Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All her life, Nix Mortimer was accustomed to the bright vibrant mornings in the Caribbean. It was all she knew after all, having never set foot outside of the twin islands she called home. Even in the Tamana Caves, she could still feel the warmth reaching even the deepest trenches from within. So even a rainy day didn’t guarantee dullness and at least a slight chill. That sun was particularly powerful in that part of the world.

But now she was leaving it behind for something different.

It must’ve been sometime in the late morning when the Nix and her pup, Nisha, were watching as the ship they boarded drew closer and closer to land. The sky in the Arctic was a tad bit dimmer compared to how it was in the Caribbean and quite pale. The sun was more of a pastel yellow color than a golden sort and the sky slowly faded from blue to white as your eyes moved down. It wasn’t cloudy that day. Not to mention, it was freezing.

“Mummy, look!” Nisha cried out, pointing at whatever fascinated her as she clinged to the rails. So far, she seemed to be taking well to the new environment. Nix was glad.

Perhaps she did go overboard with Nisha’s winter clothes. Sure, she didn’t want the child to catch a chill. But the overlayering seemed to be affecting her movements a little. Nix was considering taking off Nisha’s jackets as well as one of her sweaters when the ship finally docked.

The little bat looked up at her mother with her big bright eyes. “We there?”

“Yes, we here,” Nix said with a nod, taking her daughter’s hands. “Leh we go.”

The port was awash with all sorts of arctic creatures going to and fro, from the Common Frog to the much bigger Reindeer. But out of all the anthros they say, one group was prominent. None other than the polar bears. At a glance, one would mistakenly think all polar bears were the same. But from their mannerisms to the way they dressed, it was clear which polar bear came from where.

Nix held Nisha’s hand as she guided through the crowd. It was tricky, a majority of them being much taller than the both of them. But they weren’t going to be lost, not with echolocation on their side. So even if for some reason, the Eirwyn family were for some reason woefully quiet (an impossibility with Orson and Ursa) Nix knew how to tell them apart by how the sound waves bounced off them. And even with Nisha yapping her ear off.

“Mummy, does Daddy Barnacles live in ah big house?” Nisha asked.

“Yes, in ah big house with Tanty Bianca and dem,” Nix answered. And by dem, she meant Orson and Ursa, as well as Bianca’s husband, Nowell. Barnacles had never owned a house of his own, spending much of his time in the Octopod.

But that was something Nix and Barnacles planned to change as soon as they could.

“Wow…” Nisha breathed, possibly imagining a house much bigger than what was realistically feasible. “Is de house nice?”

“Real nice,” Nix answered, sensing that they were getting close to their family.

There was a small pause before Nisha added. “Ah want meh room big and nice.”

“We go see wuh we can do.”

There were eyes on them, not due to them being bats, at least not that by itself. There were bats native to places like the Arctic and Antarctic, aptly named after where they came from. Created by the now critically endangered human race to aid in the Bloodiest Years War, the only thing that could be a downside was that they were almost completely white. Other bats meanwhile, especially from hotter climates, came in a variety of colors.

Nix and Nisha were both various shades of violets and purples, making them stand out from the ocean of whites, browns and greys.

“Oh bebe, look at you all dolled up,” a voice exclaimed from behind.

Not once did Nix stop or flinch. She only held Nisha’s hand tighter and picked up the pace. She didn’t know if that voice was speaking to her but she had no time for it. But it followed them.

“You’re from the islands, right? The females there are always looking easy on the eyes, pretty colors and voluptuous curves. But you’re the most beautiful.”

Nix ignored it, trying to remain calm as she heard her own heart racing in her chest. The way he spoke to her reminded her too much of how Jabez spoke to her before they were engaged. She wished she could just disappear. Noticing that she was speeding up, whoever it was decided to catch up. Nisha began holding her mother’s hand with both of her own, no doubt just as anxious as her mother.

“I wish we could go back to the islands together, you and I. We’ll live up in the mountains and I’ll keep you barefoot and pregnant. You won’t have to work a day in your life,” and as he spoke he got close enough to grab her by the arm, the one that held on to a wheeled suitcase.

She pulled away swiftly, turning around as she hid Nisha behind her back. It was an Arctic Bloody Bat that followed her around, judging by the larger size and the blue pigmentation on parts of his fur. He didn’t seem at all phased that he made her feel threatened. Nix was going to make him.

“EEEEEEEEEK!” Nix let out a loud screech that seemed to fill the entire port. Everything and everyone seemingly screeched to a halt. All eyes were on Nix, Nisha and the Arctic Bat.

The Arctic Bat was frozen where he was. He looked around, seeing all the glares pointed in his direction. Perhaps he wanted to run. But he stood where he was, opening his mouth to say something, maybe attempting to save face and switch up the situation in his favor.

“Nix! Nisha!” A familiar voice called out from behind them. Nix and Nisha turned to the source. Cutting through the crowd was none other than Barnacles. He put himself between Nix, Nisha and the other bat. “Are you alright?”

The Arctic Bat began to tremble at the sight. He had seen many polar bears before. But ones as big as Barnacles were dangerous to mess with. “I… Uh… Think there was a misunderstanding here… I…”

“Hubby, dis man was following we and saying real nasty tings!” Nix interrupted, stepping closer to her polar bear husband.

Just one look from Barnacles was enough to send the Arctic Bat flying away, unaware that the polar bear he encountered wasn’t one for violent retaliation. But at the same time, Barnacles wasn’t afraid to use that misconception to scare off creatures when he needed to.

“Daddy, daddy! Up, up!” Nisha freed herself from her mother’s grip, raising her hands up high as if Barnacles was too tall to hear what she wanted.

“Sorry that happened,” Barnacles said to Nix as he picked up Nisha. “I should’ve been there at the docks to meet you.”

Nix let out a sigh of relief. “Ah jus glad you came, oui…”

Sensing that his wife was still shaken, he held Nisha effortlessly on one arm and took Nix’s hand with his free hand. “We should get to Bianca and the others. They’re waiting out in the car park.”

Barnacles’ touch by itself put Nix at ease. He always did have a warmth about him that made her feel safe. That was one of the many reasons Nix loved her husband so much. No other man made her feel this way, not even her father or brother.

Things began going by in a blur for Nix. Maybe she did say a couple of things to her sister-in-law and her family. Maybe she also said a few things to Nisha as she pointed at all the new things she saw on the ride home. Or maybe she did none of those things. Nix couldn’t remember the last time she let her guard down that much. She was leaning on Barnacles on the drive home, still holding his hand.

Her new life in the Arctic was uncertain. That perverted Arctic bat might not be the only problem she’d have to deal with. And with Barnacles being an Octonaut, he wasn’t always going to be around to defend her from every little thing. But at that very moment, everything felt so right and Nix knew she and Nisha were in good hands.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Nix opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Barnacles. He was still very much fast asleep. It was quite early, still dark out. This was far from the first night they shared a bed. Five years of marriage meant they spent many nights together. But no matter how much time had passed, it felt so surreal yet simultaneously wonderful to her that they were married and slept with each other.

She and Jabez never shared a bed while they were married. Not that Nix would’ve enjoyed it anyhow.

Barnacles’ arm was on her waist, holding her close but not to the point of pressing their bodies together. Perhaps he worried about the size difference again. Even though she was a bat, Nix knew all too well why many were attracted to her husband. He fit the polar bear ideal perfectly, being tall and plump yet muscular. Had he not had such a gentle, handsome face, this immense size would’ve been frightening. Instead, he was a comfort to all who knew him.

Nix reached out for his face with one hand, tenderly resting it on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. She couldn’t figure out why she did that aside from liking it. When they first married, this used to wake Barnacles up. But he had grown so accustomed over the years that he slept through it. He was never bothered.

She pulled herself closer, wrapping her arms around him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her too despite being asleep. She took a deep breath and smelled the sea. Not the artificial, abstract kind that came from body spray for men–Jabez’s scent. Barnacles actually smelt like the sea. It made Nix think about past memories that never happened yet comforted her all the same. Before she knew it, she had drifted off again.

When next she opened her eyes, the room was illuminated by the soft Arctic day and she was alone in bed. The blanket, which she vividly remembered only covering up her hips when she last woke, covered up to her shoulders. Barnacles had woken up and tucked her in as he got ready for the day.

Even though it had been years, Nix still loved how easy mornings were with Barnacles. It allowed her a moment to breathe before locking in for the day, a privilege she never had due to being a single mother. Then again, she knew that she preferred that still over what Jabez probably would’ve made her endure.

The thought of it made her shudder with disgust.

It all began fifteen years ago. Charlotte Street was bustling as always. Many cars were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, others took up any spaces that could work as a parking spot. And what wasn’t taken up by cars were taken up by vendors, selling either various produce, various jewelry or whatever article of clothing they got their hands on. The sun was out but it wasn’t terribly hot.

She could feel their eyes on her as she passed by. Not that she cared. Nix knew that her sense of fashion was rather idiosyncratic compared to what was expected from the average Trinidadian woman. But she didn’t care.

Her fringed shag, which was a pain to style thanks to her large ears, went down to her lower back. Her arms were overcrowded with colorful kandi bracelets, Silly Bandz, wristbands and a pair of fingerless gloves. The shirt and shorts were the most normal part of her outfit. Then she just had to finish it off with a pair of torn up tights, fluffy leg warmers and a pair of platform shoes.

She strode past stalls piled high with merchandise and pedestrians going to and fro, feeling their eyes on her and hearing them whisper amongst themselves. They should mind their business, she thought to herself. After all, she was only getting resources for a project she had to make for her mortuary science course.

There was a particular variety store that had just what she needed.

Liu’s Variety Store, which had apparently been around since her father’s time, was a monument to organized chaos. It was two cramped levels of goods ranging from cheap bootleg plastic gadgets to industrial-strength cleaning supplies and then some. It was permeated with the artificial odor of Little Trees stuck onto the air conditioners even from the outside.

Nix took a deep breath before pushing past the heavy glass doors, the jangling of the welcome bell momentarily drowning out the noise from the streets. She ignored the way the elderly Chow Chow behind the counter widened her eyes at the sight of the offbeat outfit. Heading straight to the back, she scanned the aisles just to be sure that nothing had been moved from where she remembered them being stocked.

She needed specific modeling compounds for her project, facial reconstruction practice to be specific. Nix was required to recreate realistic tissue repair on a mannequin head, an important step in learning the art of embalming.

In her search for what she needed, she had failed to notice that someone was standing right in front of her.

She collided with him, sending the various stationary from his grasp clattering to the floor. Instantly mortified by what happened, Nix bent quickly to retrieve the fallen assortment of pens, notebooks, boxes of paper clips and personal organizers before she could even think to apologize.

“Watch it nah, gyal!” a voice, deeply resonant, spat out. “Yuh blind or wuh?”

Nix bristled, desperately clutching what she had picked up. “Ah so sorry…! Ah wasn’t-” she trailed off before finally looking up.

It was a fellow bat though his smaller ears and elongated snout made it instantly recognizable that he was a different species, a fruit bat to be precise. He was distinctly masculine, wearing a dark crisp silk suit with a gold diamond encrusted watch and a pair of limited edition luxury running shoes that clashed with everything else. His wings, which were neatly folded along his back, were expansive and his fur green with yellowish undertones. He looked down at Nix with the usual judging condescension. But there was also an odd, intense curiosity that made Nix’s cheeks heat up.

“Going to ah party or wuh?” He asked, still scanning her from head to toe. His voice was smooth, almost oily, but undeniably authoritative.

“Nah… Ah was jus looking for tings for meh project…”

“Eh eh!” He drawled with unwelcome familiarity. “For a potion, ent?”

Nix felt a strange mix of annoyance, mild intimidation and attraction. She stood up straighter, trying to regain the air of effortless defiance she had when she walked in. So many assumed she was some kind of witch because of the way she dressed. “Nah, man! Is for meh facial reconstruction project!”

“Facial reconstruction for what?” He asked, raising a brow as he smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“For mortuary science. I studying to be ah mortician.”

The older man chuckled. “Mortuary science, eh? Dat is fascinating, oui. Meh name is Jabez, by de way. An’ you is ah sight fuh sore eyes on dis dreary street, yes.” He took a step closer. “Yuh style real unique. Ah never see a gyal dress like this, nah.”

Nix’s ears twitched, a nervous habit she tried to hide. He was probably just flattering her in an attempt to charm his way into her space. And yet, her heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted more of him or to run away. “I’s Nix,” she replied curtly, stepping back to maintain their distance.

“Nix,” he repeated with a grin, the name rolling off his tongue possessively. “Ah beautiful name for ah beautiful creature. Lemmeh help yuh find de tings you looking for.”

That made Nix swoon again. She had a feeling in the back of her mind that she should refuse his offer. But she also really wanted to accept. After all, her mother told her that men loved to tease women they liked. She felt a knot of excitement tighten in her stomach. Nix was used to being the weird girl, the one people talked about when they thought she couldn't hear, not the one actively pursued.

It felt exhilarating to grab the attention of a man who wasn’t a freak, especially one who seemed to be so important. She had to seize the opportunity.

“Okay,” Nix managed, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jabez’s smile widened, bearing a flash of sharp white teeth. He took her hand with a firm grip, pulling her almost forcefully to the part of Liu’s that had the supplies she was looking for. He navigated the crowded, dimly lit aisles with an almost preternatural ability to ignore the clutter, talking to Nix about her coursework and her personal life with an intense focus that made her feel like the most important person in the world. He made sure to compare her to other women, just to let her know how superior she was to them.

The older bat had a way of speaking that was inherently authoritative, as if everything he had said was an undeniable fact. Yet he managed to frame it all as interest in her. He didn’t talk much about himself, only vaguely hinting at a job in ‘logistics and acquisitions’. Nix didn’t quite understand but it sounded important and demanding.

When they finally found what she was looking for (plastalina clay), a small shared victory seemed to seal their connection.

“Gyul, ah like talking to yuh too bad,” Jabez confessed as they made their way back to the checkout counter. “Ah doh want to leave you.”

Nix hesitated before finally speaking up. “Gimme yuh number and I go give yuh mine.” She saw that the Chow Chow was eyeing them with a mixture of silent judgement but also, for some reason, pity.

Jabez reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small, exquisite gold pen. From the linen shirt he wore underneath his suit, unbuttoned at the collar, Nix could see the hint of a gold chain, a further reminder of his wealth. He leaned against the counter, plucked a receipt from the stack next to the till (much to the chagrin of the Chow Chow), and scribbled something quickly. He then handed the paper to Nix. It was his number. “Dat is meh number. Use it. Tell meh more about you. Yuh is such an interesting gyal.”

“Thanks,” Nix took the paper, holding it as if it was far more precious than diamonds, before finally carefully securing it into her pocket. Then she gave him her number as well, though she made sure not to take a random receipt like Jabez did. As a final gesture, Jabez paid for the plastalina clay for her with his custom credit card. Then he left.

Jabez…

As soon as she got home, Nix wasted no time adding his number to her flip phone and giving him a call. They spoke over the phone for hours, at least until low batteries got in the way. That night, Nix couldn’t sleep. She was eager to call Jabez again, to live out a fairy tale that seemed so out of reach for a strange woman like. They spoke the next day. And then the day after. Three days later, they found themselves going out on a date.

Jabez took Nix to a sophisticated, luxury restaurant where he convinced her, quite easily at that, to put her badge-covered bag, and all its noisy, childish accessories, away where no one could see it. After all, that kind of stuff didn’t belong there. But he assured her that he loved her distinct sense of style.

“Is a distraction,” he explained gently. “Yuh real pretty, Nix. Leh we see the real you and not dis performance.”

It sounded enough like a compliment for Nix to listen to him. She swallowed the advice whole, wanting nothing more than to impress this man. She could be the kind of woman he wanted in these settings lest he lose interest and leave her.

Jabez was a master of subtle control. He seemingly never outright forbade Nix from wearing her eccentric fashions nor partaking in the subcultures she enjoyed, but he developed a system of gentle, smiling disapproval. If she obeyed, she was rewarded with compliments, attention and expensive gifts. But if she resisted, he would sigh, a soft, weary sound, and the date’s enjoyment would instantly deflate. He’d be a bit more cold, refusing to look or speak to her. It never took long for Nix to apologize and right what she was led to believe was wrong.

The kandi bracelets eventually disappeared into a drawer. The fluffy leg warmers were deemed “improper” and also put away. Nix, who had only spent over a year defining herself by her refusal to conform since she came of age, found herself conforming for him.

She told her family about him, then eventually introduced him, and their adamant approval only solidified in Nix’s mind that she needed Jabez. And it wasn’t long before Nix found herself being pushed to marry him.

Jabez made his move quickly. Within six months of dating, they were living together in a big, well-manicured house that he insisted be furnished in minimalist, muted tones and contemporary furniture. It was a stark contrast to the colorful maximalist way of design that Nix loved but which she had steadily surrendered.

It took some convincing but at last, out in the middle of a mall, Jabez got down on one knee and proposed to Nix, with expensive gifts to further coax her into saying yes. It was overwhelming, all the eyes that were not only on them but specifically her. If she had any doubts, she forced herself to disregard them and accept.

And so, she became Mrs. Jabez Gildersleeve. The wedding was huge, dramatic and opulent, dictated entirely by Jabez's obsession with flaunting his wealth. Nix wore a dress that was beautiful but felt more like a costume and definitely wasn’t something she’d pick for herself. In the middle of dressing, Nix found herself filled with so much dread it was making her ill, and she called her mother to help cancel the wedding. But she had to go through with it, told that she only had cold feet because it was her wedding. Nix forced herself to smile relentlessly, telling herself that this was what stability felt like. This was adult life.

The entire ordeal didn’t go smoothly for Nix; in the middle of saying her vows, she got so queasy that she had to stop and puke. Jabez's vows were short and only spoke about her in an objectifying way. When it was time to cut the cake, despite her warning him not to, Jabez slammed Nix’s face down on the cake, just barely missing the wooden dowels that kept the cake standing. And finally, Jabez tricked Nix into jumping into a pool by herself by making it seem like he was going down with her. The weight of her dress made it hard for her to swim.

Nix tried, truly, to believe that Jabez loved her. He did marry her after all. But the love, she found out very quickly, was conditional. It was conditional on her quietness. It was conditional on her obedience. It was conditional on her appearance.

And even then, it was very questionable.

Nix had to drop out of college without completing her mortuary science course. According to Jabez and pretty much everyone she knew, it was much better and easier for her to be a housewife as opposed to dedicating her life to death positivity. It didn’t suit her new life. Even though it broke her heart to give up her dream, Nix didn’t want to disappoint anybody.

But she found out pretty quickly that life as a housewife wasn’t as glamorous as 1950s Americana made it out to be.

There were no off days or even sick days even if her condition made minding the house difficult. And even though only her and Jabez lived there, it was difficult to keep the home consistently clean on the daily. On top of that, she had to prepare breakfast, lunch and dinner. What didn’t help was that Jabez only ate affluent dishes that took a lot of time and effort to prepare. Nix tried to maintain her well-groomed, dolled up look that made Jabez happy but it was too much to keep up with. She was on her own all day. Gradually, Jabez made Nix cut ties with many of her friends for one reason or another.

And even though they slept in separate bedrooms, not even the night could be a sanctuary for Nix. Jabez wanted nothing more than to have her bear him many sons. He wouldn’t stay the night after doing what he had to do and Nix couldn’t really argue despite the creeping sense of abandonment settling over her.

A child never seemed to come despite the various attempts, something that ended up being blamed on her.

Nix started seeing the true rigidity behind his charming façade. Jabez wasn't just orderly; he was inflexible. He didn't just enjoy control; he demanded it. But most important of all, he enjoyed looking good in public. His smooth voice which had once seduced her had become the sound of constant paternalistic correction at best and the immature whiny tantrums of a man-child at worst.

The years went by like a blur and Jabez slowly let more of his true colors reveal themselves. Gone was the mature, sophisticated man who valued her more than precious jewels. In its place was a petulant toddler who even went as far as striking Nix at least once, leaving a permanent scar on the lower left of her waist.

One night, about a year before the marriage finally fell apart, Nix found herself alone in her crammed bedroom. She was lying on her cold, small bed, staring at the muted gray walls. There was just the strong desire to talk to him, to argue with him, to beg for a gesture of connection.

She tip-toed down the silent hallway to the master bedroom. But before she could go inside, she stopped by a full-body mirror that happened to be there. Nix did not recognize the bat lady staring back at her as herself. She looked so tired, dreary and worn-out, just like her mother.

Nix felt her heart stop in her chest. Her mother. She remembered how her mother looked in old photos, specifically the ones from her youth. That woman in those pictures had lovely purple hair styled into banana curls and wore a tube top with a pair of hot pants. She was an aspiring singer, releasing a single song that was a minor hit at the time. And then she met him. Nowadays, Nix’s mother was defined by marriage and motherhood. It took a toll on her mind and body, to the point that she didn’t seem like the same woman in those pictures. But that was just how much she lost herself in marrying Elier.

Nix had lost herself too. She had stood there that night, wondering how and why she let Jabez chip away at the confident, colorful identity she used to have. It felt like she was in a cage, a perfect, suffocating cage. And she was the bird trapped inside, its wings cut so it wouldn't escape. The thought of that cage, of the years she had spent shrinking herself to make that ungrateful bastard happy, finally made her snap.

She needed to get out. She refused to accept her fate the same way her mother did.

Her focus shifted entirely from maintaining the prison she found herself in to charting the escape route. Jabez handled all the finances, giving her a small, fixed weekly allowance that was strictly for ‘household needs’, which he monitored meticulously through receipts. Nix began fabricating expenses, hiding the resulting change in the same bag he told her was ‘distracting’ and ‘noisy’.

Slowly and agonizingly, she accumulated a tiny, pitiful amount of money.

It wasn’t enough. She needed a contact, a destination and a plan for the inevitable end of that excuse of a marriage. At that rate, he was going to leave her high and dry.

Eventually, Nix found the forgotten prepaid first smartphone that Jabez had bought for her, only really used during an ill-fated phase of trying to sell handmade plushies online. It was buried deep in a box filled with her college memorabilia left in the attic. The phone was useless without service, but it was a crucial piece of equipment.

One afternoon, she dared to do something risky. She convinced Jabez she needed to go to the pharmacy for a specific, obscure homeopathic remedy her mother had recommended for fertility issues, one that she knew would require her to use the car and be gone for at least an hour. Somehow, he let her go.

She drove straight past the pharmacy to a sketchy corner store a few towns over, one she knew wouldn’t be linked to his usual credit card accounts. With her precious, hidden cash, she activated a new, disposable SIM card for the phone. The first call made on it in years was the hardest. But she knew she had to breach the connections Jabez had shattered for her plan to work.

She dialed the number of Nox, her eldest sister. She was lucky enough to get the long end of the stick when it came to marrying into the wealthy, earning herself a husband who worshiped the very ground she walked on. He gave her the means to be a socialite, something that disgusted Jabez enough for him to force Nix to cut ties with the excuse that her sister had become a ‘bad influence’.

The phone rang twice. Nix began to wonder if she should hang up, her heart hammering against her ribs. What if Nox had changed her number? Worse yet, what if she hated Nix for abandoning her?

“Hello, who is this?” The voice was Nox, the same soft honeyed voice that only had a change of accent due to her living in the US for a while.

Nix gulped. After years of silence, she was speaking to her big sister. “Nox? Is me… Nix.”

There was a long beat of silence on the other end that was so profound Nix thought the line had dropped.

“Nix? Holy hell! I was just thinking about you! Jabez finally let you out of the stepford themed dungeon?” Nox’s tone shifted from shock to a simmering, protective anger. “I’m guessing he doesn’t know about this.”

“Ah cyar talk long,” Nix whispered, looking around and dreading Jabez suddenly appearing out of nowhere. “Ah know I did cut yuh off and I sorry for dat. But ah need yuh help. Ah need to get out fast.”

Nox’s voice immediately became low and serious. “Where are you? What do you need?”

Nix explained the situation in clipped, urgent sentences, painting the picture of her suffocating marriage without dwelling on the worst details. She didn’t need to; Nox understood the gravity of Jabez’s control.

“Ah need a place to go, Nox, but ah need to finish working on something first. Ah need a safety net. Ah need to go back to school. And ah doh want he to cause you trouble.”

Nox didn’t hesitate. “I’ll give you all the cash you need for that course. And should anything happen, you can come and stay with me. I’ll help you organize your documents and your cash.”

Nix wept for the first time after months of just being emotionally numb. She had a lifeline.

The following months were the most exhausting ones of her life. She was living a double existence; being Jabez’s submissive and diligent housewife while also secretly studying to be a mortician. It wasn’t easy to maintain and there were many close calls, especially when, somehow, she had finally gotten pregnant. But somehow, Nix had managed to pull through.

The unexpected pregnancy did put a slight damper on her plan. Jabez erupted with joy when Nix couldn’t hide it anymore, already making plans for this unborn child that he was sure was going to be his much sought after firstborn son. It made her worry. If she had a son, she didn’t want to leave him with Jabez. She feared the person this son would become if that happened.

But her pregnancy ended up being a blessing in disguise.

She was 18 weeks in. An ultrasound had been scheduled. Jabez was much too talkative during the ride there, bragging about how he was sure that he had Nix not carrying a single boy but multiple. Nix bit her cheek, trying to control her emotions. But having more than one boy made Nix want to faint. But when the ultrasound scanner was pressed against her pregnant belly and showed what was inside, Jabez’s joy faded quickly. As for Nix, she felt her heart reach out for her unborn child.

The baby was a girl.

On the ride home, Jabez was absolutely silent, a look of very apparent disappointment painting his face. Nix felt tense, didn’t want to be anywhere near him, worried he may lash out violently again. Thankfully, the car trip was quiet, albeit very agonizingly so.

Jabez went straight to the master bedroom, slamming the door shut. He refused to come out or talk to Nix for the rest of the day, perhaps coming to the conclusion that she was at fault for the baby who should’ve been his rightful heir being a girl.

The morning after, Nix woke to an unnerving quiet. It wasn’t the natural peace of a day starting off slow. It was the echoing void left by a massive, controlling presence. She slid out of bed, her 18-week pregnant belly shifting her center of gravity somewhat. Jabez was nowhere to be found. She checked his walk-in closet. Aside from stuff that was out of style or didn’t fit him anymore, everything was gone. His favored slippers were gone. The heavy brass keys to his study were missing from the bedside table. A mixture of cold terrier yet odd relief washed over her.

Having a daughter gave Jabez the motivation to up and leave her. The divorce papers and the cold letter telling her to leave at once delivered to her a week after only affirmed this.

She should be glad, and in a way, she was over the moon. But at the same time, she also felt immense grief that shocked her. After the many things she had to endure during her marriage to Jabez, she hadn’t expected to mourn their marriage. But mourn she did, allowing a river of tears to flow. And then it just stopped abruptly.

Nix got work packing everything she owned, which, excluding the memorabilia she kept, wasn’t much. Then she gave Nox a call, letting her know that she needed to stay over for quite some time, at least until she could get back on her feet. As she stepped across the threshold for the last time, she passed the spotless, minimalist hell that was once her kitchen, her dining room and her living room. Nix grabbed her keys, walked out her front door, locked it and dropped them into a nearby storm drain.

Then she walked, further and further she went without looking back once and despite the bundle she had growing inside of her. She was heading towards the one thing she had long for the moment she finally realized the trap she had gotten herself into; freedom.

Nix landed on Nox’s doorstep, a bundle of gratitude and raw nerves. Nox, her older sister, had always been a steady anchor, and now, more than ever, Nix needed that unwavering support.

The first few weeks were a blur of morning sickness, relief, and occasional, unexpected bouts of tearful grief for a life she hadn't wanted but still lost. Nox, with her quiet strength and a seemingly endless supply of herbal tea, simply held her, offered comforting silences, and listened without judgment. It was a stark contrast to the stifling silence and perpetual judgment that had defined her previous home. The absence of Jabez’s thunderous presence was a palpable thing, a weight lifted she hadn’t even realized she was carrying until it was gone.

The air felt lighter, the colors brighter, and the very concept of peace finally felt within reach.

The meeting with Captain Barnacles was, as most things truly life-altering are, completely unexpected and delightfully absurd, a perfect capstone to her new, liberated existence. Nix buried her face in her knees as she recalled the moment their eyes met, right as he rescued her from being swept away by flood waters. Something just clicked between the bat and the polar bear at that very moment despite having just met each other. Of course, thereafter, they would get to know and court each other properly.

Nisha arrived several months later, with Nix only having her sister to support her in the maternity colony due to the divorce damaging her reputation amongst many fellow bats. But Nix didn’t care. The little pup, who looked exactly like her mother and had no traits from Jabez, filled Nix with an overwhelming surge of purpose and a love so profound it stole her breath.

Captain Barnacles, true to his word and his steadfast nature, became a fixture in their lives. He visited daily, his enormous polar bear frame a gentle contrast to the brash bat whose place he had taken in Nix’s life. He’d read stories in a contralto voice that soothed Nisha to sleep, often with Nix nestled contentedly beside him, her head tucked under his massive arm. He never pressed, never rushed, simply offered a steady presence that proved more comforting than any grand gesture, his quiet acts of service speaking volumes. In his eyes, there was no judgment for her past, only profound admiration for the mother she had become and the woman she was.

It was the shared support of her older sister and soon-to-be husband that helped Nix through college. The studies were as rigorous as she remembered, the subject matter often somber. But Nix found a strange, compelling peace in it. She learned about anatomy, embalming techniques, grief counseling, and the delicate art of funeral planning. It was a world away from Jabez's sterile, demanding expectations, a world where she could be quiet, methodical, and profoundly empathetic. She graduated with honors, her certificate hanging proudly on the wall, a testament to her resilience and newfound sense of self.

Five years later and things were still looking up. She and Barnacles were looking to build their own home in the Arctic and Nix was eagerly awaiting when she could finally open her own mortuary, allowing anthropoids the myriad of options they didn’t know were open to them when it came to dealing with death.

Nix sat up, unfolding her long wings and stretching the stiffness from her back. She felt optimistic. It was time for her to start her first day in the Arctic in earnest.