And You Said Yes

by Vivid Syntax

Rest

Rivet kissed the top of Fashion Plate’s head. “Wanna know what I find craziest about it all?”

“I can only guess, love.”

“We went through the same roller coaster with Glamor and Spotlight, too. Each time thinking that we wouldn’t be able to do it, to add another foal. But when we saw them, we knew right away that we’d done the right thing.”

Rivet could hear Fashion Plate’s smirk in his voice. “To be fair, you were threatening to geld yourself a month into parenthood.”

“Hahaha!” Rivet bellowed. “That was more due to the circumstances.”

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Your mother and my parents were all angels during those first few weeks.

If angels were pushy know-it-alls with opinions about everything.

Right. But we needed them all the same. Tartarus, my parents were so happy that their gay son had actually given them a grandfoal, they probably would have sold their house if we’d asked.

That whole first month is a warm, fuzzy blur. We tried to have a schedule so that both of us could sleep and take shifts, but Forge threw a new wrench at us every two hours.

What bothered me most was the half-finished wooden trim in the guest room.

That's what bothered you most?

Mmhm. Every time I walked past the pile of tools and cut wood, it reminded me that I wasn't able to do it all. I'd left a project unfinished. I hated that. It made my back tingle and my jaw tighten just walking past the doorway.

On your way to take care of our screaming colt, you mean.

Right. And I kept thinking, "What if he wiggles his way to my tools? What if he hurts himself because I'm too damn tired to clean up?" And every time I saw him, I'd grit my teeth and tell him I'd do it for him. I'd do anything for our family.

But there's a big gulf between "anything" and "everything," and foals need both.

It was a day about four weeks in, I think. Our parents were over to help, all of them at once, which turned into a whole production. I had to pass on all the information we’d learned from Forge’s last pediatrician visit, and you’d wisely passed out about forty minutes prior.

I came downstairs to the family room with a bucket of finishing nails, telling myself that at least I’d cleaned up that much. It felt like admitting defeat. And the idea of fishing them out again in the future was like staring down a mountain. I was just so damn tired… Even that little bucket felt like it weighed as much as me.

Your mom cradled Forge, who was asleep but fidgety. She gave me that wide smile that I love on you but that always made my stomach drop when she did it. “There’s our star. Hanging in there, Riv?”

“Hm…?” My eyes blinked out of sync with one another.

She nodded down at Forge. "He's going to be hungry. He's a big colt, so you should probably try to keep a bottle nearby. You really can't overfeed them at this stage."

"Yes, ma'am," I grunted through a yawn.

"Haha! I told you, Riv, Dazzle is fine. Or mom if you don't think Iris will be offended." Forge stirred in her hooves. "He might be waking up." She rubbed his face with her nose. "Who's a hungry colt? It's you. It's you!"

Just then, Iris popped her head through the kitchen doorway and waved. "Hi, son! I did a few dishes, but I don't know where the pans go. Can you show me?"

With a lurch, I replied, "You can leave them on the drying rack, mom." Dazzle looked up, but then she went back to nuzzling Forge.

For a second, I couldn’t remember where I was or why I was holding my bucket of nails.

The living room conversation seemed done, so I walked to the kitchen, trying to remember whether I’d told my mom I would take care of it. Like a robot, I grabbed some of the milk Maple had bagged for us, pulled out a bowl, and ran some hot water to warm it up.

Iris dried another pan. "Heating up another bottle? He's not even awake, is he?"

"He's a big colt," I mumbled, echoing Dazzle. My eyes drooped.

"Right, and do what you think is best, but your milk supply isn't unlimited." She set the pan on the counter. "Natural milk is a lot better than formula, but it's only good for an hour or so once you heat it up. You don't want Forge getting sick, but it's always tempting to push the boundaries of how long it can go, which can be dangerous."

I shut off the water. I’d only heard about every third word. "So I should wait, then?"

Mom nodded. "I would."

I sighed. "Okay."

The bag ended up going bad anyway, because I forgot to put it back in the fridge.

She saw the nails I was carrying. "Why don't you get your dad to help you put that away. He's just reading the paper and getting angry at the world anyway." She leaned over to the opposite doorway. "Hey, Onyx? Rivet could use a hoof."

Dad called out, “C’mon in, son.”

My march continued into the study. I still held onto the nails. “Hi, dad. Could you help me put some of this stuff away?”

He looked over the paper, paused, then folded it. “Sure, but I’m a little concerned about why you have a bunch of nails lying around in the first place.” His face flattened.

My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know how much further down they could go. “I’ve been trying to get around to it. I’d almost finished when we got word that Maple was in labor and–”

“Son, you can’t be leaving things around like that.” He stood up. “It might not look it, but Forge could start moving any time if he’s an early bloomer. You don’t want him swallowing something small like that, do you?”

“No, dad.” I took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m cleaning up now.”

“Should have cleaned up sooner.” He sighed, annoyed. “But yeah, I’ll help you out. Lemme just grab my water from the fridge.” He walked back into the kitchen, and I followed.

Then Forge started crying his hungry cry. The whole group of us (with me at the back) migrated to the family room to see what was happening. I dragged my hooves and got a stern look from my dad.

My mom looked at me with soft eyes as we entered. “He’s crying for you, Rivet. He wants his daddy.”

I moved towards the couch where Forge was crying. Every little fiber of my body wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know if I could do it. I’d done it a hundred times already, but I was just… empty. My stomach felt iced over.

Dazzle looked up from him and spoke with absurd diction so I’d hear her. “Did you bring the milk? He seems pretty hungry.”

I pivoted in place towards the kitchen. The nails rattled in the can I was still holding. The ice worked its way up my spine.

Dad stepped in front of me. “Gonna need to wash your hooves real good, son. And be one-hundred-percent sure you don’t have any stray nails in your fur.”

The back of my neck felt cold. I turned towards the bathroom.

Mom spoke up over Forge. “Oh, at least give him a quick kiss! Let him know you’ll be right back.”

My throat sealed up. My fetlock was getting stiff from holding the nails. I turned back towards Forge.

And that was about when I lost track of who was talking. Their voices filled the room, talking louder and louder to be heard over Forge’s cries.

“Do you have any ready-made formula?”
“Gotta put his safety first, always.”
“Poor little guy needs you.”
“Has he been eating like the doctor said he would?”
“Where was that bag you had earlier?”
“You should hold him.”
“You should get him some food.”
“You should make sure he doesn’t have a fever.”
“You need to–”

I slammed the can of nails on the table.

It went as silent as it could with a crying baby in the room. Three sets of eyes fell on me like a barrel full of bricks.

And mine were on our son. I felt like a puppet with cut strings. The cold had made it all the way to my brain, and the silence hung there for Luna knows how long. To him, and only him, I squeaked, “I’m sorry, I–”

I couldn’t finish. I turned and walked up the stairs. None of our parents said anything to me, but as soon as I rounded the corner, they were back at it.

Forge’s cries stabbed through my heart, but I had nothing left. I told myself he was in much, much more capable hooves. After all, they were experts who knew what the fuck they were doing, and I’d just screw it up if I tried to walk down there again. After all, I couldn’t do something as simple as put a bucket of nails away.

My whole body was stiff. I trudged past the guest bedroom. Again. And it hurt to see my tools there. Again.

I stumbled into our bedroom. You groaned and snuggled back under the covers. I didn’t say anything, just flopped face-down onto my pillow.

That got you to stir. With my face buried like that, I couldn’t see you. But I heard your voice. It sounded like you’d been on a four-day bender and were just hitting the hangover, but I couldn’t blame you. “Sweetie? What’s wrong?”

My body tightened up. I was holding it all in. I felt frozen over, like if I let anything crack, I would shatter.

“Papa Bear?” You set a gentle hoof on me and stroked my mane. “You can tell me. I’m here.”

And shatter I did.

I just… wailed into my pillow. I don’t even know if I was making sense. I was screaming about how, “I can’t do it! There’s too much! I’m sorry! I’m a failure! Forge deserves somepony better. You deserve somepony better. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m ruining our boy. I love him so much. I can’t do it. I’m sorry!”

You let me go on until I needed to catch my breath, and you asked softly, “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” I shook my head, trying to tunnel into the bed with my face so I could hide forever. “There’s so much going on, and…” My brain was fried. Nothing made sense..

Your voice took on an edge. “What did they do?” When I didn’t answer, you asked again, stern, “Rivet, what did our parents do?”

I took a shuddering breath and finally looked up. You didn’t have your glasses on, and your eyes were red. Your mane was all askew and sticking to the side, like you’d slept against a wet piece of glass. Your posture was like a scarecrow that had been left out over winter, and despite all that, you were still the handsomest stallion I had ever seen. Even with that wrinkled nose and furrowed brow, you looked so damn cute. “They’re just trying to help.”

“Okay, stepping in,” you sighed as you rolled off the bed.

My gut told me to get up and go with you, but my nerves were too burned out to move. “What are you gonna do?”

As you walked around the bed to the doorway, you stood up taller and set your jaw. “Nopony bullies my husband. I don’t care who they are.” You looked at me. “Just wait here.”

I was too far gone to argue, so I flopped down onto the bed again and sobbed.

You were down there for maybe four minutes. I heard little bits of the conversation – your voice carries, Sparkles – and you weren’t afraid to tell them the truth. Forge had stopped crying, and when I heard you marching up the steps more slowly than usual, I knew you’d taken him with you.

The door opened gently with your magic. You held Forge in your foreleg and cradled him to your chest. I wanted to offer to help, but by the time I mustered the energy, you’d come back around the bed, set him down between us, and sat on the bed yourself. Your voice sounded hoarse. “There. Just the three of us.”

Looking at Forge squirming, uncomfortable… All those feelings of failure came rushing back, and I wanted to cry again.

You waved at me quickly and spoke directly, without your usual flair. You sounded like you hadn’t slept in a week. Which, really, you hadn’t. “Hey. Hey! You can cry in two minutes, but I need you to know something.” You pointed to the door. “Out there? There are ponies that have a lot of experience but who are decades out of practice. It’s like…” Your head shook. “I don’t know. Imagine I came up with a stunningly perfect metaphor about your job.”

I sniffed. “Like a foreman with formal training but no on-site experience?”

“Yes! Precisely!” You slicked your mane back. The hairs stuck every which way. “I knew we still had a couple brain cells to rub together between us.” Carefully, you set a hoof on Forge’s chest. You floated a bottle to his face, and he started sucking. “Look, when it comes down to it, there is exactly one pony you need to listen to for parenting advice.”

My ears drooped. Innocently, I asked, “You?”

You snorted a laugh, which startled Forge for just a moment. “Sweetie, I’m flattered, but no.” You nodded at me. “It’s you. You’re the one that has to make decisions. Yes, we’ll need to work together, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing either.” You narrowed your eyes. “And yes, I’m going to swear in front of him right now. We’ve earned it. The truth is, our parents have never raised a foal as a gay couple before. Precious few of us exist.” You took a breath, softened your eyes, and smiled at me. “You’ll always have me to lean on when somepony needs to be told off, but parenting? You’re the best Celestia-damned parent I know.” You reached over and touched my hoof. “You have the instincts for it. So dig down deep: what are your instincts telling you is most important right now?”

I sat up a little and looked at Forge. He continued suckling happily, and I just watched him. Really watched him. The frozen knot inside my body thawed the more I looked at him, and I felt all the love in the world I have for him. “I…”

You shook your head. “I’m not looking for the right answer, Papa Bear. I’m looking for your answer. What do you think is important? Because I’m too fucking tired to know at this point.”

It hung there in front of me. It seemed so obvious when I was looking at Forge. “He needs to know that he’s safe and loved.”

You nodded. “Good. Good, keep going.”

I slowly reached out and brushed his mane. The new foal smell hit my nose and further undid the knot. “He could probably use a diaper change, but more than that, there’s been a lot of activity today. He needs to know that we’re both still here for him, no matter what.”

You smiled. “That sounds perfect.” You stood up from the bed. “I need to do damage control, but you do that thing you said. I’m letting go of the bottle.” Your magic faded, and I caught it. You smiled at me. “See? You’ve already got the dad reflexes.” You left and shut the door behind you.

I let my hoof rest on Forge’s chest for a moment, but he groaned for his bottle. I sat up with my back against the headboard and cradled him like they showed us in all the books, and I fed him again.

His whole body relaxed as I held him, and he sucked on his bottle like a champ.

I focused on that as much as I could. Even with the loud noises and all the commotion, he felt safe in my embrace, and that meant the world to me. I leaned down and kissed his forehead and smelled more of that special foal smell. And I told him, “Son… Still feels weird saying that word sometimes, but it feels good, too. Son, your dad and I love you more than anything in the world.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how to say that in a way that you’ll understand, but it’s true.”

Forge had slowed down on the bottle.

A tear rolled down my face. “So I’ll keep saying it. I think you can feel it.” I rocked him slowly, like he always liked. “I love you, Fire Forge. I love you with my whole heart, a whole part of me I never knew I had.”

I sang him a lullaby, and soon, Forge was back asleep. You stuck your head in a minute later. “Don’t worry your delightfully stubbly head about it, Papa Bear. I gave them some chores so they’d feel useful. Your dad is going to leave his toolbox organizer here. That way, you can keep the trim replacement supplies in a safe place.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“I’ll come back in a few minutes to change him. Anything you need?”

Fancy big-city unicorn or not, I realized I was looking at the strongest pony in all of Equestria, somepony that would take care of me when I was at my lowest, no matter how sleep-deprived we both were. And I smiled.

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Comments

[Bicyclette]

Your mother and my parents were all angels during those first few weeks.

If angels were pushy know-it-alls with opinions about everything.

oh, parents-in-law! not that i’d know, but i can imagine!

Forge’s cries stabbed through my heart, but I had nothing left. I told myself he was in much, much more capable hooves. After all, they were experts who knew what the fuck they were doing, and I’d just screw it up if I tried to walk down there again. After all, I couldn’t do something as simple as put a bucket of nails away.

and oof, this whole sequence, too! i can just feel how overwhelming this is for Rivet, to have multiple grandparents doing this 

Looking at Forge squirming, uncomfortable… All those feelings of failure came rushing back, and I wanted to cry again.

and oof, i can only imagine how awful that feels. Fashion Plate was right to get so mad!

Your head shook. “I don’t know. Imagine I came up with a stunningly perfect metaphor about your job.”
I sniffed. “Like a foreman with formal training but no on-site experience?”

augh love this exchange

Fancy big-city unicorn or not, I realized I was looking at the strongest pony in all of Equestria, somepony that would take care of me when I was at my lowest, no matter how sleep-deprived we both were. And I smiled.

and this is so true! augh they are so wonderful for each other, and this story is showing that in the best of ways