[AN: Sorry for taking WAY too long to get to this. My life is chaos with a side-trip to bedlam]

It was dark, and Angus was scared. He could smell the reek of ammonia and felt a chill that should not have come with the heavy blankets weighing him down. He lay stock still, trying to make the shape of something familiar out of the shadows.

If he moved, if he made a sound, if he cried… he would be sent to the Quiet Room. Angus strained his ears for the faintest creak of bedsprings, tried to find shadows in the darkness that meant that one of the other boys was taking aim.

Carefully, he slid one hand up to grab his pillow. If he could get it before he heard the slide of pyjama pants, he could curl up completely under the shield of its bulk and let the stream pool around him. He’d get in trouble for the pool unless he stayed under the pillow until dawn.

He hated that. He hated hardly being able to breathe for the stench and for the claustrophobic space under the pillow and the faint mildew stink of the pillow stuffing. It always felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Angus barely started to bring his feet up when a weight dropped on the bed. There was nothing like it in his memory, and he remembered a lot of horrible things. He screamed without thinking about it. Cringed and held his breath as the tears began to sting. He didn’t want to go into the Quiet Room! He hadn’t done anything wrong!

Instead of the ungentle footfalls of Nurse Stronginthearm, he heard a pattering of footfalls and a snap as lights came on. This was… this was not the orphanage. The weight on his bed was one of the household cats, currently kneading the comforter and glaring at Angus as if he was the asshole.

There was a blur in the doorway. The colours were all wrong for the orphanage. Angus tightened up in his huddle and at least tried to keep it to a whimper.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” singsonged the blur with golden hair. “You got your glasses right here, sweetie. Here they are…” Dusky brown hands offered his familiar frames.

Angus’ hand shook as he took them, and he couldn’t stop breathing hard as the blur resolved into one of his adopted dads. Mr Taako.

“…’m sorry sir…”

“It’s okay, pumpkin, nightmares in a new place are natural. You want me to sit with you?”

The cat was still treadling the comforter. It was now concentrating on its biscuits and not getting involved in the drama. Another one jumped up and the two felines wrestled with each other in a non-serious manner.

“…’es please,” Angus managed.

Taako sat on the bed, offering his presence as comfort. “I lost count of the nightmares I had whenever I was in a new place,” he said. “It was always the same kind’a dream. I was trapped in the worst place I’d ever been in before.”

Oh. Oh that was… way too close to the bone. He said, “You too?”

“Absolutely. Kind’a a handful of assholes after Saint Vingo’s, I gotta tell ya. After I lived through that one, everywhere else was a field of daisies.” He reached to touch Angus’ hair, but stopped when Angus flinched away. His hand hovered in the air for a couple of seconds but lit once more in his lap. “You were back in the bad place again, weren’t’cha?”

Angus nodded.

“Okay. Okay. Did you ever get into trouble for snapping your fingers?”

“…dunno how to do that, sir…”

Mr Taako showed him, demonstrating and always asking to touch before he did so. He remembered so many bad places. He knew what they could do to a kid. He knew that healing wasn’t easy. He knew that even the smallest things could cause abject terror at a moment’s notice.

“One snap is a little sound,” said Mr Taako. “They can’t track one snap. And it kind’a puts off any targeters, y’know. They think you got something on ‘em.” Mr Taako had a very knowing smirk, “I can teach you a li’l bit of my tricks, too. Give you an edge.”

One of the cats investigated Angus’ lap. It was warm and soft and friendly. The world seemed safer already, especially after he learned how to snap the lights on at a moment’s notice. Most especially after he learned that the Casa de Taako cats were the friendliest creatures in Faerun.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 1]

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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 45 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter - Young Angus takes care of a sick Taako… for a change

[AN: First, I’d like to apologise for taking so dang long with this. It’s been a busy week]

Angus shivered in his bed and dreaded opening his eyes. He was cold and soaked and terrified that, if he could breathe in through his nose, he would smell someone else’s pee. It certainly felt like he was huddled in a bunch of lumps that wanted to dig holes in his skin.

He could hear jingling jewellery and someone singing. “Good morning, starshine, the earth says ‘hello’… you twinkle above…” the singer trailed off, and a too-hot hand seared into Angus’ forehead. “You’re not okay, little man.”

The shadow above him glittered and gleamed. He managed to focus on golden hair and dusky skin that was mottled like a fawn and sprinkled with gold. He wasn’t in the orphanage any more, but it sure felt like he was in an orphanage bed. “…hurts,” he croaked.

“Hmm…” said Papa, who scooped him out of bed and into a thick, fluffy dressing gown. “Looks like Summerfaire Sniffles, there, buddy. Caught something from someone durin’ the holiday.” Papa was comfortingly warm, whilst Angus felt like his entire body was a loose sack full of snot.

“…’m sorry, papa…”

“Not your fault, hon. ‘S why the schools give people a whole month off after Summerfaire. Get all the viruses outta the system before they can recirculate.”

“…’r you mad at me?”

“Naw… It’s nothing some soup won’t cure. Cream of chicken soup with ginger, garlic, and all the fixings. All your favourite ingredients.”

“…’m n’t h'ngry…”

Papa cooed and juggled him around as his Mage Hands filled a hot water bottle and wrapped it up. “We’ll find something to tempt those tastebuds later on, punkin. Anything you need, you’re getting. Just say the word.”

“…cuddl’s…”

“M’kay,” Papa curled up with him, the hot water bottle, and a lot of blankets (the cats came to nest on them later) on the big cuddle couch and turned the fantasy television on to something that required no brainpower to appreciate.

Dad looked in on them in an hour or two. “Everything all right, babe?”

“Summerfaire Sniffles,” said Papa. “Some fantasy tylenol, a lot of cuddles, and some chicken soup and we’ll be fine.”

Dad’s touch was a little chilly, but welcome all the same. “Nothing to worry about,” he said.

When he said it, you could be sure.

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If there was anything Kravitz was certain of, it was two things. He loved Taako with a power beyond his comprehension… and he didn’t want to become his own father. Standing over the sleeping forms of his husband and adopted son just… cemented that into his soul.

He just had very few ideas how to do that. As in, at all. 

Kravitz had been dead for at least two thousand years, and he’d come from a fairly xenophobic culture to begin with. He only had the shakiest knowledge concerning Elves. For two thousand years, he’d only ever met individuals with a life expectancy of only a few more minutes past their introductions.

He hadn’t had to worry about caring for anyone for so long, that he had almost forgotten how to do it at all. Loving Taako was easy. That Elf had made Kravitz do more than feel alive. Taako could talk about what made him happy.

Angus, sweet little half-Elf still scared of speaking his mind… was not that comfortable with making his wants known.

Kravitz decided that he was willing to do anything to help his little family, so he went looking for something to give him more than a little bit of a clue. Which was what had him in one of the greater libraries still existent in Faerun, following the Hunger War.

He found a book, and judged it by the cover, which had How to Care for Elves on there in large, friendly letters. He purchased a copy and immediately portalled back to the home he shared with husband and child and got to studying.

Elves have good reason to be paranoid. Large portions of their history include persecution from other races. Do not allow your Elf to be startled by Humans, Orcs, Dragonborn, Dwarves or Gnomes.

Okay. That explained Taako’s rule of Call First. Kravitz skipped ahead to the cookery section, Popular Elven Comforts. There were some involved recipes in there, true, but the book said Elves had the time to complicate literally everything they did.

The things I do for love…

*

Taako stretched and yawned and smooched his little boy on the forehead. Something delicious was cooking and Taako let his nose lead him to…

Kravitz, with a plethora of scientific-looking equipment, measuring herbs against carob seeds.

It was so adorable that Taako had to watch him for a while. Finally, when Krav stopped to stretch his back and wipe his brow, he said, “What’cha doin’ there, handsome?”

“Um. Showing you I care?” He failed at hiding a thick book under a tea towel. “You already have a secure cote or five and all the safety you could eat, so…” He gestured at some of the completed dishes. “I thought I’d try for some proper Elven nutrition.”

Taako couldn’t not kiss him. Cooking, love, and a certain amount of exertion had made his man nice and warm. His kisses were always sweet. “Babe,” he said, “You know I love you…”

“But…” Kravitz prompted.

“What fucking book were you even reading?” Taako had to giggle. “Half of this shit is festival food, and the other half are jokes we played on the Humanmen, back in the day.” He found the book. “Oh boy.” Flip, flip, flip… “Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy howdy…”

“Everything he knew was wrong?”

“Ninety percent,” said Taako. “That, and I’m literally from a different planet. Most of this don’t even fuckin’ count.”

Angus stumbled into the kitchen, following his nose. “Wow, sir. This is an amazing spread.”

“Everything sweet has been sweetened with honey or maple syrup,” said Kravitz. “I at least knew better than to use sugar.”

Taako still flipped through the pages. “You got a head start on this dude, Bone Daddy.”

Angus had selected something from the ‘joke’ section of the menu. He had half his little mouth full and was busily chewing. “I like this one, sir,” he managed.

“I know five ways to make it much quicker,” said Taako. “I’ll teach you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dove.”

“For the rest of today, though… I gotta show this book to Lup and Barold.” Of course he had to. They hadn’t had a decent Family Roast sesh in years.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]

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It had taken Angus an entire year to talk freely to his dads. When he did, he expressed his worries about his one friend in the entire, dingy, dismal, depressing grey coldhouse that was the orphanage.

Her name was Agatha Tremaine and she was maybe a year older than him. She smuggled the outdoors inside for Angus, much to the horror of the nurses and the consternation of Mr Thud. They never could prove that she was the source of dandelion flowers, stick insects, or grasshoppers that managed to turn up in Angus McDonald’s presence and he never ratted her out, no matter how much time they made him sit in the Quiet Room.

This caused Papa some immediate concern, and the rest of the family some Stone calls. There were a lot of Stone calls.

There were more than a few moments when Angus feared he had done something wrong. A feeling that was quickly dispelled by one or more of his new family scooping him up into a reassuring hug.

Then came the Trip.

Papa and Dad and Aunty Lup and Uncle Barry all piled into the cart with him and Garyl took them on a whirlwind trip. But they weren’t taking a trip to Neverwinter.

Angus fought past his elective muteness. “Sirs. This isn’t the way to the orphanage…” He pointed the way they should have been going. “We’re headed the wrong way.”

“Right and wrong, baby,” said Papa. He wrapped an arm and part of hus ruiana around Angus. “Yes, this is not the way to the orphanage. But no, we are not headed the wrong way.”

“This is the way to the Aunties Fangbattles’ place…” said Angus.

“Correct again, little buddy,” said Dad.

“You said we were going to see Agatha.” Just like that, the pieces slotted into a bigger picture. “Did Agatha get adopted by my Aunties?”

Uncle Barry handed Aunty Lup five gold. She laughed and said, “I knew you were a smart little cookie, kiddo. You got it in one.”

The Aunties Fangbattle - also known as Team Sweet Flips - had a little country cottage with a neat little garden that always seemed to be full of flowers. Angus liked the times he got to stay with them because he could help out with the chickens and play with the butterflies and birds that were too bold to fly away from his careful touch. They always had warm bread or a gooey sweet pie fresh out of the oven.

This time, the cottage looked quiet and still. Even the birds refused to coo or call from the branches of the fruit trees. No butterflies spread their wings in the sunshine. Therefore he feared knocking on the door.

Dad did it instead.

Aunt Killian opened the door. “Oh great. You’re here.” She turned and called, “Agatha…”

There she was. Hiding under the table and clinging to furniture legs like a prisoner at the bars.

Angus was over there before he could blink. “Hey, remember me?”

Her dark eyes were fearful. “Angus? They said you died.”

He knew who ‘they’ were. The bigger kids. The mean ones. “You know they lie.”

She crawled out to hold him, and this was the first time Angus remembered being bigger than her. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I’m glad you got a family,” said Angus.

“Are you kidding?” she whispered, “That’s an Orc and a Dragonborn. They’d eat me if I fatten up…”

Angus detected the not-so-subtle influence of Them again. He joined her under the table and had a hushed conversation while the grownups talked grownup things literally over their heads.

“They’re careful with you, aren’t they?” he asked. “They’re not rough or mean.”

She had to agree.

“They’re kind, right? They try to make things right by you.”

Another nod.

“They keep making better food so you can have enough to eat?”

“They wanna fatten me up…”

Angus had to think his way around that one. “You know… if you’re strong, you can run off if they start measuring you for a basting pan.”

She snorted at that one. “I gotta admit their pies smell delicious.”

“So have some, pumpkin,” Papa had a small plate with a slice of rich, glistening pie and a fork. “This one’s one of my recipes, so you know it’s great.”

“Yeah, and it’s my herb and spice mix that makes it even better,” said Aunt Carey.

“Excuse your scaley ass, it’s the gravy recipe I got from my mother,” objected Aunt Killian.

Angus giggled. “Anyway. If they’re going to eat any kids, they’d be after my marbled flesh, not yours.”

Agatha relented, and started to eat without fear.

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Papa was all dressed up fancy. So was Dad. Angus couldn’t explain why this worried him, but the worry lay trembling under his heart nevertheless.

“It’s just tonight,” Papa was saying as he braided his hair. “There was quite the brawl to babysit you while your Dad and I are out.”

“Can’t I come?”

Papa sighed. “Baby… You know we love you. It’s just… We need to re-enforce our bonds with each other. A night where neither of us can pay all of our attention to each other.”

Angus knew about this. Sometimes, parents needed one night where they didn’t have to be parents. “And I’m not going back to the orphanage.”

“Hell, no, Ango. Naw. You got your Uncle and Aunty Bluejeans coming down, then there’s the Fangbattle Aunts and Uncle Magnus.”

Uncle Magnus almost always bought Mitzy with him. That sounded like it could be fun.

“All of them at once?”

“It was better than holding a raffle for the privilege of your company.” Papa pinned up his hair. “Dad and I have our Stones, and if you need us, we’re only a call away. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

It was easy to believe when they were home. Less so when they weren’t around. He had three Aunts and two Uncles watching over him and Mitzy to play with and that was enough to keep him distracted for a good two hours.

The third hour, when he and his Aunts and Uncles were cooking together, was when it hit him like a bully twice his weight class. Aunty Lup had her eyes the wrong way around. Everything was wrong. Everything was going wrong.

*

The call came before the mains, and they picked up instantly.

“Ango needs us?” came out of their mouths in stereo.

Taako dropped some gemstones on the table and Krav tore them a portal all the way back to their home.

Dinner didn’t matter. The night out was less important than their kid. Taako rolled badly on passing through the Astral plane on the way, but that didn’t matter either. He rolled and recovered before Krav could even offer a hand.

“Daddy! Papa!”

They landed on him in a hug, Taako already purring.

“It’s okay,” soothed Krav. “You’e okay.”

“I didn’t wanna wreck your night. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you needed us, kiddo. We can have a night out anytime.”

Lup, hovering nearby, said, “He called me ‘Papa’ like twice and then freaked out. I’m not upset about the confusion, sweetie, I promise. You’re okay.”

“I thought… I thought… I thought you were never coming back an’ I kept seeing you outta the corner of my eye an’ it was only Aunty Lup an’…”

He and Krav covered him in kisses. “It’s okay. We’re here, now,” they said, wrapping their little boy up in their arms.

They never saw their show, and their dinner was what the family had cooked up that night. They watched one amongst many of their collection of their moving scrolls.

The important part was that Ango had his family. That he knew they would be coming back. That he could be braver next time.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]

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