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*Random Crash Bandicoot au idea: Dr Cortex and N. Brio made Crash and Coco (just like in the game) but the catch? They're just babies, not fit for world domination yet. Cortex decided that N. Gin shall care for the two rodents. As you can imagine, the physicist with a rocket is not prepared for this. (Note: I haven't really written for these characters before, even if I am familiar with them. Not everything in this fic will be canon compliant)
"N. Gin!"
Cortex's commanding voice echoed through the halls of his castle. He impatiently tapped his foot as he stared at the two baby bandicoots on his lab table. He couldn't conquer the Earth when his "mutant soldiers" were just babbling infants. Brio had stared at the baby rodents with a mix of intrigue and slight disappointment. This wasn't how their experiments were supposed to go.
Minutes went by, Cortex's already limited patience was running thin. Cortex yelled again, "N. GIN!" Almost immediately after his second yell, however, the large door to his lab opened. A familiar rocket-headed scientist peering through it. N. Gin wobbled into the room. He was breathing fast, clearly he had run all the way to his superior's lab. "Y-Yes Dr. Cortex?" N. Gin's robotic voice asked cautiously. He knew Cortex didn't like waiting, and that his delayed arrival most likely aggravated him. "About time you showed up, N. Gin," Cortex rolled his eyes, exaggerating his annoyance, but eventually dropped it. He decided to move on to more important matters.
"I have a new assignment for you." Cortex smirked, his tone sounding somewhat devious, though it was rare for him not to. He leaned his back on his lab work table and crossed his arms, blocking the cyborg's view of the bandicoots. Brio remained quiet, looking at Cortex quizzically.
N. Gin tilted his head slightly, his rocket bobbing with his movements. "What is it you need me to do?" N. Gin asked, his hands fidgeting a bit. Cortex beckoned his minion closer with the simple hand movement. N. Gin did not question it, and approached his boss. Cortex gestured towards his experiments, letting N. Gin view them up close. "Rodents?" He asked, not sure what Cortex wanted from him. "Bandicoots, to be specific. These are the experiments Brio and I have been working on. As you can see, they aren't ready for combat." Cortex ended his sentence with a dissatisfied tone. The scientists watched the baby anthropomorphic animals fumble around on the table.
"Do they have names?" N. Gin asked, watching the babies crawling around on the table. He had to admit, they were cute. With their orange fur and big eyes. He always had a soft spot for rodents. Cortex grabbed one of the bandicoots by the fur on the back of their neck, the child letting out a startled or distressed squeak. He handed the mammal to N. Gin, who cradled them in his arms. "That one is named Crash. And this one," Cortex paused and grabbed the second child and handed them to N. Gin. The cyborg cradled one in each arm, a little jarred by the action. "This one is his sister Coco."
'Crash and Coco,' N. Gin thought. 'Catchy'
"I need you to take care of them. They may be useless now, but they may have potential for the future." Cortex stated, his tone making it clear that was an order.
N. Gin had to do a double take. His body stiffened upon realizing what he was being told to do. A wave of uncertainty hit N. Gin's core.
"T-Take care of them? You mean-"
"I want you to raise them as your own." Cortex interrupted him. His command was so blunt it left little room for N. Gin to argue.
N. Brio also looked shocked, he had no idea Cortex intended to leave these infants under the care of N. Gin of all people. Was he trying to get his could-be future minions killed? "M-m-master Cortex, you really want to leave these children with h-him? N-no offense to either of you, but N. Gin doesn't exactly seem like t-the, ah, 'parental' type."
N. Gin immediately felt a spike in anxiety. His mind rushed with a thousand concerns at once. Sure, he had cared for rodents in the past, but they were just that. Rodents. Animals. These bandicoots were meant to be humanoid to some degree, he was basically just being asked to raise kids. Was he really a good choice for this? He still had his other responsibilities. Even in that moment, he was covered with bits of soot, gunpowder, and who knows what else from his projects. He smelled like smoke, copper and gasoline. Not exactly things associated with child safety. Plus, time was a big problem. He was constantly busy, either doing maintenance on things like the generators and security system, building weapons, or making improvements to his life support system. How would he have the time to do all of that and look after these two children?
"Are you questioning my judgment, Brio?" The sound of Cortex's confident voice brought the physicist out of his anxious stupor. When had he started shaking? Cortex turned to N. Gin with a sly expression. "I'm sure he can handle this. Right, N. Gin?"
N. Gin hesitated for a moment. But, N. Gin would do just about anything to appease master Cortex. "Yes." Was all he said. This seemed to please Cortex, who gave him a smile. "Excellent. I knew I could count on you. Now, off you go! Brio and I have more work to do. As do you." N. Gin gave him a shaky nod, and promptly left the room. As soon as the large door slammed behind him, things were quiet. The only sounds he could hear were the whirs and clicks of his cybernetics, and the small cooing of Crash and Coco in his arms.
Could he handle this?
…
A few days later, N. Gin came to the conclusion that no. He could not handle this. He sat at his desk, exhausted. He hadn't slept or showered in two days.
He made a small gated area in his room for the kids to play in. He put some pillows and a blanket to cushion the floor beneath the children. He didn't have any actual baby toys yet for them, so he had to improvise. He took some old clothes he didn't wear anymore, cut apart the fabric, and with some pillow stuffing and needlework he was able to make a stable teddy bear. Sure, it was a bit flat and uneven, but it was a safe toy, at least. He was thankful that Brio had brought him some baby formula he made for them a few days ago. Telling him to let him know if he needed more.
But even with all that in mind, he was still so overwhelmed. He couldn't leave them alone, babies had no sense of self preservation. There was a chance they would suffocate simply because they don't understand the concept of breathing!
And the crying.
Oh, the crying.
It kept him up at night, more than usual. He wasn't surprised that they cried a lot. That's just something infants do, after all. They don't know how to communicate. But knowing that barely made it easier. Their wailing either gave him headaches, or amplified his usual ones.
Coco, out of nowhere, started bawling her little eyes out. Crash, surprisingly stayed quiet. N. Gin turned his chair around. Speak of the devil. He trudged towards the bandicoots, practically dragging his feet. He lifted Coco out of the play pen, and held her in his arms. She continued to wail. He went down the list of usual reasons she would be crying. Hungry? No, she just ate and won't eat now. Changing? No, not that either. Did she want the toy? Nope. Not now. Tired? Maybe that was it. He sat back in his chair, holding Coco in his arms. He wasn't wearing his gloves, he noticed that the kids didn't seem to like them. Maybe the materials were uncomfortable to them? They weren't really soft, to be fair. But neither were his hands, honestly. His hands were calloused, covered in scars and burns. He couldn't imagine his hands being much better than the gloves, but the bandicoots beg to differ, apparently. It wasn't important, anyway.
He focused on calming Coco. Cradling her in his arms and holding her against his chest. He once heard that infants found heartbeats comforting, or something. With His cybernetics constantly making small mechanical sounds, he wasn't sure if it would work, but it was worth a shot. To his surprise, and his relief, it seemed to do the trick. Coco's cries began to die down, fading into whimpers. N. Gin let out a sigh of relief. Quiet at last. He could feel himself drifting off a bit.
The quiet was short lived, as now Crash began to fuss. Not quite crying yet, but getting there. He got up from the chair, shifting to hold Coco with one arm, and holding Crash in the other. But he guessed since now the children were close to each other, Coco could hear Crash's whining, which led to her fussing making a comeback.
N. Gin felt himself welling up. He couldn't take it. He was so tired. He was constantly busy but felt like he got nothing done. His head hurt, he could feel himself overheating. All his exhaustion and emotions were becoming too much for him to handle. His missile released a puff of steam, a system he had given his life support to prevent too much overheating. But the noise scared the bandicoots in his arms, causing them to cry louder.
That's when he broke. He let the tears fall. He couldn't hold them back anymore. He sat on his bed, he and the babies cried. He couldn't do this. Why did Cortex make him do this!? Why did he think he could do this? How did so many parents do this!? He felt so... pathetic. He could survive a warhead in his skull, countless explosive and fire-related accidents, but these kids just… broke him. He couldn't understand them. He couldn't ask them what was wrong. He was constantly guessing.
He eventually laid back on his mattress, the children resting against his sides and his arms around each of them. "Please…" he begged quietly. "Just sleep." Crash and Coco continued to fuss, but after a bit of time, they quieted down a bit. No longer bawling, just whimpering and whining. Which went on for a while. Suddenly, N. Gin felt something repeatedly and lightly pressing into the side of his belly. He turned his head to see it was Crash. The small boy was… trying to climb on him? Crash's small hands kept reaching onto N. Gin's belly, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, unable to get a good trip. N. Gin moved his hand under Crash, assisting him. He gently pushed Crash up onto his abdomen, the boy almost immediately sprawled out his limbs, starting to fall asleep. This gave N. Gin an idea. He looked at his other side, where Coco was curled up whimpering. Like he did with Crash, he tucked his hand under Coco and pushed her onto his chest. She, too, began to calm down. Both rodent children relaxed as N. Gin's chest rose and fell each time he breathed.
He rested his hands on the children. One on Crash, the other on Coco. He used his thumbs to ever so gently rub their backs. They were quiet, save for occasionally shifting and their little snores. They were warm, and soft. And so, so delicate. N. Gin felt himself dozing off. The tension that wound up his body before was slowly easing up and fading. N. Gin closed his eyes.
Maybe he could do this.