family of choice

Having stayed at the Donahue house last night, Ted had not been able to make it to the café in time for the morning prep and baking. He was displeased by this; René often showed him tips and tricks, and to be in the kitchen where he could roll doughs and measure ingredients soothed the part of Ted that otherwise never quieted.

There was an art to baking, so precise that one could not simply follow a recipe by rote, but had to master the craft itself. Weather, temperature, and climate influence; to source and buy the best of the best ingredients; to be in full command of one's personal space; to set rigorous rules for cleanliness, both personal and spatial; to be able to multitask and work under exacting pressure.

Missing the morning shift was not the harbinger of the end of days - it was not the first time Fife had told Ted to stay over on a Friday night, because he was comfy and wished to keep using him as a pillow - but it was valuable time wasted. As soon as was socially acceptable, Ted had risen, dressed, and readied himself, foregoing breakfast with the intent of eating at the café.

Fife was off to do his own thing at any rate, and never questioned why, when, or how much Ted ate - a rather sloppy and trusting habit, Ted thought. He regularly made note of Fife's eating patterns, to ensure his Soulmate was eating a balanced and varied diet often enough. Fife was too small and delicate for his own good. Memories of neat little teeth sinking into Ted's wrist rose as he clambered off of the subway into Zone C. His fingers ran over the area ponderously.

Honey met him in the alleyway off of the main shopping street. The honey badger had something in its mouth, which it was violently shredding, throwing itself from side to side as if it were having a fit. Ted paused, knelt down, and clamped his hand down, forcing all of his weight onto the slippery creature's back. There was a delayed jolt of pain in his own spine. Ted ignored it as the Familiar twisted about in its own skin, snarling. It locked scrabbling claws into Ted's forearm, digging sharp, bloody furrows.

Drawing back his fist, Ted brought it down against the side of the badger's head with skull-cracking force and, while he was stunned, reached out, pried open the jaws, and retrieved...

Ah. The disposable camera that Ted had been planning to use, to take promotional pictures of the café for the local bulletin board. He was submitting a suggestion anonymously that would put Renny & Renard's in the running for a small business award and wanted to encourage voting. He'd also wanted to take pictures of the family. Megumi was growing too fast now, every day larger and stronger, just like her mother was.

Ted shook his head to clear his vision, ears noting the grating hsssss of his own skull welding back together. Once the black clouds dispersed and his balance seemed restored, Ted stood, raising his healed forearm to his mouth to remove the gritty, dirty evidence from sight. When he was done, he spat the remnants onto the floor. Honey was back up and fine as always, already scrounging around the bins for the next thing to destroy.

"House 2A, the back porch, check it," Ted said, and Honey looked up, eyes shifting from umber to emerald and back again. It made a pleased, snapping sound, and turned to waddle off.

Ted turned the camera over in his hands, and then dumped in into the trash can. What a waste.

Still, he smoothed himself over to ensure he was presentable and then walked towards the side door of the café, which was used for the family and for deliveries. Even though he'd been shown where the spare keys were on numerous occasions, and Megan had ensured he had a copy on him, in case of emergencies, Ted showed his favour by knocking thrice, a familiar pattern, du-du-dam, and then eased the door into the staff hallway - the area that separated the store from the private living area - open. Bright, airy, and smelling of rich, sweet, fresh baked pastries. Ted stepped inside and lingered on the entrance mat, clicking the door shut behind him. He tilted his head. René, in the bakery kitchen. Megan and Megumi?

"Good morning," he called out, voice deep and accent heavy. It did not matter. He knew that Megan had had one once, too - even if she could not recall it. After all, her twin sister had, before she'd lost her words.

It had been a busy day, and it wasn't even 10 o'clock yet. Megumi had recently learned how to climb out of her cot, she had also learned how to run and shake violently at the baby gates if her parents didn't appear immediately to feed or coddle her.

And so, Megan had woken with a headache at 5 am to the sound of a baby gate crashing down the stairs. With a start of terror, she leapt out from under the covers and bolted for the bedroom door of the little flat she shared with her husband.

"It's okay!" She heard him yell from the downstairs hall that joined the flat to the café downstairs. "I've got her."

René was standing halfway up the stairs, shoulder braced against the wall and little 20-month-old Megumi in his arms. The baby gate had clattered to the ground by the back door. Megumi grumbled but settled against her father's chest as he made his way the rest of the way up the stairs to where Megan was standing. As he drew nearer Megan noticed the flour in his hair and up his arms, and she couldn't hold back a smile, it was too easy to imagine how he'd dropped whatever he'd been doing in the morning prep to rush out and rescue his daughter before she became a victim of her own rebellious nature.

He handed her over to Megan, and as he did he let the back of their hands brush, sending a soothing wave of reassurance.

After that, René had to return to the morning prep, and Megumi would not settle, meaning Megan had to down two strong painkillers and get on with the morning routine. Changing, feeding, and playing. René hummed as he worked, and even though there were many doors between them, Megan could hear the soothing melody in her head, and it helped to keep her calm and focused.

Lately, she'd been suffering from headaches a lot, mostly early in the morning when she first woke up. The doctor told her it was likely due to a lack of sleep and she should try to get more of it, well, that was easy for him to say while she was at home with a fast approaching terrible two-year-old.

It was a relief when she heard the back door open at nine o'clock, accompanied by Theodore's deep voice.

She heard René downstairs and felt his words echoing in her own head so that she could hear their conversation clearly.

"I'm okay for now Theo. I think Megan might need a hand with little Megumi though. Can I call you down just before the lunch rush hits?

Megan's headache was already starting to fade, and she tried to tell René that she was fine. But he pushed back lightly, using the bond to soothe her throbbing head as much as he could.

You need some rest. He told her, silently now, words that Theo could not hear. Your head is still hurting, I can feel it. Let Theo take Megumi for a little bit, get some water and sit down for a moment. We don't want the both of us to pass out from a migraine again, do we? She felt him grin. Particularly while I'm in a piping hot kitchen.

There was a return call from the bakery kitchen, and Ted moved towards it, pushing open the swinging door and peering inside. René was currently kneading dough for what Ted assumed would be a batch of his famous cranberry and orange rolls.

Despite being streaked with flower and flushed from the heat, the man seemed as in control of his station as ever, and turned to smile at Ted.

"Would you like some help?" Ted asked, forcing himself to use an adjusted vocabulary so that his family of choice would feel he fit more closely to their idea of him - foreign orphan, a troubled home life with his adopted family, largely harmless. A bit of an oaf, but well-meaning and passionate about baking. Polite, and good with even the most rambunctious of small children.

"I'm okay for now Theo. I think Megan might need a hand with little Megumi though. Can I call you down just before the lunch rush hits?"

Knowing that the man would be sending a heads up to his wife so that she would not be surprised by his sudden appearance, Ted gave a small nod. "Of course," he said, before stepping back out and letting the door swing softly shut again.

Walking to the bottom of the stairs up into the apartment above, Ted toed off his shoes and clambered the stairs, palm smoothing over his knitted green sweater vest - the one the closest match to Fife's eyes - as he went. For all that Fife was observationally brilliant with outsiders and highly attuned to his family's needs, he seemed to pay little mind to Ted, beyond necessity. The ease of many years of familiarity, Ted assumed. This seemed the likely cause as to why Fife had never noted - or indeed commented on - Ted's habit of wearing at least a sliver of emerald green in every outfit. Even at school.

He enjoyed the prospect of people knowing he accepted Fife's ownership of his person, even if his Soulmate was too swept away in other things to notice. More likely, Ted thought, he'd registered it once as a point of interest as a child and then dismissed it. The thought of such blind acceptance pleased Ted. As if Fife simply accepted the ownership as fact.

At the top of the stairs, he opened the gate and wandered inside, across the landing to the family living room. He didn't call out, instead knocking a soft beat against the door, which stood ajar. He was aware that Megan had been struggling with headaches recently (his fingers ran over the shoulder bag he carried, with the gift he had prepared for her with this in mind), and that Megumi was liable to clamber up and fuss as soon as there was any excitement at all.

Edging around the door to peer inside, he said quietly, "Megan? René said you might need a hand with Megumi. Make I come in?"

Theo was on his way, Megan knew because René told her, but she also still appreciated the sweet way that he knocked at the door to the apartment first.

“Megan? René said you might need a hand with Megumi. Make I come in?”

“Of course, Theo, come in, make yourself at home.” She was happy to welcome the large, tall, and slightly awkward boy into her home. He had been a friend of the family for as long as she and René had been a family, and it was impossible to think of him as anything other than a welcome addition on the days he was able to visit.

Balancing baby Megumi on her hip, she came to greet him.

“She’s running now.” Megan told him, hooking Megumi under the arms so she could hand her over. “She kicks too, but don’t worry it’s not that hard.” She pressed a kiss to her daughter’s head. “And you are such a fan of your big brother Theo aren’t you?”

Megumi was already making grabby hands towards Theo, her large hazel eyes sparkling eagerly.

“Tho! Tho!” She chanted.

Once Theo had taken Megumi, Megan led the way into the apartment. It wasn’t big or fancy, in fact there was an awful lot of laundry hanging around that she needed to get to, but it was home and every part of it was decorated accordingly.

Photos of her and René’s wedding sat on the side table, along with a picture of a cherub-faced 6 month old Megumi. There were little nick nacks dotted about, cook books, baking books, all intermixed with their daughter’s various sticker and picture books.

“Sorry about the mess.” She always apologised for it whenever there was anybody in the house, and yet it never seemed to motivate her to tidy with any sense of urgency. “I’ve been a bit under the weather the last couple of months, and with Megumi running around it’s difficult to stay on top of things.”

She pushed some things off the sofa, making space for Theo to sit if he wanted. Alternatively, she also cleared some room on the floor where Megumi’s toys were scattered about, just in case he wanted to play with her.

Megumi had hooked her entire hand around one of Theo’s fingers and was currently gnawing on it like a chew toy. Megan rolled her eyes, but there was an affectionate smile in place. “Tell her to stop if it’s bothering you, and if she doesn’t listen then banish the little cretin to the floor.”

“No!” Megumi howled in protest, pouting. “I stay with Tho!”

The response came from he direction of the kitchen.

“Of course, Theo, come in, make yourself at home.”

He entered, giving a cursory glance around at the busy family home - disorganised as usual, and somehow all the more welcoming for it, despite Ted's inherent dislike of mess - before his eyes settled on Megan. Red-haired, freckled, and tired, she balanced her ever-energetic daughter on her hip as she came to greet him.

“She’s running now. She kicks too, but don’t worry it’s not that hard,” Megan said, lifting Megumi by the armpits and kissing her on the head before holding her out to Ted. “And you are such a fan of your big brother Theo aren’t you?”

"Tho! Tho!" Baby Megumi agreed.

Ted reached out for her, pulling the soft, strong-willed girl to his chest. She would change the world, he thought, looking into her bold brown eyes. There was no doubt of it. He allowed that usual sense of conviction and peace that Megumi brought to wash over him, softening his features. Ted bounced the toddler in just the way that would make her squeal and giggle, and followed Megan deeper into her warm, cluttered nest.

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve been a bit under the weather the last couple of months, and with Megumi running around it’s difficult to stay on top of things.”

"Your health still has not improved," Ted said quietly, umber eyes lifting to track Megan as she cleared a spot on the couch. It wasn't a question; he knew by looking at her that it was true. He'd known it since his last visit, the Saturday before Golden Week. There was a subtle but undeniable pall to her features that reminded Ted, deeply and intrinsically, of the Facility.

A smell of sickly breath. Old blood. Bleach. Body fluids. There was a particular flavour to the memory, which linked to Fading Familiars and drawn-out sickness. Children bloated and grey, or wasting away to skeletons. Aches, lack of appetite, tremors, seizures, collapses. Migraines. He wondered if there was a link of some kind, to Megan's health... and to what she'd been through, under the care of the Mothers and Fathers.

He could not say, of course. That was before his time. She'd left before he'd arrived. It was only Flower who had been left behind, by then. Flower and her limited words.

“Tell her to stop if it’s bothering you, and if she doesn’t listen then banish the little cretin to the floor.”

Megan interjected as Ted took the proffered seat. Megumi, who'd been gnawing intently on Ted's finger with sharp, piercing teeth (she had not quite managed to break the skin, but soon she would get there, he thought with patience and thrumming satisfaction), pulled away to wail at her mother.

“No! I stay with Tho!”

Pleased by her favour, Ted lifted the little girl clear into the air, and tipped her upside down, a gentle swing that he knew would make her shriek with delight. He did this twice more, before bringing her back down, red-faced and wild-haired, so she could be sat on his knee.

Distracting the girl with bounces, and balancing her with one hand, he reached around for his bag and dug inside. He retrieved a small paper bag - inside of which was a small glass pot of tiger balm to soothe tension from her temples, jaw and neck, and a lavender-scented candle, for relaxation. "A token for you from Golden Week," he lied, holding out the bag for her to take, hidden behind Megumi's back, so she would not get jealous. "You must rest more. Perhaps once or twice a week, I can watch Megumi, so you both can take time off." He paused and considered. "I know I am young, but you are like family."

It was a lie; in Ted's mind, they were not merely like family; they were family. All that he needed, at any rate.

With a small incline of his head, he signaled to the bag, shifting to tickle Megumi below her arms. "The balm, my birth mother used something like it. She suffered fatigue and chronic pain." It was true; Ted recalled the dark outline of a woman, bedbound and crippled with an invisible illness. He recalled applying the strong, spice-scented balm to her forehead, neck, and shoulders. The smell of camphor and menthol evoked a deeply ponderous state in Ted, even now. It was the smell he most associated with winter, cold, and motherhood. The thought of Megan using the ointment too pleased him.

Lifting Megumi high into the air, he brought his face to her belly and blew a raspberry through the material of her dress. "You are too big," he said seriously, pulling her away. "You must stop growing." To impress this point upon her, he reeled her in for another noisy raspberry.

He did not want her to grow anymore, as much as he knew she was going to grow into a bright and capable woman. It was a very contradictory thought.

Megumi was thrilled by Theo’s attention, giggling and howling with toddler levels of enjoyment as he bounced her along when they walked.

“Your health still has not improved."

Sweet kid, as considerate as ever.

Megan laughed. “Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far. It’s not really my health, I just feel a bit run down, like a cold or something like that. We’ve been so busy since the New Year, I’m probably just a bit run off my feet.” She really didn’t want Theo to worry, especially because this was most likely something that would pass in the next week or so.

Theo had chosen to take the seat, and Megumi didn’t blame him. She watched for a moment as Theo spun Megumi around, distracting her from her finger chewing for a little while.

Practically balancing Megumi on one hand, Ted reached around and pulled out a small paper bag from his satchel. Curious, Megan flushed as he held it out towards her. “A token for you from Golden Week.”

“Oh, Theo you didn’t have to do that.” She opened up the bag to find a rather nice glass pot of tiger balm.

“You must rest more. Perhaps once or twice a week, I can watch Megumi, so you both can take time off. I know I am young, but you are like family.”

He really was such a sweet boy. Sitting down next to him on the sofa, Megan pressed a soft kiss to his temple, the same sort of kiss she would have given Megumi. “Please don’t worry yourself about us. You have school and things like that to focus on, be young and enjoy your life. We are always delighted to see you and there will never be a time that you aren’t welcome here. But we’ll be fine.”

When she was Theo’s age her own family had been awful, and she’d wanted nothing more than a safe place to get away from them. She had no idea what Theo’s home life was like, but the poor boy clearly needed somewhere safe where he could unwind and find purpose, and she was so happy that she and René could provide that.

“I’ll try to take better care of myself though.”

Theo inclined his head towards the bottle. “The balm, my birth mother used something like it. She suffered fatigue and chronic pain.”

It was always an honour when Theo chose to tell them anything about his birth family, whether they were the ones he was still with or not.

“Well, thank you Theo. I will put it to good use.”

She waited a little longer, watching Theo blow raspberries into Megumi’s tummy and coo at her softly.

“If it’s okay with you, I might go and get some rest.” Megan thought sadly of René downstairs, fighting hard to serve tables and bake all by himself while she not only fed a nasty headache into him, but also deprived him of her own assistance, and that of their best little protegé. But her husband was right, if she let the headache get worse then it would only hinder him.

She waited for Ted’s conformation, before stroking a motherly hand through his hair. “Thank you Theo. You really are a gift of the gods to us.”