Half a Life

dragonfics:

Happy Birthday @paintys-actual-art! Since you’re such a slut for Spicyhoney, I wrote you some! Please enjoy this. It’s like, so fluffy. 100% fluff. No sad stuff here.

I’m lying, obviously. Warnings are in the tags.

~Beneath the cut~

---

“look, stretch, he doesn’ wanna
see ya. i think ya should just leave.”

Edge exhaled sharply, closing his
book and placing it on his desk. He’d been trying to tune out the voices
downstairs, but had met with little success. Silently rising from his seat, he
pulled on his jacket and made for his bedroom door.

“red, please, i—i just need to talk to him. just for five minutes.”
Stretch’s desperate plea left a gaping hole inside Edge, and he squeezed his
eyes shut. You can do this, he
assured himself. He’s hurt you more times
than you can count. Just say the word. Just tell him you don’t want him here.

“ye’ve screwed ‘im over one too
many times,” came Red’s frustrated sigh. “ya don’t get five minutes.”

Edge’s hand shook where it
hovered over the doorknob. Deep breath. He
turned it slowly, creeping toward the stairs. A muffled sob from Stretch halted
him, and he swallowed, willing himself
not to let it affect him.

“red, please—”

“leave, stretch.”

“Red,” Edge called, hearing the defeat
in his own voice. Red’s gaze snapped up to him, eye sockets going wide.

“boss? ya don’ need ta see this,
i was just tellin’ ‘im ta leave—”

“Let him in.”

The shock on Red’s face quickly
morphed into frustration, and he clenched his teeth. “paps. ya can’t keep
givin’ ‘im second chances. he’s not—”

“I wasn’t aware you controlled my
decisions, brother,” Edge said coldly, descending the remainder of the stairs.
Red scowled, but held his silence. Tell
me to stop, Red. Tell me that I’m being irrational—an idiot. Don’t let me do
this. When Edge reached the door, his soul seemed to jar in his chest
at the sight of Stretch. He looked pale – even for a skeleton – a sallow tinge
to his cheekbones. Weariness was set in his features, and there was a
downtrodden slump to his shoulders.

Edge already knew there was no
way he’d be able to turn him away—no matter what Stretch asked of him. “What do you want?” he asked, already feeling exhausted.

“edge…” The relief in Stretch’s
tone was tainted by something fearful. His eyes darted to Red, and he took a
shaky breath. “c-can we talk in private?”

“Whatever you have to say, you
can say it in front of my brother—now tell me what you want before I slam this
door.” Rage coursed Edge’s entire body, but he knew the shake of his clenched
fist wasn’t just a product of anger. Seeing Stretch like this—so pathetic and
desperate—kindled a deep, consuming pity within him.

“can—can i come in?” Stretch had
his arms wrapped around himself, despite the warm summer air.

“if ye’ve got somethin’ ta say,
spit it out,” Red growled, no longer bothering to censor his anger. Stretch
visibly flinched at his words, curling in on himself and peering at Edge
anxiously.

“Well?” Edge raised a brow bone,
struggling to withhold his own frustration.

“i’m—i…” Stretch’s breath
hitched, and tears began to form at his eye sockets. Shaking his head, he took
a shuddering breath, before lifting his hoodie to expose his ribcage.

Edge narrowed his eye sockets, at
first confused by the action. But then…

“yer… pregnant?” All previous rage had left Red’s tone entirely, nothing
but awe in its place. Edge was completely speechless, and he had to remind
himself to breathe as he stared at the centre of Stretch’s ribcage. Within his
own golden soul, a tiny souling hovered, barely the size of a button.

It was purple.

“It’s not mine.” Edge tore his
eyes away from the souling to look Stretch in the eye, and immediately wished
he hadn’t. He wanted to feel angry. He wanted to hate Stretch. No doubt the souling was at least a month old—he and
Stretch had only broken up two weeks ago.

But the look on Stretch’s face
extinguished any amount of anger Edge could muster. He looked broken. “razz…” Stretch choked on a sob,
lifting a trembling hand to wipe the tears off his cheekbones. “razz wants me
to get rid of it. he said i should… t-terminate it. he said that he would—that
he would do it for me if i didn’t—” Breaking off with a gasp, Stretch began to
cry. He hugged himself, shaking violently as tears fell freely from his sockets.

And Edge couldn’t take it.

Without a second thought, he
rushed forward, pulling Stretch against his chest, and holding him there. “You
don’t have to do that,” he whispered. “I won’t let him hurt you, it’s alright.”

Stretch’s chest heaved in short
gasps as he clung to Edge desperately. “i c-can’t take care of a—of a baby by
myself,” he sobbed. “i’m not—i won’t be a good parent!”

Edge frowned, and glanced at his
brother. Red was observing them bitterly, but there was a sense of dejection
beneath the expression. It sent Edge’s soul spiralling into a pit of guilt. Red
had been there for Edge every time Stretch had broken his heart.

And he’d been there every time
Edge had gone running back to Stretch. He never said anything; Edge was an
adult after all, capable of making his own decisions. Part of Edge wished
Red would just talk some sense into him. He was so sick of this. He was tired. He couldn’t keep doing this to
himself. He couldn’t keep letting Stretch back into his life. He had to stop.

Red resented Stretch, but Edge
knew he’d never be able to do the same, as much as Stretch deserved it. So,
he held him. He held him tightly and didn’t let go. Taking a deep, laboured
breath, he said, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll help you.”

Edge forced himself to look away
from Red. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his brother’s expression—or worse
still, the disappointment. Instead, he focused on Stretch. He focused on the
feeling of Stretch’s delicate body wrapped in his arms; the soft warmth coming
from Stretch’s soul; the quiet sobs that wracked Stretch’s chest. “I’ll look
after you,” Edge whispered, stroking the back of Stretch’s skull. “I’ll look
after you… and our baby.”

Edge couldn’t bring himself to
care that the baby was half Razz. Half Fell monster, like he was. What kind
of child would he be bringing into the world? What if it turned out just like
him? What if—

The baby was also half Stretch.
And Edge knew that if he could bring himself to love the child even half as
much as he loved Stretch, it would be worth sacrificing his life for.