Tear Apart The Family (short story)
“I’m sorry–” Rooklight began.
“Don’t!” Brindleshade snapped. Her claws worked in and out of the ground, and her body–laying in her nest–shook. Rooklight couldn’t tell if it was from rage or sorrow. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” he tried.
Brindleshade hissed, biting her lip hard. “I don’t care what you meant!” The kits, who had been sleeping next to her belly, began to wail. Rooklight reached down, instinctively trying to soothe them. But Brindleshade batted his paws away. “Don’t touch them, and don’t touch me!”
“Just stop!” Brindleshade shut her eyes tightly. “I need to think.”
Rooklight obeyed, and they stayed in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity. In that time, the kits calmed down and began to suckle. Brindleshade watched them with a scornful eye. But it wasn’t them she was disgusted with, it was their father.
“You told me you wanted to be a father.”
“That was true!” Rooklight insisted.
“You told me you love me. Was that true too?”
“But you were never in love with me,” Brindleshade cut off harshly. Her words were whispered, quiet as to not scare the kits again, but her tone was ice and her eyes burned with enough fire that screaming was simply not needed, though Rooklight was sure she was struggling to hold back. “You let me live a lie. You told me you wanted kits, and now that we have them, you tell me that you want to leave?”
Rooklight shook his head vigorously. “I never said that. And I never lied, I swear! I thought that I was in love with you, I really did! If I was lying, then I was lying to myself, or maybe I’m just an idiot who couldn’t realize how I really felt until the ‘perfect life’ was here.” He sighed, wanting to knock his head against a rock. “I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Don’t give me that maggot-dirt!” Brindleshade barred her fangs. “I don’t care that you prefer toms, and I wouldn’t have cared if you had just told me earlier. I might have been upset for a day or two, sure, but I would've lived.” She rose to her paws–the kits had stopped suckling now and continued to sleep–and stared Rooklight down like a predator watching prey. “But it was you who told me we should have kits. Yes, I agreed, but then you decided to tell me that you don’t love me, that you never could love me, when I had your kits after two moons of carrying. Do you think I’m not going to question your motives? Your feelings? Skies, my reality?”
Rooklight resisted the incredibly strong urge to drag his claws across his own pelt. He would deserve the pain. It was bad enough seeing how hurt his mate–ex-mate, was because of him. But he couldn’t even find a way to explain things to her in a way that would make sense. How could he, when they didn’t even make sense to him?
“It was never a lie,” he said again. “I did love you, and I still do as much as I can without being in love. And…I guess–I thought that that feeling was romantic love. There was always something off, but I never thought that it was you or how I feel about you. It...it was–it’s like–it was like something was missing, so I thought that we should have kits, because surely that was the missing piece. In those two moons, I realized how I felt, about toms, about you….I tried to keep it away, to just be your mate and their father, but I…I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep living a lie, not now that I know what I need.”
Brindleshade paused, then sneered. “Of course I would get caught up in the middle of this mess. Why couldn’t I have gotten with a mate that truly loved me?”
“I don’t want to leave,” Rooklight assured her. “You’re right. The kits were my idea, and I won’t just leave you with them now that they’re here. I’ll keep getting minnows for you, I will make up your nest every day, I'll tell them stories and teach them how to fight when you’re too tired. I’ll help you raise them, whether we’re together or not.”
“Not,” Brindleshade grunted. “You will keep bringing us minnows. As much as I hate you right now, I can’t forbid you from seeing your kits, and I can’t keep them from knowing their father. But when you meet them, it will be on my terms, got that? From now on, we are no longer mates. We are not friends, either. You are just the father of my kits, and that’s all you’ll ever be to me.”
Rooklight nodded, fighting against the lump that was growing in his throat. He took a few long breaths, trying to calm himself enough so that he could speak without a sob choking his words. “I understand. Thank you, and I’m sorry for everything….Can I..Can I say good-bye?”
Brindleshade hesitated, then gave him a curt nod.
Breathe…Just breathe..Rooklight told himself, but it was hard to hide the fact that he was tearing his own family apart. He crouched low, belly touching the ground, and pressed his muzzle against every kit, drinking in their sweet, milky scent. “I’m so sorry, little ones. I promise, I will always be here to look after you, even when you can’t see me. Be good to each other, and to your mother.”
He stayed like that for several long heart-beats that felt far too short, before rising numbly and blinking farewell to Brindleshade. Then he padded away, fighting not to turn back and wondering if confessing was worth it.
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--Both of them are partially in the right!
Rooklight genuinely didn't realize that he was gay until his mate was pregnant. He tried to keep it away and to himself, but it was tearing him apart, and he had to tell Brindleshade the truth.
...but in doing so, he basically told Brindle RIGHT AFTER SHE HAD THEIR KITS that he actually wasn't in love with her and never could be. Of course she's going to be upset, especially since she loved him romantically.
--Rooklight is a JackdawXFern kit. He has cerebral palsy!
--Feel free to design and create Brindle's story, since I don't know.
--Also feel free to suggest names for the kits + how much you think there should be.
