Work Text:
“Pike, dear, come inside. You’ll catch a cold.” A mother called to her young son, who was occupied with the puddles under the trees.
“Aw mom, but puddles are fun. See? Splashy splash.” The boy laughed jumping again, splashing his already dirty pants with mud.
“Pike, get inside, or no dessert!” The threat made the boy stop and rush to his mom. “Wipe your feet, and then get in the bath, you’re filthy.” He grumbled but followed her instructions.
When he was clean again, the family was gathering for dinner. He tried to jump into the large chair to no avail. “Come on sweetie.” His mom picked him up sitting him on her lap.
“Mom, I’m old enough to use a chair!” He protested, squirming in the lap.
“Runts can’t sit in chairs.” The oldest, Wynonna, commented scooping a pile of potatoes onto her plate. Pike’s ears flattened.
“I’m not a runt! I’m just a late bloomer” He squeaked crossing his arms indignantly. He knew he was the runt of the litter. Barely coming up to his mother’s hips at age seven while his sister was already at their father’s shoulders. His mother scolded Wynonna while rubbing Pike’s back.
“Pike will sit in a chair when he gets big enough.” The promise soothed him as he ate from his plate happily smug as his siblings’ own ears flattened in shame.
“Don’t baby him Carmella. He won’t grow any taller than the chair back. The sooner he learns his place the better.” The scraping of forks stopped. Normally it was teasing in good fun from the siblings, not once had his father commented on his size. Pike looked to his siblings for help, but their wide eyed expressions told him they were also at a loss. No one spoke up to argue, no one would go against the leader. The rest of the meal was silent save for the sounds of silverware on plates.
“Mama? Am I going to be fed to the Dire Wolves as a sacrifice?” He asked while getting tucked into bed the night after his twelfth birthday.
“What makes you think that?” The movement pause, the entire room seemingly listening for a response.
“Agnes from down the groove told me runts are used as sacrifices so the wolves don’t hurt the village.” He muttered, pulling the blankets around him tighter.
“No sweetie, we don’t make sacrifices. You don’t need to worry about wolves.” A light kiss to his forehead ended the conversation, but the arguing of his parents kept him up. He sought out the comfort of his siblings, quietly curling into the impromptu cuddle session as if they were all still kits.
“We can’t keep all our bellies full, Carmella. Pike isn’t going to grow more, and you need to eat.” The statement cut through him, before he could knock on their door. He was going to ask if he could go to the market with Wynonna, but now he couldn’t help but listen.
“We’ll be fine, we just need to make it through the winter. I know our coins are low right now, but we’re bound to run into some luck.” The pleading in his mother’s voice was obvious, but his father wasn’t moving.
“Pike is seventeen now, he can live on his own. Please Carmella, we can’t let the family suffer because of one runt.”
“He is your son, how can you say that?”
“No son of mine is a runt.” The last statement shocked him to his core. In a fit of desperation, he locked himself into the bathroom, glaring at his small lanky form in the just barely there mirror. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to leave his home. The bag he packed was small, but it held all his belongings. He wrote a note quickly which read:
Dear Family, I know I’m costing this family much more than is worth, so I am leaving to make it on my own. I’ll visit sometimes, but for now you shouldn’t have to take care of a dumb runt like me. I only hope you will keep me in your hearts if you cannot keep me in your home. Thanks for everything, Pike
With a note of finality, he snuck out into the cold air. His scarf was wrapped tighter around his face as he breathed in the harsh air. Sadness clung to his heart, and he could barely make out the wails of his mother in the distance over the wind. He neared the edge of the sleepy village, looking back to it, saying goodbye silently.
He trained himself to be as silent as possible, giving himself the name of Ninja Assassin, but he had never killed anyone before. Sure he was a thief, but he had to do what he could. No job would accept him on account of him being a werecat. They all said his species wouldn’t be fit for any of the jobs that was asked for. He even got a scar when one of the inn keepers lashed out at him. So when he found the party in the woods discussing amongst themselves and not picking up the dropped item, he had easy access to a good coin count. Of course the wizard job sounded better, and he would be doing honest work. The crystals and coins would have set him up for life, but he knew his parents needed it more.
The team helpfully came with him back to the village. The scent of the spring festival reached his nose as they cleared the forest. The village was singing and dancing celebrating the passage of a safe winter and the births of all the new kits. It brought a smile to his face scanning the familiar scene.
“Okay, you can go see and participate in the festivities, they should be hospitable if you offer to give some sort of gift to the village. I’m going to go find the person I need to.” The team didn’t push and happily wandered to join his people. They didn’t know his story and probably never will. A sigh pushed through his lips as he headed down the familiar path to his once home. The door was the same, and he could just barely reach the door knocker. The door creaked open showing a very thin woman, her hair grayed and face sunken a bit. But her eyes still held the light he always remembered. “Mama?” He asked tentatively, shifting his weight.
“Pike? Is that you?” She asked, reaching her hand forward to his face. He nodded and both had tears in their eyes, clutching onto each other.
“Carmella, close the door, no one is there.” His father came up behind them, stopping when he saw him. “Pike? But how, we thought you died.” He grimaced at the lack of faith.
“I brought you gifts, may I come inside?” He asked, knowing that it was out of respect he asked. He was quickly ushered inside sitting around the fireplace.
“Please tell us how you are back. Why do you have a scar on your face? Where did you go?” His mother hurled questions at him. He told them everything, about how he traveled and was rejected, about how he met his team and about how he helped defeat the wizard. Footstep were heard upstairs, running down.
“We heard Pike, is he here?” His siblings asked bursting into the room. When they saw him, they began to weep too, glad they were whole again.
“What’s in the bag?” Wynonna asked, poking at his hip bag. He smiled and pulled out his gifts for them.
“When I left, we were in financial strain, so I brought back coins and crystals for you. Don’t worry I have my own stash, though smaller than this.” He explained, tossing the heavy bag on the table. His father was in shock, looking through the bag.
“Why did you leave?” Wynonna asked firmly, holding his hands tightly.
“Well you read the note right?”
“We know what was on the note, but I want to hear it from you.” He took a deep breath steading himself.
“I left because I wasn’t wanted.”
“But you were wanted.” His mother tried to tell him, but he shook his head sadly.
“I wasn’t. I heard you and father talking that day I left. I couldn’t stay if I wasn’t his son.” The truth shocked the room.
“You know how your father gets though.”
“I know mama, but it was true. I was costing this family too much money to take care of. I wasn’t ever going to be something here anyways. At least out there I can get over the fact I was born too small.” He explained, holding his mother’s hands instead.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Father. The whole village was saying it too.” He chuckled lightly. “But now it’s ok, because now I am something more than just a runt.” He quietly wiped tears from his mother’s eyes, smiling at her. Wynonna hugged him from behind murmuring in his ear
“You were always more than just a runt, you are our brother.” He smiled wider and rested his head on her shoulder.
“Why aren’t you at the festival?” The question was asked suddenly, and silence fell on the room again.
“It wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t there.” His mother whispered, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“Well I’m here now, so let’s go!”
The family was whole again as they walked into the sunlight. His father was carrying him on his shoulders proudly as they approached the center of the village. People stared at them, not sure what to make of the family laughing and talking with others again. They didn’t recognize the smaller figure on the shoulders of the father, until one of the children called him Pike. The festival continued, despite the interruption of shock at the return of the runt.
“Pike, we have to go!” His team called to him and he turned to look at his mother again.
“I’ll come back, but I have to be with my team.” He told them sadly before bouncing off to meet them.
“Wait Pike.” His father stopped him. “I wanted to give you this, a sign of my blessing and of my apologies at driving you away.” He held out a small leather bound book, pressing it into his palm.
“Father, I can’t take this. Why would you want all the history in my hands?” he asked gripping the worn edges.
“Because you changed the family history, and you should write your own in the pages. The future kits deserve to know about you.” Pike wrapped his arms around his father tightly feeling a few tears soak his shoulder.
“Thank you, for everything.” He muttered before letting go and finding his team again.
Sure it didn’t get easier for Pike, but he was happy. He had the support of both his families and he was no longer doing dishonest work to survive. He was living and happy in his life. When the future kits came, they learned of his story: proving that any runt could defeat his demons, no matter how small.