Chapter Text
"The only death I would allow you is by my hand, and mine alone." it was something that Mephiles had said offhandedly one night as they lay in bed together after a long, stressful day. Zero laughed.
"You are so dramatic." His hands ran through its crystallized quills in the way it liked, from it a quiet purr to rumble to life somewhere in its chest. It buried its head into the pillow beside his head, sighing in an almost dejected manner.
"Perhaps, but I'm entirely serious. It would be cruel of me to allow anything less."
___
Neither of them had expected it, though it wasn't really much of a surprise considering how… "affectionate" they were.
As always, Zero was stubborn as hell, the occasional bouts of nausea were either outright ignored or pushed through. When he thought he was putting on weight he trained harder, thinking he'd just been slacking. By what he guessed was the 12th or 13th week there was no way to deny it.
It wasn't so bad at first, a bit annoying to work around, sure, but ultimately manageable. As stubborn as Zero tended to be, he found himself taking far less risky moves in battle almost unconsciously. After another month of trying his damnedest to just push through it, trying to keep fighting, he had to give in. there was no point in trying to deny that trying to keep pushing it was inevitably going to end with getting himself seriously hurt. If not worse.
"I think we have to stop. " He said, finally breaking the silence.
"You think so?" It asked, pausing in the middle of putting its headpiece back on to look at him. They'd been getting dressed and ready for the day, the thought having come from the realization that his clothes just wouldn't sit right anymore. Any protective parts of his gear now sat in ways that were more a hindrance than protection.
"Yes… I feel like I can barely move anymore, and I'm barely halfway there." He hated feeling incapable, useless, weak. It was like being a wild animal in a neglectful zoo, pacing circles in its enclosure. Mephiles turned its attention to him fully, half dressed.
"Is that what you want?" It already knew the answer, it was impossible not to. Zero had dedicated the rest of his life to revenge, it knew him well enough to know that the idea of having to put everything on hold just because some hypothetical baby had come along uninvited was not a pleasing choice to have to make.
"No." The obvious answer. "But we're going to have to stop once it's here anyway, might as well get ahead of it instead of pushing through like an idiot." He was not happy about it, very obviously. It floated up behind him, resting its chin on his shoulder, wrapping its arms securely around his waist and pregnant stomach.
"You know I could always carry out the rest of your will on your behalf, my love." Zero relaxed a bit, leaning backwards into its hold.
"There's no point in any of this if that bastard doesn't die by my hands." Mephiles chuckled lowly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
"That's what I thought you would say."
___
Another month or two, well over the halfway point now, Zero was staring to feel incredibly restless. He was so used to being active for most of the day, every day, that having to take it easy was practically a living hell of his own. He was listless, apathetic on a good day. Seeing him unable to fulfill his self appointed life's purpose was nearly as depressing as he likely felt.
He was able to work through the worst of it most of the time, the guilt usually being the easiest to handle. He'd occasionally feel guilty for not actively working on avenging his late squad-mates, though it was fairly easy to remember that; while they would have wanted to be avenged, they wouldn't want him to work himself to death for it. It had even been something they'd actively had to scold him for on numerous occasions while they we're still alive.
There were plenty of things that were more difficult to handle, and currently he'd been ensnared by the mirror. He was not the most enthused about what he saw.
He was, unarguably, a mess.
He hadn't braided his hair in weeks, it felt pointless, leaving it in a mess of tangled white curls. It was unpleasant, an annoyance. but his body bothered him more.
The months without his daily training routine, or really any significant exercise, he'd lost a visibly noticeable amount of muscle definition. That and the weight gain from the baby itself had caused his once active build to go soft on him.
He thought he looked like a fool.
It was like there was a disconnect, like he was looking at someone else's reflection staring back at him. It was like he was looking into an altered reality, a different turn his life could have taken. One where he'd become someone fundamentally different. One where he was miserable. One where he wasn't him.
His face felt hot with frustration.
He refused to be seen this way, by himself or anyone else.
Especially by anyone else.
From his messy desk he grabbed one of his black patinated daggers, he had rarely used them in fights but it was always good to have backups. He gathered a messy handful of his hair in one hand and the dagger, ready to cut, in the other.
"What are you doing?" Mephiles' voice, breaking through his reckless train of thought.
It had been gone for only about an hour or so, getting supplies. Of course, in disguise. Normally Zero would've come along, if only just to get out of the house for a bit, but he hadn't felt like being seen in public.
"I'm sick of this mess, I'm going to deal with it before it worsens." The slight tremor in his own voice did nothing to help his state of mind.
"You love your hair." It reminded.
"I despise it." He spat. He knew full well that it wasn't true, his hair had been the one thing he actually put effort into appearance wise. He could hear Mephiles sigh, and in a quiet moment it was at his side. Its hands discarding the dagger, then holding his face so gently in its palms like it was inspecting him.
"What happened?" It asked gently, wiping the pad of its thumb gently beneath his good eye. It was only then that he realized his vision had gone wet and blurry at some point.
He felt ridiculous, feeling pitied like this.
When he gave it no response it gently guided him to the edge of the bed. "Sit." It was not asking, and Zero didn't bother arguing.
He was fairly sure Mephiles had been talking to him, the bass-y tone of its voice audible despite his distracted state. It was embarrassingly calming, feeling its hands section out and comb through his nearly matted hair. Once smooth enough to run fingers through it started sectioning his white locks into smaller parts. Its clawed hands were shockingly nimble, weaving his white curls into fairly uniform braids (though, admittedly not as uniform as he usually did them) seeming as though it was taking only minutes. It just was just as likely that it actually was taking the typical two or three hours without his notice with the state he'd been in.
He wasn't really concerned with the passage of time at the moment.
By the time Mephiles had finished, now clipping the silver pieces throughout, he'd calmed down significantly. He was still rather unhappy, but the heat of rage had left him.
Cold and feeling almost embarrassed for his emotional outburst, Mephiles' mimicked kiss—the back of his hand held against its muzzle where lips would be—reminding him that he did want this, even if it was hell.
___
It was a on a misty day mid September, when the air had just started getting crisp.
It had been a largely unremarkable birth which had been a very welcome surprise. They'd opted for a home birth for the same reason their newborn was technically a bastard on account of being born out of wedlock; avoiding the law.
Being unremarkable didn't keep it from being entirely exhausting, being far more draining than any battle Zero had ever been a part of, and he was more than happy to be over with it.
It was surreal, holding her now. Technically, she'd 'existed' for a while, but it was different now. Before she was just some abstract idea, only hypothetical potential. Now she was real, a person. Someone who was going to have thoughts and feelings of her own, her own opinions, her own voice, her own life.
"She's tiny…" Mephiles finally spoke from where it'd been next to the bedside, it's voice hushed, like it was afraid to wake her.
"Yeah, she was just born." He mumbled a little sarcastically.
It was true though, she seemed impossibly small. She looked much more like Zero, definitely a canine. Though she looked more like a red doberman, with her short, warm-brown fur, caramel brown markings, and her floppy little puppy ears that were still a bit too big for her head. She was still sleeping and hadn't opened her eyes yet so neither of them had been able to see the yellow color of her eyes yet, but it was more than easy to see the small spot of pink on the corner of her otherwise black nose.
"Yes, I know, but…" it trailed off slightly.
"Yeah, I know what you mean… God, it's crazy that we're parents now…" Mephiles just hummed in apparent agreement, having nothing to add. She squirmed the slightest bit in Zero's hold when he'd said God, which it found the slightest bit funny.
Zero mostly failed to stifle a hearty yawn.
"I think you're gonna have to hold her for a bit, I feel like I need to sleep for at least ten years." He handed her over gently in its direction, trying not to strain himself too much. Mephiles hesitated slightly.
"Is that a good idea…?" It asked delicately. Zero gave it his most tired 'you're being ridiculous' stare, before placing her directly into its arms.
"It'll be fine." He yawned. Almost as soon as he nestled deeper into the sheets he was drifting to sleep, the last thing he saw before his eyes shut for the night was the sight of Mephiles staring at the baby in its arms, their newborn daughter, with a look somewhere between awe and terror, holding her as if she would suddenly shatter any moment.