Work Text:
‘1 new email from FindMyFamily’
Soren hovers over the notification that’s been sitting unanswered for an hour. He knows he has to click on it at some point. He paid for the damn DNA test, filled out all the paperwork, took an hour out of his day to go to the post office to send it off. Why stall now?
The notification stares him in the face. Like a threat.
When Ike had first suggested it, Soren assumed he wouldn’t get any results. It’d be a waste of fifty dollars and they’d move on as if they never tried.
But instead, the first line of the email taunts him. ‘We found 5 matches!’
Five? How could there be five? Who are these people? How many of them knew about him before he was thrown away like last night’s leftovers?
This isn’t to build a relationship or to get answers for my childhood. It’s more important than that. Click on the email.
He watches his thumb shake but refuses to push down. Frustration builds in his chest before he closes his phone and tosses it on the bed.
“Hey, you’ve been up here for a while. You okay?” Ike pokes his head into their room and immediately notices the tears that prick at the edge of Soren’s eyes. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
“I…I can’t open the email.” Soren drags a ragged breath in as he viciously swipes away the tears.
“I’m guessing you got the results back?” Ike closes in and rests his hand on the small of his husband’s back.
Soren nods with a sniffle. Strong arms envelop him as Ike closes the distance and pulls him into his chest. He takes a deep breath, letting the earthy smell of Ike’s eucalyptus soap fill his lungs and calm him.
“I’m sure you already know this, but just in case I’m going to say it out loud anyway.” Ike sighs with a smile as he rubs gentle circles into Soren’s back. “Whoever you find in that email, whatever they have to say, you are still you .”
Slender hands clench around the fabric of Ike’s shirt as Soren hums noncommittally. Ike gently rocks them side to side as he smiles.
“Handsome. Smart. Caring. Funny.” Ike punctuates each word with a loud kiss to the top of Soren’s head.
Soren chuckles with a watery laugh while he rubs his face into Ike’s chest to dry his tears.
Ike presses a soft kiss into his cheek before he easily picks up the phone.
“Do you want me to open it for you? Or do you want more time to ready yourself?” Ike pulls away just enough to watch his husband’s face.
“Mmm…” Soren darts his eyes away as he chews on his lip. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to open it. Can you?”
“Anything for you, Love.” Ike presses their lips together softly before wrapping his arms back around Soren and opening the email behind him so he doesn’t see it.
It isn’t hard to find the notification. It seems to be the only thing Soren hasn’t swiped away or dealt with.
“Five?” He mumbles under his breath as he quickly taps into the email. “Holy shit. You look just like her.”
“Her?” Soren peaks his head out from Ike’s chest and watches his face. There’s a shocked sparkle in his eyes as he slowly taps on the screen.
“Your mother.” Ike lowers his eyes to watch Soren process the words.
‘Your mother,' never had one of those before.
“Looks like you have a couple of uncles and a set of grandparents too. All on one side but maybe she knows the medical history of your father too. Or how to get a hold of him.” Ike returns his attention to the phone and swipes on the screen.
“Gods. You could be this guy’s twin.” Ike whistles as he clicks. “‘Rajaion’. Cool name. Aw, looks like he has a wife and kid. So you’ve got an aunt and cousin too.”
“I…I want to see.” Soren’s hand shakes as he holds it out for his phone. Ike gives him a single nod before gently placing it in his hand. ‘Rajaion’. They really could be twins. He even has a birthmark on his forehead, just like him. He clicks back to look at the woman labeled ‘mother’.
“She’s really pretty. I see where you get your looks from.” Ike hums as he sidesteps to hold Soren in his arms and rests his chin on Soren’s shoulder so they can look at the thin lines that connect him to a group of strangers.
“She has her phone number listed. But I don’t want to just call her. What would I even say?” Soren glares at the screen.
If it’d come back with zero results, he could have just put the whole thing behind him. But now he has to face the music. They wanted this. This is the best outcome. He could get answers.
And if this woman, his 'mother', was on this site? It must mean something. It’s for people to find each other across the endless crowd of strangers. Someone in this group of five wanted to find him. And they all decided to put themselves here.
Or maybe they were looking for someone else. Maybe this woman only put herself on here for one of her brothers to help find a cousin or something.
“Did you put your contact information on there?” Ike bends forward just enough to watch his husband’s face twitch and grimace.
“No. I…I don’t want anyone I don’t know calling me out of the blue. They gave me away. Now they have to wait for me.” His eyes squint in a glare as he stares at the woman’s photo.
“Well, take your time. There’s no rush-”
“But there is!” Soren turns on him, tears building back up rapidly. “How are we supposed to move forward if we always have this looming over us?”
“Babe,” Ike sighs as he gently pulls Soren to sit on the foot of their bed with him. “If you aren’t ready to reach out, it’s okay. We can use my genes for the first one. And when you’re ready and we’re ready, if everything checks out, we can use yours for the next.”
“But…The whole point of checking is because of all the cancer on your mother’s side.” His shoulders sag as he looks back at the phone in his hands. “Maybe…maybe she gets texts. I can spend some time figuring out my wording. Then, if she doesn’t respond, we can move forward without the information.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Ike rubs his thumb across Soren’s cheek, gently guiding their faces together.
--
He types and deletes and types and deletes. How is one supposed to say “hey! I’m the son you abandoned! My gay husband and I want to have a baby so tell me about any mental and physical health needs I should know about! K thanks bye!”?
What if she’s homophobic? Or anti-science? What if she’s a conspiracist?
“I need to call Mist.” He huffs and puffs as he digs his phone out of his pocket. If there's anyone in the world who can help him, it'll be Mist. He's seen firsthand how she manages to be kind and polite while standing her ground and protecting her boundaries.
“Hello?”
“Hey, um…I…I did this family tree thing and well…I could really use your help.” He braces himself for the high-pitched squeal that rings out of his phone.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! I’ll be right over!” And just like that, the line went dead. He hadn’t expected that . Maybe some squealing and ‘kindness’ tips. But now he needs to prepare to have his sister-in-law over. If she’s bringing the baby, it’ll take her a minute to get here so that should give him enough time to make the bed and get the laundry started.
Instead of getting ready though, he plops on to the bed and puts his head in his hands. If Ike’s family wasn’t riddled with cancer and cystic fibrosis, they would just go with his genes. Hell, they probably will anyways. It’s Ike that cares about continuing his family’s legacy after all.
But it was Soren who first said they should have a baby. He hadn't realized it was something he wanted until meeting Mist’s first. When that squishy little guy had been put in his arms and they watched each other in quiet contemplation, he suddenly came to a reality of how badly he wanted to just keep holding the little bundle in his arms. When Finlay reached up and tugged a strand of Soren’s hair with a bright gummy smile, something shifted inside him. That night, he had all but ambushed Ike and told him he wanted to start a family.
He and Ike were already deep in the process of researching and reading and readying themselves when Mist had told them she and Boyd were going to start trying for a second. Less than a month later, she came bouncing into their home with the happy news. Now Mist has welcomed a second child home after just a year and a half.
Jealousy bites at him even though he knows it’s irrational. Even if he had his entire family history, they still wouldn’t have been able to have their own baby that quickly. And even if he and Ike were a straight couple, there’s no telling if they would have as much luck as Mist and Boyd. According to the rumor mill, Mia recently gave up on having a child after spending thousands on IVF treatments and still not getting anything to catch.
Just as he lifts himself up to make the bed, he hears his front door burst open with Mist calling his name.
“Here Ike, hold her.” Soren hears the excited command followed by quick steps before she bursts into their room. “Oh my god! Show me!”
He can’t stop the eye roll as he clicks the mouse to wake his computer. She all about shoves him out of the way to squint at the woman on the screen.
“Damn. She’s pretty.” Mist gasps before taking a seat and opening a new tab.
“What are you doing?” he drawls, a headache already starting to set in. He loves his sister-in-law, obviously, but she’s a lot. A lot of noise. A lot of emotion. A lot of energy. And worst of all, has a lot of ideas.
“Looking her up. Duh.” She huffs at him without ever stopping. “Here she is! Hm…okay doesn’t look like she’s in an MLM, that’s good. She looks the type so I was a bit worried. Oh she’s a sales rep for Goldoan Couture. That’s cool. Huh.”
“‘Huh’ what?” He tries to look over her shoulder but she blocks his view with a guilty look. “Mist. What is it?”
“It’s…well.” She takes a deep breath and gives him her saddest puppy dog eyes before sliding out of the way. “Under the family connections…she has a son. Some guy named Pelleas.”
Soren’s stomach drops. Was the test wrong? No. He and Ike immediately saw the family resemblance. Mist saw it too. Did she have another kid? Someone she deemed worth keeping?
“Hmm…this guy doesn’t look much like her…maybe he takes after your dad?” She hums to herself as she scrolls.
“Whoever he is, no one is my dad. ” Soren seethes behind her. Mist watches him from over her shoulder and gives him a tight smile.
“You’re right. Sorry. Sperm donor?” She suggests, as a peace offering. Years ago he may have felt prickly about her tone of voice but after so much time around her and the rest of Ike’s family, he knows she’s being genuine.
“Bio father is fine.” He crosses his arms over himself, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Okay, so your goal is to find out medical history, yeah?” She turns the seat around to look up at him. “Is there anything else you want from her? Any kind of answers you’ve been looking for? Like where you got your wicked smarts from?”
“I won’t give any of them credit for the hard work I’ve put into myself.” His brows knit together as he frowns at her. “But no. That’s all I want.”
“Okay. Give me just a second.” She nods shortly before swinging back around and going to the word document. “Wow. Soren?”
“Yes?”
“You suck at this.” She laughs like her father, boisterous and loud, before she quickly deletes everything he typed and starts over.
He fiddles with his sleeve cuff as he paces around behind her.
“Done!” she chirps as she kicks herself and the chair away from the desk.
“Okay let me read over this.” He glances at her as he crouches in front of the screen.
‘Hello Ms. Almedha,
My name is Soren Gawain and I recently received my results from the ‘FindMyFamily’ website. I received a notification with you listed as my mother, as I’m sure you did as well. My partner and I are trying for a baby but we want to check our families’ medical histories before starting.
If you could be so kind, I would appreciate any information you can give me on the topic.
Thank you.’
“Well. It’s not perfect. But it’ll do.” He groans as he opens the document on his phone to quickly copy and paste the message into his texts. “Maybe she won’t even respond.”
“Are you hoping she won’t?” Mist cocks her head up at him.
“I…I’m not sure.” He takes a seat on the floor and pulls his knees to his chest. “What if…she’s just as bad as I’ve always pictured? Or worse? Or she was that bad but now she’s better? What if she has other children? Who she deemed worth keeping? Why was I thrown away?”
The madam of the foster home always made sure to tell him how he was unappealing to potential adopters. How his cold demeanor and harsh words always scared away people who could have loved him. Is his very being so sour that even as a baby his own parents couldn’t take it?
His assigned doctor had told him how sickly he was as an infant. How he’d shake and cry so fiercely they thought his lungs would go out. Maybe her other son had been more tolerable than Soren.
Or was it the same reason so many others seemed to hate him? Had she seen his strange birthmark and been disgusted by it? Something about it seemed to enrage people anyway. Like the other boys in the home who had held him down once and tried to cut the mark off with a knife they had stolen from the kitchen.
He can’t look at Mist. He knows what he’ll see and doesn’t need her pity. So instead he buries his face further into his knees and stifles the emotions that bubble in his chest.
“Soren?” Mist places a gentle hand on his shoulder and waits for his eyes to lift and meet hers. “Whoever this woman is, she does not define you. You are worth keeping. No matter what she may or may not say or do. You are loved.”
Her smile wavers as she abandons the chair and wraps him in her arms. Not too long ago he would have resisted the affection. But now, Soren simply leans his head into her shoulder and allows her to rub gentle circles into his back.
--
"This is probably the dumbest thing I've ever done." Soren glares at the ridiculously ornate door of a stupidly huge mini-mansion.
"Do you want to go back to the car? Call her and say you'd feel more comfortable meeting somewhere public?" Ike wants to put his hand on the small of his back to comfort him but Soren had specifically requested they act as 'friends' just in case. Ike had questioned him on why he cared what she thought of them being gay while they were getting ready but Soren had simply huffed and rolled his eyes as he pulled on a shirt. In the car, he finally admitted that he was afraid she would run them out of the house and they wouldn’t even get what they came for. If Ike had to guess, it went further than that. But such a confession will only come when Soren is ready to give it.
"No. I only plan to have one meeting with this woman and I doubt she'd go into any details in a crowded cafe." He picks at his nails as they stall at the door. The space where his ring usually rests feels empty and too thin so he rubs at the spot to make the phantom hold disappear. "Besides, whatever theatrics may or may not happen, I'd like to be private."
With a final deep breath, Soren reaches out a single finger and rings the doorbell. They can hear the gentle chime inside, and right as it ends the door opens wide for them.
"Hello- woah. Wow. You must be Soren." A tall, skinny man with wavy blue hair smiles tightly at them. There's a certain discomfort he fails to hide as he steps to the side to welcome them in. "This way. Mom is…well my- our? I'm not sure how you feel about her being referred to as your mom."
The man, Pelleas if Soren is remembering correctly, bounces awkwardly as they step in.
"I don't know her. She is simply Almedha to me." Soren sucks in a breath and tries to relax his forehead. He knows he's glaring and needs to stop if he's going to get the information he wants.
“Ah, I see.” Pelleas taps his fingers together after he shuts the door behind them. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I’m being so rude! My name is Pelleas, I’m Almedha’s…adopted son. And you are?”
“Ike, Soren’s friend.” The way his lip quirks at ‘friend’ as he reaches out to shake Pelleas’s hand is not lost on Soren. After so many years of being able to admire the shining band on Ike’s hand, a strange ache gnaws at Soren with it hidden away in Ike’s pocket.
“Adopted?” Soren stumbles on what he wants to ask. He can’t be rude here. Even if anger sits in his chest like a lead ball. He was easy enough to throw away but this guy is so wonderful he was taken in? If she wanted a son so badly, why not take back the one she had?
He feels his spine shaking, tight and hot, where his rage builds. Disposed of and replaced. Like a shoe you decided you didn’t like the color of.
“Well, until about a few weeks ago, we thought I was you. Turns out, that’s not the case. And Mom only had the one child so, no possibility for it to be me. It’s kind of crazy how similar our birthmarks are.” Pelleas rocks back and forth on his feet as he explains. While Soren’s resentment doesn’t completely vanish, it calms from a tsunami to a wave. Pelleas lifts his bangs awkwardly and shows off the mark that is eerily similar to his own. “But uh…anyways…let’s go sit down. Yeah?”
Eventually, he ushers them into the sitting room, an obnoxiously tidy and decorated space that displays the absurd wealth they have. Pelleas sits opposite to the two of them, crossing his legs under himself in a big fancy chair while Ike and Soren sit stiffly on the couch. When Ike naturally sits close enough to brush shoulders, Soren silently scoots himself further away even though everything inside him wants to burrow into the safety of Ike’s side.
The three sit in silence while a clock ticks back and forth, counting the seconds in a pitch that makes Soren want to throw up. It’s painfully uncomfortable and the strain in his spine makes him want to bolt from the big fancy house and never look back.
“So where is Almedha?” Soren pipes up, having to clear his throat before he speaks.
“Oh, she’s baking cookies I think. She wanted you to have something warm and sweet while you’re here.” He doesn’t look angry or offended by Soren’s presence, instead, he seems just as nervous.
“I see.” Soren gives him a short nod before he forces himself further onto the couch to try to get more comfortable for this horribly painful encounter.
“You really do look just like her- well actually you look like Grandpa. Well, when he was young anyways.” Pelleas picks up a tiny spiky metal band and rolls it up and down his finger. “I…I kind of suspected that I wasn’t the boy she was looking for, many years ago. I’m glad you were able to find each other. I-”
“Don’t get your hopes up for a brother.” Soren would have bit his tongue if his regret was as fast as his anger. “I’m only here for a few questions. And then I will be out of the picture.”
Pelleas’s face pinches in pain, his lips curling while his brows push into a small peak.
“I understand.” Pelleas nods as he pulls his feet out of his seat. “I’m sure she will too. Though Uncle Kurth will be upset over never getting the chance to meet you.”
“He’s Almedha’s younger brother, correct?” Soren honestly couldn't care less but if it helps to force time along, he can suffer some useless information.
Pelleas nods and the conversation dies again.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
Soren wipes the sweat on his palms onto the thighs of his jeans and watches the second hand of the clock jostle as it continuously clicks forward.
"So is it just you and Almedha in this big house?" Ike pipes up, apparently tired of twiddling his thumbs.
"Oh no, well, no. I used to live here." Pelleas tugs at the metal ring on his finger. "But it's actually Uncle Raj and Aunt Ena's house. Mom lives here with them, but they're not home right now."
"I see." Ike nods quickly, his head bobbing so much it tossals his hair.
"I live with my partners now." He waves vaguely. "Well, my girlfriend and her partners. She's poly and that works fine for me. To me, the two of them are like platonic partners. If that makes any sense? They’re both great people but I can’t see myself being- being with them. You know?"
"Yeah I think so." Ike nods, flashing a look at Soren. How does Almedha feel about this situation? Does she know?
Soren similarly darts his eyes at Ike in surprise. People? As in not both men or both women? Is this girlfriend of his bi? How does that play into his sexuality?
Ike quirks his brow as subtly as he can as the two of them sit as stone-faced as possible while silently screaming to each other.
Pelleas rocks himself gently as he takes in the not so subtle glances. After having a short conversation with them, it’s clear as day that they’re not straight themselves but are they pan-phobic? Or maybe they believe being poly is just permission to cheat. It took so long to explain to his mother that that isn’t the case, he doesn’t know how he would tolerate having to explain it to his own community.
Just as Soren is ready to smash the clock, a short woman with long curly hair rushes into the room with a tower of cookies on her plate.
"I'm so sorry I made you wait like that. They only had a few minutes left and I didn't want them to burn- I'm sorry." She sits the plate on the coffee table as if it might bite her, pulling away and taking a step from it. "You…you're Soren."
She holds her hands out as if she is preparing for a hug but jerks them back to herself. She reaches out a hand but when Soren makes no move to do the same, she pulls it back as well.
"I'm you- Almedha. And you've met my boy Pelleas." She gestures at him briefly before stepping quickly to the unoccupied chair. "And you must be Ike?"
"Yes ma'am." Where Soren lacks the courtesy, Ike extends his hand and receives a welcomed handshake.
“And the two of you, are friends ?” Soren feels like her eyes are boring into them, searching for answers that she doesn’t have the right to.
“Yes.” His tone is clipped but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. The damn clock keeps ticking and he just wants the medical history. The sooner she starts listing things, the sooner he and Ike can leave this place and pretend it never existed.
“Mm.” She takes a heavy inhale as she straightens her back. “You know, I was hoping I would get to meet your partner - I know we don’t know each other but it would have given me more insight into-”
“Ms. Goruda, I’m not interested in reforming lost connections. I simply want to know what medical issues to look out for in any future children my partner and I have.” He can’t stand this. Why should he have to play nice with the person who abandoned him? The one person in the world who was supposed to be a guaranteed source of love.
“I…I understand.” She bites her lip as she reaches into the side table and pulls out a manilla folder. “I must admit that I don’t know much of our family’s medical history. But thankfully Rajaion does and he was more than happy to help.”
The folder slides across the coffee table easily at her manicured fingertips.
“You’re 24, a full grown man with a spouse and plans for a family.” Almedha forces a smile as tears build in her long lashes. “I understand you don’t have any need for me.”
“I’m not 24 yet. My birthday isn’t for another two weeks.” Soren can’t help the way his eyes narrow as his head cocks. How could she care so little that she doesn’t even remember what day he was born? Does he really mean that little to her? And yet here she is, trying to act like the welcoming mother.
She chews harder on her lip as she pulls on her own fingers.
“May I explain?” Her gaze meets his shyly, all watery-eyed and heavy-lashed. “My therapist said that she believes it’d be good for me to tell you everything- if you’re willing to hear it, that is. I won’t force you. You don’t owe me anything.”
The folder crinkles where his grip tightens around it but when he turns his head to see what Ike thinks, he’s met with a soft reassurance. The ball is in his court.
With a heavy sigh, he gives her a single short nod.
She gives him a small bow of her head before she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
“When you were born, I had just turned 18 and was still heavily addicted.” Her hands knead each other. "You were born just after the New Year, on the second. You were so… small. Every time I sat you down I thought you'd break. You were only a few months old when Ashnard- your father- took you from me. I had thrown away our stash so that it'd be harder for me to get high- I wanted to get clean, for you. He…he was enraged by it. So he took you. Whoever found you must have assumed you were younger than you really were because you were so small."
Soren chews on the information. As he turns the story over in his head, he remembers the madam of the foster house whispering to someone over how it was a shame they didn't know his real birthday. He had assumed at the time they must have been talking about someone else. Is it possible this woman is telling the truth? But she said she was an addict. How reliable can her account of that time be?
"I thought you wanted to tell me everything." Soren leans back into the plush couch with his arms crossed over his chest. "That sounds like a lot of missing information to me."
"Yes…" She grimaces as she readjusts in her chair. "I didn't want…to make you uncomfortable. Okay. Okay, everything. When I was 16, my mother passed. She was the glue that held my family together. Without her, my father and I couldn't be in the same space without it delving into a screaming match. So I ran away from home."
Pelleas keeps his eyes on Soren while Soren keeps his eyes on Almedha. A silent and stiff hunt for information.
"Within a week, I was in a pit I couldn't climb out of. I hadn't taken any money with me since I was afraid my father would have reported me to the police as a thief." The creases in her forehead deepen as she scowls. "Then I met Ashnard. He was…20? At first, our relationship was purely… transactional . Then he offered to let me live in his apartment so long as I helped him with his sales . Within a few months, I was just as in love with thin white lines as I was with him. Back then, Ashnard was freedom and euphoria."
Soren looks her up and down quietly. It's easy to imagine how a homeless teen could fall into a situation like hers. Though for someone addicted to something as hard as she is hinting at, she looks surprisingly well .
"Then when I was 17, I got pregnant." She takes a deep breath to steady herself and Soren can't bite his tongue in time.
"It's impressive how long it took." Soren gives a tiny huff as Ike thumps his thigh with his knuckles, not painfully but firmly, while Pelleas scowls at him. Almedha's breath comes out ragged as she smiles bitterly.
"I had resources to remove the first two." The lines around her eyes seem to dig deeper into her skin when she grimaces at him.
Soren squirms uncomfortably in his seat and breaks his gaze away from hers.
"At that point, I was so addicted, I worried they'd arrest me. And at 17 Ashnard had me convinced I would've been tried as an adult." She sighs as she sinks further into her chair. "And then he got violent. Whenever he wasn't high he'd scream that if I got him arrested, I'd find myself six feet under. So I refused to go to the doctor, no matter how much nausea or pain I was in. I also tried to resist the heroin but it…"
Her words seem to catch in her throat and the only thing that fills the silence is the disgusting ticking of the clock. Its constant clink stabs into Soren's ears like a blunt knife.
"I started smoking at twelve." Soren offers, more as a way to get her to move on than a peace offering. Anything to silence the damn ticking. "I imagine the snare it has on you is similar."
"Do you still?" She nearly whispers the question. It's as if she's terrified of the answer, terrified of her child following her path.
"No." It's a topic he's always been cagey about. "The madam for the home sent me to rehab as soon as she found out. Not that she noticed quickly though. But that's not what we're talking about right now."
"Right." She clears her throat as she reaches for a cookie. Almedha turns her big watery eyes to him and wrings her hands. Her chest rises and falls erratically as she debates whether to speak or hold her tongue. "I just had hoped…since you weren’t with me, that you’d at least be safe from my…habits.”
Soren gives her a hard look as he crosses his arms. Not even Ike is privy to that part of his life.
“Well…like I said earlier, a couple of weeks after I turned 18 you were born.” She looks away, ashamed and hurt. ”It was a home birth…and…I was so scared you wouldn't make it. There was so much blood and I didn't have any kind of medicine. Another girl who ran the corner with me back then was there to help. She had apparently helped a cow give birth once."
She pinches a small piece off the cookie, barely more than a crumb on the tip of her finger, and nibbles it. Tears well up in her eyes before she manages to take a deep breath to squelch them.
"I was terrified that the moment someone saw you they'd rip you from my arms." Her grip tightens and the cookie breaks, leaving a pile of crumbs in her lap. "So I never took you to get your paperwork. As far as the government knew, you simply didn't exist. Gods, I still feel so guilty for that choice. I should have taken you to the hospital. You shook so much. You fussed and fussed constantly. It didn't matter how much I fed you or rocked you or let you suckle. You just cried and shook relentlessly. I…I didn't know what it was at the time but I knew it was my fault. Later, I researched it…you came out of the womb addicted."
Wet trails form on her cheeks when she can't hold the tears back anymore. She breathes shakily, the air catching in her throat and coming out like a hiccup. Pelleas reaches out a hand and touches the tips of his fingers to her knee.
“I…I tried to quit. I’d try and try and try .” She swipes away at her eyes with her long sleeve. “But I’d be clean for two days and then I wouldn’t be able to take the withdrawals anymore. I would be sick as a dog for a few days, get high, feel ashamed, ‘quit’, and rinse and repeat. And I saw how it affected you. You would just sleep for so long I was afraid you’d died. Then when the high wore off you would cry and scream.”
Almedha tips her head back to look upwards as she tries to compose herself.
"I was so mad at myself- I still am, truthfully." She sneers at the ceiling before she turns her gaze back to her crumb filled lap. "Looking back, what I did to 'fix' the situation was downright stupid. I took the stash we had and disposed of it. I didn't want it near you. I was so scared that I'd get high and try to give you some just to get you to settle. Gods- I’m so sorry."
Bile builds in the back of Soren's throat. He hasn’t smoked in almost a decade, but nevertheless, he fell into it. Was he pre-programmed to be an addict? Would any child of his be?
"That's when Ashnard took you…it was late March and still cold." She rubs her forearm with her hand, the cookie forgotten in her lap. "I begged him to give you back. I was sure he was going to kill you. When I tried to grab you, he hit me so hard I flew into the wall. I should have fought harder for you. But I was in withdrawal, and exhausted from nursing and rocking you, and when I had hit the wall my arm felt like it was on fire."
"Why didn't you call the police?" Ike grits his teeth, in rage at or for Almedha, Soren can't tell.
"I…I was scared." She chews at her lip and grimaces. "I was terrified that the police wouldn't get there in time to save my baby and then they'd lock me up and throw away the key. It was selfish."
"If you assumed I was dead, why bother putting yourself on the family tree sites?" Soren's eye twitches. There's no proof for a word out of her mouth. Hell, the whole story could have been a drug-induced dream.
"I couldn't give up hope. When Ashnard came home, he claimed he had left you at a fire station." She picks the pieces of the cookie out of her lap and sits them gently on a napkin on the table. "He said 'maybe if he can survive the night, you can find him'. I thought maybe if I brought him heroin, he'd take me to the place he left you. He didn't. He laughed in my face and called me a stupid bitch. I'd say it was one of the few truths he ever said. A week later I started making my way to my older brother's house and when I got there I told him everything. I thought that maybe he could work a miracle and find you."
He wants to make a snide remark about how her brother clearly didn't, but he doesn’t want to deal with her bursting into tears as she seems ready to do. As she continues her story he becomes more and more sure he shouldn't have let her start.
"He…put me in a rehab center. Whenever he came to visit, all I wanted to know was if he had found you." A high-pitched hope echoes in her voice. That maybe he would forgive her for how long it took. For being found rather than finding. "Of course, he never did. He said he looked within a fifty mile radius of where Ashnard and I had been living. And I trust that he did. But it had been days and the tail end of winter before he was able to start his search."
Her eyes turn to watch him but Soren can't stand to look at her. All those years of being in a home for boys. All those years of feeling thrown away. All those years of assuming wherever he had come from was a place of discontent. And now at 24, this strange woman is claiming some wild fantasy drama of a story.
"My brother Rajaion welcomed me into his home after I was released from the facility." She turns her eyes away and watches the same spot on the wall as Soren. "He made sure I was with a good doctor and staying clean. There were so many times I nearly slipped back into it, but he was always there to talk me through it and find healthier ways of coping. He even helped me find a steady job. Once I proved that I could hold down a terrible job with terrible pay, he put in a good word for me at a company his business was partnered with."
"What does this have to do with me?" Irritation bubbles in his throat. What's the point of this conversation? He just wants to go home. Back to the safety of his and his husband's abode.
Why should he even listen to this garbage? Would she be willing to hear how his life was after he was left for dead? About the times he was beaten and bruised by the other boys. About the way one of the volunteers would let their hand wander down his back. About how the madam would sneer down at him as she spoke. About the young girl that passed him a cigarette and promised him it would take some of the pain away. About how desperately he wanted to take some of the pain away.
"I'm getting there." She has the gall to smile at him and he seethes. "I started out as a cleaning lady. Then I got into therapy and found a mood stabilizer that worked for me. About a year later, I found myself talking to a customer searching for a new look. I showed her this lovely scarf and she loved my advice so much she praised me to the company. Before I knew it, I was moved up to a sales rep and making commissions. Years went by and Rajaion helped put me through a business program at the local community college. It wasn’t easy after dropping out of high school and never having been a good student. But with my brothers’ help, I managed. Afterwards, I found myself working at Goldoan Couture as Head of Sales.”
The smile on her face is tinted with a sadness Ike recognizes. It’s the same face Soren makes when saying goodbye to Mist’s kids or when a family is reunited in a movie. An honest happiness but an undeniable weight of longing.
“I had never been so financially independent. I had been eyeing every family tree, genetic testing, ancestry website I could find but…I didn't want to abuse my brother's hospitality. Then I suddenly found that I could afford to do it on my own and so I did. I filled out so much paperwork and did so many tests. Both of my brothers even joined in when I told them what I was doing."
Faces of people he's never met flash in his mind's eye. He had spent hours looking at the profile pictures of the men he is apparently related to.
"Nothing came out of it." Her shoulders sag as she sighs, the hope in her voice fading quickly. "I was sick of checking all the family tree sites every night just to see no changes. So I hired a PI. His name was Izuka and he claimed he had reunited dozens of scattered families."
Pelleas wiggles in his seat, discomfort crawling up his back as he remembers the creepy old man.
"A year later, he brought me my boy Pelleas." Her tone and eyes soften as she looks over at him. So much care is in her gaze it makes Soren's skin crawl. "His birthday was less than a month off which I assumed they had simply estimated him to be younger since you were so frail and sickly. And…he looks like Ashnard but with my curls. And his birthmark…it's nearly identical to yours. I was certain that Izuka had found my missing baby. So I paid his fees and sent him on his way and welcomed my son home."
"I was always kind of worried that Izuka had been wrong." Pelleas grimaces as he continues to wiggle. "I mean, what are the chances that an orphan in a run-down foster home would find himself in the loving arms of a wealthy mother? It felt too good to be true. Like a fairy tale."
"Yeah. I can imagine." Soren chews the words as they come out, laced in bitterness.
While Pelleas was probably eating like a king, I was making do on cup noodles for years. Jealousy churns in his chest while his glare deepens. It’s not that he wishes their places were swapped, but why did he get the short end of the stick? What had he done to upset fate so much?
“If I had known…” Almedha can barely whisper her confession, “I would have never stopped looking for you.”
The three men sit in an anxious silence, all eyes on her.
“I like to believe that I wouldn’t have turned Pelleas away.” She drags in a deep breath as her eyes shift between the boys. “But I was so desperate to have my baby back in my arms, I didn’t want to disprove Izuka’s findings.”
Pelleas’s face dips away with a forlorn look in his eyes. He had been close enough and Almedha had been searching for a miracle.
“Several years later, when Pelleas was around 18, Izuka had been arrested for illegal business practices and extortion." Almedha squeezes her eyes shut with a grimace. "By the time the trial was over, it had been found that over 75 percent of the families he had 'reunited' were incorrect. He had forged paperwork, scammed, blackmailed, and bribed to put whatever child he found 'good enough' into the hands of the families that trusted him. But no matter what came out, I wouldn't let myself believe that I'd been deceived. I was one of the lucky ones that he had simply stumbled into the correct child."
"When the trials first started, I was certain I was one of those con cases." Pelleas murmurs, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeve. "Frankly I was terrified that I'd be sent away if we did a DNA test and I didn't match up."
Hurt flashes across Almedha's face.
"I shut down any notion that Pelleas wasn't the baby I lost. Until three years later." She turns her gaze to Ike and smiles with watery eyes. "I was at work and this strapping young hunk of a man came waltzing in looking for an engagement ring."
Ike bats his eyes at her, uncertain what she's expecting with the look she's giving him.
"I asked him who was the 'lucky lady' and he told me 'lucky mister, actually'. And boy did he tell me about his boyfriend." She chuckles as she looks away. "He told me about the adventures they'd been on, about the places they planned to go, how smart and handsome and empathetic this boy was. He had hearts for eyes as he spoke about all the accomplishments he had. I asked to see a picture of him and…there was no doubt in my mind that I was looking at my son ."
Her lips shrink into a thin dark line as she looks at the family portraits hanging on the wall.
"You're the spitting image of my father when he was your age." Her eyes drift closed as she heaves a heavy sigh. "I desperately wanted to demand to meet you. But I couldn't. I could see how happy you were. You had this amazing man who's clearly obsessed with you, you had graduated college all on your own, and you were about to be engaged. I had no business inserting myself into your life. I never told my boy Pelleas, just in case I was wrong and it wasn't as if it would likely matter. But I changed my contact information on all the websites anyway. Just in case."
Pelleas and Soren find themselves in a quiet staring contest. The leaps and bounds that had to be made for their lives to cross paths. To even know the other existed.
"I started going to therapy once a week again," she continues on, doing her best to ignore the intense eye contact between her boys. "Which is still an improvement from the twice a week like when I first started. I tried to look you up on social media but couldn't find you or your fiancé anywhere."
"Husband." Soren grumbles under his breath. He thought he had been sneaky and protected from this woman knowing so much information about him. But no. That was never the case. She had known the entire time.
"Congratulations." She smiles brightly at him, her tears starting up again. "I wish I could have told you so sooner. And thank you…for listening. I know it isn't your burden to bear."
All he can muster is a short nod before he stands abruptly enough that Pelleas and Almedha flinch, the envelope held in a vice grip.
“Isn’t your burden” - who the hell does this woman think she is? Soren is fuming. She wishes she could have told him congratulations sooner? How about the fact he wishes he hadn’t been put through hell his entire life until he met Ike and his family?
He can’t stand it. He won’t stand it. Her story is over. He doesn’t have to make nice with her any more. He shouldn’t have to begin with.
"Ashnard…I'm assuming you don't have any of his family medical history. Do you?" Soren's voice cracks as he struggles through his query, his eyes burrowing into the wall behind Almedha.
"No. And I'm sorry, I don't have any way of contacting him." Soren's eyes narrow on her but she seems honest in her empathy. All of this and he still only has half of the puzzle.
"Have a good day, Ms. Goruda." Soren heads to the door, forcing his eyes to stay dry as he makes his escape. She won’t see him cry. He has been forced to be strong his entire life and she is not privy to his feelings. She will never get to know him.
"It was lovely meeting you both." He hears Ike lie as he rushes to meet Soren at the door. He has one foot out the door when Ike’s hand brushes against his back. It takes everything he’s ever learned in therapy to not turn around and snap at him. It isn’t Ike’s fault any of this is happening. But Ike catches the way his shoulders tense and shake at the touch and drops his hand. The softest ‘sorry’ is whispered to him as they close the door behind them.
---
Silence stuffs the air on the ride back to their home. Soren stubbornly wipes the tears from his cheeks and sniffles angrily.
All that suffering as a child. And for what? To avoid the consequences of her actions?
Ike fiddles with the gear shift before reaching for the radio. Soren will open up and talk when he's ready. The best thing to give him now is quiet solidarity.
Papers rustle as Soren yanks open the folder to start reading.
"Looks like these are more personal accounts than official records." Soren flips through the pages and grumbles. "According to this, her father's mother was likely a narcissist but undiagnosed. And Almedha has BPD. Her mother was in a fatal crash. There doesn't seem to be much else in here."
"We could handle that." Ike hums as he reaches out a hand to hold Soren's thigh.
"Easier than the risk of childhood stomach cancer." Soren nods gloomily. With Ike's late uncle on his father's side and the whole slew of people on his mother's side, Soren started insisting Ike do a checkup every other year to make sure there weren't any growths.
Ike nods as he runs his hand up and down Soren’s thigh to warm his chilly hand.
“I…I feel like you won’t like what I’m about to say.” Ike tilts his head to get a better look at his husband.
“Say it anyways.” Soren huffs as he snaps the thin folder shut. All that for three lines of information.
“The two of you seem a lot alike.” Ike can feel Soren’s glare before he sees it. But his hand isn’t shoved away so Soren must not be too upset. “I mean- well. She knew we were together the whole time. She knew it before she knew you . But…I like to think she wanted to make you more comfortable. If you weren’t ready to come out to her, she wasn’t going to force it-”
“But she did, Ike. What was the point in her even telling us that she had met you?” The soft slap of hand on paper rings out in the car as Soren strikes the folder. “To rub it in that she had a chance to be in my life and tossed it away? What proof did she have that I didn’t need a mother? One photo? Our wedding was full of your family and your friends. Stefan was the only person who came just for me. I could have had uncles and aunts and a grandfather there! Instead, she decided what was best for her .”
Ike wants to correct him. His family is Soren’s family. Those are their friends. And Skrimir definitely wasn’t at their wedding for Ike’s sake. Hell, Ranulf had to hold the man down from screaming ‘objection’ and confessing his love to Soren during their vows.
“And what about all the time after our wedding?” Tears build up in his eyes as his breath catches in his chest. “What about when I got so sick I was in the hospital? I started arranging what to do in case I died because I didn’t want to burden you with it and she wasn’t there .”
Anxiety bubbles in Ike’s throat. He remembers clear as day, Soren hooked up to machinery in a big white bed that made him seem so small and frail. The doctors and nurses assured Ike that Soren would get better, yet the smaller man started calling for quotes in funeral homes so that ‘Ike wouldn’t have to.' The whole experience feels like a terrible nightmare at this point but it helps to have Soren at his side while remembering it.
“She was basically bragging about choosing to abandon me!” Air comes in and out of his lungs in short rapid bursts, he feels like he can hardly breathe as his eyes well up. “She doesn’t know about any of the things I went through! Because of her and some bastard we have no way of knowing. Because she’s selfish and self-centered and because I wasn’t worth keeping safe! She could have taken me to a station herself to make sure I didn’t get frostbite but instead she planned on risking my entire well-being! And for what ? Am I that fucking worthless?”
Soren sobs in the passenger seat, his head crushing into the headrest as much as it could.
“ Gods, why did we even come here?” He grabs at the front of his shirt as he tries and fails to reign in his breathing.
“Babe, you have to take a deep breath.” Ike pulls the car over and throws it into park before he presses his open palm into Soren’s chest. “Breath for me, okay? In two three four, hold two three four, out two three four, hold…there you go. In…hold…out…hold…good. You’re doing good.”
Tears trail down his red blotchy cheeks as he takes deep breaths. He covers Ike’s hand with his own and searches for the warm metal of his ring that isn’t there.
She knew the whole time and I didn’t have my ring on because I was terrified of what she would think. Another sob is wretched from his lungs as his stomach does backflips. She could have told them from the start that she knew or lied and said ‘oh I remember you now!’. Self-hatred pushes its way into his mind as he thinks of how foolish he was. If he was that scared she’d be homophobic, he should have just asked her to email the files and meet somewhere public. Instead, he forsook their comfort and commitment to make her comfortable.
“Soren,” Ike calls his name and waits for his eyes to open and focus on him. “You are not worthless. Okay?”
Soren gives him a short nod and sniffle as he restarts his slow breathing.
“Say it back to me so I know that you know it.” Ike presses a chaste kiss to his forehead before regaining eye contact.
“I’m not worthless.” The statement comes out small and fragile but that’s better than sarcastic so Ike considers it a win.
“Good. And don’t you forget it.” Ike smiles at him before pressing their lips together soft and slow. “I love you so much. And I am so proud of you for doing this. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Ike keeps their faces close enough that their noses bump and he can feel Soren’s heavy exhales. Soren brings his face forward and catches his lips again. His hand comes up and holds Ike’s face in place as their lips move together.
“Do you want to go to Five Cats and get some fries?” Ike offers between kisses. “Maybe Dairy Prince after for some ice cream?”
Soren nods with a watery chuckle as he releases Ike to let him keep driving. Ike keeps his hand in Soren’s lap, which Soren happily slips his own hand into after fishing his ring out and putting it back in its rightful place.
---
‘1 new message request’
Soren starts to shake when he sees the notification pop up on his phone. It couldn’t be Almedha. He had preemptively blocked her after Mist had learned what she wanted from the account.
He opens the app to find Pelleas’s profile picture smiling at him.
“Hey I just wanted to say thank you for coming out the other day. Mom can be a lot sometimes but I think seeing you and how well you’re doing did her a lot of good. I know that’s probably not what you’re concerned about but I had another thing to tell you about.
I also did one of those DNA things and found something you probably are interested in.
Our father. Ashnard. He wasn’t on ‘Find My Family’.
He’s being held at the Daein State Penitentiary in Nevassa. He apparently attacked and nearly killed a guy while he was on a bender.
Just thought you should know.”
Soren stares at the long slew of messages. Numbly, his legs carry him to his husband who he shoves the phone at.
Ike takes the time to scroll through the messages, reaching his hand up to hold onto Soren’s as he reads slowly.
“Holy fuck.” He sighs heavily before looking up at Soren. “What…what do you want to do? We can see about getting a visit with him but…if you’re not comfortable with it-”
“I’ll give the prison a call on Monday.” Soren nods, his face a mask of apathy, before he plucks his phone back and walks away.
Ike hums to himself before he pulls his own phone out and searches for Pelleas.
---
Ike scrolls on his phone as he sips his coffee, his butt going numb in the cold metal of the chair. If the coffee wasn’t so good, Ike would have picked a comfier cafe.
The bell over the door chimes and draws Ike’s attention to the tall skinny man that walks in, a nervous energy clinging to him like a personal static. When their eyes meet, Pelleas tilts his chin up sharply before scurrying over to him.
“Hey.” Pelleas smiles shortly as he pulls up a chair.
“Hey.” Ike nods back at him before taking another sip of his coffee.
“So…you wanted to meet?” Pelleas motions to him with an open palm, his face twitching with anxiety.
“Yeah.” Ike swirls the coffee in his styrofoam cup before he focuses his eyes on Pelleas’s face. “How accurate do you think Almedha’s story is? Like, do you think she was being honest? Or embellishing?”
Pelleas sits back with a deep inhale.
“I’ve always known my mother to be an honest, if a bit dramatic, woman.” Pelleas leans back with a huff as he crosses his arms over his chest. “And beyond that , Uncle Raj has certified her story to the best of his abilities.”
“I’m not trying to offend you.” Ike grimaces.
“I’m sure.” Pelleas scoffs as he rolls his eyes.
“I’m just trying to protect my husband.” His face pinches into a frown. “I’m sure you would do the same for your partners.”
Pelleas pauses at that. Well he at least acknowledges my relationship for what it is.
“He’s been hurt enough by the choices others have made.” Ike turns his gaze back to his coffee and takes a sip.
“I…I’m sure he has suffered.” Pelleas nods with the quiet admission. After all, he knows firsthand just what it feels like to not know where or who your parents are. And if Soren’s foster home had been half as bad as Pelleas’s orphanage, he didn’t envy his upbringing. “What can I do to help?”
"Tell me more about Almedha." Ike leans forward to force a closer conversation. "I want to know what to take at face value and what to dig further into."
"Anything else?" Pelleas sighs, dreading the long conversation they were sure to have.
“If you’re planning to meet Ashnard, Soren and I are trying to get medical history.” Ike juts his chin at him. “If you’re able to help with that at all, it’d be appreciated.”
Pelleas nods easily, more than ready to help his half-brother.
---
“Walk through.” The officer waves for Soren to step through the metal detector before handing him his shoes back. “You’re good to go.”
Ike finds a stool to sit himself at where he can watch Soren who takes a seat at an empty window with a phone hanging on the wall.
A guard walks a mountain of a man in. His face is full of long gaping scars, his beard a thick and heavy violet blue, with his hair slicked back in an oily looking mess. His hands are shackled together as he’s led to the booth with Soren.
Panic prickles at Ike’s skin when the man smirks down at Soren before taking a seat on the other side of the thick glass. Soren is the first to reach for the phone, his shoulders stiffening as he holds it to his ear.
“Hello. My name is Soren Gawain. I-” His voice comes out surprisingly unshaken.
“Gawain?” The man growls through the phone, his voice an aching gravel. “I know that name. Greil?”
“Ah…yes…” Soren sucks in a breath. Anxiety sets his nerves on fire and it takes all his will power to not shake. What could Greil possibly have to do with an aggressive drug dealer?
“Guards told me ‘your son wants to meet you’,” he mockingly repeats in a falsetto, rolling his eyes and sneering. “So why the fuck would you have that bastard’s last name?”
“He’s my father-in-law.” Soren blinks away his confusion before he regains control of their meeting. Whatever reason Greil has for knowing this man, there’s surely a reasonable explanation. “My partner and I-”
“Shut up boy.” Ashnard slams the side of his fist against the glass. The way it rattles and shakes snares Soren’s racing heart. When Ashnard points a thick finger at him, pressing against the glass so hard the tip of his finger goes white, he’s shouting. “Next time you see that piece of shit, you tell him I’ve got his number! And if I ever see him again, I’ll fucking kill him!”
“Ashnard! This is your only warning.” A guard shouts loud enough it rings through the phone. “Keep it up and you’re going in the hole.”
Ashnard grumbles as he brings his finger back to himself and crosses his arms with a glare.
“My partner and I are trying to-” His words shake as he does his level best to calm his heart rate.
“I don’t give a fuck what you and your bitch are trying to do.” Ashnard rolls his eyes with a scoff. His eyes narrow to angry slits as he looks down at Soren. “How’d a pathetic little shrimp like you even get a girl anyway? You paying her? Or maybe you take after your old man and give her the good stuff. So long as she’s a good f-”
“Enough.” Soren cuts him off with a glare as the cold plastic of the phone cuts into his fingers. “I am not here to discuss my intimate life with you. I want information.”
“Oh yeah? Is that so?” Ashnard leans forward, his face so close to the glass it fogs up with his breath. “You want some information ? You look just like your bitch of a mother. You met her yet? I bet you two would be two fucking peas in a fucking pod.”
“I want your family medical history.” Soren sits like an iron rod runs down his back. He keeps his face a neutral blank canvas as much as possible. “I understand you need funds for goods here. I’d be happy to put ten dollars into your account for each official diagnosis you can give me.”
“What the hell do you want that for? You sick?” Ashnard scoffs as he leans back. “Wouldn’t be surprising given how much you screamed as a baby. You know, there were several times I contemplated holding a pillow over your face over the couple months we suffered you.”
Soren’s gut jumps at the threat. Primal fear clings to his skin as he tries to retain his calm.
“I want your family medical history. That is all.” Soren states sharply, refusing to break eye contact with the giant. “If you are unwilling or unable to assist me, I will be on my way.”
“Make it twenty.” Ashnard smirks through the glass, showing off his rotted teeth.
“Fifteen.” Soren snaps back.
“Fine.” Ashnard growls as he closes in on the glass again. “My mother drank herself to death. My father is still fucking around somewhere or another as far as I know but last time I saw him, diabetes had stolen his big toe. Had an uncle shoot up with someone else’s needle and died a few weeks later. Ah - and three of my brothers. Got so high they thought they could fly. They jumped and realized they couldn’t.”
Soren stares in silence, his eyes just as cold and unfeeling as when Ashnard started.
“You, boy,” Ashnard sneers as he pokes the glass in Soren’s face, “come from a fucked up bunch. You had one foot in the grave the day you were born.”
“Alcoholism. Diabetes. Addiction. Then another three accounts of addiction?” Soren lists, his voice the same tone as an automatic answering machine.
“No no. Three accounts of depression.” Ashnard huffs as if Soren is the foolish one. “They only smoked to take the pain away.”
“Don’t we all?” Soren rolls his eyes as he stands. “I’ll place $90 in your account. Have the day you deserve.”
“You too.” Ashnard chuckles darkly. “Give the bitch a good fuck for me, why don’t ya?”
Soren sneers down at the man as he clicks the phone back into its place.
---
“Well?” Ike asks hopefully, waiting until they were back in their car to rub his hand across Soren’s back.
“That man is abominable.” Soren grumbles as he buckles his seatbelt. “Absolutely atrocious. He was so vulgar !”
“Then why’d you have the guards put money in his account?” Ike leans back into his own seat to buckle up and start the car.
“Because he at least gave me what I wanted.” Soren heaves a heavy sigh before quickly jotting down the information.
They ride in silence, the radio barely audible as they drive down the highway back home.
“Pelleas is only a month younger than me.” Soren states quietly while he rests his forehead on the window. “And we’re confirmed half-brothers. How many other half-siblings could I possibly have?”
“I…I hadn’t thought of that. It’s kind of concerning. Isn’t it?” Ike hums disapprovingly to himself. “Well, at least we can move forward now. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Soren sighs heavily, reaching his hand over for Ike to hold. “We can finally move forward.”
---
Forks and knives clink against the fine china that dots the dinner table. Soren can’t keep from sneaking looks at his father-in-law over the bowl of gravy. How the hell did Ashnard know Greil?
Mist chatters away to Elena, only taking her eyes away from her mother to glance at her small children. Ike tucks into his steak while nodding along and commenting on whatever Boyd has been lecturing him on for the past twenty minutes. Greil makes funny faces at his grandbabies, tickling them and making small noises to make them giggle.
“Is something bothering you, dear?” Elena reaches her hand out to touch Soren’s wrist.
“No, I’m fine.” Soren forces a smile at her but he’s met with a disbelieving quirk of her brow. “I…ok there is something . More of a curiosity. Greil…sir?”
Greil tilts his head up, an easy grin on his face as he gives his son-in-law his full attention.
“Does the name Ashnard mean anything to you?” The question banishes Greil’s cheer, sucking the air out of the room.
“Yeah,” Greil grumbles as he shifts in his seat. “Yeah it does. Why?”
“I…” Usually Soren is quick enough on his feet that he can smoothly reason his way into any information but he hates the idea of sharing his connection to that awful man.
“We were reading an article the other day.” Ike pipes in, the lie coming too smoothly for comfort. “He mentioned a ‘Greil’ in a quote.”
“Ah.” Greil nods slowly, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms over the table. “I met him back in my earlier days. We were trying to bust one of the bigger fish in a drug smuggling ring. He dealt some hard stuff but he wasn’t who we were after. Now, he was a good in.”
“What do you mean?” Boyd jerks his chin towards him as he shoves a spoonful of potatoes in his mouth.
“The man simply wouldn’t shut up.” Greil rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “We got so much information out of him, we left him out in the streets longer than we should have just to keep getting more. But then…he mentioned a woman. She had apparently just had his baby and it was driving him crazy.”
Greil’s face turns downcast as he watches his young grandchildren eating and laughing together.
“I tried to get more information,” he grimaces as he looks back towards the three men on the other side of the table, “maybe help get her and the kid out of the situation, but I never could. He just wouldn’t identify her as anything other than crude insults. And then one day he was back to his happy jolly self.”
Elena holds his arm, rubbing her thumb in small soothing circles as he talks.
“He bragged about what he’d done.” Greil sneers and shakes his head. “He dumped his own child. It was still winter. It had snowed the night before. I told my higher ups that we couldn’t just let him keep on after that. It took some convincing but within a few months we had him booked and locked away.”
“I still wonder about that baby sometimes.” Elena hums to herself as she leans her head against her husband’s shoulder. “I wish we had some way of knowing if they made it and where they are now.”
Ike turns his head and smiles softly to Soren. Tell them. They would never hold it against you.
The corners of his lips twitch as he tucks back into his dinner. He knows that he’d be safe giving them the truth, even if it’s terrifying. They had always welcomed him into their family with open arms and hearts full of love. Honestly, how could anyone compare to how fiercely they incorporated him into their lives.
“It’s a small enough world.” Soren shrugs. One day he’ll tell them but not here. Not right now.
---
After months of debating and searching and emailing and video chats, they finally found a surrogate. Arlet, a lovely young woman with beautiful blue curls and a strong nose. She even has a fair amount of muscle mass and a sharp chin.
The fact that she and Ike aren’t related is actually quite shocking.
And now that all the paperwork is taken care of and Arlet has finished IVF, it’s the Big Day.
“Alright, today’s the day!” Ike smooshes his face into Soren's, their noses pressing each other down. “Let’s go make a baby.”
Soren can’t help but chuckle at his husband’s excitement. He can already see it - the way Ike will dote on their baby, the adventures they’ll get up to as a family, how loved their child will be. And in just two weeks, they’ll have the happy news that it’s really happening.
With a swift kiss and a tight hug, the two jump into their car and make their way to their appointment.