#malcom dresden

Malcolm had been excited to be a father. Even aside of the fact that the kid was probably magical and was probably going to be crazy powerful and he wasn't sure how to handle that, he was going to be a dad!

But he hadn't expected that he would lose Margaret at the same time.

It was a hollow, aching kind of pain. If he'd been prepared for this possibility, he would have expected agony and sobbing; for now, he just felt numb, as if it hadn't yet sunk in that his wife was dead.

And leaving him to raise their son alone.

The doctors hadn't been able to stop the bleeding. A tragedy but a natural death, they said. Nothing more they could have done. Malcolm hoped she hadn't died in pain; she was a good woman and she had suffered enough in her life.

The newborn squirmed a little in his blue blanket, wrinkling his tiny face. He adjusted his hold, keeping the child close. Harry would be a good name; Margaret would probably tease him for naming their son after a human magician.

"I'm sorry," Malcolm whispered. "You probably want your mom."

Another tiny grumble and his heart ached again.

Margaret had been evasive about her past, only admitting to various mistakes and enemies she had made. He had trusted her and loved her, so he hadn't pushed. But he had been told enough that he knew that their child could become a target.

Which meant they had to be careful, probably move around a lot.