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Evbo knew that he had messed up. More than messed up, actually. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his entire life.
Seawatt and EMF were both furious with him, and it wasn’t hard to see why. It took him hours to scrub all of the blood off of his skin, and even then, he still kept finding flecks of it or random fleshy bits stuck under his nails or in the crease of his skin.
He had no idea where his kids were, and every time he tried to find them using his natural abilities, he was met with resistance.
He hadn’t had any idea that Nebby was able to fight his abilities like that. He would’ve been proud if it didn’t make him panic even more than before.
He didn’t know if they were okay. Well, actually, he knew that they weren’t . They had just witnessed something terribly, terribly brutal, and he had been the one to do the act. He couldn’t even imagine what it must have looked like from their perspectives.
For so long, he had refused to acknowledge how much they had grown. A part of him had almost still believed that they were all still tiny babies, incapable of even comprehending what was happening around them.
Those thoughts were actively ignoring the truth. Even their youngest was no longer a baby. They had seen all of that, and they would forever remember the image of their father brutalizing another player without an ounce of remorse.
And then he had turned around and threatened Nebby…
There had been just a second, when his oldest daughter rushed in front of his next target, feathers on end and wings unfolded to their largest size, when all he saw was the image that had haunted his nightmares. His sweet, sweet daughter, bludgeoned to death by his own hands.
And in that moment, he had hated himself more than anything.
…
The first time Evbo held Nebula, it had been a few minutes after she was born.
It wasn’t immediately after, no. Because he had spent a good two, three minutes simply lying limply on the quartz floor of the Champion Layer. His entire body was wrung dry, crippled with a terrible weakness from what he had, at the time, believed to be the sensation of his very mortal body rejecting the divine soul contained within it. That had been his best theory, something that only seemed to be proven when his very body seemed to reject the thing within him. He had believed it to be his own organs.
So he lay still, breathing, trying so hard to simply recover as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He just wanted to go home. And yet, his powers fizzled out every time he reached for them. He could barely move, barely even breathe.
But the pain had subsided for now. After hours of increasing intensity, it had finally faded away, leaving him empty and exhausted.
It was only after he was finally able to pull in a full lung of air without coughing from the residual stab of pain that he finally looked.
And what he was faced with was not his own body’s rejected innards.
His gasp was inaudible, simply because his oxygen was suddenly entirely out of reach all over again. He still couldn’t stand, could barely move, but he forced himself onto his forearms and elbows and crawled .
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
It was on repeat in his head, the only thing he could think. Because if he let himself think of anything else… well, he wasn’t sure how well he could keep himself together. So instead, he crawled to the little creature, whispering shaky curses under his breath the entire time, until he was close enough to touch it.
Perhaps the most awful part of it all, worse than the pain and the creeping sensation of dying, was how completely and utterly still the little thing was. It didn’t react to his touch, didn’t move, didn’t even twitch. He found tears spilling out of his eyes long before his brain caught up, because suddenly everything was making sense and it was painting a terrible picture.
“No. Oh no no no. Oh god, no.”
The words tumbled from his lips without even a thought. All previous thoughts and concerns with his own exhaustion and weakness went out the window until he found himself with a single-minded focus.
It wasn’t breathing. It wasn’t breathing .
Oh god…
The Parkour God moved slowly, like he was afraid of scaring the limp little creature. A part of him feared falling apart should he move any faster. His body was not made for this. He was not made for this. None of this should be possible. None of it .
And yet, he couldn’t deny his own eyes. He couldn’t deny what he now understood to be true.
He gingerly lifted it into his arms, breathing out softly as its warm scent washed over him, strangely familiar and real . It still failed to react to his touch.
He understood now, and…
It was…
He had just…
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracked and broken. Please. Please move. Please breathe. Please don’t be dead. Please, please.
He didn’t know what to do. How to help. He shook it gently, trying to rouse it, called quietly, but he was greeted with nothing but cold quiet. The wind was so cold up here…
And if he didn’t act quickly, this little thing in his arms would be just as cold. That wouldn’t do.
There was a word for it. A word that he couldn’t use because it would just make everything feel too real . It wasn’t a thing or a creature and he knew that, but he couldn’t call it what it was. Not yet. Not now.
Thinking as quickly as he could, the godling reached for his discarded hoodie and began to wrap it around the little thing, desperate to keep it warm if nothing else.
As he did, his fingers pressed just a little too hard against its arm, and he was met with a faint twitch in response, and a flutter beneath the pad of his finger. His exhale came out more as a whimper as he fumbled for its arm again, desperate for the confirmation.
And sure enough, he felt it again. A flutter. A promise of life. A heartbeat.
And it was that moment that it finally all clicked together.
The emotion started small. Relief and anxiety mixed together. From that, it swelled into terror , with a pounding ferocity that begged him to get moving, get help, do something other than just sit here and cradle this creature like he could do anything to help it. The trickle of anxiety suddenly reared up again, washing his mind of all thoughts other than cursing and the repeated ‘oh god’ still wearing a track in his brain.
And then, suddenly, everything else fell away. It was as though the ground itself had collapsed beneath him, like the sun had suddenly burned out, like the stars themselves had gone to a standstill. His pain, his fear, it all vanished in an instant as something violent and impossibly powerful overcame him. He felt it in more than just his chest. It trickled through his veins and arteries with every beat of his heart. Swirled in his stomach, throwing butterflies up with every twist. It consumed his thoughts, his mind, brought a fresh wave of tears into his eyes that slowly dripped down his cheeks and landed on its face.
That was the moment Evbo learned what undying, all-consuming, terrifyingly powerful love felt like in its purest form.
He loved it. He loved it. He loved this little creature, this anomaly, this child , with every single inch of his body and mind. He trembled violently as his body struggled to contain the emotion, one finger reaching out to lightly brush stuff away from its little round nose. It was covered in the stuff , not that the godling even had it in him to care at the moment.
He pulled himself to his feet. Shivering at the terrible sensation of being upright after what had just happened. What he just did.
This… this baby wouldn’t survive unless he moved now . It needed help right this second , and if Evbo simply sat here, holding it and doing nothing of use, then it would surely fade away fast. That flutter of a heartbeat beneath his fingers would vanish, and he would be left with something vital in him torn out anyway.
Because he didn’t know it was there. He didn’t know that this was possible. But he had felt that connection, and he knew with absolute certainty that if he lost this baby, his baby, he would forever lose something in himself. Something that could never be healed.
So he fought through it all. Through the pain, the exhaustion, the terrible sensations, and he jumped. He jumped as fast as he could, knowing only of one place he could go now. One person who would know what to do. One person who could save his child.
So he ran to Seawatt.
…
Evbo suspected that EMF, at least, knew where their kids were. The Champion said nothing about it, but it was something about the way he acted. Strangely calm about not knowing where they were. EMF would not have acted so calmly if he didn’t know for sure that they were safe, so Evbo had to believe.
Still, it made it so hard for him to trust his husband. Because EMF believed that he had to protect their own children from the very man who had given them life. There was something about his behavior that suggested he thought Evbo would hurt them.
And could he really be blamed for believing that? He had certainly had no qualms with threatening Nebula when she moved to protect the player against Evbo’s wrath. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember what the player’s name was. The entire scene was a blank in the godling’s head.
He knew what he had done; he wouldn’t claim otherwise. He had known it in the moment and he was still very aware. But at the time, his actions had seemed minor compared to the message they were supposed to send.
A threat. A dare. An example. These players hadn’t even done anything with Celeste, and see what happened to them for even considering such a thing. Let your imagination run wild about what may happen should you actually hurt his children.
And then Evbo had gone and done exactly that. He had hurt his children.
Not intentionally, no. They had to be present in order for the world to see their faces. To know who they were. And after that, he hadn’t even registered that they were there.
He could only assume the same was true for EMF and Seawatt, who had failed just as bad in protecting them from that violence. They had argued against their actions, but they failed to pull the kids away. To hide them from the atrocities that their dad was committing in their name.
And forever their names would be associated with the death Evbo had wrought. From now and forever, every mention of Nebula, of Celeste, of Starry, would be met with the images of what had happened to the player who had even considered hurting them. The first thoughts wouldn’t be of their strength, their talents, their abilities, it would be of fear . Evbo had introduced his family and his brutality in one event, and now those two would forever remain linked.
…
The first time Evbo held Celeste, it had only been a couple of moments after she was born.
For all intents and purposes, the series of events had been very similar to Nebby’s birth. The pain, the progression, the feelings, it had all been near identical.
What made it so, so vastly different, was that Evbo was not alone.
The entire time, all sixteen hours of it, Seawatt had been by his side. The Fighter had stepped out only to eat or use the restroom, and otherwise stubbornly refused to leave his partner’s side. Running his fingers through Evbo’s hair or whispering soft words of encouragement when the pain hit.
EMF had to watch Nebby, but even he was able to get her to fall asleep in time to be there at the end. And as such, Evbo had actually been the last of the trio to see their daughter.
He had been anxious, of course. Scared, naturally. While his emotional state was much sounder with his partners present, his physical state was hardly much better. As such, he felt wrung out and exhausted, and the joking comments made about her appearance were enough to wear down the last of his defenses until all he wanted was to hold his daughter.
What he had been given was something significantly less human than Nebby, only because her entire form was obscured by immense amounts of deep brown fur. And most important, she was active , squirming and whining unhappily as she experienced the sensations of cold and hunger for the first time in her short, short life.
He recognized the emotion now, before it hit. That slight churn in his gut, the pounding of his heart ringing in his ears. He recognized it, but it didn’t make it any easier for him to express it when it slammed into him with the force of a 10-heart attack.
He couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks, barely registering the joyous words shared between his husbands, because they really didn’t matter right now. What mattered was this little squirming bundle of fur, settling as she was offered something to eat, and then rumbling with satisfied purrs when her belly was full. She purred and purred and purred, a slight discrepancy with the scowl painted across her little face. Her tiny claws curled in and out, kneading like a newborn kitten.
And she was small. Smaller than her older sister when she was born, definitely, and it just made her look all the more fluffy. Soon, her fur would all dry and leave her looking like a little ball of lint with eyes, but it was still damp and matted at the moment, allowing for her parents to properly see her general body shape and know that she came out perfect .
That was the word to describe her. To describe both of them, really. Just simply perfect . Tiny, perfectly shaped hands and feet, a round little belly, big eyes like her Papa that still shone a pale blue. One day they would begin to shift, ending as a faded shade of green, but for now they were blue, and they were beautiful.
They had already picked out the name Celeste before she was born, but it fit her uncannily well. The fur across her face was speckled with stars, and mixed with the moon-like appearance of her eyes, she looked as though she had been plucked from the cosmos themselves.
And here she was now. Safe and warm and happy , cradled in the arms of her dad, who would’ve done anything to protect her.
He would’ve done anything or hurt anyone. That was a promise he made. Because if someone fit to lay a hand on this sweet, perfect child, then only the most brutal of punishments were befitting of them.
And as the Parkour God, Evbo would make it happen.
…
“Please, Em, please . You know where they are. I know you do. Please just tell me.”
Evbo’s voice was a mess, choked with tears and from begging his partner. It had been a couple of days, and it was the longest he had ever gone without seeing his kids since they were born, and it was beginning to tear him apart .
“Evbo,” EMF sighed. “I’ve told you. They’ll come home when they’re ready. They are safe, I promise. But if you try to force them to come back before they’ve had time to recover, it’ll only make things worse.”
“You don’t understand, Em!” How could he? How could he possibly understand how Evbo felt? He had never experienced that sensation, that moment of pure, violent emotion swarming over him when he gazed down at them for the first time. As he saw the little life that he had made, that he had given life to. The emotion never went away, but it grew diluted with other things with time. Pride. Anxiety. Worry. “I… I need to know that they’re okay! I need to see them with my own eyes.”
“Ev,” EMF sighed. He rested his hands on Evbo’s shoulders, betraying the subtle tremble that had consumed the godling’s limbs. “They’re scared. Right now, they don’t know what to believe or where to go. They’re trying to cross the image of you that they’ve always had with the god that you’ve always been. They need time to process. If you try to rush it, all you’ll end up doing is scaring them.” Evbo looked away. “Nebby is still keeping you out, right?”
Evbo nodded miserably. Just to make sure, he tugged on his abilities, but once more fell just short of locating them.
“Then they’re fine .” The ex-Champion cupped his partner’s face within his hands. He brushed away tears from Evbo’s cheeks as they started to fall. “Nebby is smart. If she needed us, she knows how to get our attention. She’s protecting them. Have faith in her.”
“She’s thirteen, Em,” he whispered. “She’s just a child .”
“And right now, she’s more reliable to her siblings than we are,” EMF added in a soft voice. “We choked, Evbo. Back there, on that stage… we all choked. We failed our duties as parents, and now we have to pay the price. We’ve lost their trust. The only way to get that trust back is to trust them first. Trust Nebula. She stepped in when we didn’t. She knows what she’s doing.”
Trust Nebula? Of course he trusted Nebula! Nebby had proven herself, time and time again, to be the most faithful, intelligent, trustworthy player that Evbo had ever known. And he knew, with an absolute certainty, that it was entirely based on her nature. None of that could be attributed to her parents, try as they might to raise them into good people. Nebby was a good person. Nebby was inherently better than the players she had come from.
But she was still just a child. And a child should not have to be responsible for other children.
Unfortunately, EMF had already walked away, marking the conversation as over before Evbo could really even argue. He pulled his arms around himself and let out shaky breaths, trying so hard not to panic.
EMF was right. He knew that he was. If something had happened, if their kids needed them, Nebby would’ve dropped the protection by now. The fact that she was still actively keeping it up could’ve only been good news.
And yet. And yet.
The godling still panicked. Because he hadn’t gone this long without seeing his children since the moment he saw their faces for the very first time, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to be without them.
They were scared of him, and he deserved it. Nebby’s anger, Celeste’s terror, the way both sisters acted to prevent Starry from witnessing the carnage, he deserved it all.
He swore to protect them, time and time again, and all he had done was force them to suffer in a way painfully similar to his own scars. Never again would they have the same innocence as they had before they stepped onto that stage, and it was his own fault.
Maybe his younger kids should trust Nebby over himself. She had never forced them to watch anything nearly as awful, and she never would, because she was simply good . She was better than Evbo, better than all of her parents.
She was a good person, and that was more than Evbo could say about himself.
…
The first time Evbo held Starry, the boy was over a week old.
Up until then, the godling had been fighting off a terrible illness, one that fried his mind to the point of complete and utter delusion and amnesia. One of the last things he even remembered was discovering that he was expecting again, so when he woke up to see his husbands, both looking exhausted beyond belief but eyes filled with hope, he had thought that everything was okay.
And then EMF had spoken, and he had used that damned past tense word.
He had said “You were pregnant.”
And in that moment, he had been struck with pure, icy, bitterly cold terror . Because he heard the implication, and he knew what it meant. He knew that he was sick, and it couldn’t have been that long , and now he heard it used in past tense and all he could think, all he could hear , round and around in his head, was the awful, awful question that he didn’t want to ask.
Did we lose it?
The immediate comfort that their son was alive was washed away with the tone of which they said it. There was a dull note in their voices, quiet and tired. It was clear that, even if he was alive, there was a very, very good chance that he wouldn’t be for long.
It was then that something tickled in the back of the godling’s head. A memory, of holding his oldest daughter. Of how she survived for longer than she should have when she was first born, and how she had twitched under his touch. Evbo had never told anyone just how long it had been before he was able to bring Nebby to Seawatt, and he knew without a doubt that she likely wouldn’t have survived the trip if it weren’t for the divinity of the godling who carried her.
So in perhaps a moment of desperation, he had a realization. They drew strength from him. They could draw life from the act of him living. And his theory had been proven true the very second he was given his baby boy.
The child he had seen in his husband’s arms was chillingly quiet and still. His eyes remained closed, his life only visible by the faint rise and fall of his chest.
Beneath Evbo’s fingers, he felt that fluttering life, hanging by a thread that frayed with every moment. Despite the constant effort of both Seawatt and EMF, the sleepless nights, the stressful days, Starry was slipping. Fading. And if something didn’t change soon, he would be lost.
But even just the act of holding him seemed to cause that necessary change, because he could feel that subtle flame grow beneath his touch. Starry’s face scrunched up, then relaxed, his tiny limbs stretching out as if realizing for the first time that they were there. His eyes opened, bright blue and innocent, and he reached one hand up towards Evbo’s face with a soft, almost inaudible coo.
The godling couldn’t help but let out a wet chuckle, his hand naturally finding its way towards his tiny son’s face and lightly rubbing against his cheek. He let out another soft coo of interest, before reaching up and wrapping his hand around Evbo’s finger, curious. Oh , he was so tiny. Fragile, like the wings of a butterfly. Like if Evbo accidentally moved the wrong way, he might accidentally hurt this tiny baby.
He spoke with his partners, but he didn’t really listen to what he or either of them said. He was too entirely focused on the little creature in his arms, pressed against his chest. He used a gentle hand to pull at his tightly folded ears, which unrolled easily enough but folded right back into place when left untouched, revealing a soft plume of fur inside.
This time, he was caught entirely off guard when the emotion hit. It had been overwhelmingly powerful with both Nebby and Cel, but with little Starry, it was brutal . A wave of fear and anger and love and hope and protectiveness so strong and so densely woven together that he couldn’t pick at one without unraveling all the others. His arms came around to shield Starry entirely from other watchful eyes, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as it sensed its other half. Almost as if in response, Starry nuzzled his face against Evbo’s chest as though seeking something.
Not warmth. He wasn’t seeking warmth. Instead, he sought out that soft, rhythmic thumping that had seemingly vanished some time ago. Now that the child was reunited with his father’s heartbeat, it was clear that he had no intention of letting it go again.
And Evbo? Evbo felt the same. As long as that tiny flame remained burning, he refused to stop feeding it. Because this little flame was born from him , his flesh and blood, his divinity, and it was his duty, his purpose , to put all of himself into protecting his own.
It was clear that Starry felt safe in Evbo’s arms. Lively but not unhappy. Taking the time to look around, babble sweet little baby words, without ever once considering that something bad could happen. Because it was Evbo that held him, and Evbo would never let anything bad happen.
It was a promise felt trembling in the air more than one spoken aloud. And with it, a sense of peace and contentment.
A sense of safety, and love that overpowered all else.
…
“Have you considered that this wouldn’t have happened at all if you hadn’t decided to torture a player to death on stage ?” Seawatt said, a bite in his voice. “I’m with Em, Evbo. We know that they’re okay.”
“You’re not worried?” The godling pressed, his voice cracking in desperation.
“Of course I’m worried!” He scoffed. “But I also understand why they need some time away. They’re not alone, don’t worry. They’ve got someone looking after them.”
“You… you know where they are?”
“Of course I do.” Seawatt nodded absently as he finished cutting the carrots. He slid them off of the cutting board and straight into the pot he was cooking in. When he noticed Evbo still staring at him, he sighed. “Evbo, we’re not telling you because you’re the one they need time away from. And we know you well enough to know that you’ll be racing off to see them the very moment you have an inkling as to where they are. I know how much you want to believe that… that everything’s okay, but it’s not , Evbo. What you did up there… that was not what we agreed to. You told us that you were just going to kill them. Everything after that was on you.”
“Seawatt-!”
“Don’t ’Seawatt!’ me, Ev. You know I’m right. You actively ignored both me and EMF when we tried to tell you to stop, so I understand why you’re upset, and I understand that you’re scared and anxious and worried about the kids, but they’re in the best situation they can be right now.”
Evbo wasn’t sure what kind of expression he had on his face, but it must’ve been a pretty pathetic one if Seawatt’s tone shift meant anything.
“It’s okay, Ev. They’re okay. They’re safe. They are all together and trying to understand a lot right now. They’re coming to terms with the idea that you are more than just their Dad. That’s all they’ve ever known you as. They’ve never seen you as the Parkour God, ready to destroy those who dare threaten his family. So just… just give them some time to acclimate. They’ll come home when they’re ready.”
It was what EMF had said as well. They’ll come home when they’re ready. And yet, it still felt so hollow, even coming from Seawatt. Evbo folded his hands in his lap as Seawatt cooked, his thoughts a terrible mess of anger, guilt, and fear.
Finally, he managed to ask one last question. “Seawatt?”
“Yes?”
Evbo clenched his fists, inhaling hard to hold back the tears that threatened to fill his vision. “Do you think I’ve lost them? Forever?”
He couldn’t help it. He started to cry.
Had he lost those sweet, loving children, that had given him so much in life? Had he lost the right to call them his? Had he lost the chance to fix it? He couldn’t take any of it back. He couldn’t erase anyone’s memories of what happened on that stage, and he couldn’t stop himself from bringing Nebby, Cel, and Starry along. All of those actions were in the past, and now he was in the now and he just…
“I… I can’t lose them, Sea,” he whispered. “They’re everything to me. They’re… they’re my life. I can’t lose my… my kids just because I was stupid and angry. ”
Seawatt looked sad as he rested a hand on Evbo’s shoulder. Squeezing gently. “You haven’t lost them, Ev. I promise. Just give them time.”
“They’ll never be able to see me the same way.”
“…that’s… true. I can’t deny that. But it was bound to happen eventually. It was inevitable that your lives would clash one day. It just sucks that it had to be like this.” He rubbed his thumb into Evbo’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. They’ll be back, and when they are, we can sit down as a family and talk about everything. We’ll get through it.”
Seawatt threw his arms around Evbo and pulled him in. Gently rubbed his back as the godling started to sob .
“I promise.”