Chapter Text
It was literally a day after Pyro informed him that he cancelled the greenhouse project when he called Avid to his office and shoved a toddler into his arms.
Avid blinked and carefully held the small human away from him. “What… what is this?”
“It’s yours,” his dad said coldly. “Since you turned out to be such a failure, a few years ago I got some of your DNA, mixed it with a donor, and placed this thing into a surrogate’s womb.”
“What—”
“It’s been being raised by servants because I don’t have the time, but now… well, it is your child, after all. And you have a bit more free time.” Pyro continued dismissively.
Because you cancelled my project, Avid thought bitterly. And you don’t have to pay me.
“But…” Avid stared at the child. They blinked at them curiously. “I’m not…”
Pyro waved a hand. “If it’ll make you feel better, you’re bringing the child over to me for the afternoon twice a week, just so you don’t raise it to be like you.”
Avid didn’t know what to say. “I… Name? Gender?”
“Avid Doakie IV, naturally. And female.” Pyro said boredly. “Now piss off.”
The usual “thank you” that slipped out when talking to his father forgot itself due to Avid already being angry at him for the project, and now bewildered by this new child.
“Okay,” they whispered as they walked down the stairs. Linda, their dad’s secretary, gave the child a slightly confused look before shrugging and going back to her paperwork. “Sure. A child… that’s fine.”
Avid went back to his place and found several packages at the door, and a confused Henry. He carefully set down the girl on the floor and opened the boxes to find a crib that needed to be assembled, a carton of baby food, and a set of identical dark blue suits with a skirt that would likely fit the girl.
So they were probably supposed to raise her like they were raised.
Henry circled the girl, who looked worried at this new place. Then the girl started to cry, and Henry startled back for a moment before sniffing at her face, wagging his tail.
Avid viewed this scene with uncertainty and a bit of distaste (he was only twenty-two and not a big fan of children) before sighing and getting the materials out.
“Henry, watch the kid,” they called to the dog before searching for a screwdriver to put together the crib.
He was a week into being a parent and it was already hell.
She cried all the time. All day, all night. He didn’t know how often to feed her or change her or even how or where to do that (after looking it up on his phone, he discovered he was supposed to have a highchair and a changing table for that. Figures). He didn’t want this child.
Worst of all, they had to sit there for hours at their father’s place, watching the girl while Pyro went on about how much he hated them.
It was currently midnight, Avid was sitting at the kitchen island, bottle of alcohol beside him, wanting to do anything to not hear the girl’s cries anymore.
Henry padded up beside him, whimpering a little, clearly worried that his new little sister was so upset and that Avid was not asleep like they should be. He was the only one who could occasionally make her stop, but even then it was only temporary.
“Classic,” Avid muttered. “The dog is a better parent than I am.” He tilted his head back and laughed unevenly. “‘Bout as terrible as my own father, huh? God. I’m worthless. I want to throw that kid out the window. How fucked up is that?”
Henry whimpered again as Avid stood up, staggered to the counter, and yanked open one of the drawers. They grabbed a knife—the knife, one they were familiar with—and used it to slit open their wrist with practiced ease, pain blossoming and making their eyes water but drowning out the child’s persistent, pitiful whines.
Avid rinsed out the knife, dropped it in the sink, and rubbed his temples before going to the bathroom to get bandages.
This continued until they met Marmalade.