Us Against the World

Chapter 49- where the love light gleams

happy birthday swaggy my child

here is some ahem "fluff"

TW/CWs: Mention of Death

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Two boys play happily in front of a fireplace, warm lights from the flames and Christmas tree casting a cozy air over the room. The taller brunette is wearing a fuzzy gold onesie while the other, a boy with scruffy dirty blonde hair has a froggy onesie.

Their mother, a sheep hybrid with fluffy waist-length hair interrupts the boy's game. In one hand the renowned doctor holds a battered and stained cookbook and a pair of child-sized aprons that match the one she's already wearing. The other hand hold Puffy's one-year-old girl on her hip, "Come on my little ducklings we need to bake the cookies!"

This sentence causes the two brothers to instantly drop what they're holding and scurry after their Mom as she walks to the kitchen, bouncing the baby as she walks. The baby, Skye and her brother Clay aren't Puffy biological kids- she adopted them when her sister passed away shortly after Skye was born.

The shorter blonde, Clay, bounces behind his mom, practically vibrating with holiday excitement, "Can we eat them after?" Puffy's chocolate chip cookies are delicious and the hyper eight-year-old adores them.

The doctor smiles at the two boys, one trying to read the cookbook title and fidgeting around constantly, the other just kinda standing there. She puts Skye in her highchair so the baby will be able to be kept an eye on while they bake, before telling the pair, "You can each have one."

"But Moooommmmm!" Both boys whine in unison, both making their versions of puppy eyes at the sheep hybrid.

"No."

"Fine," Foolish grumbles while Clay only pouts while struggling with the ties of his apron

"So we need flour, sugar, baking soda and vanilla from the cabinet. Can you two grab those while I get another carton of eggs from the fridge outside?" Puffy asks, walking out of the kitchen to quickly get the eggs.

"Yup," The younger says confidently, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Foolish nods while counting on his fingers the items his mom had said to grab, "Flour, sugar..." After making sure he remembers all four, the brunette turns to his brother, who has zoned out staring into space, "Clay. Clay. Clay."

"WHAT!" The blonde yells.

"You were staring at the wall. Is there something on the wall?" Foolish squints at the plain drywall his brother seemed to have been examining.

Clay shakes his head before looking at the other boy, "No, I was just uh thinking."

"Bout what?"

"Mmmm," The younger hums, shrugging non-committally.

"Cn'you get a chair?" The brunette asks, looking up at the baking cabinet.

"Don't need a chair! See?" The boy in the frog onesie deftly hops on top of the kitchen counter, before carefully standing and going to open the cabinet.

"Clayyyy."

"No this is faster," He insists, passing the vanilla and sugar down to his brother.

Reluctantly receiving the ingredients, Foolish hisses, "Mom hates us climbing on stuff!"

Passing the final two ingredients down, Clay responds, "Well, I'm short and so are you."

"Shut up."

"HEY!" the blonde shouts, grabbing a handful of flour from the slightly open bag and chucking at his brother, covering him in the white powder. This causes the baby girl still in her highchair to cackle maniacally.

"Imma get you!" Foolish shouts, running after the slightly younger boy with a handful of flour.

"Boys."

"He started it!" Both boys point to the other while Skye continues to happily cackle in the background.

"I don't care who started it, I'm ending it," The doctor uses the famous line of all adults everywhere. Behind her back, her younger son sticks his tongue out at the older.

Foolish quickly returns the gesture before looking to his mom, "Mom, Clay stuck his tongue out at me!"

"Clay don't antagonize your brother."

"Ha-!"

Puffy turns to the other boy, "Foolish don't antagonize your brother."

"What I didn't-!"

"I saw."

"Sorry Mom," The pair mutter discordantly.

"Shall we get on with the baking?"

"YEAH!" Clay shouts enthusiastically, continuing to roll back and forth on his heels.

After the cookies are put in the oven, the two brothers sit with their noses pressed against the oven door, watching intently as the cookies slowly rise and bake. While the pair are occupied, Puffy quickly ducks out to change Skye's diaper.

Fifteen or so minutes later, Puffy removes the pair of baking sheets and uses a spatula to put the cookies on a cooling sheet.

Before the rainbow-haired doctor is even finished transferring the cookies, there's a gentle but insistent tugging on the back of her apron. Turning around reveals the pair of eight-year-olds looking up with pleading eyes. At Foolish's cue, both boys say, "Mom, may we please have a cookie?"

With a smile, Puffy ruffles each of their hair, "Aren't you being polite young men."

"Please?" Foolish asks, blinking his brown eyes, hands tucked innocently behind his back.

"Yes, of course."

This good news causes Clay to jump in the air a few times, "LET'S GO! I mean thanks Mom."

Puffy hands Foolish two of the partially cooled cookies, which one of which he hands to the other boy waiting behind him.

Thirty minutes later, Puffy has already put the baby to bed. Clay and Foolish are playing happily by the tree, acting out some scene involving Santa and the military, as eight-year-old boys tend to do.

"Bedtime kiddos."

"But we wanna stay up to see Santa!" Foolish declares while hiding a yawn.

"If you stay up, Santa won't come," Puffy warns, forcing a solemn expression to match her serious tone of voice.

Clay's eyes widen and he instantly grabs his brother's arm, dragging the brunette towards their bedroom, "C'mon Foolish we gotta go to bed!"

Since the pair are already in pajamas, they hop into their bunk bed and Puffy tucks them in.

With a yawn Clay mumbles, "Night Momma."

"G'night Mom," Foolish mutters as Puffy closes the bedroom door.

"Good night my little ducklings."

997 words

Question

Everything

:)