Archive of Our Own

It was not supposed to be alive.

A terrible, terrible thing for any medic to think in this situation, but it was the only thing that would come to Ally’s mind as they held the newborn in their hands. It wasn’t supposed to be alive.

Under any other circumstance, they would’ve known what to do. However much they had wanted to deny it, Ally did have some experience in matters such as these. Being a medic meant you dealt with a lot of things, from minor scratches to life-ending injuries. Delivering babies, admittedly, was one of the rarest things, and something that they had only had to do on a couple of occasions. Still, they knew enough.

They had been told about Evbo’s condition beforehand. How he was so sick that he was delirious and combative. How he had run away from the very people who would want to protect him more than anyone else. How he had been hiding a pregnancy from his partners, and how the sickness and stress had come together to force this preterm labor.

It had been difficult for the godling, and his voice had turned broken and raspy by the end. Ally wasn’t even entirely certain that the child would be born without more invasive intervention that they didn’t feel comfortable performing on their own.

But he had done it. His baby was born, and now Ally was left with a dilemma that they hadn’t anticipated.

They had come here with the strict instructions to prioritize Evbo’s life over all else, and as such they had fully planned on delivering a stillborn child and then focusing on the godling. 

Not… not this. They weren’t expecting it to be alive. 

It- he- was incredibly tiny. Before they even cleaned the little thing up, they could see the telltale signs of jaundice from an underdeveloped liver, and while he squirmed and whined, he didn’t cry. His noises were soft, muffled. Weak. His breathing wasn’t as strong or steady as they would have liked.

And now, Ally had to make a decision. They couldn’t just ignore the child, leave it to die when it clearly had at least something of a chance to survive. But if they gave him the attention he needed, they would be neglecting Evbo’s needs, and that would be directly going against EMF and Seawatt’s wishes. They could ask one of the two to help, but they knew very well that it would only make everything worse. The duo were barely coherent enough to listen to Ally after everything that had come to light over the past few hours, and expecting them to listen to orders accurately and effectively was a fool’s errand.

They froze.

“...Ally?” The voice was weak, exhausted. Desperate. Desperate to know about the fate of his child, the little thing that the past few hours had been building up to.

Of course he wanted to know about his baby. Evbo had always been a dedicated parent; it only made sense that he was worried about the child he just brought into the world. 

Ally’s eyes snapped up, breath catching in their throat, as an entirely different scene wavered in front of their gaze.

…

“Ally! Stop sitting on your ass and get that baby breathing!”

The Fighter’s head whipped around, meeting the eyes of their fellow medic as they stood on standby, ready to take over chest compressions as soon as their mutual companion tired. They looked back down at the child in their arms, and saw pale, pink skin and frail blue frills. The baby looked so much like his mother, and was just as still as her as well. They snapped into action. 

Chest compressions on something as small as a newborn were very different from performing chest compressions on an adult, like what Faer and Con were doing. It was a delicate game, of trying to manually pump a too-small heart without crushing the soft organs hidden beneath bones that hadn’t fully hardened yet. They used their thumbs instead of full palms to the chest, but even that exhausted them quickly. 

“Dammit,” they hissed as they readjusted the baby on their lap. They were either going to lose the mother or the baby, and Parkour God be damned if they were going to let this baby die. They knew, just by looking at the mother, that there would almost be no chance at saving her. She had simply bled too much, too fast. And yet, their companions tried anyway, slowly working through instructions and procedures that they had learned over the years to properly resuscitate a patient. 

Ally was beginning to lose hope. They couldn’t tell if the blue around his gills was natural coloring or from a lack of oxygen, but they knew their time was running out. Just a little more. Just a little more-

All emotions and reason fled them entirely as they felt him shift beneath their hands, before releasing a loud, displeased cry. Crying was good. Crying was good. Crying meant alive, breathing, reacting. Crying meant that all of the fluid that had built up in his lungs and airway was clearing out, replaced with oxygen as he started to breathe on his own. 

Distantly, they heard Con say something sharply to Faer, who responded with a low, despairing tone. Finally, they seemed to give up. It had already been too long. It was over. 

They heard Con start to say her time of death, his voice flat and emotionless. Ally couldn’t look away from the child. Would he know what happened on this day? Would he ever learn what his mother had given up, to bring him into the world? The questions would remain unanswered as the two other medics, freed from the woman’s side, jumped to the newborn’s aid and took him away from Ally’s arms. They folded their arms against their chest and watched silently as their companions took over all of the necessary care to ensure that the child kept breathing, long after his mother had stopped.

…

“It’s a boy,” Ally said out loud, answering one of the many unspoken questions from the ill godling. A boy- a terribly small, underdeveloped boy. It should’ve been good news. It should’ve been the kind of news that would have parents grinning, crying of happiness. Not news to be shared in such a low, flat way. Evbo had always wanted a boy, Ally knew. What a terrible twist of fate for his dream to come true in such a way. “He’s… he’s very early, Evbo.” I don’t know how long he’ll keep breathing.

However terrible of a sick delirium Evbo might’ve been in, it was clear that his unconscious mind held the same priorities as his conscious one. His breathing was labored and harsh, weak and scared, and his voice was scratchy and rough. Barely even recognizably as the player that Ally had known and worked alongside. 

“Is he alive?” The godling whispered. “I…I can’t hear him crying…” Ally couldn’t tell if his soft voice was from fear or an inability to speak any louder. Either way, they were left with a dilemma on how to respond. 

The child was alive. He was very much so. But they couldn’t give Evbo false hope, not like that. His son might’ve been alive for the moment, but they knew well the trauma that both parent and child underwent during childbirth, and they knew that there was a very high chance that this life was fleeting. He couldn’t have been developed enough to survive on his own. Ally was scared to even cut the cord, severing the baby from his last source of outside protection and nutrients. They had to, but they feared doing anything that might disrupt the tedious balance that seemed to have been struck.

“He’s alive,” they said. It sounded unconvincing, even to their own ears. Evbo breathed in sharply and jerked up, desperate to see his son, but the Fighter could only step away and shield the baby’s tiny body from view. “But… I can’t promise he will be for long.” Harsh, mean, but objective. They had to be objective. “He’s weak. Very weak.”

“I… I need to…” Evbo’s harsh breathing only grew worse as he struggled to sit, to move, to get a better look. Ally did nothing to help. “Please, please-” He begged. “I need to see him. I need to hold him. Please-“

“No,” the Fighter said in a low tone. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you yet, and if it’s contagious, I don’t want it passing to him.” It sounded true enough, but their motivations for refusing the godling his son were more than that. They knew that he had nearly hurt one of his daughters not too long ago, and while the Evbo they knew would never do such a thing, this sickness seemed to have taken that carefulness away from him. They didn’t know what he would do to his tiny, fragile son if they gave him over.

Evbo let out a low, desperate whine, but he did lean back again, chest heaving. He closed his eyes, mouth half-open as his body desperately tried to recover. “I… I was hoping… for a boy…” He rasped. “A boy. A little boy. Where…” His eyes opened again. “Em. Sea. Where are they? Why aren’t they…?”

“I had them leave the room,” Ally said, not for the first time since they had showed up. He had been asking the same question repeatedly for hours, and every single time he seemed to get more and more upset. This time… was a bit different.

“Oh Parkour God…” he breathed. “My son… he’s- he’s gonna die. Isn’t he? He’s not gonna make it and- and they’ll never- they’ll never get to…”

“Hey, hey-“ Ally said sharply. They finally moved, training kicking back in at the reminder of the stakes. They clamped the cord, cut it, and wrapped the baby up without another thought, one hand firmly rubbing circles into his chest to help stimulate his breathing. His whine, thin and warbling, was so, so familiar to a sound that they had heard so long ago. “I’m… I’m gonna do what I can. I need to stabilize you first, and-“

“No!” Evbo snapped. “I’ll- hhk- I’ll survive. Please… please save him. Save him first. Please Ally. Please.”

“Your partners told me-“

“I don’t care!” Evbo’s voice cracked on the shout, and the force of it seemed to exhaust him even further. He let out a harsh wheeze and slumped, one hand cradling his head while the other pressed against his stomach. “Please. Please. I can’t… I ca-an’t…”

…

“What do you mean, he left?!” Ally snapped. Their raised voice disturbed the boy in their arms, who gave a thin, reedy whine in protest. They paid him no attention, instead setting all of their focus on Contrast standing before them. Con looked just as agitated, mouth set in a line and eyes narrowed with anger.

“He left!” They repeated, louder. “We told him about Mistaria and he just fucking left! Doesn’t want anything to do with the kid.”

“Did he want us to just save his wife? Did he not care about his son?!”

“Apparently not,” Con growled. “He’s pissed because he thinks that we let her die.”

“She hemorrhaged! What the hell were we supposed to do?!”

“Perform magic, I guess!” Con threw his arms in the air with a shout of frustration. 

“He might come back around,” Faer said from the other side of the room. The reptilian player was still cleaning up, her robes stained through with blood as she scrubbed. “He just lost his wife, guys. He’s probably not in his right mind at all. Give him a week or two to grieve.” She sighed and shook her head, eyes misty. “Mistaria and SpinDash have been together since the Layer fell. You can’t blame him for having such a strong reaction at losing her.”

“Well what are we supposed to do now then, Faer?” Con growled. “Cause in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a kid on the line! We can’t just throw the baby out to die.”

“I’ll ask around,” Faer said. “I’m sure somebody would be willing to foster the baby while Spin grieves.”

The baby in mention nuzzled into Ally’s chest, tiny fists gripping handfuls of fabric. He felt so small, so fragile in their arms. It was the first time they had ever held something so small, and they could barely even believe it. This tiny thing had a heart and lungs? It was alive? 

“I’ll take him, Ally,” Faer said. When Ally raised an eyebrow at her bloodied clothes, she rolled her eyes. “After I’ve cleaned up. Obviously. We just got all the blood off of him, I’m not adding more.”

Ally opened their mouth to respond, but as soon as they did, the baby let out another distressed cry. They looked down in surprise at the volume of such a sound, only to see that his little face had scrunched up. He pressed his nose into their clothing, searching for something that they did not have to give.

“Can someone please get this thing something to eat? I don’t think he’ll listen if I tell him that he’s not gonna get any food from me.”

“Shit. Yeah, I had something ready for him. I’ll be right back.” Con left the room, leaving an agitated Ally, the newborn desperately trying to suckle on their shirt, and Faer, who was finally cleaning her own arms and hands.

“Don’t be mad at SpinDash, Ally,” Faer murmured. “I’ve known them for years. He would’ve done anything for Mistaria. She had a lot of health problems. They didn't mean to get pregnant.”

“Why did they go through with it, then? If they knew it was such a high risk pregnancy, why didn’t they terminate?”

“I don’t know. That was their decision. I was her friend, but the personal decisions they made regarding their relationship had nothing to do with me.” She finally finished washing her hands, and she stared down at them for a long, quiet moment. “She was excited, I think,” Faer said softly as she looked back up at Ally and the baby they held. “No matter how Spin is acting right now, that baby was loved before he was born. I just… I hope he comes around to remember that.”

Ally jumped at the feeling of a purposeful tap on their shoulder. Con raised an eyebrow at the overreaction, but he said nothing about it as he handed Ally a freshly warmed bottle. They nodded their thanks.

“Come on, gremlin. You’re not gonna get anything from me,” they said. “Here. Stop that before you rip a hole in my clothing.” It took some patience, and a surprising amount of effort, but they were finally able to get the newborn to let go of their shirt and latch onto the bottle of formula. Immediately, he settled, baby blue eyes drifting closed and tiny hands wrapping around the source of food to the best of his ability. 

A spark of warmth lit up in Ally’s chest, something that completely caught them off guard. He was just… really cute. His skin was a soft pink, paler now that some time had passed, with small spots of blue around his eyes. He had short, stubby frills of a light blue color, soft and silky to the touch. He had a tail as well, similar to his frills in both color and texture. He really was the spitting image of his mother, with her axolotl-esque features, with spattering of his father’s coloring and eyes. Between hungry gulps, he let out soft trills and chirps of delight.

They sighed. “How long are we going to wait for SpinDash to come around before we decide he’s a lost cause?”

“Give him a few weeks,” Faer said. “If he still doesn’t want to take care of his son, we’ll look into finding him a permanent family elsewhere.”

Ally nodded, just a single time. “I can take care of him until then.”

“You sure?” Con asked dubiously. “No offense Al, but you’re always given me the vibes of someone who hates kids.”

“What can I say?” They huffed. “I think the little guy has started to grow on me.”

…

“What… does he look like…?”

The question came after a long period of silence, filled only with the sound of Evbo’s heavy breathing and his son’s distressed whines. Ally startled and glanced back. They had fully thought that he had fallen asleep, but the godling’s eyes were wide open and staring at Ally. There was a sense of clarity in his gaze that hadn’t been there before, and he hadn’t asked about EMF or Seawatt in some time.

“Evbo, you need to sleep.”

“I have… hafta know. I just wanna know he’s o-okay… please.” A small sob, pained and desperate. “If he’s gonna- gonna die, I just… just please. I wanna know…”

The baby had settled a bit, something that they would’ve been okay with under any other circumstance. In this one, it worried them. Every single breath that this child took was a breath that Ally hadn’t expected.

“He’s…” They let out a breathy exhale. “He’s really small. His skin is sorta yellowish right now, but that’s not natural, I think. His liver’s not quite fully working yet.” Just cry. Just cry already. They continued with the pressure, careful not to truly harm the child but trying to inspire enough of a reaction for him to properly start crying. “His ears are all folded up, really tightly, but I think they look like some sort of animal’s. Maybe a jackal? Definitely has your eyes. And your nose, though you’re probably not surprised by that. Not a lot of hair to go off of, but if I had to guess… I’d say maybe black?” 

“He’s Seawatt’s…”

“Yeah,” Ally said with a low, breathless chuckle. “Yeah, he’s definitely Seawatt’s.”

Evbo laughed, a small, exhausted thing, but joyous nonetheless. When Ally glanced back again, they saw tears rolling down his cheeks. “I think… I think Seawatt wanted… Cel to be his. He… he’d be so happy.” He blinked water from his eyes, fixing Ally with that small, small smile. “Is he cute…?”

Ally said nothing for a moment. “I’m gonna be totally honest with you, Evbo.” They shook their head. “I think this is one of the ugliest babies I’ve ever had the displeasure of looking at.”

It wasn’t really the baby’s fault, to be fair, or even his parents’. It was kind of ridiculous how blinded new parents were when they met their child- they always believed that they were just the cutest things ever, ignoring their wrinkled skin and squished skulls and general ugliness. This one looked no better and arguably even worse considering how underdeveloped he was. Sure, he had all of his limbs and features, but they all just looked weird, out of proportion and skinny.

“Nah… you’re totally lying.” Evbo laughed again, though he sounded even more exhausted this time. Like he was barely keeping himself awake. His laugh was stilted and unconvincing, like he was forcing it out.

The child still wasn’t crying properly. Ally was beginning to lose hope that he ever would. And Evbo… Evbo was getting weaker. Could the Parkour God die from something like this?

They didn’t know, but they knew for a fact that losing Evbo would mean terrible things for the world. No matter how much the godling wanted Ally to focus on his son, they knew where their priorities would have to lie.

They hesitated, then pressed their fingers to the baby’s upper arm. His pulse was too slow. Weak and fluttering. He still seemed to be struggling for breath, even though his airway was undoubtedly clear. They could tell just by watching that he was getting weaker by the moment.

That made the choice easier for them.

“Evbo, I’m… I don’t think there’s anything I can do for your son. He’s just… he’s not breathing properly. His heart’s too slow. He just didn’t have enough time to develop. I’m sorry.”

“No!” The panic was back, Evbo pushing through his own sickness and exhaustion to force himself up. He coughed, body shuddering. His pain was clear, though Ally couldn’t tell if it was the physical or emotional that caused that terrible expression to cross his face. “You… you can’t! You can’t give up! Please, please, Ally. You can’t give up on him!”

“Evbo, his organs are underdeveloped. He’s too weak. I’m trying to rouse him but it’s just… I’m just hurting him. He’s fading. I have to focus on the person that I can save.” They met Evbo’s wide, fearful eyes steadily. “I can’t let myself lose both of my patients.”

“I’ll survive!” The godling cried. “I’ll survive, just don’t… please, just don’t-“

“Listen to me, Evbo,” Ally cut off. “I want you to think about this. Really think about this, with however few living brain cells you’ve got left right now.” They slowly lifted the newborn into their arms, cradling him while they spoke. “I can keep doing this. Trying to rouse him. But he’s so premature, nothing I can do will fix that he just can’t survive on his own yet. All that will happen is that he’ll be in pain when he dies.” They closed their eyes and inhaled slowly. “Or you can hold him while he goes. Let him know that he’s loved. Let him pass feeling warm and safe. Give him just a few minutes of love and happiness, instead of making him suffer to the end.”

…

‘A few weeks’ quickly turned into several months. Ally had taken care of the baby the entire time, though they quickly grew annoyed with it. 

They had agreed to care for him until SpinDash came back for his son. They hadn’t agreed to adopt a child. They had already lost an unnecessary amount of sleep for a child that wasn’t even theirs, and they were quickly growing pissed with the entire situation.

(If asked, they would deny any other growing feelings. No, they didn’t feel a twinge of warmth when the kid would nuzzle against them. No, they didn’t want to shed a tear at the sheer cuteness of his big yawns, or the little scrunches he would do as soon as he was released from his nightly swaddle. It all meant absolutely nothing to them.)

Faer was the one to break the news to Ally, coming to their house one early morning while the child was sleeping. The medic wiped tears from her eyes as Ally answered the door with a displeased frown.

“Has SpinDash finally gotten his head out of his own ass?” Ally demanded.

“SpinDash is dead,” Faer said. Immediately, Ally found themself taking a startled step back. Their heart dropped into their stomach, making the entire world feel as though it had been flipped on its head.

“What?” Their voice nearly failed them. What did she mean that SpinDash was dead?! 

“He killed himself, Ally. We found him dead in his house holding the most ungodly concoction of a potion I’ve ever seen.” She paused, voice catching. Ally gave her a moment to regain her wits. Faer had been close to the duo, and they couldn’t imagine how hard this was on her. “There was only one thing he really left behind. No suicide note. Just…” She hesitated, then pulled a thin piece of paper from her pocket and presented it to Ally.

It simply said ‘Roxel’.

“What is this supposed to mean?” They demanded. Ally turned the paper over, but found nothing else.

“I think it was the name they were going to give him,” Faer said after a moment. “Roxel. Rox. Unless you already gave him a name…?”

“Of course I didn’t,” they scoffed. “He’s not my kid. If they wanted to call him Rox, then I guess his name is Rox.” They pinched their nose. They had agreed to watch this kid for a few weeks at most. Now what were they supposed to do with him? 

“We’ve started looking into potential families that can take him in permanently,” Faer said. “Just a bit longer, okay Ally?”

They parted ways after exchanging a few more words, leaving Ally alone to think about everything. They ran their hands over their face. They couldn’t tell exactly what they were feeling.

When the baby- Rox- started to get fussy again, they groaned and pulled themselves to their feet. They didn’t even know why they had agreed to this in the first place, and now they were wasting months of their life just because they thought this kid was kinda cute.

As soon as they picked him up, though, he settled. He let out a soft, pleased coo and pressed himself into their arms, and that warm feeling rose up again in their chest.

…

Evbo’s face was devoid of any joy when Ally finally let him hold his son. He only seemed to break down further, choking out a stilted, “Oh God,” as he took the child into his arms. It was as though the severity of his case was suddenly hitting him, like he finally realized why Ally said they couldn’t do anything more.

Evbo let out a sob and pressed his nose against the baby’s head. His shoulders shook, hands trembling, tears dripping into the baby’s thin hair. It was such an awful image for anyone to see, a parent mourning the life of a child that never got to live. It was hard for Ally to watch. That was the face of someone who loved their child above all else. If Evbo remembered any of this after he recovered, Ally knew, he would never recover from this loss.

They almost hoped that he wouldn’t remember it. They couldn’t imagine the pain it would bring him to hold this guilt for the rest of his immortal life.

Would Evbo blame himself? It was almost never the parents’ fault when situations like this occurred, but the guilt they held seemed to ascend beyond this knowledge. No matter what you told a parent, there would always be the thought in the back of their head. What could I have done differently? What if I had done this instead? What if I never did that? What if I got that problem checked out when I started to worry, instead of assuming everything was alright? 

You couldn’t predict something like a congenital heart defect, and really, who would jump to that assumption when it so closely resembled something like asthma or some other illness? When you hear wingbeats, look for birds, not dragons. It didn’t matter how many times they told themself that they couldn’t have done anything to save him. If they had just known-

No. This is not about you. 

Evbo. Evbo would blame himself forever. They knew that. He would forever blame himself for not treating his illness when he could, and he would forever believe that that decision is what took his precious son away from him.

“I’ll be on the other side of the room. My brewing stands are set up over there and I need to get some medication in you,” Ally murmured. They folded their hands together to hide the tremor that had started.

They hadn’t expected to have these memories fluttering through their head, though now they realized they were stupid for not realizing it would happen. There were a lot of circumstances this time that were different, but something about it still left the afterimage of pink skin and blue frills burned into the back of their eyelids. They shook themself intensely, desperate to recenter, before turning to their brewing stands. 

They could hear Evbo behind them, letting out soft whispers and choked sobs as he tried to come to terms with everything that was happening. He was still in pain, they were sure, and to have gone through all of that and hold your child, knowing that they were dying and there was nothing that could be done…

…

Rox had settled into Ally’s arms. He had tired himself out after a long day of exploring the house- crawling, babbling, getting into every single thing he wasn’t supposed to get into. Now, though, he was falling asleep. His thumb was tucked into his mouth and he sucked on it contently.

Something lightly tugged at their heart, not for the first time. As the months stretched into a full year, his pale skin had darkened into a more rich pink shade, and his blues had become much more bold. His frills had grown exponentially as well, no longer the stubby things they had been when he was born and now long, flowy whiskers that dragged behind him when he crawled.

He had begun to say a few words, mostly simple ones like ‘no’, but his voice was such a sweet little thing that Ally couldn’t help but melt at it. They found themself smiling down at him, one thumb running through his gills to help soothe him to sleep.

“I love you, Rox,” they murmured, the words slipping from their mouth before they even fully understood them. They froze, surprised at their own confession. The words had never even crossed their mind before, falling from their tongue right past their filter, and they almost took it back.

Then Rox let out a little sigh and nuzzled into their body. He continued to do so even when he wasn’t hungry. They had started to take it as a self-soothing thing. 

And they smiled at him. They didn’t take it back.

A knock on their door startled them out of their daze. They jumped, causing Rox to shift and open his blue-green eyes sleepily. Of course someone would have to come to interrupt them as soon as they finally got him to sleep.

They still pulled themselves up and went to the door. It could’ve been something important.

And so it was.

“Ally!” Faer said, eyes bright. She sounded excited about something, and extremely pleased with herself. “I have the best news! We found a family that’s willing to take Rox in long-term.”

Ally froze entirely. They could feel the blood draining from their face as they took in Faer’s delight, and really, why wouldn’t she be excited? They’ve been trying to find a family for Rox ever since he was born. It was a good thing that they found someone who wanted to take him in.

Why did that make a pit grow in their stomach?

Faer’s face started to fall when Ally didn’t respond with equal enthusiasm. She tilted her head, brow creased in concern. “Why don’t you look happy? What’s wrong?”

Ally opened their mouth and closed it again. They looked down at Rox, so warm and comfortable in their arms. He had fully woken up now, babbling softly as he pulled at every loose bit of fabric his tiny hands could reach. They sighed. “Actually, Faer…” Were they really about to say this? This was more than just a few words. This was a massive decision that they seemed to be making on the spot. 

But then they saw Rox and his big, round eyes, staring up at them, and they suddenly realized that this was the objectively correct decision for everyone. 

“Rox already has found a home,” they said firmly. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something earlier.”

“He has?” She exclaimed. Then, her shock melted into a brand new form of excitement and joy. “Wait, with you?”

They looked away in embarrassment.

“Ally! You’re gonna adopt him?!” Faer’s grin was blinding, and she reached forward to hug them, careful not to squeeze the baby held against their chest. “This is amazing! I’m so happy for you both!”

“Will the other family be… okay with that?” They asked hesitantly.

“Of course! They just wanted to know that he had someone to love him. Ohh, I gotta tell everyone!”

“Wait, Faer!” But the other medic was already gone, leaving Ally along with the child that they had apparently just adopted. They simply closed the door and paced back to their couch before flopping on it heavily. Rox reached for their hair, and Ally caught his tiny hands before he could pull on it. “Guess it’s you and me now, Roxel.” They sighed again, but now it was less annoyed, more affectionate. They leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his head. “I guess you’d better get used to calling me Nini, huh?”

…

 “I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…” 

Ally forced themself not to react to Evbo’s words. They weren’t meant for them, and yet they couldn’t help but feel each one tear through their chest. They chewed at the inside of their cheek, trying so hard not to wince as they heard the echo of words they had once said themself. 

They had reservations earlier about letting the godling hold his baby, but seeing the way he was acting now, they couldn’t imagine him ever trying to hurt the child. No part of him moved aside from his lips, frantically whispering promises and apologies like his son would die the second he stopped speaking.

Ally hated to interrupt the moment after their potions were finished brewing, but the sooner Evbo drank them, the better his own prognosis would be.

“Evbo, I need you to drink these,” they said, successfully keeping their voice low and calm. Evbo barely glanced up at them, as focused as he was.

As they watched, they couldn’t help but note the way that the baby seemed to breathe easier, cradled in his father’s arms. Did surges happen in children as young as this as well? Or was there something else going on?

“Evbo…” they repeated. He shook his head stubbornly. “You don’t have to let go of him. You barely have to look up.”

His eyes fell away from Ally entirely. He ran a gentle thumb over his son’s hair, brushing against soft, delicate strands with a softness they had never seen before. 

“He told me…”

The godling’s voice was a low, shaky whisper. 

“He told me that… that they would hate me. That they would try to kill our child if they knew.”

“Who would?” This was new information to Ally. He hadn’t given any explanation as to why he had reacted as he had, and they would take any hints they could to figure it out.

“Sea and Em.” Evbo curled into himself, arms carefully folding around the boy’s tiny body. “I was… s-scared. That they’d hurt him.” He hiccupped on a sob. “But… I don’t… I don’t think they would…” He lowered his face until his eyes were shielded from view, but his shoulders still shook with silent sobs. “I made a mistake,” he cried. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have listened to him. And now he’s… he’s gonna die, Ally.” He curled in further, arms entirely shielding his son from view. “He’s gonna die and it’s… it’s all my fault-”

…

“Nini!” A small, sweet voice called. Ally couldn’t help but smile faintly as Rox bolted in through the door. His face was all sunshine, grinning from gill to gill as he presented a handful of bright yellow flowers. “I got them! I got them!”

“Got what?” They played dumb, only because of the way Rox’s entire face would turn all grumpy and indignant whenever they did so. He lightly smacked their shoulder, pouting. “Come on. I can’t be expected to know everything.”

“You said that if I got flowers you’d show me how to make a flower crown!” He exclaimed. He pressed the golden flowers into Ally’s hands, eyes huge and expectant as soon as they finally took the offered plants. “You promised! You can’t go back on a promise!” 

“That doesn’t sound like anything I would say,” they teased. “Maybe you’ve gotten me mixed up for someone else.”

“Niniiii,” Rox whined. He grabbed their cloak and pulled incessantly on it, holding out the last syllable of the name the entire time. 

“Well… I guess I’ve got a few minutes.” They rubbed the top of his head, and Rox squeaked in response. Ally settled themself on the couch with the arrangement of flowers set in front of them, all the while Rox watched raptly, bright green eyes fixed on them. He chirped and twittered in delight. “But you’ve gotta watch closely, Rox, or I’m not doing it again. I’m busy, you know.”

Rox gave another wordless whine. It was clear that the boy didn’t always enjoy his only parent’s oftentimes busy work, but that meant that the time they did get to spend together meant so much more. 

As they led him through the steps, they couldn’t help but admire their son, and how much he had grown. It was hard for them to compare that little creature that they had to resuscitate, so long ago, with the bouncy, joyous young boy he was now. He was adventurous and excitable, eager to learn at every chance. Ally had a feeling that he would one day be a fantastic medic, if he decided to go that route, but whatever he decided to do, he would excel in. He was already constantly shadowing them while they were brewing, memorizing ingredients the best a nine-year-old could. 

There were moments, though, where Ally could see the cracks. The moments that showed that he wasn’t quite as developed as his peers. There weren’t a lot of kids on the Fighter Layer, especially not his age, but he struggled to keep up with them. Even now, with how short of a run it should’ve been from the nearest flower patch to home, he was out of breath. He was good at hiding it, but Ally had known him his entire life. They could see it.

They had done their best with his upbringing, though. Sure, he might struggle with asthma attacks or something similar, but those could be at least somewhat decently managed. At least, if he would be willing to sit still every once in a while. It just… wasn’t in Rox’s nature to do so. He wanted to move, jump, run. He wanted to challenge other players to playful races (not parkour races, never parkour races) and stand even a small chance at winning. 

It hurt their heart. Such a bright, energetic spirit shouldn’t be held back by bodily limitations like that. 

Rox repeated Ally’s instructions until they had two flower crowns, one almost perfect and the other barely holding together. Still, Rox looked immensely proud of his, grinning widely up at Ally with stars in his eyes. He climbed up on top of their lap and placed the crooked crown on their head, all the while chirruping in delight. Ally laughed softly and placed their own on his head. “Now we’re matching,” they said warmly. 

“I’m gonna go get more!” Rox announced. He jumped down from the couch and rushed back towards the door. Ally shook their head affectionately and brushed themself off, ready to go back to their own work, when suddenly-

A cry. Sharp and pained. Ally’s head whipped to the side at the sound, only to see that Rox had crumbled to the ground, clutching his chest and wailing in pain. They dropped everything and sprinted towards their son, entirely ignoring their flower crown as it flew from its spot on their head and landed on the ground. “Roxel!”

He wheezed, fingers desperately clawing at his chest and throat as tears filled his eyes. “H-hurts-” He choked, the words sounding strained and forced. A moment later, he gasped, his too-small body shuddering and gasping and wheezing for air like he couldn’t get enough. Every exhale was punctuated with a high-pitched, squealing whine, and every inhale was short and stilted. 

“Rox, look at me. Just breathe. It’s okay. It’s okay.” A part of them kicked in, years of training and practice, and their panic and fear fell away like mist under the sun. They scooped the boy into their arms, speaking calmly and strictly. Orders to breathe, to relax, to count each breath. Was this an asthma attack? It didn’t seem like it. There was something else wrong. Something so, so wrong. They had to act now, or else-

…

“Who told you these things, Evbo?” Ally pressed. There was something they were missing, a piece of the puzzle that would make everything click into place. They held the potion bottles perhaps a little too tightly, glass creaking against their gloves. 

Evbo’s shoulders tensed, and the breath he let out was short and strained. “Him,” he whispered. “T-The Parkour Villain. He’s been in my head-” He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers twitching as though wanting to clutch at his hair. Luckily, he still seemed to have enough wits to not abruptly drop his son. 

The baby was definitely breathing easier- they weren’t imagining that. He whined a little louder as Evbo’s hold tightened. 

Then. 

He cried. 

Weak at first, small and soft, but slowly gaining strength the longer he was held. The baby’s nose scrunched in displeasure and he cried. It was the very thing that Ally had been waiting for. The thing they had been hoping for.

He might survive. Parkour God, he might actually survive. 

Potions. Right. They could- they could do something for him. Could they? They could certainly try. 

“No, no no no,” Evbo whispered. “Please, please don’t cry. Please, I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s good that he’s crying,” Ally said firmly. They placed the potion bottles beside Evbo and immediately turned back to their brewing stand. “That means he has a chance.”

“How…?” 

“Babies are supposed to cry,” they huffed. Their hands moved faster than they had ever moved before, except maybe once or twice (to save another baby. One with pink skin and blue gills). “Keep holding him, Evbo. Take those potions. You need to keep your strength up, too.” I don’t know what’s causing this turnaround. If it’s just a surge or something more hopeful. But maybe I can save him. Maybe I can save him. 

To their relief, the godling finally listened, and a moment later they heard the clinking of glass as he finally took the potions. They would be working their magic soon, helping to regenerate the lost blood and replenish at least some of his energy. Every little bit counted.

They had to be terribly careful in weighing the dosages of this potion. Even a little too much could immediately wipe away all hints of life that he was showing. Too little wouldn’t help enough. Despite their best efforts, Evbo would absolutely not hand over his son for any reason, and so Ally had to get a bit creative. 

“You’re hurting him…” Evbo whispered. And, true, it was very clear that the newborn was not happy with having a tube shoved down his throat, but Ally knew better than to force something into the mouth of someone who wasn’t entirely able to swallow on their own. 

“I need to get this in him, and the other option is pouring it directly into his mouth,” Ally said strictly. “And I know you’re not aware of this, but that’s how you fill a baby’s lungs with fluid and kill them. It’s not a pleasant feeling, but I’m doing what’s best.” 

“...you said…”

“I know what I said,” Ally cut off. “But he’s crying. And if he has the strength to cry, he has the strength to fight.” The tube was placed, and they started to slowly administer their medicine. “And I won’t give up on a fighter.”

…

The next few days were the worst days of Ally’s life. They had lived through so much tragedy. They had seen the fall of the Fighter Layer and all of the death and destruction that had come with it. They had lost people themself during that genocide. 

But this… this was so, so much worse. 

After Rox’s attack, Ally had brought him to someone who was better versed in more in-depth health issues. Ally considered themself more of an emergency responder, not someone who knew how to treat more long-lasting health issues. 

And there were tests done. So, so many tests. They did the best they could with what little they had. Nothing would ever compare to the feeling that had come over their body as they listened to their son’s heart. They heard it. 

Hearts were such delicate things. Intricate in design and impossible to properly recreate outside of the body of a player. Many players had different features- some had fur, some had gills, some had scales, and some were simply human in appearance, but their hearts all sounded the same.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Rox’s heart did not sound like that. 

They didn’t want to put their son through the invasive tests that would be required to figure out exactly what was wrong, but if it was treatable, they had to know. They had to find out exactly what was going on so they could fix it. 

In the end, Rox gained a new suture across his chest, and Ally was given news that they never wanted to hear. 

Roxel was dying.

It was such a sudden thing, and Ally knew that realistically, they couldn’t have ever fixed it. Rox, sweet, beautiful, energetic Rox, simply had a defective heart. Too big, too weak. Unable to keep up with his growing body. He was born with it, they knew. There was nothing that could’ve been done to fix it or even prolong his life. 

Rox’s decline seemed to happen even faster. It was only days between him happily gathering flowers for flower crowns and him folded in Ally’s lap, sitting in his bed, quietly struggling for breath. His chest hurt and there was nothing that they could do. His breaths were stilted and they couldn’t fix it. They didn’t know how much longer they had with their beloved boy, but they knew it wouldn’t be much. 

Rox didn’t cry. He faced it bravely. When Ally couldn’t hold back their tears at seeing the angry red incision across his chest, he simply smiled and said that he thought it looked cool. When he was struggling, hurting, he didn’t complain. He simply crawled into Ally’s lap and sought silent comfort. 

What could they even say? What could a person say to their dying child, that wasn’t hollow? That Rox was loved? He knew that. They had told him that every day for years, and several times an hour since he had fallen ill. That everything would be okay? That was a lie, and they both knew it. That he would be missed? That sounded like they were accepting of his impending death.

So they said nothing. They just held him. His flower crown had grown brown and wilted, but Ally did not throw it away. 

They always said he had a big heart. If they had known the truth about that statement, they never would’ve said it at all.

They were scared. So, so scared. And not just of losing Rox, but of everything leading up to that.

What if he had another attack, and Ally was not there to help? What if he suffocated on his own bodily fluids, gasping and crying and Ally was none the wiser until they found him, after he had already gone. Alone. Afraid. 

It was almost a relief to lose him so early after his diagnosis. They hadn’t known what was about to happen when he crawled into their lap one last time, head gently resting over their chest. He gave a soft chirp, something soft and warm. He let his eyes drift close, listening to the beat of Ally’s heart. A steady ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, in the way that his own failed to do. 

And then, he slipped into his last slumber, and a moment later he was gone.

…

Evbo would be okay. Ally knew that. After everything they had seen and heard, they felt fairly confident in saying that he had some sort of infection, probably in the brain if they had to guess based on his symptoms. The only real test for such a thing was to look and honestly, Ally was not going to crack open his head when they could make a good enough guess. 

(It wasn’t good enough back then. They had made wrong assumption after wrong assumption, and so they never knew, they never knew-)

The thing was, despite everything, Evbo was the Parkour God. His body regenerated faster than any other player, and Ally suspected that applied to neurons as well. A brain infection, or more likely something like meningitis, would be almost ultimately fatal on any other player, especially after so long. Yet, Evbo’s condition seemed to have stagnated after a certain point. Evbo had told them before that he only seemed to be susceptible to illness when he was pregnant, so now that his body was no longer trying to keep both himself and his child alive, it likely would just bounce back like it would’ve under any other circumstance. 

It was good news, really. Not the diagnosis itself, but the prognosis. Evbo would ultimately be alright. 

His son, however…

Ally… Ally had no idea. Genuinely. He had moments where he seemed stronger and moments where he was weaker. They couldn’t figure out why, or which side would ultimately win. 

For now, Evbo was finally sleeping. How he had managed to stay awake so long after everything, Ally would never know. His son was asleep too, but his breathing was soft and even. They had taken the time to swaddle him in a soft blanket, warmed by the sun, and settled him next to his unconscious father. 

It was the first time since arriving that they felt like both parent and child were stable enough to leave. Hopefully, Seawatt and EMF were a little bit more reasonable now, though they weren’t counting on it. 

They gave a long, exhausted sigh and drew themself to their feet. Ally brushed themself off and shot another look towards Evbo. 

They knew that the godling was the highest power in the world, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t send a quick prayer that everything would turn out alright for him. After all, no parent deserved to know what it felt like to lose a child.

With a final, short exhale, Ally finally left the room to talk to the other two players waiting outside.

…

…

…

Starry was watching Mx. Ally very intensely. Nebby sat beside him and lightly bumped his side. When she traced his eyesight, she realized that it didn’t really seem like he was actually looking at the Fighter at all. They were deep in conversation with Papa and Father, though Nebby had heard enough to know that they weren’t really talking about anything serious. Or at least, nothing that involved her siblings, which was as far as she really cared. She tilted her head at her little brother as he looked up at her.

‘What are you looking at?’ Nebby asked. One of Starry’s ears twitched, almost as though he was surprised by the question. 

‘The boy,’ Starry responded simply. Nebby once again tried to follow his gaze, but still saw nothing. She sighed and ruffled his hair affectionately, something that Starry protested to with a whine. He blew a raspberry in her direction. 

‘Mx. Ally isn’t a boy,’ Nebby reminded him, but Starry only shook his head with a soft, frustrated grunt.

Honestly, he had no idea why Nebby seemed to be playing dumb. Was there something that Starry was missing about that boy? Was there a reason why they were supposed to be ignoring him? If that was the case, nobody had bothered to tell Starry. Then again, a lot of people liked to leave him out of the loop. His siblings were the only ones that seemed to care about telling him things sometimes.

And yet… Nebby seemed genuinely confused. She was acting like she genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

The boy finally seemed to notice that Starry was staring at him. He jerked, as if startled, then gave a small, conspiring smile. He lifted one webbed finger to his mouth in a ‘shush’ing motion, then tilted his head towards Mx. Ally. His long blue frills twitched with mischief. Starry looked at them, then back at the boy. 

Somehow, Starry had a decent idea of what the boy was trying to tell him. For some reason, he didn’t want Mx. Ally to know that he was there.

So Starry didn’t say anything to them. He simply kept his hands to himself, saying nothing, and gave no hints that he saw anyone at all.

_________

Rox :3