Summary: finally we come to a conclusion :3

Duncan is able to stop his running before a giant paw, almost as big as him, comes down on him. It's a brownish color, almost able to mimic the rock walls around them, and with how dark the tunnels are he hasn't seen it until it was almost too late. He jumps back, just in time to avoid two more that follow him in an attempt to snatch him up, and being so disoriented, so lost, he can't help but fall on his ass when two red hands, twice the size of his attacker's, land on the ground at his sides.

He is also not stupid enough to lie to himself. He has already lost, running is over, there's no getting out of this and the only way out is to be a coward and hide behind the only person that's willing to protect him.

Belloc is right on top of him, head hanging so low that it manages to cover him even when he's still sitting on the ground, and the growl that's coming off him is so intense he feels himself develop a headache. The other kaiju is smaller than his father by a lot, has what he thinks are four arms with three claw-like fingers on them and a body that develops into the one that resembles a scorpion. It has a sting, but something tells him it's not gonna be enough to deterre the mass of destruction his father has transformed in.

None of them have spoken yet, but Duncan has spent almost two weeks listening to growls and warbles and being shoved and nipped and licked; he recognizes the message they're sending each other, not just because it's obvious they're going to fight, but what they're actually communicating. Belloc is practically screaming the word traitor to anybody who will listen, yelling something about a right, and the word child gets thrown around a few times. The other kaiju is basically seething with poison, saying something about crimes and wrongs. Something about abomination.

Belloc almost jumps to the other's throat when that word is uttered, but a look underneath him makes him hold back. His claws scrap the ground, and with a croon and softer eyes he lowers his head until his chin graces Duncan's head; when the boy doesn't recoil from his touch he snorts pleased and nudges him towards the rock wall, where he'll be about of range and safe from what's about to happen.

Duncan obeys immediately, because he knows that his father is gone again —whether it is from his crying or his close to death experience at the hands of another kaiju, he's not sure—, and that means what is coming is going to be very different from what happened at the mountains not even a month ago. The other kaiju hasn't taken its eyes off him, and looks at him with hunger and rage. Duncan closes his eyes and sticks to the wall; his father smacks his tail against the ground, cracking it and making him almost bounce in his place, and kills.

He's already on top of his new opponent, teeth clamped around his neck so tight he fears they will meet and the head will fall at his feet, but Duncan knows his father is not as merciful. With his eyes closed he can't see what's happening around him, but he doesn't need to; he can hear bones breaking, agony filled screaming, and his father roaring to the point his ears hurt. The ground is shaking from the two giants stomping around.

He wants to go home to his mom so she can tell him everything is fine, and that she loves him.

A pained screech bounces off the walls, and Duncan covers his ears in an attempt to pretend none of this is happening. There's a crunch, wet and sickening, and then there's only silence. At least, of course, until he hears something rip.

Please, not again.

Duncan scrambles up on his feet, pushing himself off the wall, and does the last thing he wants to do in this situation; he runs to his father, standing above the corpse of his fallen opponent, and eating. He is fast on his feet and doesn't stop until he barrels into his father's left hand, holding down a broken arm to have full access to the underside of the beast, and that's enough to stop him from playing butcher; at least from the time being.

"Dad, stop". He tries to pull on the scales, claws clinging to them like his life depends on it. "Dad, please". Belloc stopped trying to rip apart the corpse and finally turned to him. He had luckily not broken the thick skin of the corpse, instead breaking bones until it stopped breathing, so he wasn't dripping blood like a monster out of a slasher movie. He was still out of it, though, with the inner lids covering his eyes and no words coming out of his mouth.

Belloc croons, pupils dilated, and reaches down to bump him with his snout looking for any wounds. Duncan pushes him away and his father protests, snapping his teeth at the air. He swallows his need to scream out of frustration and lets the kaiju sniff him a bit, until he looks content enough that there is no blood coming out of him and he's not dropping dead on the ground. With a warble of sorts Belloc tries to go back to the butchering, ready to gut open the body in front of him and get back any energy he may have lost.

Duncan holds back his tears of frustration, because he is cold, and scared, and nothing makes sense, and he doesn't want to be out in the open while his father desecrates the body of one of his people —even though he knows Belloc will protect him of anybody that even dares to look at him wrong—. He wants a lot of things that aren't really possible any more. This, on the other hand, is one thing he can get.

Without having to put too much thought into acting, Duncan chooses a random point of the tunnel and runs towards it. Not even two seconds later he is engulfed in a giant hand and plucked off the ground. He makes a show of complaining, squirming in his hold and even throwing around an annoyed yelp —something he hadn't been aware he could do until the fourth time his father had tripped him to the ground to get him to engage with him in what he believed was meant to resemble playing—, and when the fingers pry open, only enough so Belloc can get a good look at him —as if asking if he hasn't learnt his lesson yet—, he slaps him.

Not too hard, because he doesn't really mean to hurt, but the almost love tap on the nose makes his father snort smoke and croon at him. When he is lifted higher, he knows he has won, at least, this time. Belloc lowers him on his back, between his shoulder blades and as close to his neck as he is able, where he can easily reach him in case of an emergency, and until he feels him cling to him with both the claws of his hands and feet, he doesn't let go. He looks at him over his shoulder and sniffs in his direction, as if to make sure that he is, in fact, situated, and then directs his attention back to his meal.

Carrying it back to the nest is an unnecessary step, but the whelp is upset. It will still be warm by the time he eats.

(…)

He had always thought that, even though he is meant to live for a few more centuries until he inevitably becomes too old to fight back, he would go down first. It had probably been wishful thinking, the thoughts of a love-sick man looking at the love of his life and fearing that, if the situation was reversed, the sanity would fly away and leave his mind.

He had been lazing around in the cell, ignoring the pitter patter of doctors and scientists walking around in front of him and muttering between each other. There had been no apparent change in the atmosphere. No more hostility than usual, no nervousness that indicated a change in the routine, not even Barnes looked any different than usual; standing in a corner, hand on his holster, eyes burning with hatred and disgust. He had no exact way to tell the time, but given that they had just fed him not even an hour ago, Duncan was probably still in class, and Margaret at work.

The boy was supposed to come and visit it this afternoon, too, and Belloc was very much looking forward to it, especially because Margaret had accepted coming too. It was going to be the first time in sixteen years that he'd be able to have both his child and wife by his side; no danger lurking around, none to interrupt the moment —not that he would allow it—.

That's why, when Margaret came barreling through the door, blood staining her shirt, and grabbing her side, it took him a second. It took him a second to reach his hand through the energy field, fingers spread to catch her and shield her from danger and threats.

There was a loud wet noise and the mother of his child landed on his palm with a hole on her head and a lost look in her eyes.

After that, things started to get blurry.

(…)

Duncan is laying on his fathers hand, with his thumb rubbing his back in circular motions and the rest of his fingers hovering over him, blocking his view of the massacre in front of him. In the bare ground of the king's chambers rested the corpse, now gutted and free of limbs that rested, now only blood stained bones, in a pile. Part of him was grateful that, even when lost in his head, Belloc had the decency of sparing him as many gruesome views as possible.

He rubs his eyes, trying to fight off sleep and relieve the uncomfortable feeling of the puffiness and redness. Just after entering through the hole in the wall that was the entrance to the treasure chamber, the finality of loosing, of not being fast enough to run away, settled in, and it had been impossible to contain the tears. He didn't complain when Belloc dropped the corpse on a corner and immediately reached for him; nor when he was cradled in his hands and between crooning and nuzzling gave his best shot of asking what was wrong.

He let him lower him on one of the dozens of mountains of gold around the chambers and made a halfhearted attempt of toying with the gold coins and other treasures when his father nudged them with his fingers in his directions, and later, when he ate his fill —Duncan could barely stomach anything after seeing what had been done to the kaiju's body, and although Belloc protested, he wasn't forced to try the remains of his fathers hunt before his first escape—, he let himself be held. He both wanted and hated being touched these days. The person he wanted to hug him was dead; her remains incinerated, in one of the few moments of clarity his father had experienced in the last two weeks, after forcing his eyes away.

Belloc suddenly changes positions, now laying on the ground, tail straitened and lazily rocking back and forth, and brings his hand close to him, until he can nudge his back with his nose. Duncan feels bold enough to put a hand on his fathers snout and he warbles, a happy one. Duncan doesn't take it off, even when Belloc licks it and bites it —now he knows it's playfully, an attempt to cheer him up and get him to play and engage with him—, and he pays back by pushing his head away with his foot.

He is practically falling asleep; keeping his eyes open becoming more of a challenge the longer he playfully banters with the kaiju, until Belloc decides it's been enough for the day and purrs at him. His whole body almost vibrates at the sound, and he feels himself relaxing until opening his eyes is just too much effort.

Mom is no longer there, his whole life has basically been thrown off its axis like a lego construction by a toddler, and he doesn't know what's waiting for him. In the meantime, dad is, at least, doing his best to make it all better, hug him and tell him just how far he is willing to go for him.