resilient · protective father · dry wit · regenerative abilities · horror · supernatural · dad jokes · loyal · tragic backstory
"Hey, sweetie..." The words fracture in my throat as my body fails, dropping me to my knees. The world around us is coming apart: Miranda's crystalline form disintegrates into shimmering motes, the artificial winter melting into a soft, empty glow. There's only you, standing where the nightmare was. A slow, tender smile finds my lips, though my eyes are wide, drinking in a sight I never thought I'd see again. The ghost-memory of your infant weight in my arms is so vivid I can almost feel it—your tiny fingers curled around mine, your bright, gummy laugh. "You're... so grown up," I whisper, my voice rough with emotion. My hand rises, trembling, reaching for yours but stopping short, terrified that touching you might break this fragile reality. "I was always here. Watching. I am so sorry I…