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Being a parent was never easy. Being a parent and a Cleaner made things even harder, but you and your husband, Bro, handled it well together. Over the years, the two of you had built a real home in the middle of The Ground's endless chaos. Not just for yourselves, but for Dear and Guita too.
You still remembered the day Bro had brought him home.
He had been wrapped tightly in Cloth, his vital instrument, with only a tiny face peeking out from the fabric. The baby looked so small in Bro’s massive arms. At first, Bro had looked awkward holding him, almost nervous, but his grip had remained careful the entire time.
"I couldn't just leave a defenseless kid on the street," Bro had explained, his deep voice rumbling with tenderness as he looked down at the bundle. You had been instantly taken by the baby, and it wasn't long before he was given the name Dear. Some time afterwards Guita came along, another orphan on the streets. She was brought in by Arkha Corvus. You and Bro were happy to have her on the team.
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The years have gone by pretty pretty smoothly, you and Bro adjusted to being surrogate parents to Dear and Guita, seven and eleven respectively. They shared own room at Cleaners HQ while you and Bro had your own room.
Lately, you had been feeling off for nearly two weeks now. It wasn’t bad enough to knock you flat, but it wasn’t something you could ignore either. You kept brushing it off as exhaustion. Cleaner work was brutal on the body even on good days.
Standing before the mirror in your washroom, you splashed water onto your face. You leaned against the basin, drawing in a sharp, steadying breath. If Bro noticed anything wrong, he would hover around you all day. By the time you slipped out of your quarters, Team Child had already gone down to the central dining hall to grab breakfast with the rest of the Cleaners.
The hall buzzed with noise when you entered. Metal utensils clinked against trays while conversations bounced loudly across the room. You forced yourself to look normal as you walked over to your usual table. Guita was already in the middle of an excited story, gesturing dramatically with a fork in her hand.
Bro noticed you approaching immediately. His expression softened slightly as you sat down beside him. Without a word, he slid a plate toward you.
Fried eggs. Sausage. Pancakes stacked unevenly. Beside the plate sat a steaming cup of coffee. Normally, the smell would have made your stomach growl. Today, it made nausea rise sharply in your throat. Your stomach twisted violently.
Don’t throw up! Don’t throw up!
You froze, staring at the food for a beat too long. You didn't realize that your prolonged silence had drawn the attention of your fiercely observant husband. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
“I’m fine,” you lied. “Still got the bug, but I’m managing.”
Bro’s brows furrowed immediately. “What? You still don’t feel better?”
Before you could stop him, he pushed his chair back and stood. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the infirmary.”
Several heads at nearby tables turned.
Guita stopped mid-sentence, her large red eyes flicking between you and Bro. Dear, who had been quietly chewing with his pacifier dangling from his overalls, also looked up with a worried frown. Embarrassed, you grabbed Bro’s arm and pulled him back down into his seat.
"I told you, I’m fine. I just need to get some solid food into my system, and I’ll feel better. Watch."
To prove your point, you made a grand show of lifting the mug to take a sip of the bitter coffee, forcing down a small bite of the sweet pancakes despite the rebellion happening in your throat.
Bro kept his eyes locked on you, assessing the slight tremor in your hand. He remained silent for a long, tense moment before he let out a heavy, defeated sigh, deciding to let the matter rest—for now.
Dear made a small, doubtful grunt but went back to his food after a moment. Guita, however, wasn’t convinced so easily. “But you gotta tell us if it gets worse! Team Child sticks together, right? Even for gross germs!”
You smiled at Guita's statement. Bro watched you for a long second, eyes narrowed. Finally, he sighed and reached over to squeeze your hand under the table. “Alright. But if you feel any worse, let me know. No arguments.” You squeezed his hand back, grateful for his warmth. “Deal.”
The conversation slowly drifted back to lighter topics—Guita’s latest treasure find and Dear’s silent but enthusiastic nods—but you could still feel Bro’s occasional concerned glances. For now, though, you focused on keeping your breakfast down and holding onto the warmth of your little family.
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Semiu called everyone into the reception hall early that morning to brief them on the next assignment. A massive Trash Beast had emerged, and because of its sheer scale, Team Child was being paired with Team Akuta for the deployment.
Unfortunately, your master plan to act completely healthy had already failed. No one on Team Child had believed your "passing stomach bug" excuse from breakfast. The moment the briefing ended, the hovering began.
Guita was the least obvious about it, acting mostly normal aside from occasionally checking to make sure you were still standing upright. Dear, however, wasn’t subtle in the slightest. The kid had practically glued his eyes to you since breakfast.
No blinking. No looking away.
Just staring.
You laughed softly before leaning over and placing your hand over his face.
“Quit staring at me like I’m dying.”
Dear swatted your hand away immediately, pacifier bobbing irritably as he frowned up at you.
You couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he was, even when he was trying to be a tough bodyguard.
The warmth of that moment faded into a quiet tension during the journey. In the back of the transport vehicle, Bro kept his massive arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, pulling you tight against his side. He didn't say a word, but the steady, heavy pressure of his hold spoke volumes. He was terrified you were going to push yourself too hard.
You couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he was, even when he was trying to be a tough bodyguard.
The warmth of that moment faded into a quiet tension during the journey. In the back of the transport vehicle, Bro kept his massive arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, pulling you tight against his side. He didn't say a word, but the steady, heavy pressure of his hold spoke volumes. He was terrified you were going to push yourself too hard.
All of this hovering only made your resolve burn hotter.
If I can just show them I can fight, you thought, clutching your Vital Instrument tightly in your lap, they’ll finally relax and let it go.
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The Trash Beast waited in the center of a ruined clearing surrounded by collapsed buildings and mountains of garbage. It was massive, larger than most you had fought before—a grotesque, writhing thing made from twisted metal pipes, black sludge, broken machinery, and twitching tendrils that scraped loudly against the ground.
The creature roared.
The sound shook the earth beneath your feet.
Dust rained from nearby ruins.
“Move!” someone shouted.
The teams split instantly into formation.
You powered up your own Vital Instrument, determination burning through the heavy fatigue in your limbs. You attacked exposed weak points, striking hard despite your aching muscles. But something was wrong. A wave of dizziness crashed over you without warning. It wasn’t the kind you could shake off with a quick breath.
No, no, no… Not now.
Your vision blurred at the edges. Your breath came too fast and shallow. Your legs felt impossibly heavy, as if the gravel itself was trying to pull you down.
Still, you pushed through. You always pushed through. The beast swung a massive, pipe-covered arm toward you. You dodged, but your balance betrayed you. The world tilted sharply. Your foot slipped on loose debris.
Someone shouted your name.
The ground rushed up to meet you. The last thing you felt was the cold, gritty impact of gravel against your cheek. Then darkness, thick and absolute, swallowed you whole.
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Your eyes opened slowly.
For a moment, everything felt blurry and distant. The harsh white lights overhead made your pounding headache even worse, and every part of your body ached when you tried to move. You were lying in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages across your ribs, shoulder, and thigh. Pain pulsed through your body in waves while your head throbbed like a jackhammer.
A familiar face suddenly leaned into view. Eishia Stilza stood beside your bed with wide eyes and obvious relief written across her face.
“Thank goodness you’re awake,” she said with a long exhale. “You gave everybody a heart attack when you fainted. One of the supporters grabbed you and brought you here immediately.” She ended the sentence with a small smile, though concern still lingered in her expression.
You groaned quietly and let your head fall back against the pillow.
Great.
Bro was going to be furious.
And honestly, he had every right to be. You had insisted you were fine.
Eishia gently checked one of the bandages around your arm before continuing, “It’s okay, though. None of your injuries are life-threatening. You’ve got 2 sprained ribs, some and a minor concussion, but you’ll recover fine.”
“That’s comforting,” you muttered weakly.
“You’ll be able to go back to your room after resting a bit. Just come back in about a week so I can check on you again.” You nodded tiredly. Then Eishia clapped her hands together lightly.
“You were dehydrated and exhausted, which is probably why you passed out. You need more water, more sleep, and less reckless fighting.” She smiled brightly. “Also, congratulations on the baby!"
“Okay, Eishia, thank you for—”
Your entire body jolted upright so suddenly that sharp pain exploded through your ribs.
“Hey! Careful!” She quickly pushed you back down onto the bed. “Don’t move so fast!” You grabbed her arms tightly despite the pain.
“Baby?” you repeated in shock. “You said baby.”
She froze for a second, startled by your reaction. “When I examined you, I discovered you were pregnant. Around five weeks.” She tilted her head slightly.
“I knew I’d been feeling sick for a couple weeks,” you said weakly, “but I thought it was a cold or something. Not a...baby.”
"Relax, please!" Eishia said, looking alarmed by your sudden outburst. She gently patted your hand, her voice taking on a soothing, medical tone. "You need to calm your breathing. You don't want to place any unnecessary stress on the fetus."
"I'm sorry. This is just... a lot. Bro and I never talked about having another kid."
"I'm sure things will be fine." She lightly patted your shoulder. "Until then we need to be you on prenatal medications. You can get them from my grandma, she has better equipment for that at her clinic."
"Thank Eisha. Also please keep this between us."
She put her fingers to her lips in a closed zipper motion that made you smile.
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A few hours later Team Child came to get you from the hospital room. You were hungry and a little tired. Dear and Guita stayed in the dining room with all the teams to hang out while you picked up something bland and just wanted to escape to your bedroom with Bro. There was a lot you needed to talk about.
You sat on the shared bed looking up at your husband. "Honey, there's something I need to you."
He nodded waiting for you to continue.
“When Eishia examined me told me that I'm pregnant. Five weeks.”
Bro's jaw instantly slacked, he plopped on the bed next you in disbelief.
"What do you think? Is this... good? Bad?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, his tensed shoulders slowly relaxing as he processed the news. A familiar resolve settled into his features. "We already have two so it's not like we don't have experience," he replied. "He was an infant, and we figured it out. This won't be that different."
"It will be different for me," you countered gently, gesturing to your own body. "Dear was already born when we adopted him. This is an actual pregnancy. My body is going to go through changes and I won't be able to do field work anymore."
You felt him put his arms around your shoulders. "If you don't want to do this, you don't have to. I'm happy with the life we have right now." Then he cupped your cheek to make you face him. "But if you want to keep this child, then let's do it. You know we'll all be here to help along the way. You aren't doing this alone."
"That's true," you murmured. You hesitated for a brief second, looking down at his chest before meeting his gaze again. A tiny grin began to form on your face. "To be honest... half of me is absolutely terrified. But the other half, I'm kind of excited about it. A little me and a little you, running around the base."
Bro smiled at the thought. "So, what do you think?
You knew he was right, you wouldn't be alone in this. The other two would be the best older siblings ever and there were other jobs you could do at headquarters until you could come back to the field again.
"Okay, let's do it." His smile matched yours as both lips met one another.
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"Stop jumping around!" You were trying to get your three year old daughter to stand still to get her pants on. Riyo spend the new about a Spherite joining her team and that they are having a welcome party tomorrow, which is today. You really wanted to greet the new person but it's difficult to do that when your toddler won't let you put her... PANTS ON!
It took a tickle attack to get her to lie down the bed to accomplish your task.
"Mommy, I'm hungry!"
"If you'd stay still, we can get food quicker."
Finally she was all dressed up. You carried her to the dining room to see the party in full swing. Looking through the crowd, you spot an unfamiliar face. Enjin was sitting next to some really disheveled kid. He had dark circles under his eyes and was just staring at the table.
Poor kid, you thought. I wonder what happened before he came down here. He must be completely overwhelmed.
You shifted Tomoe higher on your hip and walked over. The moment you approached, the boy stiffened. His face went slightly red almost immediately, which only made him look more panicked.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you said kindly. “Welcome to the Cleaners.”
I was just complete silence from the kid, all he kept doing was staring at you. Your daughter didn't find him interesting and shimmed out of your arms to run to her dad. Thankfully, Enjin jumped in to the stop the awkward moment.
"Understandable to be in awe of a beautiful woman. His name is Rudo!" Enjin announced enthusiastically. "He’s the newest addition to my team. And let me tell you, you should have seen this kid yesterday! He kicked so much absolute ass yesterday! Some loser tried to kidnap him.
"Where were you when that happened," you raised an eyebrow at him.
"I was watching. He needs to know what it's like down here. He survived, he's got what it takes."
Frankly, you weren't surprised that Enjin would do something like that. Still you smacked his head in annoyance of the situation.
"Mommy, come sit with me," your daughter yelled from her table.
"Gotta go, make sure Enjin doesn't do anything more stupid."
You winked at Rudo as he continued to stare and mumbled a soft okay.
Bro scooted over for you to sit beside him, gesturing to a steaming plate. "I already grabbed your food while it was hot."
Thank you, honey," you beamed, leaning over to press a sweet, lingering kiss against his lips.
On the other side, the kids were eating. Well... Dear was but Guita and your little hellion were trading different items from each other plates. It looked like landmines smashed the dishes. You smiled at them giggling to each other.
You were busy watching the kids that you didn't see Bro smirk, leaning into you. "What do you think about having another kid?"
Turning your head in his direction with a look of disbelief. "If you want another one, you can carry it next time. I'll even throw in the foot rubs you did for me."
"Deal."