Chapter Text
Indiana is not the kind of place where the summer is nothing but a scorching inferno disguised as free time, and today was no different. The June sky was a pale bright blue, with no more than a dozen white fluffy clouds floating inside of it. It was 1986, the year that brought the world such things as the dinosaur Baryonyx, Push Pops, and Top Gun.
One older blonde man was sitting outside on the porch of a rather huge, Victorian house. White adorned the edges of each of its components and wrapped itself entirely around the porch's columns. The house, which had been in the Creel family for a few generations, was neatly kept despite its size and number of inhabitants, but that did not stop it from having an eery feel. The mild spookiest did not stop children from visiting the house though, even on Halloween when the wind is cold as winter's morning dew and the sky is an inky abyss. A house that's so huge must be owned by someone with a lot of money for candy, right?
Alas, it's occupant- the man on the porch, Henry Creel- was not able to give the kids the multiple full-size candy bars that they envisioned in their mind. It was not out of greed or hatred, however. No, not at all. He quite adored the company and cheeriness of children, and would easily fork over a whole bowl in a heartbeat if a group of kids pleaded for it.
This adoration, however, led to the reason why he could not do such. For Henry Creel- good-old, quiet neighbor in a big manor Henry Creel- was an Omega. Henry had never heard of another one in his life, but there he was. Entirely male, yet plenty capable of carrying and delivering a baby (in just 6 months, too!). Despite the strangeness of this (it was a very strange thing indeed), it didn't cause Henry any despair, nor did he care to really study himself and figure out how this was biologically possible. No, he decided to do what his biology clearly wanted him to: Have a baby of his own.
The first kid was rough. Very, very rough. The labor hurt, yeah, but what came after was the most chaotic thing Henry had ever been put through. Alongside his various odd jobs within Hawkins, he had to take care of this squirming, helpless, troublesome little creature until it finally gained enough sense to go to school.
After that, Henry had another one despite just finishing up the rough experience of raising a toddler. After all, he had more experience now so it would hopefully be easier. Plus, they were just so precious! How could he have only one? What if the kiddo got sad alone? He couldn't do such a thing to a tiny little human!
So, on and on it went. Henry had kid after kid, until he reached where he is now. Sitting on the porch, gently rocking in a chair with his fifteenth kid resting on his lap. The baby was only a few months old, and currently asleep. Henry was so exhausted from taking care of everyone, and so grateful to get some quiet. This didn't last for long, though. A group of kids he didn't recognize was playing on his lawn. One with long, curly hair held under a hat was sitting on the grass, panting after running around for the past twenty minutes. The one next to him was darker skinned, and poking a kid with long, dark black hair with a cardboard sword. The kid being poked paid no mind to him, instead watching a boy with a bowl cut. Henry noticed the love in that look instantly, and felt a bit bad for the poor fella that was falling in love with someone who had a bowl cut.
Henry had no qualms with these children, who were probably more likely teenagers when he thought about it (This didn't really matter, though, they were all little ones to him). He had no rules against being on the lawn, and did not usually desire to interrupt some random merriment happening on his lawn. But today, he was so tired, and the yelling of the kids was getting on his nerves in a way that wouldn't happen if he wasn't sleep-deprived and raising a baby.
"Hey!! You all! Go find someone else's lawn to be on!"
Henry yelled harshly. The kids all groaned and got their stuff before walking off. They seemed pretty upset, so Henry felt a tad bit guilty as they ventured off into what was barely suburbia.