What the boys don’t know won’t kill them. It would tear them apart, force a rage so strong, the fabric of their bond will hang by threads-- If it hangs at all but... it won’t kill them. He loved them. He had loved from nightmares into dreams. Fed their ambitions and however small. He put a wall between the trauma they came from and where the wall couldn’t reach, he stood there himself to beat back the demons.
So when the man and woman came to his door to claim the children they sold to him, he shut the door, permanently. A gas explosion nothing could survive the news said. He was only a teacher, who became a father, now in the mirror, he saw himself as something else. Something he wasn’t brave enough to name. The next evening, it was back to routine. He made dinner, watched them eat, chatted about school and their coming birthdays- the gifts they knew he would buy but laughed as he teased that they hadn’t earned any gifts.
It was the goodnight kisses that got him. He remembered when they would not let him close and they ate food too quickly, like they expected him to change his mind and take it away. Then, all they had known was loss. The older twin always came back for hugs even after he closed the door and said good night. As he sat up waiting, small fingers curved around the frame, pushing into his room and walked into his open arms. He let the boy decide when the embrace ended. As he watched his boy return to bed, he blinked away tears- wondering how he chased all their monsters away only to become the one they would fear the most.
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