Eshek was sitting over their sleeping kits, gently stroking her paw across Nour’s cheek as she fell asleep, snoring with a volume shocking to such a small kit. She smiled down at her, thin and crooked and loving. When Laertes turned in his sleep, having a nightmare, she brushed her paw behind his ear, gently smoothing the soft, errant fur that always stuck up and soothing him until he fell back into a deeper, quieter sleep. Her neck ached from looking down at the four of them but she hardly felt it; she’d gone into the state she was in so often nowadays, just a warm, peaceful silence, filled with her kits’ milky scent and the sound of their even breathing. When she noticed Ber standing in the doorway, she looked up and gave him a small smile, her eyes filled with that gentle, dreamy calm; they knew better than to speak now and risk waking them up. For the first time, Eshek had learned to be silent. She nodded and, softly pulling her back paws out from where Cordelia had fallen asleep upon them and was clutching her knee in a tight hug, picked her way over to the father of her kits.

She didn’t speak until they’d slipped out of the room and clicked the door quietly shut behind them. Then, giving him a little grin, one that looked self-deprecatingly aware of how tender and domestic she’d gotten, she brushed against him and padded beside him unthinkingly down the stairs. “Are you happy, Ber?” she asked him in a quiet murmur, little more than a whisper; where once she would have been all screaming noise at this time of night, now it was a habit she couldn’t shake: to be quiet. Over these past few moons, to do anything else would be to undo all the stories and cuddles it took to get Nour to stop climbing the bookshelves and Laertes to stop babbling, with the world dark beyond the yellow light of their room and those unseeing eyes he got when he was fixated, about whatever niche interest he’d picked up somewhere or other, like the origins of the Mansion’s gothic architecture or caterpillars, while Eshek was trying to groom him before bed. 

But more than that, it was because a deep contentment had settled inside Eshek. For the first time in her life, she was truly and completely happy. She had a place, a home. A family. She had love.

She didn’t have to shout anymore.

She was heard. 

"The city?" Eshek replied with a teasing sneer. "What, dude, to ruin my street cred even more than you already have? Man... Fine. But if anyone asks, you're just some dork charity case who's obsessed with me and keeps followin' me around and I'm not a mother. No," she changed her mind immediately, "I take that back, I'm not jynxin' anything - I'm a mother, but I'm a hot single one. Which... I guess is true anyway. I don't know why you're making this more complicated than it needs to be, Bermondsey." Stomping ahead of him, she smacked him in the face with her tail.

But before she got too far ahead, she circled back to walk beside him again; closer than necessary, but then physical distance had never really existed between them, and with the father of her kits, it was never going to. There was still that distant fear that something would happen to their kits while they were gone, but it had lessened as of late; and if something got the better of Elizabeth, then the world would truly be ending and four dead kits would be the least of their worries. Ber's asssassin truly was the strangest babysitter, a robot soldier letting children crawl over her because her boss had ordered it. The thought made Esh smile stupidly, out of joy at how strange her life had ended up being, this mismatched found family, and a rush of love for the tom walking beside her, and she tilted her head to bump her forehead with lazy, languid roughness against his shoulder, still smiling to herself. She closed her eyes for a few steps, still resting her head against him like that, trusting him to guide her.

At last, she straightened, taking her weight back onto herself. "Told you the curse was nothing but bad parenting," she breathed softly, and her voice was little more than a whisper as she walked close beside him. "And look how you've taken to being a hot dad. These kids are gonna end up alright, Ber." She turned her head to smile at him, eyes as gentle as they ever were. And there was something else there, too: relief. Because as much as she'd denied the curse, there'd been a large part of her that had still been worried, that had still held her breath. And now, they could both breathe out. They could look forward to the rest of their lives, the rest of their kits' lives, their grandkits' lives, with peace. They were safe. Everything was going to be okay. Nothing was going to go wrong. They had the rest of forever with each other. To be... happy. Just a normal family in the most unnormal place in the world. Her smile grew; she'd never felt such complete, calm happiness.

“Oh my gosh, you think I’m hot?” Eshek gasped, scandalised, as if he wasn’t just quoting her own words back to her. She shoved him roughly with one paw; and, considering her natural roughness and his general delicate twinkness, it was pretty brutal. “You soooo want me,” she purred, looking like a nightmare when she tipped her head all the way back to leer at him upside down, her forehead resting on her shoulders. And none of them trying to kill me…yet. She snapped her head back up with an audible crack. “Yeah, well,” she agreed with a sharp grin, glancing at him, “it’s still the honeymoon stage. Plenty of time left for one of us to try and kill you. ‘Cept I wouldn’t just try.” She hissed a little laugh through her teeth, eyes glittering. Even if she’d spent all this time trying to guide Ber away from the cliff face of his curse, she was still going to make fun of him about it. Joking about trauma and all that; it’s s’posed to be good for you.

“Me?” she echoed flippantly, moving into a trot just to occupy herself; otherwise, with all this excited energy at being out of the Mansion, she’d be chasing after every squirrel. “I’m great. When am I not great? Nah, really, I’m — cringe alert — really happy. Happiest I’ve ever been, probably. It’s… all I’ve ever wanted,” she said honestly, still trying to remain upbeat and careless, embarrassed by her own feelings even with Ber. “Isn’t that sad? Two proxyships, all the adventure a girl could want, and the thing that makes me happy is a bunch of brats and some incel.” She grinned at him lasciviously. “Well. Not so celibate anymore.” She’d made sure of that, even since their kits were born; the one night stand had become a casual, unspoken thing. She didn’t know why that made her so happy either. Ber proving her right and being a wonderful father, their kits growing up loved with both parents in the picture, a life in which she never felt the need to wander too far from home — it was everything she’d stopped letting herself dream of when she was still just a trainee. Just the thought of it, the knowledge that this was her life now, made warmth glow in her stomach, solid and comforting and stable.

She turned her head to smile at him, and it was softer. “You’re a really great dad, Ber.” And, because she had to balance every vulnerability with a dismissive joke, “totally better than both our own dads, so that makes you, like, third worst in the world. Jackpot, man.” She grinned, fast and easy.

I only tolerate you so you can watch the kids and I don’t have to pay child support. Eshek gasped dreamily, collapsing against Bermondsey’s side and grabbing at the side of his chest. “Oh, I love common garden misogyny,” she moaned. “Objectify me harder, daddy.” Rather than shoving him away when she was done mocking him like she usually did, she instead scrabbled up to drape himself sideways across his back, like a dead deer draped across the saddle of a horse; she kicked him in the face as she did so, scratching and battering more than she probably needed to to make herself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be across the ribs and spine of a bony pretty boy. And, given that she was the same height as him and a fraction heavier, her paws dragged across the ground either side of him and he was probably hardly able to support her weight. She collapsed her head against his side, her chin bumping against his ribs with every step. “Mush,” she ordered lazily, slapping him on the thigh. “Mush, powerful Warden.”

While being just as annoying as her kit was, Eshek grinned at Ber’s mention of her stupid game with Nour. “Oh, yeah,” she laughed, low and sharp; and when Ber let out a rare laugh, she laughed again just because it made her inexplicably happy to hear it, warmth glowing in her stomach. “She’s a menace. I was thinkin’ of stealin’ one of those— y’know, one of those little controlled planes from the park and giving it to her. A flying Nour is just what this dump needs. You’ll be like ‘oh thank god, she can’t get me in here’ when you lock your room door and then she shows up at the window.” She grinned across at him, cheek resting on her forepaws folded against his side, and then suddenly kicked him again. “MUSH!”

At his teasing about hallucinating, she melted off him like solid turned liquid and dragged him down with her, hooking her forepaws around his neck and holding him upside down against her in a headlock, his back against her chest. “Oh my gosh you’re right,” she gasped into his ear, holding him still with brutal, affectionate force. “Why else am I putting up with you? Okay, bye.” Squealing, she wriggled out from under him and pelted away, bounding in that weird, awkward way of hers towards the city, her hind paws flicking too high into the air behind her with every bound. “No more kids!” she screamed into the fresh, night-time air joyfully. In the light-polluted distance, a siren wailed. “Hot girl summer! Winter! Whatever!”

“Oh no, I’m totally liable,” Eshek replied. “I want full credit, you kidding? That would be so hot. I totally do need, like, a revamp after all this, y’know? A thing. A — whaddaya call it — a gimmick. Capisce? Like, being just a generally murderous babe, it’s hard to get fans, y’know? Like, what are they gonna talk about? I need a CALLING CARD. Maybe my thing should be, like, killing single dads. Like, I seduce them and then kill ‘em, and I can get a cool name, like… I was gonna say the DILF destroyer but that totally gives the wrong message and I’d get a bunch of weirdos being like ‘oh no, I’ve got mommy issues, treat me badly.’ Which is totally lame — you’ve got mommy issues and you…” She trailed off, slow despair seeping across her face as she slowed to a stop and turned to look at him. Her voice was quieter as she continued. Desolate. Like she’d only just realised. “Oh my god, you want me to be your mom.”

She did a sharp little movement with her paw — an alright — and marched ahead. “Okay, we can fix this. We can do, like, exposure therapy — I can waterboard you or something, I dunno how this works, and then you’ll be cured. Or you’ll be into it.” She looked over at Ber again with despair creasing her expression. “Ber, are you into waterboarding?” Without giving him the chance to respond, she continued on her forward march towards the city. Burgeoning panic was clear in her voice, over-compensated for by determined cheerfulness. “That’s fine — it’s fine! Maybe we can do exposure therapy for the exposure therapy. Georgian— Gordon’s— Gordon’s knot? Who the hell is Gordon? I’ll have to charge extra but who’s gonna complain about that? Me? No way. Gimme that green.” It was beginning to become clear that this was a bit she was running with; her corners of her mouth were starting to twitch with the grin she could barely hold back, and every few seconds it would spread across her face before she forced it back down. She half-stifled a snorting, crackling laugh that forced its way out through her teeth. “Bermommsey.” Eshek’s face split into a grin and she cackled a huge, explosive laugh, throwing her head back. As she trotted happily ahead, her voice became stupidly happy again, just butchering Ber’s name for no apparent reason. She was a child, and it was funny. “Bermington. Bermywormy. Benedict. Benedictine monk. Bermondso. Bungus. Bungo. Mr Bungulson. Monsieur Bonsoon.” She swept into a low bow, head down, paw held to her chest in greatest deference. “My lord Bonsoir, zee boy king.”

"Chelsea," Eshek hissed through her teeth, suddenly stopping and curling her paw into a claws-unsheathed fist, like she was crushing a bug. "Did. I. Mention," she went on, turning around to face Bermondsey. "Your sister," she shoved him in the chest, following after, "gave our daughter," she shoved him again, followed again, "a knife?" She pressed closer to him, wide eyes locked and unblinking. "Control your family, Bermondsey," she breathed, "or I'll take that pretty little knife and cut off those dangly bits you like so much. Yeah, prince?" Eyes locked for a moment longer, she finally dragged herself away, gaze drifting from his.

As she turned, an open window on the side of a twoleg high-rise caught her attention. A slow grin split her face, neck craned back to look up at it. "Wanna go play twoleg?" she asked Ber. "Oh, they totally have sushi," she breathed to herself, voice barely audible as she trotted away.

As she drew closer to the high-rise, head still tilted back at an angle that would have been impossible for anyone but Eshek and her demonic spinal cord, she took a second to evaluate the situation before immediately throwing herself at a fire escape ladder dangling high above. Her foreclaws just caught the bottom of it and she dragged it slowly down, dangling in mid-air, the metal shrieking. "Piece'a cake," she snickered to herself. From there, she bounded easily up and up and up to the open window, not sparing a second to be cautious as she instantly dove inside. "OH SWEET," she shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice drifting into the night from the open window. "THEY HAVE ONE'A THEM GLOWING SCREENS THEY HAD WHEN I WAS A KITTYPET." Sitting down happily on the couch with a smile on her face, she pressed a button on the remote lying in front of her - and her whiskers were immediately flattened by the thunderous sound of the Netflix start-up music. "WHOOOAAAAAA," she shouted over the noise, physically leaning back like the airwaves were trying to crush her.

Turning to Ber, she grinned brightly at him. "Whaddaya wanna watch?" she asked. "We got-" She turned back to the screen, looking at the pictures of the shows and movies. "Uh, guy standing in snow. Other guy and girl standing in snow, but this time they're happy. Maybe they're dating? Giant bugs. Ugly dog. Rabbits." She looked at him again, smiling. "Whaddaya want?"

“Oh, ’our little Nour’s already totally a killer,” Eshek called over her shoulder. “I’ll bet you like, ten fish sticks. Love that girl but she scares me — and I’m ME.”

At his question about her brief spell as a kittypet, she rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, Ber, you’re honestly so self-centric. It’s all ohhhh, Severine, Alistair — can you even name my parents? No? You’re such a dumbass. I spent my whole life in the League, but when I came back I went to DayClan, as you know, and while I was there we were all, like, kidnapped by twolegs and I spent a couple weeks as a kittypet. Honestly, did you not even question where I was? I just didn’t exist for three weeks ‘cuz you didn’t see me? You’re so,” she purposefully smacked him in the face with her back paw as she shimmied through the open window, “frustrating. This is why you’re unmarried at, like, forty.” She went on muttering about how he never listened as she fumbled with the remote, but her voice held no venom.

As soon as she pressed a few more buttons and the Giant Bugs movie started, she immediately squealed excitedly and flew off the couch, stampeding over to the kitchen and leaping with a messy scrabble onto the single counter against the wall; she was in too much of a rush to get back before the opening credits ended to put any thought to where she put her paws. Opening and closing every cabinet in sight, still squealing in her throat with her tongue trapped between her front teeth and a manic frown on her face, she finally grabbed bags of snacks at random and raced back to Ber, leaping onto him just as the first Giant Bug began to speak. “MADE IT,” she told him triumphantly, not looking at him as she immediately began to tear open all the snack packets, leaning back against Ber like a child who’d forgotten he was there, commenting on each of them as she peered inside. “Raisins, yuck. Chives get stuck in my teeth — ooh!! Rum balls. Totally not safe for cats but,” she popped one into her mouth and grinned at him, cheek bulging, “whatever that saying is in French.”

As the horrible talking bugs appeared on screen, Eshek tittered like an excited pre-schooler and snuggled back against Ber’s chest, her head resting under his chin and her hind paws kicking eager and forgotten in the air. She laughed every time one of the bugs did anything at all, happily chewing away at her mismatched, horrible clashing snacks as she pawed them out of their packets. Glancing back at Ber, she twisted around and held up a red skittle, the dye already bleeding out over her hot paw pad. “Red thing? They break your teeth!” Shaking excitedly and letting out another high squeal of laughter, she turned back to the movie, kicking her hind legs with glee. A bug died and she threw her head back and cackled wildly against Ber’s chest, eyes squeezed shut. The only lights in the small apartment, filled with potted plants and prints on the wall, came from the screen and a comforting glow from the overhead kitchen lights beside them. Everything else was dark and close.