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“MotherFUCKER-”
Shit. That one would need stitches, almost guaranteed.
Which- fine. Lexi was good and generous with the numbing gel and understood full well just how quickly she had to work in order to stop her getting jumpy about the whole experience. Hell, Lexi would probably welcome having someone to fuss over that she could actually fix after everything else that’d happened recently. And… Sara knew she had had plenty worse injuries - done way worse to herself without thinking twice in the heat of battle.
The problem with this was that it’d open up the path for questions she didn’t want - give Vee room to look quietly disappointed, allow Lexi to patiently remind her that some wounds might be too much to heal without specialist help (as if that were even a possibility) and, worst of all, let Scott think he was vindicated in questioning her sanity once again.
And the one person who’d assure her that all of this was alright- that it’d all pass? Well, nobody would answer for sure whether he’d ever be able to tell her that again.
Worse though, Sara thought as she tried to staunch the bleeding, was that her exclamation had sent the child shooting backwards under the bed in fright. Why was it so hard- she wasn’t asking much, even.
“Des- I’m sorry.” She tried to keep her tone gentle, tried to remain small and unthreatening and see if that wouldn’t tempt him out once more. “It’s alright, I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”
Yellow eyes blinked at her from beneath the metal cot, seemingly not understanding that she meant it. Or maybe just uncaring. After all, hadn’t trying to grab him proven quite the opposite of her claims?
This wasn’t how it was meant to go.
How long had she and Vee spent discussing and dreaming of this? How many nights on mission had they stayed up until dawn- ostensibly keeping watching but instead curled around one another and just… talking about how they both intended to do better than the examples they’d grown up with?
In those nights they’d painted a picture of domestic bliss - two little ones; one turian and one human, similar in age because there was something about growing up almost as twins which she personally thought would make the blended nature of their family easier to explain. Happy children who knew they were loved and who loved them back. Children who’d grow up to be outstanding members of society that they could in turn be proud of - regardless of what they decided to do with their lives.
And this is what she’d ended up with instead. A child who refused to even acknowledge what she’d brought him for dinner and who lashed out when she tried to get his attention on food instead of whatever it was on the bed he’d been trying to grab.
A large part of her wondered if even thinking that was betraying Des; it wasn’t as if he’d asked to be this, was it? Wasn’t this what Alec had done - complained at length that the children he’d had hadn’t been just what he wanted them to be and were instead people with their own motivations and needs outside of his desires? This was worse, even, than his whining that they couldn’t keep up with him intellectually and that they weren’t interested in what he wanted them to do because Des didn’t ask for any of this. As much as he wasn’t what she’d dreamed about ending up with as a child, that wasn’t his fault in the slightest.
Mom- Mom would have know what to do with him. It wouldn’t have mattered that he was seemingly mute and terrified of everyone- but especially aliens, wouldn’t have mattered that he bit and scratched and screamed at the slightest provocation. Mom would have charmed him out of his shell and would have had him dozing peacefully on her hip in no time flat. Alec would have had opinions on her deciding to adopt a baby who wasn’t human in the first place, let alone one who had baggage like Des did - shit he’d have had so many issues with Vee too- But Mom would have just been thrilled to have a grandchild to dote on because she’d always been patient and kind with them- even when she’d been suffering, she’d always-
Fuck.
But Sara wasn’t her.
She slumped back, trying to focus on anything aside from the shaking little shadow who’d found himself the smallest space to curl up in, right at the back of the available space.
Mom would doubtless tell her it was alright to be disappointed and maybe even frustrated that instead of a vid-series perfect life she’d ended up having a halfway feral toddler who was shit-scared of her dumped on her under the guise of a definitely-not-quite-legal adoption. She’d tell her to be sensible - to put her own pride and ambition aside in favour of asking for help.
That only made her feel all the worse.
Vee, who was sweet and gentle and loving with Des, sure, but who’d also been quite happy to suggest that maybe they considered finding someone more suitable for handling his needs - in front of Lexi, at that. Of course he’d let her pick him up and cuddle him and just… do all of the things he wouldn’t let Sara do without her present. Meanwhile she couldn’t even feed him without it turning into a traumatic experience.
It wasn’t that she was a bad person for wanting to call it quits, either. Maybe she was better at this whole parenting gig given than she’d had responsibility foisted on her once before- and maybe that was why she seemed to be resignedly angry at Avitus for dumping Des on them. Maybe it reminded her of being left alone and responsible for Sid. But that she was willing to let him go when she’d succeeded in earning his trust hurt.
And that was why she wouldn’t call her to come help.
“I’m trying to do something good for you, Des.” Sara mumbled wearily, for all that talking to him really didn’t seem to help. “You could let me have this one, you know. I’ve got enough shit on my plate without you balking about me trying to get you to eat.”
A scuffle was all the answer she got, which- well, it was more than she usually got out of him. Still not enough but… maybe she’d been wrong to think talking didn’t help? At the very least, with nobody else to hear, where was the harm in just… venting her frustration?
“All I want to do is prove to Vee that I don’t need her on hand all the time to handle you- she needs a break sometimes and it’s not fair to make her solely responsible for you.” She continued, hugging her own knees. “I know why you’ve latched onto her- I get it. Even if she says you’re still panicky with her so I shouldn’t expect a miracle but- we’re all you’ve got. Vee says we should find someone who can handle you but I don’t know who she thinks that’ll be.”
Problem was, the one person she could imagine handing Des off to permanently was also the one person who Sara was absolutely certain could make this work out for them. The one person she’d really quite like to turn to for reassurance right now.
“I can’t give you Avitus.” She knew she was rambling. “I know he’s who you’re looking for- who we both want here right now. And I don’t even know how to get you to understand that he’s… fuck- he’s in bad shape, Des. He died, baby, and maybe we got him back but we don’t- until he wakes up- if he wakes up, we won’t know how much of him’s survived.”
Typical, wasn’t it? She stifled a sniffle, wiping her eyes with her good hand.
All this time and just as she’d started to feel like maybe, just maybe she’d finally gotten the hang of being an adult and was ready to be someone’s parent, that the universe would drop kick her right back to feeling like she needed a parent again.
There was another scuffle from under the bed. Probably just Des shifting into a more comfortable- it was followed by a rattle through his teeth. She… it was a familiar enough sound - though not from him.
Long ago, Vee had warned her that not all turians were great at remembering to use their words instead of subvocals and interjections which didn’t quite translate in stressful situations - that situation had been way back when she’d first been trying to befriend Avitus, hadn’t it? But that one she’d heard often enough.
Calm down. What’s wrong? You’re scaring me. I’m confused why you’re acting like this. I don’t like what you’re saying.
She rather thought she’d go with the first or second interpretation of it. That at least made sense - or made her feel better. It’d mean he was engaging with the conversation at least. She knew he did understand some things they said- or at least, understood when he wanted to pay attention, because she’d seen him listen to Avitus and… how would he have handled this?
Easy, he’d have left Des with a ration bar and let him get on with himself in his own time; he’d either feed himself or go hungry and either way it’d have been his decision.
Looking at what she’d put together instead - a bowl of noodles which smelled vaguely beefy - Sara was struck by how little she’d actually thought about this. What sort of parent picked out food their child didn’t know how to eat in the first place? Why hadn’t she thought.
“There are dextro ration bars - formula twelve and twenty-eight specifically, in the holdall on the desk.” SAM murmured in the back of her head, helpful as ever. “Along with cevikk pot-roast flavoured chew bones appropriately sized for a turian infant. Pathfinder Rix made note to ship systems upon arrival for the Miven-3 mission that those are specifically supplies for the child.”
And she hadn’t even thought to ask if the AI had any record of what Des had been willingly eating.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Why didn’t she think about falling back on what he was used to eating?
Sara knew that turian ration bars were a long way from enjoyable as meals from Vee’s many quiet complaints about the food situation in the early days but… Avitus sure ate them like they were the only thing he’d trusted to be safe and of course that’s what he’d have given Des too. Maybe they weren’t tasty but they were nutritionally balanced and therefore she shouldn’t feel too bad about that being all he was willing to eat, right? If he was willing to eat one now she’d gone and stressed him out.
She could- Maybe?
She clambered to her feet as slowly as she could, trying not to spook the toddler. He’d crawled forwards slightly in the time between when she’d last checked on him and now; still clearly ready to shrink back to safety at the first sign of danger but when she put more distance between herself and his hidey hole in order to unzip the soft bag of supplies, he actually dared to stick his head out.
Or maybe that was just an instinctual response to the familiar rustle of ration packaging within.
“You hungry?” Sara asked gently, grabbing one of the bars at random. “Is this what you’re after?”
Big yellow eyes merely blinked at her. As if the answer was evident.
And maybe it was to someone who could hear subvocals.
Instead of approach, she put her back to the solid side of the desk and slid down it. He was definitely watching the packet in her hand more than her, given how quickly his eyes dropped. Fine. She could work with this- this much was doable. “If you want it, you’ll have to come and get it.” She reasoned, tearing the packet open just enough to reveal the bland, grey bar inside. It smelled vaguely meaty and… how did they find these things appetising?
He sniffed the air cautiously and- right. Obligate carnivores.
Sara waggled the bar, hoping it would be all too tempting for him to resist. Sure enough, his little head popped out from under the edge of the bed and then his attention turned more to her than the food with a frustrated little whine.
“It’s right here.” But right there involved him leaving his safe spot entirely and approaching her, didn’t it? Which, if she forced herself to take a step back from the situation on an emotional level, was absolutely pushing too hard and too fast. Not fair on him.
Fine. Floor food it was.
She placed the bar on the floor and, after checking how much resistance the foil packaging had against the smooth metal, slid it across to him. Before it’d even reached halfway between them, he lunged forwards, a hand closing over the packet before he squirmed backwards once more - stubby little mandibles raised in glee at his prize. He didn’t move back under the edge of the bed this time, fumbling fingers tearing the packaging open, but instead rolled back to sit with his back to the void, head against the edge of the frame.
It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but it was a little victory all the same- more than she’d achieved half an hour before.
She could take that.
“Mom?”
Sara pointedly rolled over, an arm over her head to cover her exposed ear, for all the good it did her.
“Moooom?”
Nope. Not listening. No matter how much he whined. She was sleeping and really wanted to remain that way, until the ship’s artificial dawn cycle at the very least for once.
“Mom.” This time the call was accompanied by a tug on the duvet and she gripped it more firmly in her other hand. He’d have to try harder than-
The next attack came from the side, out of her reach and where she was unable to put up defences against him. A huff of delight as he realised this and then Des wormed his way between the duvet and her grip on it, wriggling until he’d found just the spot - back against her chest, cheek on her shoulder and arms wrapped around hers in a surprisingly effective deathgrip.
“I need to sleep some more.” She yawned into the top of his head, resettling so the back of his cowl didn’t dig in quite so much. “Will you let me go back to sleep?”
“More sleep?” He whinged, nestling closer still with a complete lack of awareness that hugging him was like holding onto a little space heater. “You sleep so much- Mama’s already up.”
“But I need more sleep than Mama does.” Sara pointed out gently. “You know I sleep more than she does - if you want to be awake you’re going to have to go find her.”
A discontented rattle and he somehow managed to tighten his grip all the more- seriously, how was he this strong? He looked like there was nothing to him and yet he’d outdo a professional wrestler with that grip.
“Or you can stay here and go back to sleep.” A hard choice, for sure, given how he whined as he considered it. “But you can’t have it both ways.”
At least, from the height of his six years of life, he knew better than to try to argue against her giving him an ultimatum. That’d taken a while to get through to him but at long last he’d gotten it; if not before several early-morning screaming matches, especially once ‘go bother grandpa’ had stopped being a possible part of the morning routine.
Usually he didn’t actually want to cuddle up though, just wanted attention, which- “Why do you want to be here?” She asked, squeezing him closer in return for the way he was holding onto her. “What’s wrong, baby?”
It took him a moment to work through the question, as it often still did when he was asked to consider his own emotions in depth- still, take the win where they could, hadn’t there been a time when they’d been worried that he’d ever learn to talk?
And, for that matter, a time none too long ago where she’d been certain that he’d never come to her for affection. Now it was Vee who he pestered when he wanted to do something fun but her he came to for hugs- her he trusted to chase away bad dreams and the monsters under his bed or to just let him snuggle up on lazy mornings.
What a difference it was.
“Did you have a bad dream?” She prompted when he remained quiet for too long.
“Yeah…” He hid his face in her shoulder, as if she could shelter him from his own memories. “That.”
That tended to be what would have him demanding to be cuddled and coddled. The paediatric therapist had said they should expect whatever it was that he’d been through before winding up on Aya to stick with him in ways he wouldn’t ever be able to explain. ‘His trauma predates talking and often with children in his position that means they lack the ability to describe it.’
There was so much they’d never know; Had he seen his birth mother die? How long had it been between losing her and ending up on Aya? Just what had happened to him in that time?
Somehow, Sara suspected knowing the answer to any of those questions wouldn’t help her sleep any better.
“You know nothing will hurt you here, don’t you?” She asked, pulling him a little bit closer all the same. “Mom and Mama- everyone here; we’ll keep you safe. We’ll always keep you safe.”
“‘Course…” He mumbled thickly, but she felt him relax all the same for the reminder. “I know that, Mom.”
“Oh, you know that, do you?” She kissed the top of his head and he squirmed, whining in response; he’d never been all that big on kisses, which - probably a weird thing for a turian - but at least he now found it funny. “If you know so much then you know you have to let your poor old mom sleep in without being a little pest, don’t you?”
Oh that wasn’t popular, but his put out little sigh only made her grin all the more. “Fine.” He grumbled and, with the air of someone who was doing her a favour more than anything else, he finally consented to lie still.
But, as wide awake as she’d ended up in the process of settling him, it took Sara longer to get back to sleep than he needed- out like a light in barely two minutes judging by the way he’d gone limp and the tiny, buzzing snore he periodically gave. She didn’t mind though, not really; sometimes it was just nice to take the time to stop and simply exist in the moment.
It wasn’t easy but she rather suspected that parenthood never was - some people just liked to pretend they had it easier than others. At least they currently only had the one to contend with- how the hell mom had managed both her and Scott if they’d been like this-
Well…
She sometimes wished she could ask her just that.
More than that though, she wished that she could see her grandson; would she be proud of how Sara was managing this? She’d always told her she’d be proud of her no matter what she did and… when she’d been less certain of herself that’d felt like another impossible level to achieve. There were plenty of things she’d done that mom wouldn’t have been able to be proud of; and no doubt she’d be appalled by the things Sara allowed herself to say about Alec but- Des was something she though she would appreciate, if only because almost nobody was immune to how stupid cute he was.
Sometimes she did wonder if mom would think she was a bad parent for the way she handled her son; often in the same breath as wondering what Acipia would think of how her baby’s life had turned out but-
Speculating on the opinions other people had never even gotten to make would do nothing for any of them in the long run. Perhaps they’d be proud of her or just as likely they’d be horrified at the way things had turned out. She wasn’t Acipia Opitus any more than she was Ellen Harlow.
And… Des would probably have his own series of hangups to handle when he grew up, ways he’d hope to be a different parent again from what she and Vetra had been for him - that certainly seemed to be the way of things; each generation doing a little bit better than the last but never able to quite manage a level of perfection which likely couldn’t exist.
But maybe, she thought as Des rolled over in his sleep, whining softly whilst he switched to a different position and then clung on like a limpet once more - arms around her neck and legs wrapped around her waist like he’d lose her without that contact, maybe she wasn’t doing too badly at this whole parenting thing.