Chapter Text
This is a story about a man.
Well… not really. Not really a man, that is. Not at first. More of a baby, then a child, then a teen, and then a man.
So.
Let's start again.
This is a story about a baby.
This is also a story about soulmates.
If that hasn't caught your attention by now, dear reader, I would advise you to turn back now.
Or don't.
I'm not here to force you into anything.
Oh?
You chose to stay?
Perfect!
So, let's get to it!
This is the story of a baby, a perfectly normal little boy born to perfectly normal parents, with a perfectly normal older brother of his very own.
"Mooooooom! You're hooooooome!"
A little boy runs towards his mother, who has just returned through the front door after several days in the hospital. The little boy nearly barrels into his mother but is quickly scooped up by his father before he can reach her.
"Careful, Gri. Mommy isn't able to play with us like we're used to right now," his father says. "If you're too rough with her, she could get hurt."
"Aw," the little boy whines.
"I know," his father says.
"Dad, can I still give her hugs?" the boy asks. His father shifts him a little in his arms.
"Of course, Gri, just not too tight."
He goes to hug his wife with the child still in his arms, the boy hugging his mom to the best of his ability.
"Mom?"
"Yes, honey?" his mom replies.
"Where did your belly go?" the boy asks. When he had last seen her, she looked like she'd just swallowed a ginormous watermelon. Or a biiiiig bottle of juice. Now she looks like she's only eaten a small watermelon.
"Well, Grian, you know how we told you that I was growing a baby in my belly?"
"Yeah."
"And that at some point the baby would have to come out?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well…"
Just then, his aunt, his mom's sister, comes in the door holding something that looks kind of like one of those picnic baskets from his shows, but it looks wrong.
"Oh! Perfect timing! I was just about to go out and see if you needed help," Grian's dad says.
"Oh, no, I got him," his aunt says. "The car seat setup is… interesting, but I figured it out."
"Oh, good, I'm glad to see that car seat technology hasn't changed much in the last four years," his mom replies. "Why don't we go sit down on the couch so you can see him?”
Grian wriggles out of his dad’s arms and scurries over to the living room to jump onto the couch. His mom sits down next to him with the baby in her arms.
"Grian, meet your little brother Jimmy," she says.
The baby is small, and kind of wrinkly, but kind of cute, almost like the baby doll his friend's sister plays with.
"He's so cute!" he says, nearly forgetting to be quiet. The baby- his brother- is sleeping, so he has to be quiet, he remembers.
"Yeah, he is," his mom replies. "I guess," she adds. A joke, Grian realizes. He giggles.
"Can I hold him?" he asks, nearly bouncing up and down in his spot. His dad lightly places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"You can, but only if you sit still," his dad says. "Too much bouncing might make him upset."
"Okay," Grian replies. "I'll be calm."
His mom smiles at him.
"You have to be soft with him," she says, positioning herself so she can gently lay little Jimmy in his brother's arms.
Grian reaches out, excited, and-
"Ow!" he cries out.
The baby startles awake and begins to cry as well.
"What's wrong, Gri?" his dad asks.
"The baby burned me!" Grian accuses.
"What?"
"He burned me! I just wanted to hold him and then it hurt!"
"Huh," his aunt says, crouching down in front of her nephew. "Where does it hurt?"
Grian… Grian thinks it's his left arm, but he touched the baby with his right arm. He holds out his left hand.
"Your hand hurts?"
He shakes his head and turns his palm up.
Then he sees something that wasn't there earlier. He didn't play with markers at all earlier, he doesn't have any stamps that work anymore, and he ran out of stickers a week ago, so why would there be a little green birdie on his arm?
"What's that?" he asks, now concerned.
His aunt looks at his wrist and then takes the baby's hand to inspect his wrist. Grian takes a look as well.
"Why does he have a green birdie on his arm? Did he play with markers?" he asks.
"Well, that solves it," his dad says.
"Yep! I don't think you have anything to worry about with these two," his aunt says.
"I'm actually quite relieved," his mom adds. "I thought they were gonna hate each other."
"Why? What's going on, mom?" Grian asks.
His mom turns to look at him, Jimmy still in her arms, and smiles softly.
"Well, Grian, I think it's time to teach you about soulmates."