Chapter Nine #2
This is the moment. This is when you should tell him.
They stood so close to each other, Sobek just had to reach out to touch.
Surrounded by the beautiful mess of Rudy’s life - the pile of tiny shoes by the door, the crayon drawings taped to the walls, the sounds of the children arguing over who got which sandwich - and Sobek wanted to fall to his knees and claim his man.
Wanted to mark Rudy with his power and spend the rest of their eternity showing his devotion until the whole universe knew that Rudy Crisp belonged to an ancient god.
Instead, he followed Rudy to the kitchen and ate grilled cheese while Rose narrated the entire history of cheese - creatively but totally inaccurately - and Jack demonstrated his new technique for fitting half a sandwich in his mouth at once which was horrifyingly impressive.
Timothy sat curled against Sobek’s side like a barnacle.
Tomorrow, Sobek promised himself. Tomorrow I’ll tell him everything.
/~/~/~/~/
By late afternoon, Sobek had fixed six doors and created a small army of “helpers” who were more hindrance than assistance.
“Rose, you can stop opening and closing that door now.”
“But it’s so smooth now. Listen.” She demonstrated again, pushing the door slowly to make it whisper on its freshly oiled hinges.
“I am listening. I have listened seventeen times.”
“But this time is different.”
It was not different. Sobek had verified the door’s functionality after the eighth demonstration. The subsequent nine had been pure entertainment value for Rose, who apparently found properly functioning doors to be the height of excitement.
“Rose, sweetie, leave Sobek alone.” Rudy’s voice drifted from upstairs, where he was attempting to wrangle laundry. “Go play with your brothers.”
“Jack’s boring. He’s reading.”
“Then play with Timothy.”
“Timothy’s boring too. He’s just sitting there.”
Sobek glanced toward the living room, where Timothy had indeed planted himself on the couch, watching Sobek work. The child hadn’t moved in twenty minutes except to track Sobek’s movements from door to door.
“I’ll play with you,” Sobek offered, before his brain could point out that he had no idea how to play with four-year-olds.
Rose’s face transformed with joy. “Really? Can we play panthers?”
“What’s…”
But Rose had already dropped to all fours, growling with surprising accuracy for a child who theoretically had never seen a panther. She pounced toward the hallway, then spun back to Sobek with expectant eyes.
“You have to chase me.”
“I’m fixing…”
“Please?” Rose widened her eyes. “Jack never plays panthers anymore and Timothy just sits there and Daddy always says yes but then he gets distracted by laundry or dishes or something boring.”
Sobek looked at his toolbox. Looked at Rose’s hopeful face. Looked at Timothy, who had perked up slightly at the mention of playing.
“Five minutes.”
“Yes.” Rose took off running, her laughter echoing through the house.
Sobek followed at a measured pace, tracking the sound of tiny feet on hardwood. Rose had “hidden” behind the living room curtains, her small body creating an obvious lump in the fabric, giggles barely suppressed.
“Where could Rose be,” Sobek intoned with utterly flat delivery. “I cannot find her anywhere.”
More giggles and then the curtain wiggled.
“Perhaps she is in the kitchen.”
“No I’m not.” Rose burst from her hiding spot, arms raised. “I’m right here. I’m a panther.”
Her fingers had sprouted claws again, sharp and curved. Her teeth looked longer, more pointed. Not quite a shift, but close enough to make Sobek’s protective instincts slam into overdrive.
He glanced toward the stairs. Rudy was still upstairs, singing loudly off-key to some pop song about broken hearts.
“Rose.” Sobek crouched down, meeting her eyes. “Remember your breathing?”
“But we’re playing panthers.”
“And panthers breathe. Slowly. In through the nose...” He demonstrated.
Rose’s excitement dimmed slightly, but she copied him. One breath. Two. Her claws receded to regular fingernails, though her canines stayed sharp.
“Good. Keep breathing like that.” Sobek kept his voice low and calm. “When we play, we stay in control. Yes?”
“But it’s more fun when I’m all growly and bitey.”
“More fun. More dangerous.” Sobek tapped her nose gently. “You are strong, little panther. That means you must be careful.”
Rose processed this with a furrowed brow. “Daddy says I’m perfect the way I am.”
“You are perfect. And powerful. Those things go together.”
“Oh.” Rose considered this revelation. “Okay. I’ll be careful-powerful.”
“Good girl.”
She beamed at the praise, then immediately tackled Sobek’s leg with renewed energy, claws safely retracted.
Timothy appeared at Sobek’s elbow, drawn by the commotion. “Can I play?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t wanna be a panther, though.”
“What do you want to be?”
Timothy’s expression went very serious. “What you are.”
Sobek’s breath caught. Timothy didn’t know what Sobek was…not really. But the child’s instincts recognized some kinship, some form of shared nature.
“Then you’re what I am,” Sobek said carefully. “And we’ll play together.”
Rose had already moved on to “hunting” the couch cushions, pouncing with theatrical growls. Jack appeared in the doorway, drawn by the noise, book still in hand.
“What’re you guys doing?”
“Playing,” Rose announced. “Sobek’s playing with us. You have to play too.”
Jack looked torn between his book and his sister’s enthusiasm. “I’m at the good part...”
“Jack.” Sobek straightened to his full height. “Your sister wants to play. Your brother wants to play. They are asking you to join in.”
It wasn’t really a command, more of a strongly worded observation. But Jack perked up anyway, setting his book aside with exaggerated care.
“Okay, but I’m the alpha wolf, and nobody can argue.”
“I’m still a panther.” Rose insisted.
“Panthers don’t have alphas.”
“Well, wolves don’t have panthers.”
“Guys…”
But they were already off, chasing each other around the living room in a game that made absolutely no sense but involved a lot of shrieking and laughter.
Timothy tugged on Sobek’s shirt. “Can you sit down?”
“Why?”
“So I can sit with you.”
By the Nile, you’re so special, child, you really are. Sobek settled onto the couch, and Timothy immediately climbed into his lap, curling up like he’d done it a thousand times before. The child’s weight was slight but solid, real in a way that made Sobek’s throat tight.
“You’re warm,” Timothy mumbled, already half-asleep despite the chaos his siblings were creating mere feet away.
Sobek wrapped one arm around the small body, holding carefully like Timothy might shatter. “So are you.”
“Are you staying?”
The question was barely audible, Timothy’s face pressed against Sobek’s chest.
“For now. Yes.”
“Forever?”
Sobek looked down at the dark head tucked under his chin. At Rose and Jack racing past, wild and joyful and so heartbreakingly fragile. At the stairs where Rudy was still singing, still unaware of the ancient god sitting in his living room, cradling their son.
Their son. “I am not going anywhere,” Sobek said, low and fierce. I have to tell Rudy the truth tomorrow. I just have to.