Chapter 103: Coming Clean
The sound of crackling wood and ambient chatter of conversations supplanted the quiet breeze, the moon hanging in the sky illuminated where the orange glows failed to reach. Harrow sat next to her mate at the pack’s fire, pressing herself to his side, as they enjoyed the songs that Joseph played on his guitar. Thankfully, there was a less depressing selection of music in his repertoire this moon, the music a welcome addition that calmed the pack. Sunundra politely participated at their gathering, humouring conversation and smiling at jokes traded, but most of her attention was focused on Daisy interacting with the pack, Violet introducing her as they travelled fire to fire.
Joe had given another small speech for the few servants and Atmo brought while he was away, and he seemed pleased to know that this batch of them had been treated much better. Even the new Lilhuns were quicker to accept their placements in the pack with little fuss—rumours of what befell the other packs giving them hope for the settlement and easing their concerns about the Paw being a defect.
But for all the good news that the Grand Hunter brought back with him, she couldn’t help but feel like he was carrying a burden. He still talked the same, still joked and hugged, still made sure that everyone had been okay while he was gone. Just...something was off. His eyes strayed when he talked to her, his shoulders slumped just a little bit more. He avoided speaking about what happened at Sunundra’s settlement—save for the general outcome.
He arrived, met the Grand Huntress, helped with the Atmo, and returned. It was a simple explanation of what was surely a longer story. The Human even made a point of deferring to the pale-furred female upon his initial retelling, almost asking for permission to mention something. Whatever it was, it wasn’t openly discussed, a glance at the other pack members wandering between groups being enough to discourage it. She suspected that it may have been the Grand Huntress’ status as a defect, though that hardly mattered if it was never spoken of.
Jax’s paw on the small of her back rubbed her fur gently.
“Do you not wish to speak with him?” he asked quietly, pulling her in casually to hide the murmuring in her ear. She squeezed her tail around his waist.
“What do I say, Jax?”
“The truth of the matter, perhaps?”
Her ears wilted, a quick look given to check if anyone had noticed the exchange. No one paid them any mind, Joseph starting up a slightly less upbeat song, insisting that it was attached to fond memories and not to worry.
“You know what he said,” she argued, her voice not fully into it.
Being forcefully woken by Joe had scared her, but the moment his scent reached her, all she could feel was relief that he had come back at all. Their banter—while spurred by tired spite—had felt familiar and comforting. It didn’t quite remove the lingering worry that came from his intent to separate the pack whenever Rob found them, but it let her pretend that the end of everything she held dear wasn’t looming in the distance.
Jax hummed his understanding. “But would it not be a difference in culture?”
“I just don’t want—”
“I know,” he interrupted, digging in more with his claws. “I wish not for it either.”
The silence reigned over them, disrupted by Joseph finishing the song and laying his instrument to the side. With the reason of needing to use the restroom, he stood, passing by the mated pair. He paused in his step, a hesitant glance given to the orange-furred female.
“Hey, Harrow. Can I talk to you for a second?”
She wore her best attempt at a grin. “Trying to get me alone and vulnerable?”
His face remained friendly, but reluctance weighed in his eyes. “It’s up to you. Just wanted to go over something.”
Her pulse quickened, fear of the realization of his previous musings gripping her heart. “Don’t you need to relieve yourself?”
“I can talk to you after I piss. It won’t take long, promise,” he offered with a wry chuckle.
Jax patted her, encouraging her to oblige. He popped some cooked meat in her mouth when she went to protest, smiling warmly. “I will wait for you here.”
Defeated, she nodded, following after Joseph as he went into the den, guiding her to his room. A brief pause for the bathroom break later, and the two of them were alone in the room she only really visited when the moons left her anxious.
“I wanted to talk about what I said in the office, before Leader came in,” he started, crossing his arms. His entire posture was defensive. Guilty. She had watched him enough to know what it looked like. He leaned against the table—torso upright, instead of relaxing his weight to be comfortable. His head was inclined, eyes not quite committing to looking at her. One cheek pulled at his mouth, the other placid.
One paw abandoned the protective self-embrace, reaching up to rub at his neck. Embarrassment. Shame.
She purposely fought the urge to hug herself, instead resting her paws in her lap and taking a seat across from him on the bed. A part of her hung on to hope. “About what happens when Rob comes?”
“If,” he half-corrected, dropping the free arm. Resignation. “It’s going on a year and he hasn’t said anything about any clues. Anyway, it’s about when I said that you and Jax would get your own place.”
The paw inside her chest squeezed, her breath threatening to choke her.
“I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to even suggest it.”
Harrow blinked, her ears flicking and mind reeling to ensure that she had heard him correctly. Her voice—previously prepared to lock up—sought to comfort the visage of a destroyed male she had come to care for. Who looked so distraught for sins he committed unwittingly.
“Joe, he’ll—”
“It was mostly just me having a moment of escapism, but I didn’t think about how important it was to you guys to have a den,” he interjected, shaking his head. The kindness in his gaze thanked her for the attempt at consolation, but requested that they finish what he came to do.
“Sunny was the one who beat it into my head; you guys don’t treat...this like somewhere to stay,” he continued, waving a paw broadly towards the rest of the den. “For me, the closest this comes to is an apartment building; a structure split up into individual residences for the purpose of space. Each ‘apartment’ is its own home—or den, for you guys. Individual kitchens, bathrooms, bedrooms, and other spaces, designated to whoever lives in that space.”
“But we share everything but bedrooms, usually,” she countered, prompting for clarification, rather than arguing. He nodded.
“That’s like sharing an apartment or house with others. A lot of people do it to save money, but not many would turn down the chance to have their own place.” He displayed an upturned paw, as if to present his position, then let it fall, abandoning it. “You guys... You guys don’t see it that way. I was so caught up in the possibility of getting back to something I knew—something far away from being a Grand Hunter—that I just...forgot that. In my head, I just saw ‘getting out of here’ as me, Tel, and Pan finding a nice home where we could raise Violet; I didn’t even really consider the Atmo. ‘They’d be given a nice place too!’ is all that went through my head. Forgetting that they rely on Queens, ignoring that they like to live in huge clusters, and not putting an ounce of thought into what they would want anyway.”
He clenched his paws, jaw set. “I only thought of myself. About how much I wanted to see Robert again. How much I wanted us to be safe, and how that looked in my head.”
Her anxiety left her, seeping through her pores and replaced by dread for what she had been too trapped within to notice happening before her eyes.
“It’s been too much, hasn’t it?” she asked, suddenly very aware of how much their imposition of power onto him had weighed him down.
Individually, they knew that he wouldn’t adhere to what they expected, but he had taken to it well enough that—at some point or another—his strange methods and kind personality seemed normal. It passed over their notice and they returned to seeing him as someone of high station, albeit informal. They still required his input on every major decision, placing the burden of their lives on his shoulders, and he had taken it upon himself to extend those obligations to protecting his kit’s people.
Joseph had a wishful thought where those burdens were gone, and instead of picturing a reality where those causing such stress were absent, he desired what he felt was the best for them. It was absent of considerations for their wants, but that was only because he had grown so weary trying to act on his own without conflicting. He was restrained by chains he couldn’t free himself of, lest those he cared for fell; he made the most of it, but he was a prisoner all the same.
Suddenly, she wasn’t the kit left behind by those she needed; she was in the position of the youngest kits that relied on their older sibling—sharing the same fate, but the only one they could cling to when their world collapsed beneath them. A pillar of hope, unqualified and forced to suffer silently to remain strong for those she supported. The fading existences not crying for their den-parents, but the eldest that had not abandoned them when all else had—even that final hope absent as smoke filled the room and scorching air charred their weakened lungs.
“I’m sorry,” Joseph whispered, crouching in front of her and wiping the tears from her eyes. She focused, surprised to see him so close in the instant she had lost herself in memory, the acrid scent of inferno surfacing before being quelled by his presence. Safety. Security. Family.
Things she had feared losing once again represented by a male suffering his own troubles quietly, just as she did so long ago. She smiled weakly.
“What did Sunny tell you?” she asked, her voice cracking. More guilt flashed through his expression.
“That there’s no difference between our definitions of a ‘home,’ just who we expect to be there.”
“And that is?”
His eyes met her own, tender and careful. “I don’t even know anymore, Harrow. If you had asked me before, I would have said that I wanted to live with my spouse and any children we had until they were ready to be on their own.”
“Now?” she asked, laying paw to his cheek in the same way he did whenever she needed comfort. He huffed a defeated laugh.
“I couldn’t imagine life without you. Any of you. How am I supposed to pretend that everything would be okay without Sahari and Nalah playfully fighting over games, then melting into the picture of happiness when they’re together after a long day? How could I get used to Violet not spending time with everyone she’s come to love? Scarlet cares for her, so many Atmo have found a home with the Lilhuns, and more people keep coming here hoping for what we have.”
He closed his eyes as her tender touch caressed his temple. “What would I do without you and Jax tormenting me...” He took a deep breath, his own voice catching. “I was alone, Harrow. So, so alone. Emma took everything with her when she left. Friends, acquaintances—everyone who I could talk to. I spent a lot of nights staring at a bottle or thinking it would be better to just end it.”
Her eyes widened. Pan alluded to knowing about his past, and Tel occasionally erred away from conversation pertaining to it, but she wasn’t expecting this. Every word ripped and tore as he relived an experience she could draw parallels to—an experience that still scarred her, no matter how much she ran from it.
“I had nothing but my own head to vent to, and every time became harder and more vicious. Each...fucking thought became about how much easier it would be if I just put a stop to my worthless attempts to keep going—admitted she was right. Of course I deserved isolation; who would want to be with someone so broken? How much longer could I justify taking a step forward, instead of laying in my bed and waiting for time to take me? How many days could I keep moving through life without even remembering what I did, moving on autopilot? How long could I take having the last conversation I had being a reminder of what I couldn’t do? How could I accept being just a burden?”
He forced a laugh, a modicum of warmth diluting the frigid tone.
“But I had to keep going, Harrow. When Rob called me and offered me an out—a way to leave it behind for a while and sort my thoughts—I took it. He suggested trying to find friends or someone new, but we both know how that went.” He drew his lips thin into a grimace. “The Union were already fucking with my chances of finding anything to help, no matter how much I drove my self-hatred out through practice fighting. I was reminded time and time again that I wouldn’t be accepted. Couldn’t be.”
Joseph opened his eyes, fixing them on the floor. “And then I found Violet and Mama. Then you guys. I went through hell and came across people suffering—people looking for the same thing I was. I couldn’t leave them behind, Harrow. I couldn’t leave you abandoned like I was.”
“And then there were more,” she whispered, finishing what he lacked the strength to. “Oh, Joe. What did we do to you?”
He chuckled, blinking away the evidence of his turmoil. He wet his lips and smiled for her, contentment peering through the pain. “You guys became my family.”
Scratching by the door drew their attention, their prolonged conversation having seemingly drawn concern from Mama. [Is everything okay?]
Joseph wiped his eyes, nodding as he made to get up. “Yeah, just rambling. I’ll be right out.”
Her stern grip on his face surprised him as she tugged him down again, scowling. She lowered her voice, making no attempts to ward off the irritation. “You do not get to say all that, then pretend everything is fine. You are not okay.” Her voice softened. “What happened at Sunundra’s?”
[Am I interrupting?]
She let him read the tablet, his eyes darting back to her before he closed them to sigh.
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“No, I said I’d tell you ‘later.’ Guess now is as good a time as any,” he decided, giving permission for the large blue Atmo to join the conversation. She took a seat next to the bed, her tall frame still making her head and shoulders over the orange-furred female sat upon the bed. Joseph got up to grab a chair and placed it in front of the both of them, sitting with his elbows to his knees and claws intertwined. His face darkened as he took a breath.
“I killed people,” he stated blankly, letting it percolate. Mama laid down her tablet, assuming an attentive posture. Harrow worked the words over in her mouth silently. They were English, they made sense, but the Human saying them so definitively had her struggling to accept them as a statement of fact. Sure, he made it clear that he wouldn’t hold back if his pack was threatened, but he came back with Sunny and Daisy, and was friendly with them, too. He went to great lengths not to take a life, even when he was well within his right to—she and Jax had him to thank for that.
So why was hearing it said so coldly discordant?
“Sunny is the defect that escaped the Union,” he continued, ignoring the wide eyes from Harrow. She thought it was odd for him to claim her ailment, but at the time she was still trying to wake up, so never stopped to question it. If she scented like she was angry...
He breathed out loudly, replacing it a moment later. “Well, remember how she took some of the information on the blacklist? That included a casualty report...and my dad’s name.”
The pain that had been tucked away exposed itself to the air, Joseph biting his cheek without raising his gaze from the ground. He spoke before she could process it.
“Well, I learned that, then she showed me the nest and I met Daisy. Helped them, offered her advice on how to care for them and get them to work with her pack. I figured I’d come back with good news about someone who wants to help them, you know? But... Well, the good news ends there.”
“Did someone try to hurt them?” Harrow pressed. He shrugged limply.
“The settlement came under attack. Hundreds came—some with guns, most with bows or swords. I went into the nest to let them know to hide as much as they could. At least until things settled down. Hope for the best, I guess.” He released his paws, curling one into a fist and capturing it with the other. “Sunny is an STO. Like Leader and Tech—high rank, too. Goes by ‘Demo,’ or did, anyway. She lived up to it; even underground you could feel the landmines going off from across the settlement boundaries... A tunnel caved in from one. I doubt she knew it was there—the catacombs were all over the place—but I had Daisy with me, and a gun like the one Sunny has on her hip.”
Joseph leaned back, finally meeting the two’s rapt attention. He curled his paws, as if he was still feeling the grip of the plasma-caster. “I ran. Got cut by an arrow, but I was too hopped up on adrenaline to notice; all I felt was the burn of a plasma round barely missing my leg. It didn’t matter. I had to run. To get them away from the Atmo... It lasted a long time, but I screwed up. I didn’t consider that they could cut me off. The first...the first pinned me to the ground. I tried to punch, but he caught me by the bracer just before it connected. Then...”
He took a breath, crossing his arms, his claws digging into his bicep. “Then recoil. They set it off while staring it down. The limp body fell next to me, but I didn’t have time to think about it; I had to keep going. The next thing I remember is using one I took down as a shield—I think the arrow caught them in the heart, but I didn’t stay to find out. After that, I killed on purpose. They got me down, had a sword, and it was do-or-die. I let it go from the ground, running like hell the moment I could. Ended up back where I started after that—I had been knocked pretty badly a few times and never noticed. Made it hard to keep track of directions. I hid where I told Daisy to dig out from, and held my breath. The first came into the room... I tried...”
His voice finally broke, the male powering through the momentary lapse. “I tried to spare him. Another came in—this one with a gun—so I hid again. It didn’t work. The gun poked past the pillar, and I...I grabbed it, tossed it away, jammed my own into him, and pulled the trigger. Daisy came to check up on me, but the one I tried to spare picked up the gun... I didn’t even hesitate for this one.” He let loose a sardonic laugh. “Fuck, the gun was empty. I just pulled my crossbow and aimed for the head, not a single thought given to what I was about to do.”
“Joe...” Harrow voiced, watching her friend’s expression turn wrathful.
“They weren’t a person anymore, Harrow. Not to me. They were a threat. Danger to be removed.” He placed his palms on his knees, his eyes flicking up to burn into her own. “Do you know what I felt after putting a bolt into someone’s head, Harrow? What I felt having six deaths tied to my name, four of those done perfectly knowing that I was ending lives?”
She opened her mouth, failing to find an answer.
“Happy,” he admitted, tears leaving a streak on his cheeks. “I was so relieved and happy that I protected the Atmo—protected Daisy. So tired from injuries I couldn’t even notice, blood-loss I couldn’t feel... I smiled like an idiot.”
“It was for them,” Harrow agreed, forcing all her meaning into the statement. Her paw raised, fruitlessly reaching for him as he tore himself apart, before she let it fall to her lap. “You need to kill for that.”
“I didn’t have to!” he shouted, his knuckles white. He tempered his volume. “Maybe the first two were unavoidable, but I didn’t choose for them to die. The others though? Those I did. I could have shot legs, or broke limbs—let them be captured and interrogated. Hell, maybe they were like so many that weren’t given a choice but to follow through with orders they didn’t agree with.”
“They tried to kill you!”
“How can I blame them!? They had the fucking ground explode, and they end up facing me in my damn Wraith armour with nowhere else to go. I was the personification of fucking death, Harrow! I’d shoot first too!” He punched his leg, the heavy impact filling the stunned silence. “Their friend died. Then another as I used them as a shield. By the end of it, I killed someone dazed, scared, and having witnessed everyone they were with—in a place they didn’t know—be killed by some Lilhun grim reaper, only to face down a living weapon that came out of the fucking walls.”
His voice grew hoarse, his anger running its course. “Where do I draw the line? When does someone being scared and alone not cut it anymore? When can I kill without feeling like a monster?”
A steady scratching preceded Mama calmly displaying her thoughts. [There is no line where you are absolved for taking a life.]
“I could have done it differently,” he protested quietly, his eyes demanding punishment, yet his voice begging for forgiveness.
[No one said you have to feel only joy or sorrow for what you did, Joseph. The only one expecting that is you. To be proud of protecting what you care for, yet remorseful of the loss it incurred, is what it is to be kind.]
“That’s what it takes to be kind?”
[That is why I picked you.]
He faltered, gaze searching for an answer. “How is me being a wreck ideal?”
[Joseph, the Atmo were targeted for being too passive. We did not develop weapons, because there was no one to use them against. The Kuoori sought our technology to improve our lives, and we did our best to expand the rest so that they might live in a nest surrounded by beautiful things. When the Union came to welcome us, we brought them in with gratitude. We were excited to have more people to share with—to learn from. When we met humans, we had found our ‘other Atmo’ in the universe.]
She wiped the tablet flat. [Your people taught us combat. Not as a means of violence, but as a means of protecting and expressing ourselves. A new art form to master and celebrate. When they tried to take our homes, we used this art—this gift—to protect what we cherished. When all was lost, and we were ready to accept our fates, your people gave us the greatest gift any Atmo has ever received.]
The tablet was cleaned, a single word replacing the blank surface with all the reverence that the sculptor could muster. [Hope.]
Harrow stared at the four letters displayed with all the confidence that the painful context would allow, only barely aware of Joseph’s expression mirroring her own. Mama waited a moment before lowering it, preparing her next message more carefully.
[With nothing left but each other, Violet asked me to save you. Not because you were human, not because the death of another is unforgivable, but because she wanted to help someone who she could, just like humans had in the story she was told. Since the moment you healed enough to walk, you did the same. You worked tirelessly when I became injured, you planned to make our meagre cave a home, and you brought us here when the cave became too dangerous. Since then, Violet has gained everything we thought she would never have, and ‘other Atmo’ we wish to never lose. You taught her endless kindness, the tools to aid those in need, and how to deal with those who went against what she believed in. She can only be so happy here because you have taught her that—even if she does all she can—there will be some who still do not share her views, and that it’s okay for that to happen.]
[Please, Joseph. Don’t blame yourself for doing what had to be done to protect her. Don’t punish yourself for saving another. I don’t think you are a monster for saving Daisy, nor am I pleased that others had to pass for it to happen. What I am, is saddened, because Violet’s father has saved so many lives—given so many hope—yet feels like he is still not good enough, despite every smile here owed to him. No matter what pain you face, it is not yours alone to bear.]
Harrow rose from the bed, kneeling in front of the Grand Hunter, his eyes overwhelmed with emotion. They slowly met her own. “Sometimes, the extreme is the only place left to go. When your back is against a wall, and your claws broken and worn, you need to forget what you are to protect what will be. Not one of your pack expects you to do anything by yourself.”
She gently placed a claw to his lips when he tried to argue, smiling softly when he complied to her request. “We live in dens because it was safer long ago. When predators threatened our packs, it was best to have many of us there to defend the kits and injured. It’s safety. Safety that we yearn for from the moment we’re born, and seek to give as soon as we form our own packs. Being alone is...” She swallowed, fighting back the sting of memories. “It’s just like you experienced, honestly. What happens if something befell me and Jax? Where does that safety and comfort reside when there is no other to provide for the den? Where there may be solace to be found in our modern packs of smaller numbers, to lose a mate like you did... Even unbound Lilhuns would fall to isolation, Joseph. We need others. Everyone out there celebrating? They feel safe under you, because you make sure they are, no matter what. Me, Jax, Sahari, Nalah, Pan, and Tel? You’re always going to be where we belong...”
“So me killing people is just proof that I’m safe?” he snapped dryly, the wear on his voice taking the edge off. “Wanting to be free of the responsibility sometimes makes me stable? Yeah, I’m really cut out for this.”
The accusatory glare softened to an apologetic one as she frowned, hurt by his tone. He stumbled over an attempt to speak, shutting his mouth and giving himself time to try again.
“Sorry.”
“Joseph,” she murmured, holding his paws with her own. “When you suggested separating the den, I broke down. I’ll tell you one sun, I promise, but I’m not ready to relive it like you did. It’s too much—too raw—even after all these years.”
“You don’t have to, you know that,” he assured her, lightening now that the focus was off his perceived failings.
“I will, because it’s caused you a lot of trouble. Even Jax doesn’t know about all of it, just bits and pieces.”
“Then why me?”
“Because...” She stalled, biting back the hesitation. “This is a decision me and Jax made a while ago.”
His brow furrowed in concern. “What is?”
“Violet is a den-kit, right?”
“Okay?”
“That means that she is part of the den, and will get help when she needs it; food, assistance with tasks, and social acceptance within the den is provided. She is not ours, but we will help.”
He nodded. Harrow took a breath, delving into a portion of her trauma. “What happens to your people’s kits when there is no more den to provide for them?”
Joseph recoiled, shocked by the sudden shift in tone. “When a kid’s parents die or something? Then other families related to the household can take them in—assuming they’re able. Outside of that, it’s really just orphanages and foster homes. So, a semi-permanent residence where they’re cared for until they reach adulthood or get adopted, and temporary homes where they might have the same. God-parents too, if the family picked them. Why?”
She smiled, not an iota of joy to be found. “We don’t have that.”
“What? None of those? Nothing?”
“Nope. Why would we?” she asked rhetorically, a limp shrug following the falling gaze. “Our kits are cared for by dens; the instances where that happens is so low that any facilities constructed would be derelict before they saw use.”
“What happens when it does come up?”
“They die, usually,” she finished, her voice hollow. “None to care for them, none to provide. No stability. No safety... No hope.”
“But couldn’t they—”
“Nothing, Joe!” she barked, regretting her decision to delve into it. “They starve and cry, just like how we were before you sent Pan after us. The lucky ones pass in their sleep.”
“Harrow...”
“Don’t,” she pressed, composing herself. “Not now.”
He accepted, sympathy coating his words. “Then why bring it up?”
She took the plunge. “Because I broke down wondering how long it would be before our kits went through that, if something happened to us. It’s bad enough being cast aside, but I couldn’t sleep thinking about their small voices calling for a den that wasn’t there, their parents absent and gone.”
“Wait, ‘our kits?’ Harrow, are you...”
She nodded, unable to convince herself to meet his undoubtedly shocked expression. “It’s hard to say when it happened, exactly, but yeah. I noticed around the time we got the report from Silva.”
“Hold on. So all of that was...what, anxiety about it?”
“I didn’t know what would happen when Rob found us,” she admitted, patting down the fur on her lap. “With everything going on—the wildlife, the other packs, the uncertainty of it all—I couldn’t stop remem... I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
He remained silent until Harrow reluctantly looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was worried that it would change things. You had done so much for us, and kits would just add another concern on top of it.”
He grimaced. “And I made that worse with my stupid comment.”
She firmly gripped his paws, making sure to impart how much she meant her next few words. “We decided that we wanted you to act as a blood-father for them.”
The moments passed painfully slowly, realization belayed by his visible reiteration of the conversation thus far. He blinked. “You...want me to be your children’s dad? What about the whole ‘den-kit’ thing?”
“We wanted to give you something that represented our feelings,” she explained, her cheeks warming. “Jax suggested it first, but I agreed. This way, if anything happened to us, they’d still have someone who would care for them unconditionally. When it happens in a den, sure, they will still be provided for, but it’s not the same.”
“So, like a god-parent, but from the start?” He noticed her unspoken question. “Friends that are picked by the parents to take custody of the kid in the event they die or something.”
“Kinda,” she hedged, uncertainty surfacing. “We thought you would like to... Never mind.”
“No,” he stated firmly, planting a hand on her shoulder to stop her retreat. “I’m returning the favour. You’re asking me to keep the den together and take a primary caretaker role of your kids with you and Jax, right?”
She returned a hesitant nod.
“And Jax was the one who suggested it. You feel the same way.”
Another nod. He stared at her with an unreadable expression, taking a deep breath as he leaned back.
“Okay.”
Her eyes snapped up. “But...”
“Harrow, I killed people. I’m constantly in over my head, and I have issues a mile long, but the two of you are so worried about not returning favours that you want to let me have the privilege of being a pseudo-father to your children, because I can never have my own.” He wore a weak grin. “If it was just that, I would have said no. You looked ready to throw up there, just because I took too long to say yes. You really want me to be that big a part of their lives, don’t you?”
“I do,” she admitted. “Seeing you take care of Violet like she was your own, watching you care for every Atmo kit... We know they’ll be loved, even if something happens to us.”
With a gentle guidance into his arms, and a tight embrace, the bubbling worry stilled.
“I’m a terrible influence,” he murmured.
“Worse than us?”
“I’m an idiot.”
She smiled. “But you’re our idiot, and we love you.”
A set of blades joined the hug, Mama making her opinion known. For the first time in many suns, there was no need to assure herself that she wouldn’t lose her den. No anxious fidgeting or smell of smoke. No mental gymnastics to keep concerns at bay. Just a warmth within her that she had forgotten could exist. Her kits would have a den they would be loved in, the relief of history not repeating itself drew tears.
Joseph rubbed her back as she worked through the moment, releasing her when she was ready.
“I think they’re going to be worried if we take any longer,” he announced, clearing his throat. “Let’s go back out. I think Sunny was interested in the pod, so I might have to make a trip with her soon.”
Harrow reached out and pinched his shirt in her claws as he tried to leave. “You’re okay, right?”
He snorted, shaking his head. “No, but I just need to keep doing what I have been and hope for the best.”
“What’s that?”
He tugged her by the arm and gave her a gentle shove into the hallway, closing the door behind him as he joined her. “Whatever I have to do, Harrow. I might never really forgive myself for it, but between you, Mama, and Tel laying into me, I just need to accept that I can’t fix every mistake, only learn from them.”
Mama clicked from the door back to the gathering outside, peering around the corner to check on them. Harrow followed after Joseph, cycling a breath to recover emotionally.
“What did you learn from this one?”
The doors opened, several of the pack cheering at the return of the Grand Hunter, others yelling suggestive comments. Joe raised a claw towards them, snorting when many of them returned the gesture. Daisy and Violet chittered, the two Queens in the process of bothering Tel in unison as the grey-furred female tried to roast cubes of meat without dropping them. Pan watched the exchange fondly, her contentment giving her a calming aura. Joseph gave a small smile at the display.
“That I don’t need to live with it alone.”
“Will you do it again?” she asked, curious to know how it had affected him beneath the surface.
“If I have to, Harrow,” he sighed, bumping her on the shoulder with a smirk and keeping his voice low. “Our kids better be fucking adorable.”
“Hey!”
He ignored her protest, joining the group and giving Jax a subtle nod full of meaning. The black-furred male returned it, observing the Atmo kits with a glaze to his eye, picturing his own kits being joyful in their pack, playing with their Atmo siblings.
Harrow couldn’t help but do the same.
It wasn’t hard to imagine, not with Joseph there with them.