Chapter Text
Zhalia rolls her shoulders to loosen the muscles and alleviate the growing ache. She doesn't know how long she's been in the practice room, but judging by the position of the Sun in the sky and the rumbling of her stomach, it's been a while.
"Thanks, Gareon," she says to the small titan as it scampers over with a water bottle and towel. It hisses and gestures toward her phone before scrambling up her arm. A message from Dante? Seems urgent. She presses his name, and he picks up almost immediately after the first ring.
"Zhalia, please tell me you're free today," he asks breathlessly. Maybe he was training, too.
"Depends what for," she replies, taking another swig of water. "Is it worth my time?"
"Probably not, but I need your help. It's an emergency." There's an undertone of desperation in his request, and it kicks her brain into high alert. Something has Dante frazzled, and the russet haired man is rarely frazzled. "Can you come over as soon as possible? Maybe in ten minutes?"
"I'll be there in five."
.
She makes it to the house in a record four minutes, twenty-eight seconds, and the door swings open before she even gets the chance to knock.
"Thank you," he sighs in relief once he sees her, "and I apologize for this in advance."
Zhalia blinks, unsure of what to make of the sight in front of her. One of Dante's hands is threaded through his hair, tugging at the locks nervously, and the other is holding a green eyed, strawberry blonde toddler that looks...vaguely familiar. The child leans her cheek against Dante's shoulder and whimpers as he welcomes Zhalia into the threshold.
"So, what am I here for exactly?" She eyes the small girl curiously. She wouldn't call babysitting an emergency. Whose kid is this anyway? The only strawberry blonde she knows is Sophie, and last she checked, Lok and Sophie just got together.
Dante pinches his nose and exhales sharply. "Long story short, we're on baby duty until we get word from the Foundation―Lok, hands off the stove! Cherit, get him away!"
"Roger!" The gargoyle-like titan flutters over to a blond boy reaching for a boiling pot and pushes his little fingers away. "C'mon Lok, my boy, let's get you back to your toys."
The boy pouts but lets Cherit lead him to the living room. Lok? No way. She saw him two days ago, and he was an adult. But now that Zhalia looks beyond the round baby cheeks, the boy does have recognizable blue eyes. That means this girl must be…
"Sophie?"
At the sound of her name, she perks up and cooes at Zhalia, but her fingers stay clenched in Dante's shirt. The midnight haired seeker tries to keep the look of shock off her face―really, considering her line of work, she shouldn't be easy to surprise―but she's struggling to pick her jaw up off the floor.
"What...what happened? Why did half of our team turn into toddlers?"
"I tried to warn them." Dante sets Sophie down next to Lok, and she instantly clutches a teddy bear to her chest. Lok makes grabby hands at the bear. "I had this enchanted book and was planning on sending back to headquarters; it was a relic of a reclusive tribe who claimed to have found the Elixir of Youth. I had my suspicions about it and told them not to touch it, but those two are rather awful at staying out of trouble."
Zhalia watches as Sophie makes indignant sounds at Lok and holds the toy out of his reach. Even as babbling...creatures, their dynamic hasn't changed. It's almost funny how she refers to them as "the kids" just to get a rise, and here they are as actual children.
"Do you know how long they'll be this way?" She follows him to the kitchen where he clicks off the stove and transfers the cooked pasta to a large bowl. The idea of having those two out of her hair is nice, but it also means that two of the Foundation's best seekers are down. And having to find two new seekers to take their place? Titans, she just got used to the Casterwill.
"I've notified the right people, and hopefully, they'll find some way to reverse this soon."
"If at all," she supplies, catching his thin lipped grimace.
"If at all."
While Dante pours tomato sauce over his pasta, she peers back into the other room. At some point, Lok got ahold of Cherit's tail and is tugging at it, much to Sophie's amusement. The girl claps happily, emerald eyes sparkling, as Lok gives another yank. As wary as Zhalia is―trust her, baby fever is the last thing she'd ever fall victim to―she has to admit that the two are cute. She mentally flinches. Make sure Lok and Sophie never find out that thought crossed her mind.
"Dante, you're not seriously making them eat that?"
"Why not? We were planning to have spaghetti before they turned into babies, so it's not like I have other ingredients. How bad can it be?"
.
As it turns out, bad. Very bad.
Zhalia frowns and tries to rub out her shirt's new stains. Dante thought feeding them was a good idea, but who knew Sophie had such quick reflexes? She swatted the fork away with a cry, causing it to splatter onto the blue haired seeker. Lok accepted the food quietly, but as Dante was handing napkins to Zhalia, the boy somehow managed to grab the bowl and spill it onto Dante's pants.
"New plan," he grits out. "Cherit, get a sheet and spread it on the floor. We're just going to give them a bowl, and they can figure it out for themselves."
The kids must've picked up on his frustration because Sophie fists a napkin and offers it to him while Lok nudges the bowl back to its original position. Those baby eyes are dangerous, Zhalia notes as she immediately feels the need to forgive them. She wonders absently if Sophie can do that look again in her normal body; it has the potential to make even the strongest man fall. Beside her, Dante softens and takes the napkin, making a show of wiping his pants.
"What about Zhalia?" he asks and signals for Sophie to give her one, too. The strawberry blonde side-eyes her before averting her eyes. As a baby, she didn't know how to scoff, but Zhalia feels the rejection in her bones.
She scowls. Casterwill.
.
At some point, Sophie falls asleep playing tag with Cherit. The grey titan tucks her in on the couch and points to Lok, declaring, "Nap time for you, too, my boy!"
Lok yelps and toddles off into the kitchen where he latches onto Dante's leg, babbling vehement refusals. "It's alright, Cherit. Just let him run around until he gets tired," Dante sighs with all the exhaustion of a new parent. It's barely been a day. "If you don't mind, can you keep him away from Sophie? I don't want him to wake her up."
"I'll keep him distracted," Zhalia offers, pushing off the counter. Cherit gives her a grateful smile before stretching with a Maybe it's nap time for me. "Alright, kid, let's go play with some blocks."
Lok's happy to sit by the couches with Zhalia and entertain himself with colorful cubes. He stacks a few of them into a small tower and, with an exhale of spittle and giggles, knocks them down. He tries to stack them up again, this time adding another piece, but he's devastated to find out that spherical balls don't stay in place.
"That's obviously not gonna work," Zhalia snorts as Lok kicks his feet in irritation. Oh, Titans, is he crying? She wipes away the falling tears and tsks quietly, being gentler than she normally would. "Seekers don't get upset when they fail. They just try and try again until they get it. You of all people should know this, Lok. C'mon, just find a solution."
She feels a little silly talking to someone who's two; who knows if he actually understands what she says? But it looks like he does because he rubs at the tear tracks on his face and focuses his gaze back on the toys. He scans the ones in front of him before aha! he spots the correct container across the rug. Dropping the ball in with a triumphant grin, he turns to Zhalia and claps for himself.
"Yay!"
"Yay," she echoes without enthusiasm. He plops back down beside her to keep playing, and she can't help reaching up to ruffle his hair. She wouldn't...mind if they stayed this way. The word cute falls out of her mouth again before she could stop it, but it doesn't feel strange to admit it because hey, she's human, too. She can admit when things—even these snot producing brats—are cute.
Suddenly, a terrifying thought occurs to her.
"Dante. Dante!"
"Yeah?"
"Are they potty trained?"
.
Their solution is to call LeBlanche, who comes over with a basket of diapers and wet wipes. The Frenchman doesn't even blink at seeing his charge two decades younger than she was yesterday. He just sets his basket down and gets to work. LeBlanche has been raising Sophie since she was young, and even before then, he had experience raising children around the Casterwill safehouse. He makes quick work of the diaper situation, and turns to them with a Did you want to learn? Both she and Dante give hard Absolutely nots and stand at a safe distance while he puts one on Lok.
"I'd love to stay and help you, but there's paperwork waiting for me back at the manor."
"What if they need their diapers changed?" Dante pleads. Zhalia's never heard him this desperate before. "Can't you bring your paperwork over here?"
"Unfortunately, it'd be too inconvenient to bring the documents all the way here. Perhaps I will send Santiago over."
.
Santiago just makes everything worse.
As soon as he sees Sophie, he freezes. And as soon as she pokes his knee curiously, he bursts into tears. Zhalia drags a hand down her face with an angry groan because his sobs prompt Sophie to cry and Sophie crying instantly makes Lok upset, so she kneels down and gathers them in her arms with soft pats and comforting whispers. Is this how you handle children?
"Please make yourself useful or get out of my house." Dante leans his forehead on the wall in defeat. Zhalia herself hasn't looked in a mirror since she's gotten here, but in the span of several hours, Dante's developed severe eye bags that age him several years "Do you at least know how to change diapers?"
"Yes, but I wouldn't dare."
He says that he wouldn't be able to look Lok and his Lady the same way after, and as annoyed as she is, she can't fault him: that's the same reason why she doesn't want to do it. She glances at her partner again and notices the way his shoulders dip forward―maybe Santiago can help with one thing.
"Do you mind distracting them while we get some sleep then? Something tells me we're gonna need it tonight."
"I can certainly do that!"
.
Zhalia swears she only slept for 5 minutes, but the clock beside the bed reads an hour and a half later. To her left, Dante snores quietly.
"Hey, wake up." She jostles his shoulder. She feels a little bad for waking him, but the living room is suspiciously quiet, and she has a feeling neither of them are going to be happy with what they find. "We should go check on the kids."
"They'll be fine," he mumbles, snagging an arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest. "S'okay, Santiago's watching them."
"Yeah, that's exactly why I'm worried," she says, the words foreign on her tongue. Their roles seem reversed; why is he so nonchalant about this? More importantly, why does she care so much? But she lets him tug her closer and makes a mental note to get him more beard conditioner: ever since he ran out, his kisses have been rather prickly. "Do you know when the Foundation's supposed to find a cure for this? Or do I have to research local preschools to enroll them in?"
"Y'know, I was secretly hoping this was all a bad dream."
"I'm sorry for bringing you back to reality then," she retorts sarcastically.
"I think I can forgive you for it. The current reality isn't too bad." He squeezes her tightly, and she was going to respond when something starts shuffling by the door. They exchange a look. "Santiago?"
The door handle clicks, and the light from the hallway floods into the room, illuminating Sophie, still holding a teddy bear but...slightly taller?
"Zhalia, can I get water?"