A/N: It's been a bit. It will be a bit until the next upload after this. Oh well, it will always come eventually. Someone on Ao3 asked for fluffy angst, and this is the closest idea I had. Thank you to @Questionable_422 for being my beta reader! 

Word Count: 4.5k (new record!!)

(btw, Gibby is pronounced phonetically and Tamu is pronounce "Tam-oo")

Rek had arrived at his brother's base, mentally prepared to have to deal with Branzy and Clown's chaotic child. He had volunteered to babysit Gibby after helping her out with arts and crafts, glad to be able to help out the two struggling parents. Knocking on the door lightly, the man shifted back and forth on his feet from the cold dampness of the cave where the base was located. Because of the fact the two had another base in the mountains, he wasn't actually sure he was at the right base until the door swung open.

     He was greeted by a very tired looking Branzy, who cracked a smile and waved his brother in. "Hey man, how's it going?"

     "Pretty good," Rek answered. It was much warmer inside the base, he noticed with relief. "Apparently Gibby needs help with crafting?"

     "Yeah, she's making gifts for us so she won't let us help, but we won't let her use the crafting stuff unsupervised," Branzy explained.

     "Ah okay," he said, taking off his boots.

     He left them by the door as the two men made their way into the living room. The other two members of the household were there, Clown half asleep on the sofa and Gibby practically shivering with energy as she bounced up and down on the recliner chair. When she saw Rek her face lit up, and she jumped off the chair and ran up to him.

     "Uncle Whek!" The six year old exclaimed, tackling him into a brief hug.

     "Hey Gibby," he said, ruffling her messy shoulder-length brown hair.

     "Is it true you're gonna babysit me?" She asked urgently, as if unsure of the reliability of the information.

     He chuckled a little and responded, "Yeah, why wouldn't it be true?"

     "I dunno," was her answer. She looked a bit sheepish at doubting the fact, before perking up and asking, "Will you help me with some crafting? I wanna make a surprise for my dads but they won't let me use the crafting room alone."

     "Sure," Rek agreed. "So what are we gonna be making?"

     Gibby glared at him, making a gesture at her two parents.

     "Oh right, surprise," he said with a little bit of guilt, somehow forgetting the two the surprise was for were literally still in the room.

     Branzy laughed at him tiredly before asking, "You know where the crafting room is, right?"

     Rek was about to respond with the affirmative, but Gibby cut in with all the conversation skills of the six-year old she was. "I know where it is!" She exclaimed, tugging at one of Rek's hands with all seven of her remaining fingers. "I'll show you!"

     "Alright," the man accepted, despite already knowing where it was.

     He let Gibby tug him out of the room, Branzy calling after them, "Don't let her use any of the tools." Rek gave him a thumbs up with his free hand before the uncle and niece disappeared from the doorframe.

     Once he was sure they were out of earshot of the married couple, Rek asked again, "What do you want to make?"

     "I'm gonna make my dads wings!" She exclaimed as they entered the crafting room, gesturing wildly to the pile of feathers amassed in the corner.

     As she brought the chicken feathers over to the main table armful by armful, Rek asked, "any particular reason?"

     "Okay so," she started, dropping some feathers on the wooden surface, "I saw this reaaaaaally pretty birdman! He had wings and they were all rainbow colors! Not in the right order, though. Then I told dada about him and he got all worried and asked me if I talked to birdman, which I didn't 'cause stranger danger! That seemed to make dada not worried, but I asked him why he was so worried in the first place. Then he said that birdman is one of the bad guys, which makes me kind of sad."

     "So you're making them wings like Parr- Like birdman?" Rek asked.

     "Yeah! And that way if the bad guys try to hurt my dads, they can just fly away with their wings!" It seemed to her a fool-proof plan, and the man didn't have the heart to tell her that flying was banned on the server (Parrot's wings were purely an inconvenience to him).

     Gibby finished bringing over feathers, then paused and asked, "Uncle Whek, how do you make wings?"

     "Well," Rek struggled momentarily, as he didn't know if the kid was smart enough to tell if the wings they made wouldn't actually be able to fly. "Well, why don't you start by picking out some colors to dye the feathers."

Meanwhile, Branzy and Clown were cuddling on the couch, too tired to do much else. Even now they were spacing out. Branzy was leaning against his husband, his head on Clown's shoulder, and looked to an outside observer to be almost asleep. In fact he was drifting in and out of consciousness as the exhaustion of caring for a child with a seemingly infinite amount of energy caught up to him. He eventually fell asleep properly, snoring lightly.

     Clown would have normally found it irritating, but Branzy's snores were actually adorable little hums as he exhaled. The man rearranged his sleeping beloved so the other was lying down with his head in Clown's lap, using it as a pillow. He combed through Branzy's shoulder length silver hair with his fingers, gently working the knots out as he waited for Gibby and Rek to be done with whatever surprise the little girl had been so excited about.

     After a while Clown too began to nod off, and he fell asleep sitting up, hand resting in his partner's hair. Half an hour passed as they both napped fitfully, only disturbed when Clown was lightly tapped on the shoulder.

     "We're done," Rek said softly as Clown dragged himself back from unconsciousness. "Gibby wants to come and surprise the both of you at the same time."

     "Alright," the now conscious father responded, gently prodding the other awake. Branzy lifted his head for a second, then let it fall back into Clown's lap as Rek left the room to get the child. He was awake now, although he looked light he might drift back to sleep soon.

     Their daughter exploded into the room in a shower of energy, failing to hide what looked like a bunch of dyed feathers behind her back. Seeing them looking at her, she squealed, "Close your eyes!"

     The couple did as they were told, Clown grabbing and squeezing Branzy's hand to prevent him from falling asleep again. Gibby, after checking to see that their eyes were truly closed, skipped over to the sofa. She carefully put the dark red, vaguely wing shaped bundle of feathers in Clowns free hand, and a similar grouping of purple feathers across Branzy's chest, as he was still lying down.

     "You can open your eyes!" She cried, skipping back to hide behind Rek as if she wasn't sure how they would react.

     They of course reacted with huge amounts of surprise, because they definitely hadn't seen the wings when she came in, and definitely couldn't tell what they were from how the feathers felt. Branzy sat up, holding the wings up to the light before placing them to the side and holding his arms open for a hug.

     Gibby ran back across the room and into her dada's arms, asking urgently if Branzy liked them.

     "Of course, they're really pretty," he responded, only half lying. He would like most anything the girl made, unless it was another mud pie in the house. Clown answered in much the same way, with the same unsaid reasoning behind it. Gibby went and gave Clown a hug, before realizing she forgot to give Rek a hug, too.

     She didn't have to run across the room this time because Rek had moved to the arm chair to watch the proceedings more easily, so Gibby was able to immediately give her uncle a hug. "Thanks for helping me Uncle Whek!"

     "No problem," he laughed.

     Gibby soon wandered off, and the adults talked for a while, going over bed time and similar rules the kid had to follow. Rek double checked that no, Gibby didn't have any allergies several times, just to be completely sure. They had agreed beforehand to have him babysit for a week, so the two husbands could catch up on some sleep, relax, and dedicate some time to each other.

     Eventually, Branzy and Clown decided it was time to head out. Branzy called Gibby back from the other room where she had been playing with who knows what (one time they caught her having a full-blown conversation with the wall when she had been put in time out). They explained to her that they were gonna go on a vacation for a week, and that was why Rek would be taking care of her.

     "Okay!" Gibby agreed, even though she didn't have any real agency in the matter. "Don't forget to put your wings on so you'll be safe."

     The two nodded seriously as Rek barely contained a laugh, heading over to the couch to get the misshapen bundles of feathers. Clown and Branzy helped each other into the diamond gear that would actually bolster their safety, they weren't going to go out without it on Lifesteal, wings or not. Rek came back with the feathers and there was a couple minutes of struggling as the three tried to figure out how to put them on over the armor, several of their failed attempts leading Gibby to fits of laughter.

It was a bit of a journey to the other base, Branzy and Clown had to cross both the mesa of their first base and some plains before reaching the mountains. It took several hours, but eventually they reached a little log cabin tucked away in the valley of two peaks, hidden from the server. It was late afternoon when they arrived, but the cabin was hidden in shadow because of the surrounding peaks, making it feel like evening.

     The two stepped into the dark house, receiving twin communicator messages that floated in front of them, slightly lighting up the surrounding air with a blue glow.

     Alternate spawn point detected --> Set your spawn here?

     Branzy hit yes, and saw Clown do the same. Once they responded, the messages dissipated, returning the cabin to its completely darkened state. The lack of light made the room feel even colder, causing Branzy to shiver, but a small flame sputtered up, the taller having pulled out a match and lit it, holding the large splinter of wood pinched between his gloved pointer finger and thumb. Branzy found one of the ceiling lamps and guided his partner's hand to it, to give the place some proper illumination. Clown lit the lamp, and in the new swell of light had no trouble finding the others that hung from the wooden beams that criss-crossed the cabin's ceiling for support.

     Branzy went into the kitchen and tried to turn on the sink to see if the water system had finally decided to work without needing fixing first. Given how no water flowed from the spout, there must be yet another problem with the hastily designed system, like every time the two had visited the cabin. He sighed with annoyance at the familiar issue, heading back to the main room.

     Clown had managed to light all the lamps, but it was still dreadfully cold, so he was in the process of stacking wood and twigs in the fireplace to build up a fire. Branzy crossed over back to the little entryway where their heavy coats and pants were hung in a closet beside the door, the furs always left at the cabin because that was the only place where they were needed.

     He got out of his heavy diamond armor and replaced it with multiple layers of furs, probably a few more than was strictly necessary, but Branzy hated being cold. The gear was tossed haphazardly onto the floor, but the wings Gibby and Rek had made were hung carefully in the closet, where he saw the red of Clown's wings were already hanging.

     Redstone supplies from the same closet in hand, he left the house, trekking across the snow to a metal box the size and shape of a small industrial freezer, which did not fit with the wood cabin aesthetic but was necessary to keep all the redstone sheltered.

     He spent ten or fifteen minutes inspecting the redstone for the failure, wondering when he was ever going to remake the system. He might do it this week actually, now that he thought about it, Rek was providing the two with a long enough break that Branzy would have the time. For now, though, he found the problem, a thin wire filled with redstone dust had been broken and the dust dragged around by what must have been a small animal seeking shelter. He simply replaced the wire with an intact one, carefully unscrewing one end and attaching it to another wire, before doing the same with the other end, one end at a time so as not to spill the powder from the thin tube.

     After cleaning up the spilled redstone dust from the old wire Branzy closed the medal box and after a moment's thought tied the handles together with the useless wire to prevent more critters from slipping in. He turned back to the cabin, seeing warm light shining through the almost closed shutters of a window accompanying the door. Once at the door the ripples and imperfections in the glass were apparent, the glass had been intentionally left that way to fit the cabin (the husbands had been really into the designing aspect of building when they had originally planned the base).

     Branzy entered into the now fully lit and slowly warming cabin. It was far too warm now in his various coats, so he took them off and tossed them haphazardly into the closet to hang up later. He was definitely in the habit of just throwing stuff on the floor instead of hanging it up.

     He left the little entryway to see Clown sitting in front of the newly lit fire, staring into it despondently. His mask was off, revealing his expression, but Branzy wouldn't have needed to see his face to detect the other's dismal mood. He was picking methodically at the fabric of his scarlet gloves, pulling each finger out slightly and then pulling the entire glove back down from the cuff in subconscious fiddling Branzy had come to recognize meant his partner was stressed or scared.

     "What happened?" Branzy asked, skipping over "are you okay" because something was clearly wrong.

     "Nothing happened," he answered, then, realizing that was hard to believe, added, "I guess I'm just... Worried. I'm worried about her."

     "Me too," Branzy admitted. Gibby was a child on Lifesteal, it was impossible not to worry about her with how dangerous the world was. He took Clown's hands in his, removing the gloves that he had been picking at. His husband only seemed to notice that he had been fiddling when he was forced to stop, a little surprised. Branzy added, "But she's with Rek, the most insanely careful person ever, remember?"

     "Yeah," Clown smiled faintly at their intertwined hands. "I know, but I'm still worried, I don't really know why."

     The constant paranoia Lifesteal induces in people was striking again, Branzy figured. He probably just needed some reassurance. "Well, do you trust my judgment?"

     "The same judgment that led to you pushing me off a cliff to test Parrot's theory of gravity?" Clown raised an eyebrow.

     "That was ages ago!" Branzy protested with a little laugh. This was a comfortable argument, the kind they've had countless times and would likely repeat jokingly for the rest of their lives. The kind of argument that no one was out to win, that was just held for the familiarity and humor of it.

     "You broke my arm!" Clown said, and although it was a joke now, he had understandably been pissed at the time. It was one of the rare instances he had been truly angry at his husband.

     "But then I fixed it, so you're welcome."

     "Why would I thank you if you were the one who broke it in the first place?" He asked flippantly.

     "Oh hush," Branzy cut off the rest of the discussion by leaning in and kissing the other on the lips. After a long couple seconds, he pulled back and expectantly raised an eyebrow.

     "Alright fine, I'll trust your judgment," Clown said, heaving a fake sigh as he circled back to the part of the conversation before the good-natured quarreling.

     "So you'll trust me when I say things are gonna turn out okay?" He squeezed his husband's hands as further reassurance, just in case the distraction of the familiar argument and Branzy's presence hadn't been enough to take his mind off the paranoia.

     There was only one right answer, and right now, it was the true one for Clown. He smiled a little and agreed, "Yeah."

     "Good," Branzy said, giving him a radiant grin, then a quick peck of a kiss. He stood, pulling Clown up with him because their hands were still intertwined. "Come on, we've gotta make some sandwiches for dinner."

     Clown pulled a face at the idea of sandwiches, but didn't stop Branzy from pulling him off the couch. He quickly scooped his mask back up and put it on, still not entirely used to having it off, even after all the time he spent with the other. "Do we have the stuff for burritos instead?"

     "Yeah probably, let's check," Branzy replied, letting one of his partner's hands go, but still dragging Clown gently towards the kitchen with the other.

"Milly is a stupid name for a duck," Gibby said stubbornly.

     Rek sighed, he had forgotten how tiresome the kid's headstrong opinions could be, a forgetfulness that had definitely been helped along by how adorable and angelic she could be when she wanted to. "I didn't name the duck," he waved the storybook at her, "The author of the book did."

     "They gave her a stupid name," she reiterated for the umpteenth time.

     "What would you have named her?" Rek asked, trying to find a way out of the situation so he could finish the book and put the kid to bed.

     Gibby opened her mouth, then shut it a second later without saying anything.

     "See: Naming character isn't that easy so you can't really blame the author for it," he said, his tone level and reasonable, but internally he was a little smug at having stumped her. He sighed again when he realized he had just been proud at beating a kid at an irrelevant debate, good going Rek.

     "Well I wouldn't have named the duck Milly," she said firmly. "It's a stupid name for a duck."

     "You've said," Rek said tiredly. It gets even worse when you know Milly is short for Mildred.

     He managed to finish the book by substituting the phrase 'the duck' in for 'Milly' as he read it aloud, avoiding any further arguments on the name. When the story was done he tucked Gibby into bed and left the room, turning off the light.

     Once out in the hallway Rek exhaled slowly, glad to be away from the kid's chaos for the night. Unless she woke up and decided to get a snack. Rek prayed that wouldn't happen, dealing with her was exhausting and now he understood why the two parents had been so eager for a break.

     Rek paused in the hallway, several beeps coming from his communicator. They were higher pitched than the beeps indicating personal messages, but the public chat could still be rather interesting, so he opened it up. The blue holographic chat messages appeared in the air silently upon demand. The man read them over once, twice. Then Rek swore.

The events that