Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air in the house was thick with unspoken anguish, a stark contrast to the usual boisterous energy of the Sun and Moon household. Sun, his ray-like solar flares usually bright with enthusiasm, were now stiff with anger, casting sharp shadows on his face. Moon, typically cool and collected, was hunched, his lunar phases dimming, radiating a silence that only fueled Sun’s frustration.

“Just tell me, Moon!” Sun’s voice cracked, echoing through the living room. “Why do you always keep everything to yourself? Why can’t you trust me?”

Moon flinched but remained silent, his gaze fixed on the worn rug. His secrets, heavy and numerous, felt like lead in his chest, too burdensome to articulate, too dangerous to share. He knew Sun loved him, but some things… some things were better left buried.

Sun stared at his brother, a surge of despair washing over his fury. “Fine,” he bit out, turning on his heel. “If you won’t talk, then I’ll give you space. Lots of space.”

The front door slammed shut, rattling the windows, leaving Moon alone in the oppressive quiet. Solar, Jack, and Molten, who had been trying to make themselves small and invisible in the corner, watched Sun’s departure with sinking hearts. They knew this argument had been brewing for a while, but the finality of that door slam felt different, colder.

Moon felt the weight of their worried gazes, but he couldn't face them. He just needed to breathe. To think. To escape the suffocating walls of his own mind. Without a word, he slipped out the back door, needing the cool night air to clear his head, walking aimlessly into the familiar darkness of their property.

Only a few minutes later, a muted struggle, a muffled cry, and the screech of tires sliced through the night. Inside, Molten frowned, “Did you guys hear that?”

Solar, his usual optimism clouded with concern, peered out the window. “Hear what? Maybe it was just an animal?” But his gut twisted with unease.

Hours turned into a long, terrifying night. Moon didn't return. Panic began to set in. They called his name, searched the yard, then the surrounding woods, their calls growing increasingly frantic. Lunar and Earth, informed by a tearful Molten, arrived, their faces etched with fear. Moon was gone. Vanished without a trace.

Four days stretched into an agonizing eternity. The house, usually vibrant and full of life, became a tomb of worry. The family launched a desperate search, plastering flyers, calling everyone they knew, their hopes dwindling with each passing hour. The police were involved, but leads were scarce, frustratingly so.

Then, on the fourth day, the front door creaked open. Sun stood there, his anger replaced by a weary regret. He had come back, ready to apologize, ready to try and mend things. But his gaze met the shattered faces of his family, and he knew instantly something was terribly wrong.

“Moon,” he whispered, his voice catching. “Where’s Moon?”

Solar, his eyes red-rimmed, choked out, “He’s… he’s gone, Sun. He disappeared the night you left.”

Sun’s world tilted. Guilt, sharper and more painful than any anger he’d ever felt, pierced him. He had left his brother, angry and vulnerable, and now Moon was gone. He rallied, his regret transforming into a fierce, desperate resolve. He wouldn't rest until Moon was found.

The search intensified, Sun pushing them all, pushing himself, driven by a desperate need for redemption. They scoured abandoned buildings, followed every whisper, every vague tip. And then, finally, a call came. A remote, derelict warehouse on the outskirts of town.

They found him huddled in a corner, barely conscious, his body bruised and broken, his face devoid of its usual lunar glow, replaced by a hollow, vacant stare. He was alive, but barely. His clothes were torn, his skin marred, and something in his eyes was profoundly, terrifyingly absent. The family rushed him to the hospital, their relief battling with a new, horrifying dread.

The doctors worked tirelessly, patching up the physical wounds. But the emotional scars were deep, raw, and evident in Moon’s complete withdrawal. He wouldn't speak, wouldn't meet their eyes, shrinking from any touch.

Then, the doctor sat them down, his face somber. “There’s something else,” he began, his voice hesitant. “During his examination… we ran some tests. Mr. Moon is… pregnant.”

The words hung in the sterile air, a cruel, impossible truth. Sun stumbled back, his mind reeling. Pregnant? Moon? It was a sick, twisted nightmare. Solar gasped, Jack covered his mouth, and Molten simply stared, a silent scream caught in his throat. Lunar burst into heartbroken sobs, Earth pulling her close, equally devastated.

The implication was horrifyingly clear. Moon hadn't just been kidnapped; he had been brutalized, violated in the most monstrous way imaginable. The secrets he had kept, the silence he had held onto, now seemed tragically small compared to the unspeakable horror he had endured.

Moon, lying in the hospital bed, registered the news with the same vacant stare. He felt nothing, yet everything. The life growing inside him was a constant, horrifying reminder of his trauma, a dark shadow that had eclipsed his very being.

Sun sat by his brother’s bedside, a silent sentinel of regret and rage. His face was a mask of grim determination. He reached out, gently taking Moon’s unresponsive hand. “I’m so sorry, Moon,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so, so sorry. I should have never left you. But I’m here now. We’re all here. And we’ll get through this. Together.”

Moon didn’t respond, his gaze still fixed on some unseen point in the distance. The road to recovery would be long, fraught with pain and unimaginable challenges. The trauma of those four days, the violation, the unwanted life blooming within him, had shattered him. He was found, but a part of him remained lost, adrift in the darkness. He would need time, endless patience, and unwavering love to even begin to heal from the unspeakable horrors he’d endured. And his family, heartbroken and furious, would be there every step of the way, ready to fight for him, to protect him, and to help him find his way back to the light.

Chapter Text

The hospital room became their new, grim reality. Days bled into nights, marked only by the hushed whispers of nurses and the rhythmic beep of machines. Moon remained locked within himself, his eyes open but vacant, seeing nothing, acknowledging no one. His once vibrant lunar glow was utterly extinguished, replaced by a hollow pallor that spoke volumes of the darkness he had endured. Doctors spoke of severe trauma, post-traumatic stress, and a dissociation so profound it was almost a physical barrier. They offered therapy, medication, but ultimately, they said, healing had to come from within.

Sun, true to his word, rarely left his brother’s side. The initial surge of guilt had settled into a deep, aching wound, fueling an relentless vigilance. He held Moon’s hand for hours, talking softly, recounting old jokes, reading from Moon’s favorite astronomy books, anything to stir a flicker of recognition. His own solar flares, once brilliant with life, were now muted, their energy channeled into a desperate, constant warmth for his unresponsive brother. He saw the faint rise and fall of Moon’s chest, felt the fragile pulse, a constant affirmation of life, yet the Moon he knew, the one who teased and pondered and dreamt, felt impossibly far away.

The news of the pregnancy hung over them like a toxic cloud, a cruel paradox of life and violation. Lunar, ever the sensitive soul, found herself torn between heartbroken revulsion and a nascent, painful sense of protectiveness. How could this be? How could something so fundamentally good – a new life – be born from such an unspeakable evil? Earth, practical and grounded even in her grief, began researching, quietly looking into support groups, into the legal ramifications, trying to find solid ground in a world that had suddenly tilted on its axis. Solar, Jack, and Molten struggled too, their grief mixed with a simmering rage at the unseen monster who had done this. Every touch, every gentle word directed at Moon, was laced with the unspoken question: What now?

The police investigation, meanwhile, yielded little. The warehouse was scoured, forensics collected, but it was clear that the perpetrators had been careful, leaving almost no trace. The lack of answers only intensified the family's frustration and rage. Sun, when he wasn't by Moon's bedside, spent hours on the phone, badgering detectives, re-tracing steps, a dangerous glint in his eyes that spoke of a fury barely contained. He knew, with an icy certainty, that he would make them pay. He would find them, no matter the cost.

Weeks turned into a month. Moon was discharged, not healed, but stable enough to be cared for at home. The house, once full of laughter, was now a sanctuary of sorrow, echoing with the family’s soft footsteps, their whispered conversations, and the crushing weight of Moon’s silence. He sat by the window, staring out at the familiar garden, but his gaze was still distant, unseeing. The small, almost imperceptible curve of his abdomen was the only physical change, a testament to the life growing within him, a life that was both a miracle and a living nightmare. They watched him, their hearts aching, knowing that the real battle – the battle for Moon himself – had only just begun.

Chapter Text

The battle for Moon himself was a war waged in silence. He remained a still, pale figure, a ghost in his own home. Sun would sit beside him for hours, reading aloud, sometimes just humming a tune Moon used to love, his hand resting lightly on Moon’s forearm, feeling the cool, papery skin. He yearned for a squeeze, a flinch, anything to indicate a spark of the brother he remembered, but received only the unblinking, distant gaze. Lunar, heartbroken but resolute, brought him meals, coaxing him to eat with gentle words, often leaving extra blankets he didn’t seem to notice. Earth managed the household, a silent general, ensuring the quiet was preserved, the routines maintained, a fragile shield against the chaos within.

As the weeks continued their inexorable march, the small curve of Moon’s abdomen became more pronounced, a silent, undeniable testament to the life growing within. It was a constant, stark reminder, a wound that deepened with every passing day. Lunar found herself placing a hand, almost unconsciously, on Moon's belly when she passed, a gesture of both horror and a burgeoning, fierce protectiveness. The notion of terminating the pregnancy had been discussed, whispered about in hushed, agonizing tones, but quickly dismissed by an unspoken consensus. Moon was, in every sense, unable to make such a decision, and the family, despite their revulsion at its origins, couldn't bring themselves to make it for him. The new life, innocent and unchosen, was intrinsically linked to Moon, and that alone seemed to demand its preservation.

Sun’s solar flares, once brilliant and warm, now crackled with a cold, contained fury. He maintained his vigilant bedside watch during the day, but as twilight bled into night, a different kind of energy consumed him. His phone calls grew furtive, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur as he spoke to contacts outside of official channels. He spent hours on his computer, sifting through dark web forums, cross-referencing names, his jaw tight, his eyes glowing with an intent that was both terrifying and utterly dedicated. The police, he knew, were bound by rules and procedures. He was not. Every placid moment with Moon, every unseeing stare, fueled his resolve. He would find them. He would make them pay for every tear, every silent hour, every stolen piece of Moon’s light.

One afternoon, nearly three months after his return, a faint tremor rippled through the quiet house. Moon, sitting by the window as always, had his hand resting unconsciously on the subtle swell of his stomach. A tiny flutter, barely perceptible, seemed to ripple beneath his palm. His vacant eyes did not change, but his fingers, ever so slightly, curled around the spot. Sunlight, catching the subtle movement, believed he saw a flicker, a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift in Moon’s gaze, a moment of connection, however primal or unconscious, to the life within. It was gone as quickly as it came, if it had even been there at all, but Sun held his breath, his own heart thrumming with a desperate, burgeoning hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, the battle for Moon himself wasn't entirely lost. Perhaps, even in the deepest darkness, a new dawn could begin to stir.

Chapter Text

The days that followed were a torturous blend of the mundane and the miraculous. Sun, now hyper-aware, watched Moon with an agonizing intensity, searching for another sign, another faint ripple in the still waters of his brother’s mind. There were small, almost imperceptible moments: a hand drifting to his abdomen without conscious thought, a barely-there sigh that seemed heavier than usual, a subtle tilt of his head towards a particularly bright ray of sunlight. Each one was a tiny seed of possibility, a fragile thread that Sun clutched with the ferocity of a drowning man. He began talking to Moon differently, no longer just reading, but speaking directly to the growing life, whispering stories to the subtle swell, believing that perhaps, in this shared, unspoken connection, Moon might find his way back.
Lunar, observing these same almost-movements, found her protectiveness deepening into something akin to reverence. She would bring Moon warm drinks, carefully arranging pillows, her gaze often lingering on the gentle curve of his stomach. The baby, no longer just an abstract concept, was undeniably there, a living, breathing testament to Moon’s endurance, and a beacon, however dim, of potential future. She started knitting, her nimble fingers working yarn into tiny, soft blankets and hats, a silent act of defiance against the horror that had birthed this new life. Earth, ever the pragmatist, saw the shift too, the subtle hope beginning to unfurl its tentative leaves in the desolate landscape of their grief. He adjusted their routines, ensuring Moon had more time in the sun, more quiet moments where he might feel the burgeoning life within.

Meanwhile, Sun’s nights burned with a colder, more dangerous fire. The flicker of hope, the almost-connection, only sharpened his resolve. It was no longer just about vengeance for a broken brother, but for a new, innocent life, a life that deserved a world free from the shadows that had nearly extinguished Moon’s. He had found a name, a digital breadcrumb leading to a network of unsavory characters. His phone became an extension of his will, his calls growing bolder, his questions sharper, his threats veiled but undeniably potent. He moved like a specter through the dark corners of the internet, a predator honing in on his prey. The raw, guttural pain of seeing Moon’s vacant eyes, the silent pleas he imagined in every unseeing stare, transmuted into a lethal focus. He was no longer just Sun, the warm protector; he was the storm, gathering his wrath, ready to unleash it on those who had dared to touch a piece of his sky. The quiet house, holding its breath for Moon’s return, was unknowingly sheltering a nascent war.

Chapter Text

While the house breathed with the fragile air of burgeoning hope, Sun moved through its rooms like a phantom, his true self tethered to a digital underworld. His laptop became the window to a labyrinth of encrypted forums and burner accounts. He wasn't just searching for a name; he was dissecting an entire network, piecing together profiles, cross-referencing IP addresses, and learning the coded language of the depraved. Sleep became a fleeting, unwelcome visitor, replaced by the relentless thrum of caffeine and an icy, focused rage that sharpened his intellect. He built dossiers, not just on the shadowy figures, but on their patterns, their vulnerabilities, their preferred methods of operation. He found their digital fingerprints on discarded data, their echoes in forgotten servers, weaving a tapestry of their crimes with the precision of a master hunter.

Lunar, her hands perpetually busy with soft yarn, noticed the deepening shadows beneath Sun’s eyes, the way his shoulders seemed to carry a heavier weight even as his movements became sharper, more economical. Earth, too, caught the flicker of something colder in Sun’s gaze, a quiet intensity that spoke of battles fought in silence. They exchanged worried glances, attributing it to the unrelenting strain of Moon’s condition, to the unspoken grief that still hung heavy in the air. They couldn't know the true nature of the fire that burned within him, that the warm protector they knew was rapidly transforming into an avenger, forging weapons from information and resolve.

One afternoon, as Sun sat beside Moon, recounting a fragmented memory of their childhood, Moon’s hand, almost casually, drifted to his swollen abdomen. A small, involuntary sound, a breath held and released, escaped his lips. And then, a distinct flutter, a tiny drumbeat against Moon’s palm, visible even through the fabric of his shirt. It wasn't just a movement; it felt like a greeting. Moon's eyes, though still distant, seemed to soften for a fleeting moment, a ripple on the surface of his internal lake. Sun caught his breath. In that instant, all doubt, all weariness, evaporated. The life within Moon was not just a symbol; it was a living, sentient being, feeling and reacting. It was a promise, and Sun would tear the world apart to ensure that promise was kept, that this new life knew only safety and light.

The digital breadcrumbs, now a clear, illuminated path, led to a specific organization, a grotesque enterprise masked by legitimate fronts. He had names, faces, and locations. The 'nascent war' was no longer nascent. Sun had identified the primary targets. He knew where they lived, where they operated, and perhaps most crucially, how to get to them. The storm was no longer gathering; its first, fierce drops were about to fall. The quiet house, pregnant with hope and sorrow, was about to become the epicenter of a very personal, very brutal reckoning.

Chapter Text

The fragile threads Sun clutched began to strengthen, intertwining with an undeniable force. One afternoon, as he whispered a story of starlight and soft landings against Moon's subtle swell, his hand resting light as a feather, a faint, internal tremor pulsed beneath his palm. It wasn't just a muscle spasm; it was a distinct, almost rhythmic flutter, a whisper of life. Moon’s eyes, though still distant, momentarily widened, a fleeting ghost of awareness, and a shallow, involuntary breath hitched in his throat. Sun froze, his own breath catching, a raw, primal surge of joy and terror tearing through him. He saw it, felt it – a flicker of recognition, a primal response to the life within him. He pressed his forehead against Moon’s, tears blurring his vision, a silent promise forming on his lips: I will protect you both.

But as the days bled into nights, the protective instinct transformed into something far more lethal. Sun’s calls grew less veiled, more direct, his voice a low, dangerous growl on the phone. He was navigating a digital underworld, a labyrinth of encrypted messages and anonymous contacts, trading information for access, promises of pain for locations. Sleep became a luxury he couldn't afford, fueled instead by cold coffee and a burning, singular purpose. The gentle touch he offered Moon by day was replaced by the unforgiving click of a keyboard and the chilling precision of a hunter by night. He watched the flickering map on his screen, a predatory smile, devoid of warmth, playing on his lips as a new dot appeared, marking a target, drawing him closer to the architects of Moon’s suffering. The warmth had receded from his core, replaced by a cold, hard star of vengeance, radiating an energy he could barely contain.

Lunar, wrapped in the comforting rhythm of her knitting, noticed Sun’s gauntness, the shadow under his eyes, the way he flinched at sudden sounds. She attributed it to the shared grief, the relentless weight of their situation. She would leave him plates of food, often untouched, and watch him retreat to his room, hearing the low murmur of his voice long into the night. Earth, observing silently, sensed the fissure growing within Sun, a hardening around his edges that was both unsettling and, paradoxically, reassuring in its fierce protectiveness. He saw the subtle changes in Moon too – the way his hand now often cradled his stomach without prompt, the almost-smile when Sun read, the way he leaned into Earth's gentle touch. The house, once a tomb of sorrow, now hummed with these conflicting energies: the blossoming, fragile hope of new life, and the gathering, potent storm of retribution. The air grew thick with unspoken anxieties and unacknowledged dangers, a quiet countdown ticking towards an inevitable confrontation.

Chapter Text

He moved through the house like a wraith, navigating the familiar darkness with instinct. His personal arsenal, a discreet bag packed hours ago, hung heavy yet balanced on his shoulder. Every creak of the floorboards was anticipated, every shadow familiar. As his hand reached for the lock on the front door, a voice, calm and deep, cut through the oppressive stillness from the porch outside.

"Going somewhere, Sun?"

Sun froze, his fingers hovering over the cold metal. He knew that voice. A cold, heavy knot tightened in his stomach, not of fear, but of a complication he hadn't accounted for. He slowly eased the door open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the faint glow of the streetlights. Solar. His older brother, leaner, sharper, with eyes that seemed to hold both the warmth of a distant sun and the icy pragmatism of deep space.

Solar stepped into the threshold, his gaze sweeping over Sun, missing nothing. "You didn't think I'd let you go into this alone, did you?" There was no judgment in his tone, only an understanding that resonated with the darkness in Sun's own heart.

Sun's jaw tightened. "This isn't your fight, Solar. I need to do this."

"It's always been our fight, little brother," Solar replied, his voice a low rumble. "Moon is family. What happens to one of us touches us all." He took another step inside, closing the door softly behind him, severing their connection to the peaceful night. "I’ve been watching. We all have. You think you’re a ghost? I taught the first ghost how to haunt." A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched Solar’s lips. "I know these shadows better than you know your own reflection. Give me the coordinates."

For a long moment, Sun just stared, a silent war raging within him. Part of him wanted to push Solar away, to claim this vengeance purely for himself, but another, deeper instinct recognized the familiar, formidable strength standing before him. Solar wasn't offering to stop him; he was offering to join him, to amplify the storm. And in Solar's eyes, Sun saw not just the shared grief for Moon, but the echo of a history he was only beginning to understand.

From the hallway, Lunar’s soft gasp broke the tension. She had emerged from her room, drawn by the hushed voices, her face pale in the gloom. Her eyes darted from Sun's rigid posture to Solar's unwavering calm, a fresh wave of terror washing over her. Earth, however, stepped out from Moon’s room, her gaze meeting Solar’s across the dim hall. There was a shared history in that look, a silent acknowledgment of the path Sun was now irrevocably on. Earth’s shoulders, which had carried so much unspoken dread, sagged almost imperceptibly, as if a monumental weight, while not lifted, was now at least being shared.

Sun finally nodded once, a terse, almost imperceptible dip of his head. "Room 3B, old distillery district. They're expecting a shipment tonight."

Solar inclined his head. "Excellent. Let's make sure they receive more than they bargained for." He turned, his movements already aligning with Sun's, a predator recognizing its co-hunter. The house, which had been a haven, now felt like an empty chrysalis, the brothers having shed their former selves. The quiet promise whispered to Moon now had an echo, a double entendre of impending wrath. "Soon, Moon," Sun repeated, his voice barely audible now, "soon, it will all be over." This time, Solar simply placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent testament to their shared, grim purpose.

Chapter Text

Far away, in the heart of the city’s underbelly, Sun was finally reaching his destination, the red dot on his mental map now glowing, absolute. He was a hunter closing in on his prey, completely oblivious to the unexpected, seismic shift occurring in the home he had just abandoned, a shift that would irrevocably alter the landscape of his retribution. His hand, cold and steady, reached for the ajar door of the grimy warehouse, the hum of his phone in his pocket a distant, ignored vibration. All that existed was the shadowed interior, the faint scent of stale cigarettes and something metallic – the promise of his long-awaited reckoning.

Back at the house, the quiet no longer existed. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer, their urgent cry a counterpoint to Moon’s escalating pain. Earth, her face grim but her movements precise, was already helping Moon onto the gurney the paramedics swiftly brought in. “Contractions are coming fast, about two minutes apart,” she called out, her voice strained. Lunar, clinging to Moon’s hand for a moment, felt the tremors of his body, saw the sweat beading on his brow, and the sheer terror in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Moon, you’re doing great,” Lunar whispered, though her own voice was shaking. The paramedics, a flurry of efficient motion, were already monitoring vitals, preparing for transport. “Hospital’s just ten minutes away, we’ll be there in no time,” one of them assured them, but the words felt hollow against the tidal wave of Moon’s agony.

As they carefully maneuvered the gurney out, Lunar finally got through. The phone line crackled, then Sun’s voice, sharp and distracted, cut through. “What? Lunar, I’m busy. I can’t talk right now.”

“Sun! It’s Moon! His water broke, he’s in labor, Sun, he’s having the baby! He’s… he’s in so much pain!” Lunar’s words tumbled out, a desperate, broken torrent. “We’re going to the hospital! Please, Sun, please come! He needs you! We all need you!”

Miles away, the cold steel of vengeance against Sun’s palm suddenly felt like ash. The warehouse door, half-open, now a gaping void. The red dot on his mental map, once so vivid, flickered and died, supplanted by a blinding, terrifying image of Moon. His twin, his other half, in danger, bringing new life into a world Sun was trying to burn down. The phone slipped from his numb fingers, clattering on the pavement. The world tilted on its axis. New life. His brother. Now.

He sprinted, a blur against the pre-dawn dark, his carefully laid plans scattering like dust. There was no time for revenge, only for rescue. He fumbled for his phone, dialing Solar’s number with shaking hands. “Solar! Drop everything! Moon’s in labor! Get to the hospital! I’m on my way!” He didn’t wait for a response, already hailing the first cab he saw, barking the hospital address, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs.

By the time Lunar, Earth, and Moon arrived at the hospital, the emergency room was a swirl of hurried activity. Moon was rushed straight into a delivery room, the urgency in the doctors’ voices palpable. Lunar and Earth were left in the sterile, brightly lit waiting area, the silence now deafening, broken only by the frantic beat of their own hearts. Every tick of the clock was an eternity.

Just as the first sliver of dawn painted the sky outside the panoramic window, the automatic doors hissed open. Sun, dishevelled, his eyes wide and haunted, burst through, Solar close behind him, equally pale and breathless. Their eyes locked with Lunar’s. There was no need for words, no time for angry accusations. The shared fear, the raw, primal terror for Moon, knit them together in an instant.

Solar was the first to speak, his voice hoarse. “How is he?”

Lunar could only shake her head, tears finally overflowing. “They took him in. It’s… it’s too early. The doctors just said they’re doing everything they can.”

The waiting stretched on, an unbearable agony. Sun paced, a caged animal, the cold resolve from hours before replaced by a crushing guilt. He had been so close, so consumed, while his brother, in the delicate balance between life and death, was fighting to bring a new soul into the world.

Then, about two hours later, an exhausted doctor, still in scrubs, emerged from the delivery room. Her smile was weary but genuine. “He’s doing well. You have a beautiful, healthy baby boy.”

A collective gasp, then a wave of profound relief washed over them, so potent it left them all weak-kneed. Sun stumbled forward, tears streaming down his face, a raw, choked sob escaping him. The bitter taste of vengeance was gone, utterly purged by the overwhelming, unexpected miracle of new life. The landscape of his retribution had not just shifted; it had been completely, beautifully, irrevocably redefined.

Chapter Text

The first few days home were a blur of exhaustion and overwhelming, tender love. Nexus, tiny and impossibly perfect, had consumed Moon entirely. Sun, Lunar, and Earth hovered, a protective, adoring circle, but it was Moon who felt the deepest, most profound shift. Every feed, every diaper change, every soft coo, cemented a bond that transcended the pain of his past. The world had narrowed to the warmth of his son, and for the first time in months, the chilling shadow of Dark Sun had receded, replaced by the radiant glow of new life.

It was the quiet hum of the night, a few days after their return from the hospital. Moon, still fragile but his heart full to bursting, stirred from a light sleep. Nexus’s soft cry, a hungry mewl, was the only sound in the nursery. He carefully, gingerly, eased himself out of bed, his body still protesting the trauma of childbirth. He picked up his son, cradling the tiny, swaddled bundle close, already feeling the primal ache of protectiveness.

He remembered Earth showing him where the pre-prepared bottles of formula were kept in the fridge downstairs, along with a kettle for warming. He needed to be quiet; Sun was probably asleep, having spent the last few days a vigilant, silent sentinel. Lunar and Earth had gone home for a much-needed rest, promising to return in the morning.

Moon made his way down the stairs, each step deliberate, the old house groaning faintly under his weight. The soft glow of the motion-activated nightlight in the hall guided him. He reached the bottom, pushing open the kitchen door, the scent of the cool night air mixing with the faint, comforting aroma of coffee from earlier.

And then he froze.

The kitchen light was on, not the soft nightlight, but the full, harsh overhead glare. And standing there, by the breakfast bar, was a figure. A figure that made the breath catch in Moon’s throat, made his blood run cold, made every single nerve ending scream in terror.

Dark Sun. He stood, casual and insidious, a half-empty glass of water in his hand, his eyes, dark and knowing, already fixed on Moon. A slow, chilling smile spread across his face, a predator spotting his prey.

Moon could feel Nexus stirring in his arms, oblivious. He clutched his son tighter, a silent, desperate prayer forming on his lips. His heart hammered, threatening to burst from his chest. The room spun. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The fear, so long suppressed by the urgency of labor and the wonder of new life, returned with a vengeance, raw and suffocating.

Just then, a door slammed upstairs. Sun. He must have woken up. Moon heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs, then his voice, sharp with concern. “Moon? Is everything okay? I heard Nexus...”

Sun appeared in the kitchen doorway, his eyes still heavy with sleep, then widened in an instant as he registered the scene. The bottle, still cold in Moon’s hand, clattered to the floor, forgotten. Moon was a statue of terror, holding Nexus like a shield. And Dark Sun, a dark silhouette against the stark kitchen light, his smile widening further.

The air crackled. The relief, the joy, the new-found purpose that had filled Sun’s heart in the hospital, evaporated in a flash of pure, unadulterated rage. The red dot, once extinguished, exploded back onto his mental map with a fiery vengeance, consuming everything else. It wasn't just about his retribution anymore. It was about their retribution. For Moon. For Nexus.

"What are you doing here?" Sun's voice was low, dangerous, a growl ripped from the depths of his being. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to spring. He was no longer just a hunter; he was a furious, protective beast, guarding his most precious treasures.

Chapter Text

Dark Sun’s chilling smile merely widened, a predatory glint in his eyes as he took a slow sip from his glass. He didn't even look at Sun at first, his gaze remaining fixed on Moon, on the tiny bundle clutched so desperately in his arms. "Why, I've come to meet my son, of course," he purred, his voice a low, silken poison that slithered through the quiet kitchen. "And to claim what's mine."

The words hit Moon like a physical blow, stealing what little air remained in his lungs. He instinctively pressed Nexus closer, his body shaking violently, a silent sob catching in his throat. He could feel Nexus's soft, innocent breath against his chest, totally unaware of the monster who claimed him.

Sun stiffened, his entire frame vibrating with suppressed fury. The red dot in his vision didn't just burn; it consumed. His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping violently in his cheek. "He is not yours," he snarled, taking a deliberate step into the kitchen, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. "You forfeited any right to him the moment you laid a hand on Moon." Sun’s eyes, usually warm and comforting, were now shards of glacial ice, fixed on Dark Sun with lethal intent.

Dark Sun finally lowered his glass, setting it down with a soft clink on the polished stone of the breakfast bar. His gaze flickered to Sun, a flash of amusement in his dark eyes. "Oh, but he is. My blood. My legacy." He gestured lazily towards Nexus with his chin. "A rather perfect specimen, wouldn't you say? Strong. Untainted. A new beginning." He began to walk slowly around the breakfast bar, not towards Sun, but subtly, insidiously, towards Moon. "And a much more suitable heir than any of you could ever provide."

Moon whimpered, a low, animalistic sound, his gaze darting between Dark Sun’s approaching figure and the protective, rigid form of his brother. He wanted to scream, to run, but his feet felt rooted to the cold tile. Each slow step Dark Sun took was a hammer blow to Moon’s already fractured resolve. Nexus, sensing the tension, let out another soft whimper, stirring faintly in Moon's arms.

"Don't you dare come near them," Sun roared, his voice cracking like thunder. He moved then, a blur of motion, positioning himself directly between Dark Sun and Moon, his body a formidable wall. He was breathing hard, every cell in his body screaming for vengeance. "Get out of my house. Now."

Dark Sun stopped, just a few feet from Sun, a taunting smile still playing on his lips. "Or what, dear Sun? Will you finally unleash that temper you’ve kept so carefully caged? You forget," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I know you. Better than you know yourself. And you have so much to lose now, don't you? A precious little nephew... a fragile brother... all within my reach." His eyes, cold and calculating, flickered past Sun, straight to Moon, a silent, chilling promise in their depths. "Imagine the chaos."