#yandad

Now that you're old enough to live away from them though, you feel that things need to change. You want freedom, to have your own life.

The problem is, convincing Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer about that is easier said than done.

They like having you all to themselves, after all, so why would they let you leave the nest?

Since Autumn is the easiest to talk to, you nervously approach him as he rakes the yard of leaves. A gust of wind makes some fall back down onto the ground anyway, and you see him sigh deeply, looking quite irritated, until he looks at you.

He immediately softens his gaze at the sight of you, smiling. "Hello, dear! What can I help you with?"

"Um...hey..." You kick at the leaves a bit with your feet, avoiding eye contact with him. "I actually wanna talk with you..." His expression immediately turns worried. "It's nothing that serious! It's just... I think you'd overreact the least."

"I'm listening." Autumn gestures towards one of the garden benches nearby for you to sit, which you do so.

Taking a deep breath first, you try to organize your words. "So... I've been thinking a lot lately..."

"Yes?" Autumn says gently, setting down his rake and sitting next to you. His brows are furrowed, still clearly worried.

"Well, you see, I really appreciate you and everyone else raising me all these years, but..." you hesitate, trying to get the rest of what you need to say out before it hurts his feelings. "I want to be like the other humans, and start living on my own, being more independent... stuff like that."

He blinks slowly as he processes what you just told him. Then suddenly, without saying anything, Autumn stands up, grabs the rake again, and continues gardening.

This... was a surprisingly neutral reaction.

But then again, Autumn never gets mad.

"...Papa? Did you hear me?" you ask cautiously, watching him scoop up the scattered leaves into neat piles.

"I did."

"...and?" Now you're standing, feeling offended by the lack of response.

"And I don't have any response to give."

"You... don't have... any response to give...?" you repeat incredulously. This wasn't going how you wanted it to at all! "Well, I... uh, figured that since you were the most level-headed, that you wouldn't be upset about this!"

"I never said I was angry with you."

His nonchalant attitude makes you frustrated, especially since Autumn still isn't looking at you. "Let me guess: disappointed?"

Autumn finally looks up from what he was doing. "I suppose I'm just... shocked. I can't wrap my head around the fact my child would rather be with humans than with their parents."

"I'm human too," you mutter.

"Yes, but we chose to raise you, keep you safe, nurture you." There's an edge to Autumn's voice now. "You can't possibly want to waste your time among people who didn't even want you in the first place?"

Ouch. He hit you where it hurt, bringing up that you had been a sacrifice.

You glare at your Godly parent. "Don't bring that up, it isn't fair."

"Well, it's true. And now that you're grown, I refuse to lose you. Because I love you dearly," Autumn replies, staring at you intently, the golden sheen in his eyes seeming brighter than normal. "And you will not be leaving us so long as I have something to say about it. That's final."

Before you can protest, he walks back into the house. Feeling annoyed, you head back inside yourself.

If Autumn is saying no, you decide maybe Winter will be more understanding. Just getting permission from one of them should be enough...

You find Winter out on the patio, drinking coffee, as per usual. You're not sure why he does, given he's so tired that even caffeine doesn't make much difference for him, but he seems to enjoy the flavor enough.

When you walk towards him, he gives you a sleepy smile. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey, Mom." The way he looks at you, like you're his whole world, almost makes you want to abandon your plan entirely. Almost. "Um, is it okay if we talk? About something sort of... well... serious?"

Winter frowns, looking very worried already, but he nods. "Alright..." As he sets down his mug on the little glass table, his fingers shake, something they always do when he's nervous or uncomfortable. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, nothing like that! I promise," you quickly add on, sitting down across from him.

"That's good," Winter breathes a sigh of relief, calming down some. "Then what's wrong?"

Gazing up at Winter's gentle face, you wonder how exactly to go about telling him, so as not to break his heart. Especially since he tends to internalize things far too much.

But after thinking through how best to phrase it, you end up spitting the truth out, unadulterated. "I want to move out."

"What?" Winter's voice cracks on that simple word, pain flashing across his features.

Ugh, that's such a guilt trip. You look away awkwardly. "It's nothing personal, I just want... freedom."

"How am I supposed to take care of you? How will I protect you?" he asks frantically. "Are you unhappy here? If so, I'll fix whatever's wrong. Anything. Did I do something?"

You groan softly. He's taking this worse than Autumn, but not quite how you predicted it either. "It's not that. Really! But... I'm human. I won't live forever like you guys." When you reach out to gently grasp his hand, he recoils. That stings, but you forge onward, determined to make your point. "I just want to make memories while I'm young, instead of... cooped up in here!"

"It's exactly because of your mortality that makes me even more terrified," Winter rasps. "You shouldn't be doing dangerous things. That's what your parents are supposed to prevent." He swallows thickly before continuing, eyes wet with unshed tears. "What would we do without you?"

"I'm going to die eventually," you argue, to which Winter dramatically gasps. "What? I'm stating a fact!"

"Please don't say such cruel things." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I'd rather we stopped having this conversation altogether, in fact."

"You can't avoid this!" You stand when he does. "Please, just... try to understand!" You grab onto his arm desperately. "Mom, please."

At your sad expression, and your soft begging, Winter wavers some. His gaze shifts to the floor. "Even if the others agree to it, which they won't... I won't allow this. I'm sorry."

You groan, sitting back down and burying your head in your hands.

So he's against the idea as well. Of course.

"Kiddo, what the hell happened?" Summer asks, having just witnessed his husband come inside crying.

"I didn't mean to make him cry," you mutter.

"Of course I know that. He's sensitive like your Mama, but that doesn't change what I asked." He sits down next to you, not looking angry. Just concerned. "Wanna tell me what went on with you two?"

You don't even have the energy to beat around the bush anymore. "I want to move out."

Summer's jaw tenses visibly. He frowns. "Oh, yeah?"

"Papa already said no, so did Mom," you explain tiredly, slumping over the table, feeling defeated already. "And I already know what Mama will say, he's the most predictable." And he probably heard the conversations both times from wherever he is inside the house, crying somewhere with Winter now. "Dad, please tell me you understand."

There's silence. Your father inhales deeply through his nose. "Actually, yeah."

Hope blossoms in your chest. He's going to let you leave? This could be your ticket out!

"But," Summer continues, much to your heartbreak, "under no circumstances am I gonna let that happen."

"...what? You literally just agreed with me!"

"Not quite, sunshine," he says. "I do understand wanting independence and all that stuff. But you're my baby, and you will never stop being my baby. I love you so much. If something happened to you, I'd lose my shit—excuse my French. So, unfortunately, I won't be helping you out."

Just like that, your hope is destroyed. "I only live once, I told Mom this too. I don't want to spend all my life here."

"Kid, please, don't make us sound like we're keeping you locked away," Summer murmurs. "Hey, if you want space, I can help build an extension to the house for you. I'm sure everyone else will prefer that over you wanting to move too."

"No!" you shout, surprising Summer with your sudden shift in attitude. "That isn't the fucking point! You are keeping me locked away!"

"What?"

"I haven't had contact with anybody besides you four since I was, like, eight! It isn't fair!"

The man glares at you. "Don't talk to me like that."

"You aren't my dad! None of you are my mom or dad! You're Gods, and you decided to raise me yourselves because... why?! Because you were lonely? You wanted to play house?!" You stand up suddenly, feeling your heart pounding harder than it ever has in your entire life. "I am sick and tired of it all, Dad!"

You know you're out of line. But you're so frustrated that you can't see straight.

Summer stands up as well, staring directly into your eyes. "(Y/n), watch that tone. I don't want to ground you."

"Ground me then! It's not like I'm allowed to go anywhere anyway!" You stomp inside, and Summer doesn't follow you.

When you slam the door shut, you turn to see Autumn, Winter, and a now crying Spring on the couch. Great, just your luck. They heard everything. Spring especially looks miserable.

"Why are you all here?" you question angrily.

Autumn is the first to speak. "I think you know the answer to that."

Spring is quick to hug you. "Why were you saying those things?! Was I a bad Mama?" he sobs, burying his face in your hair.

Sometimes it isn't obvious they have no clue what parenting is supposed to be like, and moments like these make it show. Spring is definitely the hardest to stay mad at.

Though it hurts to push him away when he's crying, you do it anyway, letting him look at you through tears and horror.

"Because none of this is fair!" you snap at all of them. "I hate feeling like a bird trapped in some gilded cage!"

"This is for your protection, (Y/n)," Autumn sighs. He gets off the couch and tries approaching you cautiously, hands raised like you're some wild animal. "We love you."

"You don't love me. You just want to own me like some kind of pet," you retort. "If you really loved me, you would want me to be happy."

"And we want you to live, too!" Winter snaps. "I'm sorry if that is a higher priority to us than anything else."

"Well, guess what?! I'm gonna die eventually, no matter if I stay here for the rest of my life or not!" You storm off, Spring's louder cries and Winter's softer ones fading out as you run to your bedroom.

...

A few hours later, you come downstairs, having calmed down a bit more, though you're worried about seeing your guardians again.

You shuffle into the kitchen, where you see Autumn preparing lunch. Not seeing the others, you walk up to him sheepishly.

"Hi, Papa."

"Hm? I thought you didn't see any of us that way now." His tone of voice is cutting, but you can tell it's hiding a lot of hurt. That's worse than how harsh he's acting towards you.

You sniffle. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

Autumn immediately stops cooking when he sees you crying. He comes over, wiping your tears away carefully, like you'll break beneath his fingertips. "Oh... pumpkin, don't cry."

"I didn't mean to upset everybody like I did," you choke out through hiccups. "I hate fighting."

He sighs softly, wrapping you in his strong arms, bringing you close enough that you can hear his heartbeat, and laying a kiss upon the top of your head. "Me too."

Soon enough, you apologize to Winter, then Spring, and lastly Summer. Thankfully, each and every one of them forgive you, even if they disagree with what you want.

Yet truth is, you aren't sorry. You just want as little as tension as possible.

...

Ever since that day, you thought about escaping, but were always held back because... well, it's hard to have much time to yourself to even think about it, when there's four overprotective Gods who consider you their baby.

Not to mention if you tried escaping in daylight, there would be no chance you would get far at all. Autumn and Spring are almost always tending to the garden, Summer is always doing yard work, and Winter... well, sometimes he just likes to stand outside and drink his coffee or hot cocoa.

But you begin thinking maybe, just maybe, during the nighttime, you'll have a better chance at getting away.

After all, it's getting to the point where you feel like you'll suffocate if you stay in this place for a second longer. The desire to be independent is stronger than anything you've experienced.

You wait until late at night, when you think your parents are asleep, which takes forever.

Then you slip out of bed, creeping across your bedroom and out into the hallway.

Every step makes a loud creak in the silence.

It's eerie, the sensation of knowing nobody's around except for your guardians, who might wake at any moment.

Once you finally reach the front door, you take one last glance behind you. Maybe you're wondering if you should just turn back.

Everyone would be devastated. Spring and Winter would probably spend the rest of their lives bawling, while Summer and Autumn would tear apart the world until they find you again.

Is it worth the trouble?

...well, yeah. If you don't do something, you might go crazy. These people love you more than life itself, but it's constricting nonetheless.

So, with that final thought, you quietly open the door, slipping outside and closing it once more, not daring to breathe in case you're discovered.

...

That night, you sleep at an inn in the nearest town. It takes hours to walk there, and your legs are tired by the end, but the sense of accomplishment that you managed to escape in the first place keeps you from completely breaking down.

You're pretty sure you know they discovered you're gone, because early in the morning a raging snowstorm happens. It's December, so you can tell Winter is beyond upset.

For all the other villagers' sake, you leave before one of them can tear down the entire town trying to find you.

...

Traveling is hard, you soon discover.

Your money runs out quickly, and without the means to earn more, it's almost impossible to find a place. You miss your comfortable bed. Hell, you miss having food readily available for you whenever you want.

What you wouldn't give to have Autumn's amazing cooking or pastries, or Winter's warm cups of cocoa in this chilly weather.

Unfortunately, you can't afford those luxuries now.

In fact, it gets so difficult to pay for rent at a motel that you end up sleeping outside more often than not.

Around the second week, you notice damage happening around you because of you, no doubt. Each village you go to, you hear how the one you had just left was wiped out. You don't need to guess by who.

Even the land around you is decaying. Everything from trees to animals, all dying. People everywhere are suffering.

And it's all because of you.

...

Almost a full month goes by, and it doesn't stop, but you realize with horror that they'll never just let this go. What's a month to you is nothing to beings with thousands of years worth of existence already lived.

The next village, you finally decide this isn't a battle worth fighting anymore. That it's better to give up than to keep causing everyone around you to suffer.

You begin your trek back home.

...

It's the middle of the night when you arrive. There are lights coming from the windows, indicating someone must be awake still. The rest of the landscape looks dead.

You swallow dryly, raising a hand and knocking. Before you can get too worked up about the situation, the door opens, revealing Spring.

He has dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes, looking more disheveled than he's ever been. Tears are quick to flood his eyes, and he claps a trembling hand over his mouth when he sees you.

Then he yanks you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest.

The entire time, he cries incoherently, and you think you hear apologies amongst his sobbing. Spring only pulls away to hold you at arm's length, taking in your neglected appearance.

"Oh, honey," he gasps out between hyperventilation. "Oh, look at you...!"

Before you can explain, you're led inside, the warmth of the interior making you want to collapse right then and there. Instead, Spring brings you over to the couch, setting you down so gently that it feels like he thinks you're made of glass.

He sits down next to you, rubbing circles along your back. "Does anything hurt?" Spring frets. "Oh, baby, you must've been through so much..."

The pressure becomes too much for you. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, stress, and emotion, you burst into tears. Spring doesn't say anything, just continues trying to comfort you.

"Mama," you sob. "Where's everyone else?"

"They went out looking for you, like they have every single day since you disappeared," Spring explains with a shaky sigh.

You feel awful for what you've done. The self-hatred gnaws at you, refusing to let you go.

He holds you for another hour, before the other three are bursting through the front door.

Each of them looks as equally exhausted and broken as Spring. Like they haven't slept properly in days. It hurts seeing them so miserable because of you.

Yet it's short-lived, because as soon as they all realize you're sitting on the couch with Spring, you're pulled into hugs.

Like with Spring, they seem afraid you'll shatter, like cracked porcelain that could break at any second if dropped, yet durable enough to be squeezed just enough.

They all take turns examining you, fretting over your condition. Autumn immediately heads into the kitchen, probably to make you dinner. Spring leaves as well to get pajamas and new clothing ready for you.

Meanwhile Winter and Summer keep holding you.

"How did you survive?" Winter asks, sniffling. "Oh, sweetheart."

"That doesn't matter," Summer whispers, rocking the three of you back and forth slowly. "All that matters is our kid is okay."

All that you can think about is guilt. Mostly for the endless amount of lives they surely ended looking for you. You wish you thought this through sooner, but a part of you had hoped they'd give up after awhile.

"I'm tired," you mutter.

Winter smiles weakly at that. "Dinner is almost ready. We'll let you sleep right after."

You nod numbly.

...

The next day, you wake up cuddled between Spring and Summer. It's funny, usually they're the first ones to rise.

You hear talking from the kitchen, wriggling your way out of their arms before exiting your bedroom, following the sound of the voices. They belong to Autumn and Winter, coming from the dining room.

"...we've been putting it off for too long. If they could handle these past few days, I know they're ready." Autumn. "Don't you want this, too?"

"You're right. I just..." Winter. "We've never done this before, all we know its a painful and dangerous process. What if..."

"It's going to be fine, Winter." Autumn sounds surprisingly soft. "You know we're more than capable of helping them through it."

As quiet as can be, you listen in further, trying not to interrupt. It's odd to be eavesdropping, but they're clearly discussing something concerning you. How could you resist?

"I know." Winter exhales audibly. "I agree this needs to happen, I just doubt they'll like it."

"Better that than the alternative, don't you think?" Autumn hums.

There's a pause. "Of course I do, dear."

"I'm glad you see reason. They are our child, and as their parents, it's only natural to do this to ensure their safety forevermore."

Wait... what?

Your stomach drops, and you retreat back upstairs before you're found, hoping they didn't hear your presence.

Yet you aren't quite able to shake what you just overheard.

They plan on doing something to you, that much is clear. Though you still can't figure out what, exactly, the action might entail. They've never harmed you before. Never abused you in any way.

So why is this scaring you so badly?

Maybe the fear is irrational, but it still makes you queasy, sick with worry.

Later, when Spring and Summer are awake, you all sit down for breakfast together. Their expressions seem... forced. All four of them are acting differently around you.

They keep sharing looks amongst themselves. As if communicating telepathically.

No words need to be spoken aloud, and you wonder if perhaps they're giving each other confirmation of what they're planning to do.

If they know that you know, they don't bring it up.

In fact, nobody says anything for awhile.

Suddenly, Autumn clears his throat.

"So... (Y/n), honey... today... we have something important planned for you."

"What is it?" you ask hesitantly.

Everyone goes quiet, like looking for words, until Summer picks up where he left. "When you left, everyone was thinking about what you said. About, y'know, dying." He pauses to look at the other's in confirmation. "We don't want that, and I think deep down, you don't, either. And luckily for you, we have a solution. We didn't use it sooner, because it can easily backfire if you aren't old enough... but you are now."

"By doing what?" you press nervously.

It's Spring who speaks next. "Immortality. We can make you a God just like us." He smiles brightly. "Won't that be great? You can stay with us forever, be safe, protected from harm, never have to worry again about—"

You cut him off, feeling yourself panicking. "You want to force me to become like you?"

Spring looks heartbroken. "Are you saying you don't want to? Sweetie, humans would kill for a gift like this!"

"Yeah!" Summer exclaims. "It's a blessing."

"It's wrong!" you snap, earning a horrified look from Spring. "It's my choice to make."

"Why are you treating this like we're punishing you?" Summer says incredulously.

"It feels like it," you retort.

Winter interjects with his own two cents. "We're giving you eternal life. Safety. This is the only way you can live without ending up in danger. There is no downside to this."

"Yes there is," you murmur. "I don't want this!"

You try to scramble away, but suddenly there's vines wrapped around your ankles and wrists. With a cry, you fall to the floor.

"Papa!" you yell, pleading with Autumn to reconsider. To let you go. You pull at the vines fruitlessly.

Winter cups your cheek, guiding your face to meet his gaze. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," he whispers, sounding teary. "But I swear to you, we're doing this in your best interests."

Summer nods. "It'll hurt. A lot. But we'll take care of you afterwards." He reaches down to help lift you, while Winter brushes some of your hair out of your eyes. "Promise."

You whimper as your guardians guide you upstairs to another room, struggling the entire time to escape. But it's no use. You can barely move at all.

Autumn grabs an old book he had prepared, apparently. Its spine is nearly falling apart, like it hasn't been touched in years. You assume the magic for what they're about to cast lies somewhere in those pages.

"You'll be okay," Winter breathes. He holds your head to his chest, crying with you, alongside Spring. "This is only a one-time thing, I promise, honey." His voice breaks.

Spring blinks away his tears. "Please don't hate us," he whispers tearfully. "It hurts us, too."

Autumn opens the book and starts reading the incantation.

Immediately, a sharp jolt rips through your body. Your skin is burning from the inside. Every single nerve is alight with pain. You scream. Sobbing, you beg for the agony to stop, but it doesn't. If anything, the pain just gets worse and worse.

Through your screaming, you barely register Winter holding you tighter, or Autumn's voice breaking throughout his reading of the spell.

The pain is searing hot now, shooting straight through your bones.

"We're almost there," Spring chokes out. "It's okay, baby. We love you so much."

You try to breathe, but you can't get enough air. Your lungs are being ripped to shreds, filling with fire every time they expand.

Everything fades from view after that; black spots dancing across your vision, accompanied by ringing in your ears as unconsciousness claims you once more.

...

When you come to, you're still in pain. It's nowhere near as intense as earlier, but it still feels as if your body had been dipped in hot lava and freezing cold water at the same time. Your thoughts race wildly. The only sensation keeping you tethered to reality is the hand running up and down your back.

Finally, opening your eyes slightly, everything begins returning back to clarity.

Summer smiles at you sadly. "Hey, peanut."

The silly nickname always made you laugh, but now you can only stay still, limp in your dad's arms.

"Sorry you're still hurtin', bud. I know it's not a great feeling." He kisses your forehead. "At least we know that was the worst of it, yeah? Things can only get better from here."

You look up, flinching from the light hitting your eyes. Everything is blurry.

Winter and Autumn look back at you. They're relieved. Both of them smile when they see you staring at them.

"There you are. Welcome back to the waking world, pumpkin," Autumn smiles.

"We were so worried about you," Winter murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head.

Spring comes back with a tray of food and drink. When he notices you're awake, his expression morphs into pure joy. "My little angel! Are you alright? Can you speak, sweetie?"

All four Gods seem nervous for whatever response you have, if any at all.

Instead, you open your mouth and croak out: "Water."

Autumn wordlessly gets you a cup filled with ice chips, and guides you to sip from it gingerly.

Despite having your adoring, cooing parents surrounding you, all you feel is betrayal, hurt, and rage. You're too tired to get angry, though, so you just let your head fall against Summer's chest again.

"Go back to sleep, sunshine." Summer rubs your shoulder soothingly. "We gotcha."

The others nod and murmur their agreement.

And your unhappiness is the clearest thing he’s ever seen. The lack of focus in your eyes, your uncoordinated footsteps, the way you’ve been scraping at the dough on your hands while you’re lost in thought.

You’ve been daydreaming again. You always daydream when you start feeling lonely. It seems to be much of what you do these days.

“It isn’t safe enough for you to leave the house. Not yet.”

He never does specify when ‘yet’ is. You don’t think he ever will. Some cynical part of yourself wonders if that far off ‘yet’ will ever come.

It had been one single accident that had landed you on house arrest, through no fault of your own. But it hasn’t mattered whether you had been at fault, not to your father. All that had mattered was that a stray blast of magic; from a mage practicing unlawfully and recklessly, had hit you head on, nearly entirely crumbling the dough of your right arm. You had fallen backwards and hit the ground, jam oozing from the wounds.

Your father had been first on the scene, as usual. A long life of both solving and resolving incidents had left him weary and prepared for most of what the world had to offer him.

Ready for anything but one of his two children lying flat on the ground, dough crumbled and oozing, crying weakly in a curled up ball.

And now, he spends every waking moment acting like it happened just yesterday. Your arm is long healed, tiny white lines across your arm being the only sign of any wound or injury, your jam levels steady and healthy.

Still, he can’t get the image out of his head.

Crying. Bleeding. Broken.

So you have to stay inside, for your own good. If something has happened once, it can happen again. Even though he’s seen to the imprisonment of that careless Cookie that dared harm you, the thought that you might get hurt again sends chills down his dough. You got lucky once. There’s no way to ensure that you’ll get lucky again.

Almond Cookie doesn’t live his life recklessly, and neither will you. No leaving it up to luck, no letting the cards fall where they may, no risking it all on a gamble.

Instead, he’ll keep you locked safely inside, getting to freely roam the house with only Constable Whiskers for company. And though the little black cat does an admirable job of combating your loneliness, he just isn’t a replacement for other Cookies.

Thankfully, this isolation won’t be permanent. His intention truly isn’t to leave you locked up forever, to tend to you until his dough wears out. He will genuinely allow you to leave when he thinks that the world has grow safe enough to accommodate you.

It seems to take forever, seeing how giant everything is compared to your small size.

In the middle of grabbing what you can find, you hear a sniffle.

Apparently someone is home? They sound sad.

You follow the noises as quietly as possible, just to see what's going on. You come face to face with a giant sitting on his own bed, head buried in his hands. He's rather pale, with long well-kept light brown hair, blue eyes, and dressed in what you assume is a culturally accurate garb for giants; simple but elegant clothing.

No, don't feel sympathy for him, you remind yourself. Just get what you came here for, and get out.

And so, you quietly rush back to work, gathering all you can carry. Its a little loud, but you're sure the giant won't be able to hear you over his own sorrow, for what ever reason that is.

Just as you go back to the table with more loot, you suddenly hear footsteps.

You gasp, scrambling for a place to hide.

There!

You hide behind a huge glass pitcher of what you're sure is lemonade or some sort of sugary drink for giants.

Its too late when you realize you didn't even put the gold back like you found it. The giant looks over to the table, eyeing it suspiciously. Your stomach is doing flips.

"I'm losing my mind," he laughs to himself, but it doesn't seem very humorous. More like its bordering on hysteria. He then goes over to the glass pitcher you're hiding behind, lifting it up with a cup prepared in his hand.

You're frozen in shock.

The giant stares at you with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He nearly drops the pitcher as he lowers it onto the table carefully. His mouth forms an 'o' shape.

"A human!" he gasps. His voice is soft, which seems so unfitting for his large size. Just as he reaches forward to grab you, you manage to react quick enough to run away and try to find somewhere else to hide. "Wait!" the giant shouts, panicked, "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you!"

You look for an exit. The window!

Before you can reach the window to climb back down the beanstalk, the giant grabs you. Its gentle, thankfully, but you still scream.

He's not necessarily large enough to comfortably hold you in his hand without using both, but can still grab you just fine with one hand. He brings you to his face, getting a better look at you. You try kicking him, and it seems to startle him, but not really anger him. He just seems... worried, almost?

"You poor thing!" he cries, sounding like he's genuinely scared. Scared? Really? "You must have been lost from your parents! Oh, you poor baby..."

Huh? You blink, confused. Baby? Parents? It dawns on you, that he thinks you're a kid. You suppose that makes sense, you are almost about the size to him that a human baby would be to a fully grown adult, if not just a tiny bit smaller.

Yet if he knows you're a human, shouldn't he also know this is a perfectly normal size?

Maybe he hasn't seen humans very much, which wouldn't be surprising. Humans did a good job hiding from giants, and you're pretty sure you're the first human to find a way to enter their world by climbing the beanstalk.

Well, at least it should make things a little easier.

"Um..." you start, nervously looking away. Should you correct him? Probably not. It's probably best to let him keep thinking you're a child so that maybe you won't have to face his wrath for trying to rob him. "I got lost! Yeah."

The giant coos, adjusting his hold so you're sitting much more comfortably in both of his large palms. He's not as large as the other giants you've heard can be, and if he were just slightly smaller then he might not be able to hold you like this, but it works. He's large enough to do so, just barely.

"It's okay, honey," he speaks softly, "what's your name?"

"(Y/n)," you answer. "What... what's your name?"

"My name is Wolfe." Wolfe gives you a small, sweet smile. He doesn't look nearly as sad anymore. In fact, he appears to be very happy now. But why?

A part of you wants to ask him why he was crying earlier, and yet the thought also scares you.

Its not worth asking him that. Not now, at least.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asks again, voice laced with worry. "How on earth did you get here, baby?"

You're not sure if its a wise idea to tell him the truth. "I'm not really sure... Everything is a blur, I just don't really remember much."

He's either gullible or not letting on more than he's thinking, because he sighs heavily in relief and gently kisses your forehead. It's still awkward given how much smaller you are than him. If you were to give a best estimate, you'd say he's about three or four times taller than you.

Which is still a lot... but you suppose it could be worse. You heard some giants are much, much larger.

"It must have been so scary for you," he says sympathetically. He adjusts his hold so you're cradled in his arms like an actual baby. Compared to him, your height is kind of like a baby.

Your face feels like its burning with embarrassment, and you squirm in his hold uncomfortably.

"I-I'm okay, though," you defend weakly, "really."

Wolfe hums in acknowledgement, but it feels very patronizing. He does not seem to believe you one bit. Though, he seems more worried than skeptical.

You feel tired from walking around the massive house, searching everywhere for gold and jewels. There aren't many options right now, and Wolfe is very gentle with you, so you suppose to take your chances slipping away when he doesn't have his attention on you.

Apparently, that'd be harder than you thought.

Not once does he take his eyes off you.

He basically swaddles you in the smallest blanket he has (which is still very large), and holds you against his hip as he makes food, humming to himself all the while. Occasionally, he glances down at you fondly. You have no choice but to stare up at him, too scared to close your eyes.

This doesn't feel right, at all. Is he always going to act like this? Is there no way out of it?

No, you'll just wait until nighttime. Even though you don't know anything about giants, you can assume they need sleep like everyone else.

"I should get you some more clothes soon," he murmurs to himself, yet addressing you. "Maybe I should take up sewing again. Oh, and I'll make you a darling little room right next to mine! Yes, you'll love it! With toys, a bed..." He nods to himself.

You laugh nervously. "What about my, uh, real parents? I'm sure they're worried about me."

Wolfe tilts his head. "Oh, no, silly. Why would you want to go back to them? If you managed to get lost and ended up all the way here, surely they must not care about you all that much. I'd never let something like that happen to you. And I won't."

He shakes his head, as if to rid himself of the terrible idea of sending you home. You shudder at how easily and quickly he dismissed you.

You mull over your next words for a moment, just wanting to change the subject. "Why were you crying earlier?"

The way Wolfe flinches makes you regret ever opening your mouth. Your stomach fills with dread as you realize just how insensitive that sounded.

You immediately backtrack and try apologizing, only to be shushed gently. Wolfe presses a kiss to your forehead again, smiling, though you notice the way his eyes become distant for a split moment. He looks a lot sadder now.

"It's nothing to worry about, sweetheart. No need to think about adults' problems," he reassures.

For what ever reason, this rubs you the wrong way, like someone had stabbed at your pride. If he fully knows you're a human, you wonder what he thinks an adult human is supposed to look like. Then again, maybe he really just knows nothing about humans other than the bare minimum.

If anything, you hope it means he's more easy to escape.

For the rest of the time he's cooking, he goes on rambles about how much he already adores you, how long he's always wanted kids, and all the plans for the future with you. It makes you nervous, but you know that it'll be useless to argue back.

Your meal is way too big for you, but thankfully he cuts it up into a tinier portion that would suit a normal meal for you.

At realizing the table is too high up for you, he clicks his tongue and sits you on his lap instead, feeding you with a spoon. The entire thing is beyond humiliating, especially when he starts doing things like wiping your face after every bite like a helicopter parent or reminding you to slow down while eating.

But, at the very least, the food is amazing. Maybe even better than any meals you've had back home.

With the events of today catching up to you, you lean against him tiredly when finishing dinner, resisting the urge to sleep. You need to stay awake so you can slip away at night.

He chuckles in adoration. "So sleepy. We'll work on your room tomorrow, okay? Until then, you can sleep in Papa's bed."

"Papa?" you repeat, unimpressed.

"Yes! Good job!" Wolfe coos, sounding like he might cry again.

He puts away the dishes after washing them off, putting you down onto the counter while doing so.

You try hopping off the edge and running, but he catches you again just before you land safely onto the floor.

"No!" Wolfe cries desperately, looking absolutely horrified. "Don't jump like that, sweetheart! You could have seriously hurt yourself!"

That attempt of escape didn't work out, sadly. You can only hope he's a heavy sleeper so you can sneak away tonight.

And, once again, you're being cradled against his chest.

"It's a miracle you survived this long without me," he tuts, though he doesn't seem upset anymore. "If you want to play hide-and-seek, we'll have all day tomorrow, okay, baby? For now, its bedtime."

You know you're not getting out of it, so you just nod.

Once you arrive in Wolfe's bedroom, he settles you down onto a pillow carefully. He excuses himself very briefly to change into some night clothes. The only reason you don't run away is because you've come to terms it won't work. Once he comes back, he swaddles you back in blankets and then brings you to his chest once again.

He pets your head soothingly as your head is practically pressed into his shoulder. You watch him grab something; it looks like a children's book.

"I've always collected little things like these," Wolfe mumbles, "because I wanted to have children someday. And now I finally have the cutest little one!" He peppers kisses on top of your head. "Are you ready for a story?"

No, you're not. Not at all. You sigh, agreeing halfheartedly.

Its a very generic story of a prince saving a princess, defeating a dragon. That sort of thing. Maybe it really is doing its job, because you feel exhausted just listening to the boring story. You're afraid if you pretend to fall asleep, you'll end up falling asleep for real.

Only when its the last page of the story, do you pretend to doze off. It works, and Wolfe looks satisfied. He closes the book shut, setting it aside onto a nightstand.

"I can't believe my wishes are coming true," he whispers to himself, as you've noticed he frequently does.

Once you can hear his soft snores, and you feel his grip loosen up on you.

You don't get hopeful yet, though. The blanket is still tight around you, so you have to wiggle yourself around until you get free. Its hard, and you almost knock some things over during your struggle. Luckily, it doesn't disturb Wolfe too much. He only stirs slightly, but never fully awakens.

Finally, you crawl away from the bedside and begin the trek down the halls.

It's nearly pitch black, so you have to feel your way around. It seems like it takes hours, but you manage to make progress until finding a window, just a tiny bit of light spilling out of it from the moon.

Carefully, you slip your way outside through the open window.

You hesitate, wondering if you should grab what you originally came here for, but decide against it. You just want out of here.

The drop isn't so bad, and you nearly sprint to where you remember the beanstalk being, the way you got here to begin with.

After lots of searching, and running out of breath several times along the way, you find no sign of the stalk.

Realization dawns upon you like getting doused with ice cold water. Someone must've cut it down after you got here.

You hang onto desperation and hope, wondering if perhaps you didn't check well enough. Yet despite all your efforts, you find nothing. You have no choice but to accept that fact. Someone found it and removed it. What are you going to do now? Surely there's another way back down, right?

"Baby?" a panicked voice shouts.

You freeze up, blood running cold. Of course he's figured out you're gone by now.

"Baby!" Wolfe calls again. His voice sounds broken, hysterical.

Before you can even process anything, Wolfe's figure approaches. He looks beside himself, frantic, eyes filled with tears and cheeks already tear stained. He collapses onto his knees as he comes up to you.

You consider running, but you know outrunning him is impossible. Instead, you just wait in fearful anticipation.

"Why would you run away like that?" Wolfe whispers in disbelief, as if he can't process it. "Why would you scare me like that?" He doesn't seem like he expects you to answer, just scooping you in his arms and taking long strides back home.

He's holding you tight, like he's terrified you might somehow slip away. He's shaking, and you're pretty sure you are too.

The rest of the way is silent as Wolfe cradles you securely.

He's already back inside the house when he breaks the silence.

"That was very dangerous. You are so, so lucky another giant didn't see you," he rasps. "If they did..." He shudders. "What were you even thinking?" His voice isn't raised, it never had been, but you can tell he definitely isn't pleased with you. He wipes at his eyes as he carries you back into his room. "You really scared me, (Y/n)," he breathes, "you can't do things like that."

"Sorry," you reply lamely, guilt starting to settle in your gut. "Please don't be mad at me." You wince when you feel his large thumb wipe away some stray tears that had fallen from your own eyes.

"Oh, no, I'm not mad!" he cries sympathetically. "I'm worried about you. Please understand that." He gives a shaky sigh. "I was just scared. I've been alone for so long, I..." he trails off. "You shouldn't have to hear that, I'm sorry, sweetheart."

You don't ask questions, nor do you respond.

He kisses you on the forehead again as he starts redressing you in the huge blankets. "Please stay safe in Papa's arms tonight. Promise me..."