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Gorgug Thistlespring is eight years old, five foot seven, and bawling his eyes out at the foot of his bed. Wilma and Digby, his mother and father, have been sitting by his side for hours now.
‘Its alright bud…’ His mother said, plastering a smile on her face in the hope her son would find some comfort in it. 'You don’t ever have to be afraid to cry. Never bud.’
'Its healthy to cry!’ Digby added, rubbing circles into Gorgug’s back.
By now Gorgug was beginning to exhaust himself. His chest hurt from the force of his sobs, and he was about ninety percent sure his nose would never become unstuffed. Now, just sniffing pitifully and wiping at his puffy eyes, Gorgug shook his head.
'Mom…’ He croaked. 'Dad…Can I ask you something?’
They both brightened at the prospect of distracting their son from his woes. Wilma brushed a tear from his cheek.
'Of course bud! You can ask us anything!’
Gorgug shifted and brought his legs up against his chest. His pants still had a hole in them from when he had tripped earlier. Picking at the fabric with his fingers, Gorgug sunk in on himself where he sat.
'Well… Some of the kids at school say I can’t be your son. I mean, I’m green. And tall. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat raw meat, and I love it.’
Digby and Wilima looked struck. Their brows narrowed in an unusual Gnomish anger that didn’t suit their rosy complexion. Wilma made a mental note to go down to Gorgug’s school later. The faculty would be getting the finger wagging of their life.
'Gorgug…’ Wilma ran a hand through his hair. It amazed him that she didn’t seem to care about the sweat clinging to his scalp. 'First off, you are our son. You just came to us a bit differently. You see, your dad and I always wanted kids, but the whole nine months pregnancy never appealed to us. Gorgug…’
She cupped his face with her tiny hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. 'You’re our miracle bud. Our son, forever and always. Okay, Gorgug?’
Gorgug, who was always a bit confused, suddenly felt sure of the words coming from this tiny gnome. His mother and father didn’t look like him. So what? They had raised Gorgug, and that was all that mattered. Gorgug smiled, and his parents cheered at that.
'Okay.’ He said. 'Okay.’
—
At twelve years old Gorgug Thistlespring is a sight to behold. He had reached six foot in the past few months, and it was clear his growth spurt wasn’t any close to ending. Sitting in his parents lab, he had one hand rested against chin, the other outstretched to the glass containers by his side.
Peach, the fire elemental, roared with a pleasant glow. They couldn’t exactly communicate with a common tongue, nor could they physically touch, (Gorgug had tried to free Peach when he was six, it was an ordeal) the comradery between them was nice.
'Its so nice to be able to talk with you Peach.’ Gorgug said, batting his eyelashes. Peach screamed in their tank. When he had asked his parents whether or not Peach was in pain, or even held against their will, they had assured him Peach was quite comfortable with the arrangements. By powering whatever the Thistlespring's needed, Peach was guaranteed to never worry about burning out. Apparently that was a big concern for Fire Elementals.
'I think you're my best friend. No one at school really likes me. I get angry a lot, and I'm so big I break things without meaning to.' Drumming a beat absentmindedly against the glass, Peach rumbled once more. Gorgug still wasn't sure if Peach completely understood him, but it was nice to talk to someone who listened. And someone who wasn't going to break into song. There were only so many puberty songs Gorgug could handle.
A childlike excitement flashed in Gorgug's eyes and he got to his feet. 'Lets play outside Peach! I can roll you around the tree!'
As their home began to roll, and pudgy hands were pressed against the glass, Peach The Elemental once more congradualted them-self for taking this job.
--
It's awkward meeting two strangers that Gorgug wouldn't exist without. The silence is stretched, and he managed to find some amusement that being tongue tied runs in the family. Roz is tall, for a human. Her hair is black and cut short. Gorgug thinks it looks nice. Suits her.
Gorbag is....well... He looks a lot like Gorgug. A bit bigger, and taller, but that's what being a full blooded orc is about. Even his tufts, completely symmetrical and curved at the edges match Gorgug's. It's like looking at an older, buffer version of himself.
'So..' Says Gorgug.
'Well..' Gorbag said in at the same time. They both stutter, and Roz hides a laugh behind a tanned hand.
Eventually Gorbag gets a word in. He rubs at the back of his neck, but for all his worth met Gorgug's eyes. 'It's really great to meet you son. Again, that is. Roz and I are just stoked.'
Roz, his mom number two, nods. 'It really is Gorgug. I'm so happy to see you once more.'
The blooming warmth in his chest is strange. For ages he had been searching for these people and now that they were finally here, it felt like some part of him was changing. Gorgug was happy, of course. Four parents were even better than two, and he could actually stand up straight in this house. It was like a miracle.
So why did something feel off? Gorgug's need to ask for his parents was supposed to go away now. He found them. Mission accomplished. Level up. His story was at its end.
Roz is in the middle of telling him about his cousin (and oh boy that's a revelation for later) when he leans forward and cuts her off. Thankfully she didn't seem upset about it.
'You two...' He puts a hand to his chin, like Riz does when in deep thought, or when he's staring at Fabian and thinks no one sees. 'Are my parents?'
'Yes Gorgug. We are.'
'Absolutely! I almost knew from the moment i asked you in the gym.'
Gorgug smiles, but everything coming next is quiet and far away. 'So why'd you give me up?'
His parents look aghast and guilty all at once. For a moment Gorgug fears he crossed a line with his questions once more, but Roz motions for him to stay seated. She gathered herself much quicker than Gorbag had, who still looked like he was quite ready to cry.
'Gorgug, you have every right to ask us that question. But please understand this. If we had thought we could of given you a life worthy enough, we would of kept you.' She looks unreadable for a moment, then unbearably sad. 'But we were young. Kids shouldn't raise kids, and you deserved the best parents in the world. And that's Digby and Wilma.'
He finds himself nodding along. Despite all the songs, and the tiny tree, Digby and Wilma had always been there for him. They had grieved when he died, even though Gorgug had come back moments later. And even when they couldn't understand him, his mom and dad never made him feel dumb for asking questions. Even dumb questions.
By now Gorbag had composed himself enough to speak. He took Roz's hand, squeezed it tight, and nodded his head. 'We didn't raise you Gorgug. I couldn't ask for a better couple than Digby and Wilma. I've never regretted letting them raise you.' His voice, which was still so deep, wavered. 'I do regret not keeping ties with you. You're such an amazing kid Gorgug, anyone would be lucky to be your mom and dad.'
'I feel the same way kid. We wanna be in your life, if that's okay with you.'
Gorgug, who often felt confused and out of place, doesn't hesitate. He nodded furiously enough that the headphones round his neck nearly flew off. 'I do! I've been looking for you guys forever. My friend Fig has two dads, so why can't I have two dads and two moms?'
With that Gorbag does burst into tears. Roz, seemingly used to this just pats his back. Even she looked misty eyed. 'That means a lot kiddo.'
The unnamed emptiness in Gorgug that had been growing ever since he began asking question filled so suddenly that he was afraid he was going to burst. Looking at his Roz and Gorbag, and knowing his other mom and dad were happily waiting for him at the tree, Gorgug felt for once like his story had truly ended.