(With the kids, a small chapter for them:).)
(OW1 A/N:I don't know whether to be mad or proud because OW4 somehow learned my original style and can copy me so he made this minichapter just to piss me off and it's not working because I'm proud of him-)
It had been one day.
Just one.
But to them—it felt like the sun had stopped showing up.
The house was too quiet. Too clean. Too wrong.
Azura sat curled into a beanbag that didn't feel like a beanbag without her father's hoodie draped over it. She clutched it anyway—sleeves too long, fabric too big, the scent of cinnamon and keyboard clicks still clinging to it like a ghost that hadn't figured out how to leave.
She hadn't said a word since they sedated her. Didn't cry. Didn't scream. Just stared. Like if she blinked, she might forget his face.
Archie, now sixteen, paced the hallway barefoot, over and over again, dragging a Nerf gun behind him like it was a rifle. His blanket—still his battle cape—was fastened around his neck with duct tape. His eyes were red, but he claimed it was just from allergies. He hadn't taken off the duct tape in hours.
Astraeus had built a perimeter. Out of plushies.
Mr. Bun was stationed on the kitchen counter. Twinkle was guarding the front door. The rest were deployed across the living room like soft, squishy sentinels. She held a walkie-talkie in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Every so often, she would whisper into it:
"Status: hostile atmosphere. No sign of Dad. Commence code snuggle."
Achilles had tried to come by. Even offered to stay with them. But they didn't want anyone else. Just him. Just Dad.
They didn't eat breakfast. They tried. But the eggs were too quiet. The pancakes didn't laugh when you dropped syrup. Nobody fought over who got the biggest slice. Azura stared at her plate so long, Astraeus took it away and gave her a juice box instead. Nobody said thank you.
The living room lights were off. Not because they wanted it dark. But because Azrael wasn't there to remind them to switch them on.
Archie finally spoke. Once. He stopped pacing, stood in front of the TV, and said: "We need a plan."
Astraeus raised an eyebrow. "Like what? Sneak into prison? Dig a tunnel? Hack the government?"
He didn't laugh. Not even a snort. He just said: "Something like that."
Azura lifted her head. For the first time. Her voice was paper-thin. "If we break him out... will we get in trouble too?"
Astraeus, seven, going on twenty-nine, nodded solemnly. "Probably."
"Then I want in."
They built a war room in the attic. (Really, it was just a mess of cardboard boxes, walkie-talkies, and scribbled maps.)
Archie drew blueprints of their neighborhood. Astraeus assigned roles like a small general preparing for a siege. Azura sat with a crayon and began copying Gabriel's face from memory onto scrap paper, labeling it: "WANTED: FOR CONFUSING THE UNIVERSE."
They took turns guarding the windows. They didn't know who they were looking for. Maybe the bad guys. Maybe Gabriel. Maybe Dad.
Azura whispered once, while they were half-asleep, curled in the hallway with snacks and sleeping bags:
"Do you think he's scared...?"
Archie didn't answer. He was already pretending to snore.
But Astraeus did. "He's Dad. He doesn't get scared."
Azura was quiet. Then: "I think he does. But he hides it. For us."
In the silence that followed, the three of them curled tighter. The hallway lights buzzed overhead. The air smelled like peanut butter and loneliness.
Outside, night had fallen. And somewhere far, far away— Azrael dreamed of light.
(Started: 04/06/2025 - Finished: 21/06/2025 - Published: 30/06/2025)
(Written By OW1 and OW4 - reviewed by OW3 - Proofread by OW2)