takes a deep, shaky breath.
This was it.
He opens the cockpit, finding that the night air was pretty warm, similar to Fastoon's. A common theme among desert planets. He steps out of the ship, very mindful to not wake Kipler in his arms, and a stray breeze ruffles his fur, also rolling a tumbleweed across the arid ground before disappearing into the darkness once more, a small dust cloud following it. Veldin seemed drier than the logs made it out to be.
He turns around and reaches into the passenger seat to produce a small basket that he scavenged from the front window of a demolished shop back on Fastoon, when he went to find this ship to leave. He holds it by the handle with one hand while continuing to swaddle Kipler in the other, and turns back around to face his son's new home.
…
It was very quiet out.
Not really a surprise given how late it was, and in such a relatively rural civilization at that, but it unnerved Kaden nonetheless. He wished that there was something, anything for him to listen to in an effort to distract his mind from this loathsome task he's carrying out now, but he was offered no such respite. The universe really was a cruel place if it isn't even merciful enough to give him a steady wind to rustle the sand after it took his wife away from him.
Instead, all he could do was focus on the sound of his reluctant footsteps as he crosses the dirt road in front of him, hearing the particles of sand and dirt crunching and grinding underneath his boots.
His breathing was a little louder than usual, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes, making the back of his throat burn. It was almost funny how his breathing was opposite to his son's, whose breaths were light, almost inaudible, even in the chilling silence. Kaden would've thought he was simply dead if he couldn't feel his little chest rising and falling as he carried him.
He stops as he reaches the plain metal door of the orphanage.
At first, he does nothing. Only staring blankly at it as he desperately, feverishly tries to find another solution, almost as if he was expecting the door to grow a mouth and utter magical words that will fix everything and give him a happy ending.
But the door doesn't tell him anything. It was pointless. If there was a better option, he would've found it after the painfully long flight here, almost entirely spent staring at his son.
This was the only way he could guarantee Kipler's safety, like he promised Marie.
He takes a deep, very shaky breath, and sets the basket down on the concrete doorstep. He looks back down at Kipler in his arm for a moment, and crouches down to gently place him in the basket, doing his absolute best to stir him as little as possible.
And as Kipler rests in the basket, still snoozing away in silence, all coddled up in his blanket, Kaden makes zero effort to stand back up, still gazing at him. He feels warm tears begin to fall down his cheeks, but he still manages to suppress any cries that are trying their damndest to escape his throat.
He only half-succeeds, however, as his next breath becomes a hitch, nearly hiccupping as he places a hand over his eyes, rubbing them in a poor attempt to wipe away the tears.
He was thankful that Kipler was asleep. It'll make this easier, he tries to tell himself, knowing that he wouldn't have those innocent, curious green eyes watch his father walk away for the last time, not understanding what was happening, nor would he ever.
On the way here, Kaden was tempted to write a note, a letter for his son, so that he could at least understand why his life had to be the way it was. But as he began to find the words, he realized that it was pointless.
He didn't know how to write fluently in another language, only Lombax, which Kipler wouldn't be able to understand. And even if he did leave the note, Kipler would no doubt try to decipher it as he grows up, bringing unwanted attention to himself, and, in the worst-case scenario, he goes to Fastoon for answers, where Tachyon is most likely operating.
Bringing his hand down from his eyes, feeling relatively more calmed down (which was barely at all), Kaden stares at his son again, not tempting to move at all for many seconds.
But then… He takes a deep breath, and shifts from his crouching position to instead sit down on the doorstep next to the basket, resting his arms on his knees as he stares at the ground.
"I'm… I'm sorry it had to be this way, Kipler. I'm so sorry." Kaden speaks softly, shoving down the sobs in the back of his throat. "But thanks to your Uncle Alister… This is your life, now. Our life. You'll have to grow up without a mom… Or a dad. I wish I could tell you why, but I can't. Not in a way you'll remember, anyway. You're not even hearing me right now, anyway, since you're sleeping."
He glances over to Kipler, confirming his statement, but then picks his head up to instead start to gaze back out to the view before him.
This orphanage was located a good distance away from the nearest city, but not far enough that Kaden couldn't see the hazy fog of the lights shining from it in the distance, among all the plateaus and buttes of the desert landscape in front of him. Even from here, though, he could see it was relatively small compared to the cities he was used to.
"I hope you don't mind Veldin. I figured that it has so little going for it, that it wouldn't ever pop up on Tachyon's radar for places to look." Kaden says, blankly staring at the city. "I hear smaller civilizations like this tend to have nice people, though. A real sense of community that you don't really get on bigger planets. That'll be nice, huh?"
Kipler doesn't respond, and Kaden can't help but give a dry chuckle, shaking his head.
"I must look insane right now, huh, Kip? Having a conversation with a sleeping baby that can't understand me in the middle of the night on a stranger's doorstep, a whole galaxy away from home… I wonder what Marie would say about that."
But at that thought, he utters a deep sigh, her memories plaguing his mind non-stop since yesterday, from the good, to the bad… But mostly the bad. Mostly the worst one… Mostly her death.
There was one thing that always stuck to his mind like a tick when his mind torturously looped that agonizing memory.
It was the way she looked at him when he entered the room. The way that he could see in her eyes the happiness and relief of seeing her husband alive… But with it… The look of death. It was all in her eyes.
It was a look he was unfortunately familiar with. Making it to be a General means you see a lot of death firsthand, mostly from your enemies, but also your allies. It was a tough lesson to learn, that from the wide-eyed rookies out to save the universe, to the hardened veterans simply going through the motions, no one's life was guaranteed. It was even tougher if they were unlucky enough to initially survive a mortal wound.
Once, Kaden tried to heal a comrade in the midst of a battle, patching up bullet holes and even a missing limb as best he could, but… One glance at their face, and he could see that look in his eyes.
That look that told him his attempts to save their life were futile. That look that was filled with a macabre assortment of anguish, sadness, fear, and acceptance.
That look that said he knew he was going to die. And he did. It was a look Kaden never forgot.
Kaden wished he could, though. It was haunting. It was a reason why he agreed to take a less-active role of General, on top of wanting more time to do his research at the Center with the Interdimensional Division and his engineering.
But… To then see that look in his own wife's eyes? Someone who wasn't a trained soldier that signed up to die, someone who hasn't even held a gun, someone who never, ever done anything wrong?
It was… Devastating. Seeing that chilling look in Marie's beautiful eyes, that look that she had accepted and knew that she was going to die… It haunted his every waking moment. It was the instant that Tachyon's attack truly felt like an apocalypse.
But… Only very recently, during the trip here from Fastoon, staring at Kipler's little face, realizing how lucky his son was to not suffer even a scratch from it that he also began to realize something else.
Marie had the look of death, she did. But… Did she moan and cry, begging for her life like so many others he's seen? Reduced a miserable, pathetic mess that denied the fact that her life was slipping away? Hoping that some miracle would come and prevent her imminent demise?
No. No she did not.
She smiled.
Even through the pain. Even through the terror. Even through the goddamn apocalypse, she never dropped that goddamn smile of hers.
And he realized it was because she was happy.
Happy that her son was safe and alive, all because of her sacrifice to save him. And when she saw Kaden enter that room, she absolutely beamed because Kaden's survival also ensured Kipler's. Saving him at her own doom merely let him survive the attack, but having Kaden survive to be able to take him… It meant that Kipler could live.
And that is exactly why her making Kaden promise to protect him were her last words, and the reason that she was able to die with a smile.
Because even to the end, she was a mother. The best fucking mother in the entire universe, and the strongest damn woman that Kaden ever knew, knowing that she would gladly die ten times more if it meant protecting Kipler.
And if he didn't want her death, her sacrifice, her love to be in vain… Then Kaden needed to make his own sacrifice, too. To even be half the parent that Marie was.
He swallows down the lump in his throat.
"I… I just want you to understand that this is so I can protect you, like she wanted. I know you'll be alone, Kip… but it's the best way to ensure your safety. If there was any possible way to let you grow up safely with another Lombax at least, I would take it in a heartbeat."
However, at that statement, Kaden suddenly glances back to Kipler, frowning, knowing the one argument that he could make against that very statement—and also exactly why it wasn't an option.
"But, no, I'm not leaving you with Alister. He might be stuck in this dimension with you and me, but he's the reason all of this happened in the first place." He says coldly, clenching his fist in anger.
"He's the reason I'm sitting here right now, about to abandon my own child while your mother's lying dead in our destroyed home, on our destroyed world, covered with even more dead Lombaxes! And now, taken over by a genocidal Cragmite! NONE of this would have happened if it wasn't for that stupid, stubborn bastard, and I tried to stop him! But did he listen to me? NO, he didn't! I swear to all that is holy, if I ever, ever see that son of a bitch again, I'll rip off his tail and SHOVE IT RIGHT UP HIS—"
Kaden suddenly realizes how loudly he is speaking, and stops himself to worriedly look back over to his son.
Upon seeing that he somehow didn't manage to wake up, thankfully, Kaden takes a few deep breaths to recollect himself and try to ease back the anger within him.
After all, now was not the time to blow up. He was unbelievably furious about the situation, but it would be wiser to save it for his battle with Tachyon. Even though Alister was responsible for even allowing Tachyon to commit his genocide… It was that Cragmite himself that caused all of this death and destruction, after all. Alister has already been punished with his exile… But Tachyon still needed his.
But as he rests on that last thought… A cold chill runs down his spine.
Kaden was a General of the Praetorian Guard. He was the sworn Keeper of the Dimensionator. He won the Agorian Gold tournament when he was only sixteen. He could probably count on his hands the number of times he went on an adventure that didn't involve some kind of life-threatening battle.
But even with all his combat experience… Deep down inside, no matter how much the cocky (and scared) bravado in him argued otherwise… He knew he was likely going to die in his fight against Tachyon.
Never had their people encountered such a fierce enemy like him, not since the Great War. If he was so strong that not even the entirety of their military could stop him, then what chance did he, a single Lombax, have? There was a reason the only option for survival was to abandon this reality, after all, but he didn't have that luxury.
If he was going to uphold his duty as Keeper of the Dimensionator to protect his species and his family, then he was going to have to face him off.
Alone.
No allies.
No support.
No running away.
Just the Wrench in his hands, and the anguish and suffering of his people to drive him to his very last breath.
Kaden closes his eyes, taking another deep breath, his mind clouded with anxiousness and fear at the thought. But after a minute of torturous thoughts of wondering just how painful and quick it was going to be, he finally opens his eyes.
He looks up to the sky, deciding that he was tired of the view of the distant city. He instead becomes enamored with the stars shining brilliantly down onto them, and finds that the view of Veldin's night sky is better than it is on Fastoon. Makes sense, since this planet has far too few people for light pollution to be a problem. He could practically see the whole galaxy up there.
But as he gazes at the sea of stars, a thought suddenly informs him that these are going to be the same stars that his son would grow up staring at, too, just as he's doing right now.
But he knew that Kipler would look at them not for their beauty, but for their answers. Answers about where he came from, and why he isn't there.
Kaden wonders which distant dot was the Polaris Galaxy, if it was even visible from here. Not that it mattered, really, because Kipler wouldn't know what planet he came from, or even what galaxy. For all he knows, Lombaxes might come from a distant corner of Solana right here, or even Bogon, or the dozen other galaxies surrounding him.
So even if Polaris was up there, his real home, the home of his proud people… It wouldn't matter. Because to him, it'd just be another dot among the trillions more in the sky.
To think that just a few days ago, he and Marie and Kipler were all together in their home, playing and laughing and eating together, thinking about how wonderful the rest of their lives would be.
And now… Here he was. Realizing that his son will grow up not knowing a goddamn thing about his species or even his family, because his mom was lying dead in a pool of her own blood a whole galaxy away, and his dad is preparing to leave him forever, marching to his own death, too.
Another round of tears begins to blur Kaden's vision, distorting the sparkling bright points into white smears as he continues to stare at them, wearing a blank expression as the reality of his situation truly hits him.
A moment of silence passes.
Then two.
Then several.
A whole minute.
"…When Marie first said she was pregnant, I was honestly scared at first. Terrified, even." Kaden says quietly, letting the tears fall freely from his face.
"I had no idea what to expect from being a dad. You grow up hearing people always say that it's the greatest thing in the world, but at the time, I couldn't get where they were coming from. Because, now, you're telling me that I have to put my life on hold for this tiny creature that depends on me? I can't go on missions willy-nilly or else I might orphan a kid? I have to raise him and teach him all about life, when not even I know if I'm doing it right? What if I mess up at being a dad, and he dies? Or becomes a serial killer? Or just a plain old disgrace to society? I mean, just who the hell would look at all that responsibility and uncertainty, and say it's the best thing ever?"
Kaden looks down with a sigh, and his vision clears a little as the tears in his eyes fall onto the ground, giving the dirt the most moisture they've seen in years.
"…I warmed up to the idea more during the pregnancy, though. Picking out clothes, setting up the nursery with Marie, talking about what your name might be when the day comes for your ceremony, all of that. It made it a little more… Real. More grounded. It helped me accept this was really happening.
"But even then, I couldn't shake that fear in the back of my mind. No matter what. Whenever I looked at her stomach, I… I honestly couldn't help but see a burden, and sometimes wished she never got pregnant so that I'd be free of it."
He sighs, hanging his head with shame.
"I know if I told anyone what I just said, they'd think I was a horrible father, if you could even call me that. And maybe I was, back then, with how selfishly I thought that a baby would ruin my life. But… I didn't say anything, because even thought I hated the idea of becoming a father so soon… Marie was ecstatic about becoming a mother. And as much as I hated parenthood… I loved Marie even more. So, if she was happy, then I would be, too. For her sake, if nothing else."
But then, as he thinks about that dark time where he thought of Kipler as a curse, and all the times he had to fake a smile and his enthusiasm whenever Marie asked how excited he was for their child, a small smile manages to find its way on his lips as he looks back up to gaze at Kipler.
He could see that he was still fast asleep, clearly just as exhausted as he himself was from the hell that was today, but he always looked so cute when he's asleep. Mouth slightly agape, his oversized ears twitching just a bit, and of course being so impossibly small for a creature.
Kaden grins even more as the familiar burning warmth of love fills his gut, managing to swallow down the sadness and anxiousness and fear and everything that had been plaguing him ever since he woke up.
"But then… You were born." He says happily. "And the moment I saw your face for the first time… Those feelings of doubt and fear just vaporized. I wasn't scared anymore. I was happy. Hopeful, even. Ecstatic, overjoyed, enthusiastic, just everything! And when you smiled at me and your mother for the first time when we held you in our arms… I understood what people meant when they say being a parent is the greatest thing in the world.
"All of a sudden, I didn't dread the responsibilities that went along with being a father anymore. I welcomed them gladly. It's like my life was given a new meaning, and it was something bigger than being a General, or a Councilman, or a Keeper. It was being your father. I swore right then and there in that instant that I would do anything—everything in the entire universe to protect you and that amazing smile on your face."
He scoots over to Kipler, and leans over the basket to look at his son, with even more tears falling from his face as he grins like an idiot, the droplets landing on his blanket, leaving small dark spots in the soft fabric.
"That's why I'm doing this, Kipler, because that includes making sacrifices. And if the price to make sure you grow up happy and safe is to leave you in another galaxy where I'll never see you again… Then so be it. If giving you even a chance to experience life with all its wonders and horrors means I'll have to fly to my death to fight Tachyon, then I'll do it. A hundred times over, in fact. I'll even tie my hands behind my back if I have to."
Kaden gently scoops his arms underneath the infant and picks him up from the basket to gently hug him for one last time, closing his eyes to squeeze more tears down his cheeks.
"I'll do it all, because I love you, Kipler. I love you with every fiber of my being. I wish we could've spent more time together, but I guess the universe has other plans for us. I know what's in store for me, but I can only guess what's waiting for you."
He removes Kipler from his chest, and looks into his sleeping face as he swaddles him in his arms, still smiling, still crying.
"But I just want you to promise me that you'll make sure it's something great. I want you to spend your life having good times, for both our sakes. Have adventures, make friends, fall in love, all of it. There are going to be bumps in the way, there's no question about it. But if you're Marie's son, then I know you have the strength to pull through anything life throws at you. Cherish everyone you hold dear to your heart, and live everyday like it's your last, because if there's anything I've learned in these last few days, it's that everything can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. I hope that won't ever happen to you, but if it does, make sure you have plenty of memories to keep you going. You hear me, Kip?"
Despite being in his sleep, he utters a small coo, stirring a little bit in his arms. Kaden smiles.
"Good."
He leans his head down, and gives Kipler one last kiss, hugging him tightly for a few seconds before he finally sets him down once more in the basket.
He brushes his cheek with the back of his fingers, feeling how soft his baby fur was, still grinning despite the steady flow of tears running down his face.
"I love you, Kipler. Just know that me and your mother will be waiting for you in whatever life comes after this one. Until then, though… Just make us proud, son."
Kaden stares at him for a moment longer, savoring every single strand of fur, every wrinkle of his face, every breath he took, knowing that this was going to be the very last time he would ever see his son again.
And after what felt like an eternity, Kaden takes one last shaky breath, being the deepest he's taken thus far as the burning, choking feeling of a body-wracking cry starts to begin an assault on his throat, but he manages to keep it at bay just long enough to say a single word:
"Goodbye."
Nearly instantly, taking every single ounce of his willpower, Kaden removes his hand from Kipler's cheek, and instead uses it to cover his mouth to stifle the sobs about to break out.
He stands up and uses his other hand to furiously mash the button next to the door of the orphanage, hearing a muffled ringing from inside, notifying the caretakers of their new adoptee.
He then quickly turns away and runs back to his ship, forcing himself to not look back at his son, wanting that image of him brushing his sleeping face to be his last memory of him, and not as a small dot as he flies away, and to prevent himself from being tempted to fly away with him.
He jumps into the cockpit, and skips all of the normal preflight checks and procedures, against the AI's advice. He doesn't even input Fastoon's coordinates, nor any coordinates fro that matter, opting instead to immediately take off into the sky above. His priority is to just get off this goddamn planet as soon as possible, or else he might change his mind.
And as the ship takes off, he watches the subtle blue undertone of the Veldin atmosphere disappear into the complete, inky blackness of space through the cloud of tears blocking his vision. In any other circumstance, he would've appreciated the beauty. It was a sight he never got tired of, despite all his years of flying.
Now, finally safe in the cold, impersonal confines of outer space, Kaden lets out a breath, taking his hands off the controls as the ship aimlessly drifts through the endless, starry abyss in front of him.
It was done.
He knows he shouldn't, but having used up everything his soul possibly had to have the strength to abandon the only family he had left, he allows himself to turn in his seat to look back at Veldin.
But upon seeing the giant brown sphere in front of him, every single emotion he had felt on that doorstep finally slams into him in one giant wave.
His wife was dead.
His planet was destroyed.
His best friend is a traitor.
He was going to die fighting Tachyon.
And he had just abandoned his son in another galaxy, never to be seen again.
This time, though, he no longer had a sleeping baby to keep him in check. So as his throat starts burning, Kaden does nothing to suppress it, and almost immediately begins sobbing, crying, and yelling at the top of his lungs, burying his face in his hands, wondering for the thousandth time since Marie died what he possibly could have done to deserve this living hell, and begging to anything that would listen to him to at least let his son be spared from this misery, all the while his ship silently drifts through the vast emptiness of the universe.
Ms. Perigee lays comfortably in her bed, reading a light romance novel—a guilty pleasure that she seldom partook in as she was often too busy with the children to find any meaningful time for herself. She felt a little guilty that she was reading at such a late hour, knowing it would only make her day tomorrow harder from lack of proper sleep, but what the heck! She deserved this after dealing with that stunt Molly pulled earlier, starting a food fight in the cafeteria. Just the laundry alone was a nightmare!
But as she turns the page in the midst of the heroine's confession, she hears the doorbell of the office downstairs begin to ring. Several times, in fact. Very quickly.
She huffs as she places a bookmark in the novel and sets it down onto the nightstand next to her. Why are people so impatient these days? Back in her day, a single ring was enough to get someone's attention!
She stands up from her bed, groaning slightly from the old bones in her body. She makes her way out of her room, down the hall, and down the stairs into the office. She was thankful that whoever was there stopped ringing, at least, as she was beginning to worry that their incessant ringing was going to wake up the children.
Ms. Perigee glances down the hall to the rest of the building, and breathes a small sigh of relief as she doesn't hear any stirring, only the usual snores of the kids. Trying to get them to fall back asleep was almost as bad as dealing with the aftermath of a food fight.
She shuffles over to the door and flips the switch next to it to turn on the exterior light before she opens the door.
When she does, she is surprised to find no one standing there. Confused, she leans out and looks around, confirming that there wasn't a soul in sight, and she sighs.
"Darn kids and their pranks. I swear, if I—" She stops as she glances down, seeing a baby lying at her feet, sleeping soundly in a basket.
She gasps, and bends down to take the child in her arms, ignoring the flaring of her old joints. She internally smacked herself on the head for assuming there was going to be someone at the door at this hour. This was an orphanage, for crying out loud! Nearly a quarter of these kids ended up here the exact same way!
Although… Looking at it, this child was different. It had fur, for one, so it obviously wasn't a Veldinite child. A Cazar, then, perhaps? But that doesn't explain the large ears it had. They were almost the size of its head! Just what kind of species was it?
She looks back down into the basket, but unfortunately doesn't see a note. She looks around some more, and doesn't see anything else.
Well, except for the large spot where a ship was clearly parked not too long ago, what with all of the dust kicked up around the area.
She frowns.
It wasn't unusual for unwilling parents to not leave notes, but this was one time she sorely needed one. How was she supposed to take care of a child if she didn't even know what species they were?
However, all she does is simply sigh.
She'll get Dr. Morris to come over sometime in the next couple days to help her figure out what it is. In the meantime, though, she guesses she would take care of the child as if it was a Cazar. It was the closest thing she could think of.
She uses her foot to scoot the basket inside the office, not wanting to bend down again, and she quietly shuts the door before turning off the outside light. She then turns and walks down the hall into the rest of the orphanage, towards the nursery.
"Time to find you a place to rest, dear." She mutters to the child.
As she walks down the hall, glancing through the windows of the passing doors to check on the rest of the children, she feels the baby stir in her arms, and she looks down to see it yawn before opening its eyes, finding them to be a beautiful shade of green as it stares curiously back up at her.
"M… Mama?" It utters sleepily.
She smiles softly, deciding that while this little bundle of fluff was frustrating in how much of a mystery it was, it definitely had to be one of the cutest kids she's taken under her care.
"I'm afraid I'm not your mama, little one." She says softly. "But it seems as though I am now. Welcome to your new home."
Not going to lie, this chapter is still probably one of my favorite things I've ever written with how much it punches you in the feels, lmao. It felt nice to give it a touch-up to make it even more impactful (hopefully), and makes me a bit nostalgic as this was a chapter that I wrote out of self-indulgence way before I even fathomed releasing Lost Time to the public—Hell, at the point when this was originally written, Lost Time wasn't even named anything other than 'untitled fic' in word, lmao.
It also felt nice how this was a scene that really was a product of the theme of this fic, too, since I started Lost Time after being inspired by Death Stranding's themes of fatherhood when it made me cry at its ending (yes, the wacky Norman Reedus and the Funky Fetus walking game made me cry like a bitch lmao).
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this touch-up of a favorite chapter of mine!
Until next time!