So, um...the two of us may have lost ten chapters. The ones between chapter 90 and 100...um...
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Vincent became even more clingy after the birth of the babies. It may have been the shock of nearly losing her, or it was because of the uncharacteristically mean Harvey trying to separate him from Shay at every chance.
The conflict in general was exhausting enough for Shay when she had her health and didn't have fourteen mouths nursing on her nearly 24/7.
"Harvey, dude, seriously," she half sighed, half groaned from where she stood with Vincent clasped about her middle, short enough to pass as a large child clinging to his mom. Thankfully, the melon like biceps pressed against her stomach dispelled that image.
"Stop using her as a shield and fight me," snarled Harvey, the whites of his eyes finally returned to a light pink.
"Have you lost your mind? He'd slaughter you."
Harvey flinched, turning his hot eyes onto her.
"Shay, for once, please stay out of this. I know this isn't the way where you're from, but this is ours."
"Screw culture, we both know you're just itching to vent whatever on him. I already told you, I chose--"
"You chose as much as one can between jumping off a cliff or jumping into a fire!" he all out snarled.
Harvey had always been a safe and soft person for Shay. It was one of the reasons she had allowed herself to grow so close and fond of him.
It was because of this that seeing his fangs bared at her scared her more than Curtis and Ryan combined.
In a blink of an eye Vincent had her behind him and back into the hobbit hole, where she had just been trying to escape for some much needed sunbathing when Harvey had pounced.
"You will not yell at my mate," Vincent said lowly.
"Mate by force," Harvey said, equally low and furious. "And only until your young are weaned. Her other mates will kill you as soon as they see you."
A flutter of squeakings behind her made her groan out loud.
"No, stay asleep..." She was exhausted. The hollow, dead feeling inside of her found no peace in nursing her fuzzy, admittedly adorable young. She knew she should love them, she knew she wanted to and normally would, but she somehow found herself unable to feel anything besides tired, dull, and hopeless.
"Fine, I will fight you," said Vincent. "But then you must leave her be."
The door closed behind him and Shay fell face first into the fur rug before the fire, readying her famished stores of motivation to get up and nurse the babies.
She woke up to the door clicking shut and Vincent walking back in.
"The kits are crying for you," he said, ever gentle.
"I know, I just...I just fell asleep." Though how she did with their loud shrieking.
She pushed herself to her hands and knees, but Vincent was already besides her, putting the back of his fingers against her brow, frowning.
"I'm worried about you," he said.
Her gaze, however, was drawn to the long, deep gashes over his shoulder, slowly oozing blood.
"Oh no," she reached out, but her fingers only fluttered above it. "I'm sorry, I should have done more to stop him--"
His hand wrapped about hers.
"Stop. It's nothing."
"You have scars enough because of me!"
"And I love every one of them." He kissed her fingers, then pulled away to slowly stroke them with his thumb.
She was about to ask him what he was thinking, as he had that look, but a particular loud squeak from the babies moved her back to the basket, which was hardly big enough to hold them anymore, now all the size of puppies.
"Alright, alright, your milk is coming."
She had just picked up the first one, a little white girl, when she noticed a flash of color where there hadn't been before.
Half opened, and still a bit gummy, a blue eye looked back up at her from a brown, fuzzy face.
"Oh!"
Vincent appeared in a flash. "What is it?"
"Look! He's opened his eyes."
Putting the white girl down, and offending her immensely, she reached out for the little boy and raised him to eye-level, desperate to see that spark of recognition.
He hung in her hand like a floppy stuffed animal, nose twitching, ears still soft and pressed against his back. He blinked slowly once.
They were rabbit eyes. Sleepy, dull rabbit eyes.
The hollow inside of her went sour and it took all her self-control to not drop him then and there.
Sensing something amiss, Vincent's stutter returned as he tried to tell her that the boy would grow quick, that he would recognize her more by scent, that once the eyes were open all the way they could be weaned.
But Shay could only sit there and stare. Eventually, the larger of the baby rabbits had scrabbled over the edge of their basket and flopped about her, drawn by her scent. The feeling of warm, fuzzy bodies snuffling about her pinged in the darkness inside her, like little candles.
"Don't apologize for them," she finally managed to say. "It's not them, it's me. They're perfect. They're beautiful and wonderful."
Vincent stroked her hair, at a loss for what to do.
She went back to her constant nursing and the day passed. She somehow managed to get Vincent cleaned up while managing babies. Neara made an appearance with her own young, who already had their eyes open, all a dark black, and were constantly getting into her wheat stores to nibble on kernels. Shay wanted to rant to her about Harvey, but found herself oddly not caring anymore. She just wanted to go to sleep in a corner forever. Or under the sun, preferably, as she struggled to feel warm with what little fat she had left.
So tired...
Neara pulled her back awake.
"Maybe they're always hungry because you're not giving enough milk," said Neara. "Maybe that's why you're so tired...my milk is still in, why don't you give them to me to finish off?"
"You hardly have anything on you as it is," said Shay flatly.
Neara pouted. "I had to nurse six, you're nursing fourteen. Don't be stupid-stubborn."
"Won't they think you're their mom then?"
"Yeah, because a few days nursing from me would make them forget the over a week nursing off you."
"...I'll let you have them for a few hours of the day, how about that?"
"We don't have clocks here, but okay."
"Neara..."
"Yeah?"
"...I just want to curl up on the floor and die..."
Neara bit her lip and slowly sank to the floor beside her. "Do you really want to die, or just... stop existing?"
Shay felt the emotion of crying, but her eyes felt empty. "Stop existing... isn't it all the same thing?"
Neara shook her head. "No. It's not. I think..." She paused and Shay couldn't muster the energy to look at her friend, to gage what she was thinking. All that existed seemed to be the small patch of fire-lit floor. The babies squeaked in the background, but she couldn't think about that now.
When had she gotten so weak and tired? Two crystals... and she'd even stopped losing weight. Shouldn't that be enough?
"Remember when I gave birth and we were at the Tiger Castle... that fight we had?" Her voice sounded timid.
"How could I forget? Worst I've ever felt was leaving the gates and not seeing you again to apologize or... whatever."
"And you said I was depressed?"
"Probably. I don't remember, dude, a lot has happened since then."
"I think you're depressed."
If anything, she felt emptier. The words clinked against her soul like coins in an empty wishing well. She wished she could feel something. She wished she could see her mates. She wanted Thumb.
Neara continued, "I don't care how much we have to thrash Harvey, you need some time outside in the sun. It'll help. And I'll be over here all the time when I'm not baking; I'll schedule everything around being here. The babies are basically weaned, I can come here and help..."
"I can't take you away from your mate and kids, Neara. That wouldn't be fair to them."
"It wouldn't be fair to you either. Shay, if you stay like this, who knows what will happen?"
"I'll just wither away and die. That's just all there is to it. I've been giving everything to these babies in hopes-" she paused, her throat closing off. Her chest felt tight, like newly washed jeans; maybe it used to fit her, but not anymore. She felt swollen and stiff, puffy and bloated with sadness and fear. She couldn't even ask for help. Her breath left her in a whoosh, but she couldn't seem to get it back. Was she breathing too fast or not? The air skipped in and out of her lungs, but most of it seemed to go to her head. Everything was spinning.
"Shay!" Or, at least, she thought that's what she said. It was still so hard to think. Was it? Wasn't this a thought? Something cold and damp pressed against her face and her chest. The shock seemed to dissolve the lump in her throat and she gasped for air.
"You're ok. You're safe. We're here, in the Rabbit Village, there is fire in the- not now, Vincent, leave us alone. I'm not kidding, she can't be crowded right now. Take the babies out. Now. Freaking heck, Vincent, just do it! I'll chuck them in the fire, so help me Rabbit god, I'll do it."
The room slowly drifted to a stop with a click. The only noises were the crackling of the fire and her raspy breath. Why was it so raspy? Her chest felt cold and she pressed a hand to it, feeling the rough texture of soaked leather. She pulled it off with a questioning look.
"I... didn't know what else to do." Neara said nervously. "You were having a-"
"I know what I was having." Shay sighed and scolded herself. "I'm sorry. I've just been feeling... I don't even know how to say it... overwhelmed isn't the right word."
"Empty?"
"Not even so much that, although I have been feeling empty, it's like I just-" She waited for the words to come, but nothing happened. What happened to the slang bank she was so proud of?
"Devoid of purpose? Like your life has no meaning outside of your ability to nurse these weird animals, like you're a pervert of nature for even thinking of bringing wild animals to your boobs and even though you gave birth, they're not your babies, they're some random animals picked up from the forest floor or something and your real babies are out there somewhere, or you doubt whether or not you had a legitimate pregnancy or not since everyone says these are your babies, but you don't feel a connection with them... and maybe you never will?"
Damn. That was it exactly. Was Neara really feeling all that back at Beast City? Her heart fell as she remembered how harsh she'd been to her. In her family, mental illness was a sign of weakness, something you got over, something you just... ignored. She'd tried to be open-minded, but she guessed some of that trauma was still there. Ugh, now she felt guilty on top of everything else. At least she felt something, at any rate.
"How did you know?"
"It's how I felt after the lambs." Neara rubbed the back of her head and Shay saw her sneaking a finger into her curls. "I felt abandoned and like I'd never be happy again. I felt empty, like nothing mattered except me nursing the babies, like my only purpose in life had been... compromised. I don't know the right words, like my path had just disappeared. Normally I have a plan, where I'm going, everything has a place and a set reason for existing, but suddenly it felt like I dropped off the map. And nobody was looking for me."
That made sense.
"Why didn't you... say anything?"
"Because when I was off the map, it was like I couldn't think. Like even my thoughts were off the map."
"Fair enough. I guess I'm just weirded out that I didn't notice anything other than the fact you were depressed. I'm sorry."
"Don't... you didn't know. Heck, the only reason I know is because I experienced it myself, otherwise I might have acted just like you." Her voice sounded apologetic. "I know it's not going to get better for a long time, maybe for longer than you think. But just know it-" she paused and reached out for the damp leather, placing it back into the bowl of water by her side. "-it does get better. Not by having another bunch of kids, although that happens boom-boom-boom, but one of these days you look up and you realize you felt happy. It's like the dawn breaking over the horizon, gradual and before you know it, it's light."
Shay started a slow clap. "That was pretty beautiful. Five stars. You thinking of being the beast world's first poet?" Her attempts at flippancy felt hollow, even to her. Neara had to notice it.
"Ha, like they'd appreciate poetry." Neara blushed though, unused to accepting compliments.
"Well, ok. I feel a tiny bit better. Like, miniscule. It helped, though. It's good to know it ends. Even if I don't know what I'm doing, and even if you're lost in tiger la-la-land, we can at least be lost together."
Neara embraced her, clutching tightly as if to cement their friendship, as if she could force happiness into her. That's how it felt, anyway. Friendship felt a lot like not being able to breathe.
"I'll be back soon. And I'm taking the babies..."
She'd barely finished talking when Vincent burst into the room, shoving the basket into Neara's arms.
The moment she was gone, taking Shay's squalling babies with her, Vincent was upon Shay, engulfing her in his bulging arms.
"Don't die..." he said, very quietly.
She felt a pang. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
He said nothing, face buried in the curve of her neck, his ears falling around her jawline like a warm, fuzzy collar.
She sighed and went to petting the ears back and down the back of his neck. As she did so, she felt him shiver.
"I've..." he hesitated, before pushing. "I've heard of this...after birth sadness in females, but I never knew it could get so bad."
"Oh yeah," said Shay. "I've heard of some women going straight out crazy from it and killing their babies." He jerked. "But I am NOT going to do that, I assure you."
He said nothing, only giving her a squeeze.
"As long as you don't die..." he whispered.
She didn't like that. She didn't like that at all.
She gave him a light whap on the head, shocking him off her.
"Don't talk that way about your babies. You're going to be all they have soon."
Her words made him recoil further, as though she had struck him with all the strength of a bull just then. His eyes grew positively chibi and bright, before he ducked his head to hide his face behind ears.
Already feeling guilty, but for no real good reason, she gave one of the many sighs this place seemed to take from her. Before birth her heart would have ached for him, but in her numbness she could only feel an echo of it, brimmed with irritation that appalled her. So, instead of listening to what she couldn't feel, she listened to what she wanted to be, wanted to do, and hugged him hard, wishing she could love him as he deserved to be.
Eventually, she did get outside and into the sun, encouraged by Vincent himself who had heard that sun could help. He even laid out his special rabbit blanket on top of the hill for her to lay on, ignoring the glares of the passing Henry. A drowsy silver dragon followed after, weaving through the grass like a snake rather than use his little legs. Asher was a light sleeper, and the constant waking of the baby rabbits left him almost as exhausted as Shay, especially since he couldn't stand being more than ten feet apart from her.
Vincent, who had grown used to Asher, didn't react when the dragon slithered onto his precious blanket and curled himself against Shay's head to go back asleep.
It wasn't long before she herself fell asleep.
Her dreams came like shredded garments, fluttering down and overlapping one another; a mess of colors and images. A steady sense of gloom, stress, and dismay followed them all.
She only half-woke up during a conversation between Harvey and Vincent, and only because they had to be loud enough to hear each other from the distance they put between them. Her heavy sleeping held through to the end. It was something about treating her postpartum depression, something including salt and music, but she didn't care enough to stay awake to ask more once it fell quiet again.
The days flowed quietly after that. Harvey kept his distance from Vincent, though he seemed to have calmed down now that he was able to get the violence out of his system and had returned to his normal quiet, calm self, so Vincent allowed him close enough after three days to do a general check up on her and feed her some medicine he'd made. It tasted like pine needles and grass, but she didn't complain. She was just happy Harvey was talking to her again.
Vincent tried to get her out of the hobbit hole as much as possible, with or without the squirmy fuzzy bunnies snuggling about her for milk. The warm, spring sun helped push back the nightmares and soothed her uneasiness at the raw emptiness within her.
After four days, all her rabbits had their eyes opened and upon the wide world, all a brilliant shade of sky blue. What she had missed in her son she began to see in the way they cocked their heads at her voice. When one finally met her gaze, with a steadiness uncanny to any animal, she thought she felt her sleepy heart stir.
But she shouldn't try to love them anyways. Now that their eyes were open they were eating grains and other fruits offered to them by the overexcited males of the bunny tribe. Where the others, including the Captain, had kept their distance before through some unspoken rule, Shay now couldn't get rid of them. Like overexcited uncles, one or two other rabbits always filled her home or crowded about her outside, picking up babies to nuzzle and click at, glowing with happiness brighter than the sun.
And yet, Shay found she didn't mind. Quite the opposite. Their utter delight in her furry children soothed and stirred her even further until she found herself able to smile and, even, begin to think that perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing to exist.
Even the Captain, who had always embodied stiff protocol like a British uniform, lit up as he held a squirming bundle of fur.
"Thank you," he said, eyes only for the little brown girl in his hands. "Thank you."
She wondered if Harvey, who sat a ways away, had heard that. She hoped, by now, he would have forgiven her a bit. Yes, he would never say he was angry at her for what had happened, but Shay still felt there was something unspoken. Something like how she hadn't just held out long enough for them to get to her, or had enough faith in her own mates to keep her legs closed.
...No. Perhaps that was just herself who thought that. Perhaps it was forgiving herself that was the problem, not Harvey.
Neara's young, who were already clumsily hopping (or more like tripping) themselves through the fields brought them even more delight, if possible. Shay caught Aetius trying to engage in a play race with some of his sons, to the chagrin of a watching Neara.
All the while, Vincent stuck to her side, watching on quietly.
On an evening at the end of the week, seventeen days after the young were born, Shay finally found herself alone with Neara. Alone alone, not just pretending to be while some rabbit listened in at the door with their damn super hearing. Though Asher had a pile of particularly fat grubs to
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