To Save My Child

Part 3 (part two of part three)

Death.

It was a concept Meliodas had become far too familiar with—especially after just three months inside the BHR Institute.

He’d watched countless people he’d grown to care for be beaten to death right before his eyes. You’d think he’d be numb by now. He *wished* he was.

Breakfast was stale bread again. Not that he was complaining. It wasn’t much, but just enough to keep producing milk for Tristan—his baby boy. One year old today.

The routine never changed. 
Wake up. 
Get dressed. 
Eat. 
Straight to "work."

Work meant sex—no. Rape. 
Hour after hour. Day after day. That was their purpose. Treated like cattle—no, worse. They didn’t even have names here. Just numbers.

259. That was his.

Meliodas... was that even his name anymore? He hadn’t heard it in so long, it felt like a dream. He didn’t know what was real or fake anymore. This place was pulling him apart, driving him toward madness. The only thing keeping him grounded... was his baby.

Everyone else here had become lifeless drones. Anyone who showed emotion, who dared fight back or cry or scream—was “put down” by the humans in charge.

Funny, how inhumane the humans were.

After breakfast, they were dragged—never guided—toward the working areas. Today, Meliodas was sent to the caretaker zone. That’s where they kept the pregnant ones and the babies whose mothers were still working.

He rested a hand on his slightly swollen belly. 

Another one.

He had learned the rules quickly: 
You are not a person. 
You are a doll. 
Don’t speak. Don’t move. Don’t even breathe too loud. 
Take what’s given. Leave what’s not. 
Lights off at 7:15. Be in bed by 7. 
Never disobey.

He missed Blake. So badly.

His fingers gripped the ring still on his finger. A useless token now.

Because Blake was dead. 
Blake wasn’t coming back. 
And Blake couldn’t protect him this time.

He wanted to die too. To go with him. 
But...

He looked down at the tiny boy in his arms. 
Tristan. His baby. His whole world.

How could I think about dying?

No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

He had to escape.

---

That night, the plan was set into motion.

Getting outside the facility was the easy part. They let them out sometimes—why not? No one ever made it past the gates.

But Meliodas wasn’t planning to go through the gates.

He was going through the underground tunnel. The same one they used to bring in supplies... and take out bodies.

He’d been planning this since day one—even if he'd been unconscious when he arrived.

The plan was simple: 
Sneak past the guards. 
Into the cart. 
Down the tunnel. 
To freedom.

He hadn’t planned for guards outside the facility too.

---

“This way!” shouted one of the guards. Flashlights sliced through the forest, illuminating trunks, leaves, and fear.

Meliodas clutched Tristan to his chest. 
“It’s going to be alright. I swear, I’m going to protect you.”

Maybe he was trying to reassure himself more than the baby.

“I heard something—over there!”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He was running out of time. Running out of places to hide.

Then he saw it.

The cabin.

Merlin's cabin. Merlin was a good friend of Blake's and a teacher figure to meliodas.

He kissed Tristan’s forehead. “I love you. I promise I’ll find you again.”

He set the baby down gently on the doorstep, tucked a note into his blanket, knocked twice, and disappeared behind the side wall.

A moment passed before the door creaked open.

“...What the—?” Merlin blinked into the darkness, her eyes narrowing.

Then she heard it. 
“Goo... goo... coo...”

She looked down.

And there he was. Tristan.

She bent down, picked him up with gentle hands. A paper slipped from his blanket.

> Dear Merlin,
> I know it’s been a long time. I know this is a lot to ask. But please take care of my son, Tristan. 
> Thank you for everything you taught me. 
> —Your favorite student, 
> Meliodas

Merlin sighed, hugging the baby close. “What have you gotten yourself into this time...?”

She carried Tristan inside and shut the door behind her.

Meliodas collapsed behind the wall, heart breaking, tears falling freely.

This is it... I’ll never see him again.

“Found you, bitch.”

He didn’t resist as they grabbed his hair and dragged him back. 
He didn’t fight as they beat him within an inch of his life. 
He felt... nothing.

Was he finally numb?

---

It’s been six years.

He lost his baby. His freedom. His name.

But if this one’s a girl... maybe he’ll name her Beatrice.

He’s just waiting now. 
Biding his time.

Because one day, he’ll burn this entire place to the ground.

A/N
Hiii! wow, it's been so long since I updated this book! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Anyways, as some of you might know my birthday is this Sunday 🥳. I'll be doing a Q and A so if you have any questions you want answers to leave them in the comments and I'll answer them. I also take one shot request, so if you haven't checked that out you should! I might write a special one shot on Sunday so stop bye 🤫Byeee!