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“One of Xeno’s bullies has been hospitalized,” Stanley said carefully. “Do you know anything about that?”
Gina—Xeno’s stepsister—looked up from the flower she was tending.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass walls of the small indoor garden attached to the estate, catching against the dark curls framing her face. She held a pair of gardening shears in one hand, looking entirely composed despite the topic.
Stanley had come over intending to surprise Xeno, only to discover his best friend had stepped out for a while to buy something from the store. Unfortunately for him, Gina had noticed his arrival first and promptly recruited him into helping with her plants.
Which somehow led to this conversation.
“Why would that have anything to do with me?” She tilted her head just slightly. “I already handled that issue a year ago by befriending their parents. They stopped bothering Xeno after that.”
She had a point.
Stanley knew she did.
And yet, every instinct he had was screaming that Gina was involved somehow.
Even at fourteen, Stanley trusted those instincts.
“You know,” he said slowly, looking away for a moment as he adjusted the gloves on his hands, “hypothetically speaking… if you did have something to do with it…”
Gina hummed in amusement.
“…you should’ve told me,” Stanley finished. “I would’ve helped you. Hypothetically speaking.”
“Oh?” Gina sounded entertained now. “That’s a surprising amount of hostility coming from you when those boys never bullied Xeno too severely.”
“They hurt him,” Stanley’s expression flattened immediately. “That’s enough.”
For the first time since the conversation started, Gina’s smile softened into something more genuine.
“A valid point,” she admitted.
“Besides, I’m not going to pretend I’m a good person,” he continued. “Morals, ethics… whatever. I’m the son of a military man. I know how ugly people can get.”
“True,” Gina chuckled softly at that. “But hypothetically speaking, if I had caused their hospitalization, I still wouldn’t have asked for your help.”
Stanley frowned. “Why not?”
“Because,” Gina glanced at him over her shoulder. “hypothetically speaking, I wouldn’t want you to see that side of me.”
“The side where you protect Xeno?”
“And the side where I enjoy beating people up. Indirectly or directly.”
Stanley blinked.
For a brief moment, Gina’s expression changed.
Her smile widened just enough to become unsettling, her eyes sharp and bright in a way that felt distinctly wrong despite her calm posture. It was the kind of look that would make most people instinctively step back, even if it came from a teenager standing in a garden full of flowers.
So that was the truth beneath the elegance.
Gina was not a good person either. Although Stanley suspected as much.
Xeno simply failed to notice because he practically worshiped the ground she walked on. In his eyes, Gina can’t do wrong.
Did it matter, though? Not really.
As long as Gina cared about Xeno the way she did, Stanley found he could tolerate the rest.
He adjusted the watering can in his hands and nodded once.
“It’s fortunate,” he said dryly, “that this is only a hypothetical situation.”
Gina laughed softly. “Really fortunate.”
***
Gen would not stop crying.
Stanley had checked everything already.
Her diaper was clean. She had been fed less than an hour ago. He had wrapped her carefully in the blanket Gina bought months before her due date. He had carried her around the living room until his arms ached. He had spoken softly, awkwardly, tiredly, because apparently babies liked hearing voices.
Nothing worked as Gen kept crying.
And Stanley felt like he was slowly losing his mind.
It had been two weeks since Gina died during childbirth.
Two weeks since Gen entered the world screaming while Gina never opened her eyes again.
Two weeks since Stanley brought the baby home himself because nobody else seemed willing to step forward.
Not Xeno at first. Not Gina’s parents. Not even Gabriel—especially not fucking Gabriel, the father of Gina’s child.
Stanley gritted his teeth at the thought.
For two weeks, he had been leaving messages on Gabriel’s landline asking if he wanted to see his daughter, if he still wanted to take responsibility, if he even wanted to know how she was doing.
Nothing. Not even to ask or to visit.
As if Gen did not exist at all.
And Xeno’s parents were not much better.
They knew they had a granddaughter. They simply chose to ignore that fact.
Stanley had never hated Xeno’s family more than he did now.
The only fortunate thing was that yesterday, finally, Xeno had looked at Gen for longer than a few detached seconds and said he loved the baby.
It should have relieved Stanley more than it did.
Because right now, he was exhausted.
Not even sleep could fix.
There’s a constant heaviness pressing behind his eyes and into his bones.
For the past two weeks, Stanley had been forcing himself to learn everything alone.
How to properly hold a newborn without hurting her fragile neck. How to mix formula correctly because there was no mother to breastfeed her. How to sterilize bottles at three in the morning while Gen screamed loud enough to make his ears ring. How to recognize the difference between hungry crying, sleepy crying, and crying for absolutely no reason he could identify.
He had fallen asleep sitting upright more than once because he was too afraid to accidentally roll over onto her.
His house smelled faintly of milk powder, baby soap, and exhaustion.
And Gen—
Gen was so small on his hands.
Sometimes Stanley would stare at her tiny fingers curling around nothing and feel sick all over again because Gina should have been here for this.
Not Stanley.
Gina should have been the one carrying her daughter around while laughing about how terrible Stanley looked holding a baby.
Instead, Stanley was here alone.
Trying. Failing. Trying again.
He had not smoked for two weeks because he refused to let the smell cling to Gen’s blankets or clothes. At first, the nicotine withdrawal had been manageable compared to the shock of everything else.
Now it was unbearable.
Every nerve in his body felt wrong.
His hands shook sometimes from stress and exhaustion. His head constantly hurt. He had snapped at a cashier yesterday because she greeted him while he was buying formula.
The absolute worst part—
was that he was grieving while still being forced to function.
There was no pause as Stanely couldn’t afford to collapse now when there’s a baby he needed to take care of.
Gen still needed to be fed, held, and needed someone awake when she cried at night.
So Stanley kept moving because somebody had to.
But right now, sitting in the dim living room with Gen crying in his arms and the house feeling suffocatingly empty—he missed Gina so badly it physically hurt.
Gina, who manipulated everyone around her with terrifying ease.
Gina, who always knew exactly what to say whenever Stanley or Xeno spiraled into themselves.
Gina, who would have handled this situation perfectly.
He missed the certainty that came with her presence, like no matter how complicated things became, Gina would already have a plan.
Now she’s gone.
And Gen would not stop wailing.
The sound drilled into Stanley’s skull in a way that made his exhaustion worse, each wail sharp enough to scrape against already-frayed nerves.
So now he was desperately shaking a colorful rattle in front of her.
“Look,” he muttered tiredly. “Look at this thing. This thing is stupid.”
He shook it again. Still nothing.
Stanley even attempted making funny faces at her despite feeling ridiculous doing it. His expression twisted awkwardly, sleep deprivation making his coordination worse.
Gen only cried harder.
“Come on,” Stanley whispered. “Please…”
But it does not work. Stanley’s chest tightened painfully.
He did not know what else to do anymore.
He was tired.
So fucking tired.
His head hurt constantly. His hands felt unsteady from lack of sleep and nicotine withdrawal. He could barely remember the last full meal he had eaten. Every time Gen cried lately, panic immediately followed because what if something was wrong and he simply failed to notice it?
Gen wailed again, and it’s so, so loud.
Stanley shook the rattle harder.
“Please stop crying,” he said, voice strained now.
Another cry.
Another.
Another—
“Can you just shut the fuck up?!” Stanley shouted.
The rattle left his hand before he fully realized, hitting the opposite wall with a sharp clatter.
“Can you just shut the fuck up?!”
The slap landed hard enough to send five-year-old Stanley crashing onto the floor.
For a moment, he was too shocked to even cry properly.
He stared up at his father with wide eyes, cheek burning, ears ringing from both the impact and the yelling.
And the horrible thing was—
It worked.
Stanley stopped crying immediately.
Not only because his father ordered him to, but he was too shocked by what happened.
At five years old, that was the first time Stanley learned fear could silence someone faster than comfort ever could.
His mother stood nearby, looking away from Stanley’s figure.
The house fell silent except for Gen’s crying.
Stanley froze.
His breathing became uneven as realization hit him all at once.
Gen stared at him with wide watery eyes, tiny lips trembling before her cries became even louder than before.
No.
No no no—
“I’m sorry,” Stanley said immediately, grabbing her carefully into his arms again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
But Gen kept crying.
Stanley bounced her gently despite his shaking arms.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated desperately. “Please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to yell, I didn’t mean it—”
His voice cracked.
Gen continued wailing against his chest, terrified and overstimulated now, and Stanley could feel something inside himself starting to cave inward.
His vision blurred and his breathing became shallow.
For one horrifying moment, all he could think was that is how it starts, not from cruelty but exhaustion and frustration. One bad moment becomes another.
Just like his father.
The thought made him feel physically sick.
“No,” Stanley whispered shakily.
He held Gen closer immediately, like distance itself was dangerous.
“I’m not him,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m not him. I’m not him.”
But Gen was still crying.
And Stanley—
Stanley suddenly started crying too.
“What happened here?”
Stanley looked up sharply.
Xeno had just stepped into the house, still wearing his coat from outside, exhaustion visible on his face from wherever he had been earlier. But the moment his eyes landed on the scene in front of him—the discarded rattle on the floor, Stanley shaking, Gen crying in panic—his entire expression changed.
Then Gen reached out.
Tiny trembling hands immediately stretched toward Xeno the moment she saw him.
Stanley’s chest twisted painfully at the sight.
Whatever Xeno saw on Stanley’s face made him move without hesitation.
He crossed the room quickly and carefully took Gen from Stanley’s arms.
This time, when Gen settled against Xeno’s chest, her crying did not fully stop, but it softened. The loud panicked wails weakened into uneven hiccuping sobs as Xeno awkwardly adjusted his hold on her.
Xeno looked down at the baby first. Then at Stanley.
“…Stan?”
“I’m fine,” Stanley stood up too quickly.
The words sounded wrong the moment they left his mouth.
Xeno frowned. “Stanley—”
But Stanley was already walking away.
He ignored Xeno calling after him as he shoved the bathroom door open hard enough for it to hit the wall.
Then he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited.
His stomach cramped violently, acid burning the back of his throat as exhaustion, stress, guilt, grief, nicotine withdrawal, and panic finally crashed into each other all at once.
He gripped the toilet seat hard enough for his knuckles to ache.
Behind him, muffled through the door, he could still hear Gen crying softly.
***
Stanley stood in the backyard with a cigarette between his fingers.
The night air was cold enough to sting slightly against his skin, but he barely noticed it anymore.
He inhaled deeply before exhaling smoke into the dark.
“We’re going to adopt Gen, aren’t we?” he said quietly.
He already knew Xeno was there.
Years of military conditioning and sharpened instincts made it impossible not to notice another person approaching, especially someone as familiar as Xeno.
Xeno stepped out onto the backyard patio, the dim light from the house spilling briefly across his figure before the door shut behind him. Judging by the fact he was outside at all, Gen had finally fallen asleep.
Xeno moved to stand next to Stanley without complaint about the cigarette smoke curling through the air.
“We have to,” Xeno murmured after a moment. “Otherwise my grandparents might find a way to abandon her somewhere, even if doing that would technically be a crime, which they are very familiar with.”
So that was how the meeting went.
Stanley felt his jaw grind.
This was why Xeno had gone out earlier—to confront his parents, to test whether anyone in Gina’s family intended to step forward for Gen. Just one last chance.
Apparently not.
Stanley stared ahead silently.
He was not stupid.
If Gen’s own father refused to visit her… If her grandparents acted as though she did not exist… Then the answer had already been obvious long before tonight.
And yet, some stubborn part of Stanley had still hoped they would eventually come around.
Because they loved Gina. Everyone loved Gina.
She was impossible not to love once she decided someone mattered to her.
And Gen—
Gen was her daughter. Her blood.
An extension of her existence left behind in the world.
So why were they punishing the child for surviving?
Why were they looking at an infant and seeing blame instead of grief?
Stanley could not understand it.
If Gina were alive to witness this entire situation, she would have destroyed every single one of them without hesitation. Even Gabriel, who Gina mentioned to Stanley and Xeno in passing, was the love of her life.
“Xeno…” Stanley rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. “I am not fit to be someone’s parent.”
Xeno immediately looked at him with concern.
“What happened earlier, Stan?”
For a brief second, Stanley considered lying. Or at least minimizing it.
Because telling the truth meant exposing the ugliest part of himself—the part that frightened him most. The part that sounded too much like his father.
And Stanley did not want Xeno looking at him differently.
But then again…
Xeno had already seen nearly every terrible thing Stanley carried inside himself throughout the years.
And now, as his husband, Stanley owed him honesty.
So Stanley told him without trying to defend himself.
He recounted everything from earlier—the crying, the exhaustion, the frustration building until it burst out of him in one awful moment.
The yelling, the rattle hitting the wall, and the memory of his father surfacing immediately afterward.
Stanley kept his gaze fixed ahead the entire time.
“I scared her,” he finished hoarsely. “I scared a fucking infant because I lost control for one second.”
Silence followed, making Stanley’s stomach twist.
And then Xeno spoke.
“Stan, look at me.”
Stanley closed his eyes briefly.
Xeno had always sounded like that whenever he genuinely wanted something from him. It’s calm and soft, he uses it whenever he’s going to start pleading to Stanley.
Stanley had been weak to it since childhood, and marriage certainly had not improved his resistance.
Slowly, Stanley turned his head.
And immediately froze.
Because Xeno looked apologetic.
Before Stanley could process it properly, Xeno spoke first. “I’m sorry, Stan.”
“…What?” Stanley blinked in confusion.
“You’ve been under too much stress lately,” Xeno sighed. “You were taking care of Gen almost entirely on your own while I spent most of my time grieving Gina.” His expression tightened slightly. “I forgot other people loved her too.”
“Xeno—”
“I’m serious.”
Xeno stepped closer.
Then, gently, he brushed his fingers against Stanley’s cheekbone.
The familiar touch nearly made Stanley unravel on the spot.
“I’m proud of you,” Xeno said softly.
Stanley stared at him.
“Out of everyone at that hospital,” Xeno continued, “you were the one who realized nobody was stepping forward for Gen. You were the one who brought her home.”
Stanley’s throat tightened.
Meanwhile, Xeno gave a humorless little laugh at himself.
“The most I managed to do back then was handle the legal paperwork and agree to temporary guardianship because I was her uncle,” he admitted quietly. “You were the one actually taking care of her.”
Stanley bit the inside of his lip, the cigarette now forgotten where it had fallen onto the ground.
“I just did what Gina would’ve wanted,” he muttered quietly.
“Even so,” Xeno said, “you were the one taking care of her despite the fact I was her uncle.”
Stanley immediately shook his head. “You were grieving—”
“You were grieving too,” Xeno interrupted softly.
The words felt like a punch to Stanley’s gut.
Xeno breathed out slowly, exhaustion visible in the way his shoulders lowered.
“Gina warned me before that taking care of a baby would be stressful,” he admitted. “She talked about sleepless nights, emotional exhaustion, the possibility of postpartum depression… all of it.” A bitter expression crossed his face. “And despite knowing that, I still let you handle almost everything alone while I buried myself in my own grief.”
“Xeno…”
“I need to apologize for that.”
Before Stanley could respond properly, Xeno suddenly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him tightly.
The warmth nearly made Stanley’s knees give out.
For the first time in two weeks, Xeno felt present again.
Not hollow or distant.
Not wandering through the house like a ghost wearing Xeno’s face.
Stanley let out a shaky breath before leaning into the embrace without resistance..
He missed this. Stanley missed him.
“You were good to her,” Xeno murmured quietly against his shoulder. “Please remember that.”
Stanley closed his eyes tightly. “But what if—”
“If you ever become like your father,” Xeno cut in immediately, voice calm and certain, “then I promise I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.”
Stanley froze slightly.
Not because the words frightened him but because it gave him a relief.
He had to remember Xeno was not like Stanley’s mother.
Xeno said it so matter-of-factly, with the same unwavering certainty he used whenever discussing scientific facts or inevitable outcomes.
There was no hesitation in him.
No fear. Only trust.
Trust that Stanley was not his father. And trust that if Stanley ever began falling apart, Xeno would not abandon him to it.
At that moment, with Xeno holding him firmly in the cold night air, Stanley finally allowed himself to believe that maybe—
maybe everything would eventually be alright.
***
The next morning, Stanley hesitated to even touch Gen.
Every time Xeno tried to hand her over, Stanley instinctively stepped back before he could stop himself.
Xeno frowned but thankfully, he did not push.
Instead, Xeno quietly took over most of Gen’s care throughout the day while Stanley remained nearby like some restless shadow haunting the house.
Watching and hovering, and trying not to look terrified.
Gen noticed too.
At first, whenever Stanley entered the room or came too close, she would glance at him warily from Xeno’s arms, tiny face uncertain in a way that made guilt claw harder at Stanley’s chest.
Still, she did not cry.
As the hours passed, those cautious looks slowly shifted into curiosity instead.
Stanley found himself unconsciously helping from the sidelines.
“Her bottle’s probably too warm,” he would mutter.
Or:
“She likes being held a little higher when she’s sleepy.”
Xeno followed every instruction without complaint.
Honestly, it was almost strange seeing Xeno approach childcare with the same seriousness he gave scientific experiments. Careful observations. Immediate adjustments. Thorough attention to detail.
Stanley nearly laughed when he caught Xeno staring thoughtfully at a diaper like he was solving advanced equations.
In conclusion, Stanley spent the entire day hovering around them while pretending he was not hovering around them.
Then night came as the house had finally grown quiet by the time Xeno finished feeding Gen her evening bottle.
Stanley sat nearby, tense despite himself, watching carefully as Xeno adjusted Gen against his shoulder.
Then Gen looked at him.
A small, lingering glance.
And suddenly, she reached her tiny hands toward Stanley.
Everything inside him stopped.
Stanley felt a painful lump rise into his throat so quickly he almost looked away.
Xeno noticed immediately.
A soft smile crossed his face before he leaned over to kiss Stanley gently on the tip of his nose.
“It seems,” Xeno murmured as he handed Gen over to Stanley, “she wants you.”
At first, Stanley hesitated to take Gen, but one glare at his husband—Xeno would not be as forgiving as earlier if Stanley stepped back.
Carefully and almost fearfully Stanley took Gen into his arms.
This time, she settled immediately against him.
He did not feel fear coming from her, just the warm weight of her tiny body resting trustingly against his shoulder.
Stanley closed his eyes briefly.
And there, holding Gina’s daughter close beneath house lights, he made himself a quiet promise.
I’ll protect you from now on.
Even if someday, I have to protect you from myself.
***
When Stanley graduated from high school, he finally gave Gina permission.
For years, he had stopped her.
Every single time Gina hinted at doing something about his father, Stanley shut it down immediately. She argued with him at first—coldly logical about why his father deserved consequences—but eventually relented because Stanley kept asking her to leave it alone.
Begging, sometimes. Which Gina sometimes hated to see because they both know Stanley Snyder did not beg.
Stanley did not know why he defended his father back then.
Maybe because despite everything, it was still his father. Or maybe because some part of him feared what Gina would do if fully unleashed onto someone she hated.
But graduation changed something.
Perhaps it was the fact he was finally legally an adult.
Or perhaps it was exhaustion after enduring years of bruises, insults, broken furniture, and the constant fear of setting his father off at the wrong moment.
Whatever the reason, Stanley looked at Gina one evening and told her: “Do whatever you want.”
He never forgot the expression that crossed her face afterward.
The woman was delighted, the expression on her face made Stanley realize Gina had been patiently waiting for this exact moment for years.
It bordered on frightening. Like a predator finally being allowed near prey after being held back on a leash for too long.
“…Are you sure?” she asked softly.
Stanley nodded. That was all she needed.
The next day, Stanley’s father was arrested.
Officially, the charges involved corruption within military operations—misuse of government resources, illegal transactions, connections to underground weapons circulation, and participation in unauthorized black-market dealings tied to military supply chains.
It spread quickly.
A scandal large enough to destroy careers.
It’s large enough to erase reputations permanently. And somehow, the investigation already had evidence prepared with terrifying efficiency.
Witnesses, documents, financial trails, and hidden transactions.
Everything surfaced too perfectly. As if someone had spent years carefully collecting information and merely waited for permission to release it.
Stanley never asked Gina how she did it.
He was not sure he wanted to know.
It was fortunate there was no child abuse in his father’s crime. Stanley just doesn’t want to stand in the court and recount the things his father did to him.
A year later, Stanley heard rumors about what happened to his father inside prison.
None of it was pleasant.
Former associates turned against him. Guards looked the other way during violent incidents. Certain inmates apparently knew exactly which buttons to press to make life unbearable for an ex-military officer accused of corruption and trafficking.
His father suffered. Badly.
Stanley never asked whether Gina had involvement in that too. And Gina never mentioned his father again.
As if the matter had already been resolved in her mind.
Gina was not a good person. Stanley could bet with his money that Gina enjoyed torturing Stanley’s father thoroughly.
She could be elegant, intelligent, charming, nurturing—and also terrifyingly ruthless once someone hurt the people she loved.
But somehow, Stanley found he could never fear her completely.
Because Gina loved fiercely.
She loved Xeno.
She loved Gabriel.
And in her own strange way, she loved Stanley too.
Just like Xeno, Gina had become family to him long ago.
And Stanley had already decided years earlier that he would do absolutely anything for his family.