Chapter Text
Kimblee is in his study at home, flipping through various books, trying to find new and exciting ways to make his explosions even better. Pouring over new theories and scientific practices. Looking up specific chemical reactions and thinking how best to turn them into another one of his beautiful displays.
He doesn't hear the door open. He's tuning out all the noise in the house. But he sees Clara J hurry past his peripheral vision, dragging her security blanket behind her. Still shy and dependent, despite all his efforts to fix that. A person is allowed to be who they are, but he simply can't sit by and watch his spawn be seen as weak by society.
The irony being that everyone else sees a shy five-year-old with a security blanket as completely normal.
Clara J pays no mind to whatever her father is thinking. She pops up in front of his desk.
Kimblee knows this routine by now. This child is obsessed with routine. Even the slightest change without her approval makes her little brain short-circuit.
“Oh? And what are you starting off with today, little one?” He asks, feigning interest. Ingrim says it's best to play along with her little games, lest she feel neglected. The last thing Kimblee wants to do is to raise an insecure, weak little child.
Clara J, of course, holds up her copy of The Little Alchemist. She starts her time here with him with that book, and only that book. She'll switch once she's finished. But it always has to be The Little Alchemist to start with. It's her comfort book (the main character reminds her of Kimblee).
“Ah, yes. Your favorite. I should've known,” he now feigns surprise. It elicits a giggle from her. A far cry from the screams of those in anguish. But…still a sound that satisfies a part of himself, deep down.
He watches her for a second more, as she plops down on the soft rug in the middle of the room. Now that he's done playing nice, he can go back to his research.
Time passes. Kimblee isn't paying attention. He's deeply engrossed in his studies. His little doppelganger is busy reading her own books. She jumps up and leaves that one on the floor as she grabs another from the shelf she can reach.
(She didn't always have her own shelf. All the space in the room was dedicated to Kimblee's studies alone. Clara J used to need to climb up a chair to get what she wanted. Kimblee had to change things, lest she interrupt him one more time by working herself up and crying because she suddenly became afraid of heights and couldn't figure out how to get down.)
Even if Kimblee noticed her leaving The Little Alchemist on the floor, he wouldn't say anything. It's like that damn blanket of hers. She takes it everywhere. Not out of the house, thankfully. But the same can't be said for that stupid piece of cloth she clings to, unfortunately.
So her not putting that specific book back on the shelf is normal.
Clara J grabs something else and plops back down on the floor.
Thus being their routine for a while. Both engrossed in their studies, reading in complete silence.
Kimblee doesn't know how much time has passed when he's done researching the material in front of him. He stands up to put those books away and grab others, when he sees Clara J face down in hers, her little body limp.
He walks over with his own books and nudges her with his foot. It would be...an inconvenience if she just up and croaked suddenly. Especially on his watch. Ingrim would never let him live it down.
Luckily for him, the nudging wakes her up from her nap. And earns him the harshest, most disgruntled expression Clara J can muster.
“Don't give me that look. You looked dead,” he says. “If you're that tired, go to your room and sleep.”
He steps away from her and starts putting the books in his arm back.
Clara J sits up and rubs her little eyes. Grey and hooded, just like Kimblee's. She's almost an exact copy of him, much to Ingrim's chagrin. She used to always tell her “I went through all that pain of pushing you out, and there's not even a hint of me in you,” when she was a baby.
She would surely be even more bitter if Clara J's birth wasn't a complete surprise. Fate loves playing tricks on them. Letting Ingrim go through her life as normal, until one day at work she gets the period cramps from hell that just wouldn't stop. Come to find out, once she finally hit her limit and went to the hospital, she'd been growing a new life in her womb without any symptoms, and it wanted out. And it wanted out fast.
Kimblee genuinely thought it was a prank when he got the phone call. But lo and behold, there Ingrim was when he arrived at the hospital. Holding a tiny bundled up human with a tiny scrunched up face and his black hair on her little head.
Neither were prepared, but they kept her. It was their gift to society. They could never be so irresponsible as to put a child with Kimblee's DNA into the system. What if she blew up the orphanage?
Kimblee was also interested in seeing if she'd inherited the unique way his brain works.
…And she was cute. That also helped make the decision.
And here she was five years later, standing up and making her way towards him. He looks down at her. And she looks up at him with the same pair of eyes as his, looking so cute in her frilly maroon dress and matching ribbons (for holding up her little high pigtails, of course).
“Yes? Do you need something? Are you hungry again?”
Instead of answering, she hugs his waist. He sighs. He has better things to do than coddle his child.
“Yes, you're very fond of me. I have a fondness for your presence, as well. But I'm busy right now,” he says, patting her head.
It elicits a whine from her and she hugs tighter. Kimblee sighs. He grabs under her arms and lifts her up to look her in the eyes.
“Little one. I have work to do. I can't play with you. You can stay in here as long as you're quiet and keep to yourself, like you always do. If you want affection, you'll just have to wait until I'm no longer busy, or your mother comes home.”
Clara J doesn't react for a moment, but she finally speaks up.
“.....want Daddy!”
Kimblee doesn't budge. He'd win the “Most Steadfast Amestrian” award, if it existed. Sadly, his requests are always denied.
“I know you 'want Daddy.' But Daddy is busy. You know this. You follow me here every time I come into this room. You know how this goes by now, my little creature of habit. Don't pretend like you can change how I act. You've done enough of that already just with your existence,” he thinks of another argument he can use that will sway her. “Besides, you favor playing by strict routines, and you become upset when they're broken. Isn't that right? This is a routine of ours. You can't break it just because you want to. That would be hypocritical. And hypocrites don't make good girls.”
Clara J looks down, dejected. She didn't understand all that Kimblee said, but none of it sounded good. She's put back down on the floor, and she returns to her book.
Kimblee watches her, then sighs. It's not that he feels bad. She needs to learn this lesson. But Ingrim will scold him if he neglects their daughter too much.
But then he gets an idea.
“Would it please you if I read my book out loud?”
Clara J looks up and nods. She hurries after him over to his desk. She rests her head against his thigh after he sits down, and sucks her thumb. Another habit Kimblee is less-than-fond of.
Kimblee opens one of the books he grabbed. The Handbook of Chemistry and Physics. He flips through the pages to find something he can read to her that isn't a preface or equation.
Aha! Here. The Explanation of Logarithm Tables.
Kimblee starts reading to Clara J from the book. She quickly grows tired of the language she doesn't understand and the lack of colorful characters. She whines and covers her ears, before huffing away back to her own book.
He swears she gets that from Ingrim.
But mission accomplished. She's off his back and he won't be scolded by Ingrim. It's not his fault the material is too advanced for her, after all.
And so they sit in silence together yet again, reading over their specific books. It's only broken once Kimblee stops researching to start dinner.
Because there's a lot of things in life Kimblee isn't keen on doing. Wasting his time. Raising Clara J to be weak and soft.
But eating Ingrim's cooking eclipses both those things entirely. And Clara J agrees wholeheartedly.