Damaged Families

[Closed to the canine fathers; that is, Pongo and Tramp. May allow Perdita later, too, if Tramp's okay with that.]
[Also, I think this bit of music fits the atmosphere well at this point: homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/cancerous-core]

October 20th

The night sky was calm and peaceful. One of the few things that was anymore.

He had needed to get out of Agrabah. Ever since Aladdin's take-over, the palace had felt even more stifling than it had before, filled with fear, distrust and suspicion. Anxious to get away from the tension briefly, the dalmatian had decided that Gothel could do without him for a few hours, and set out on the trek back to Africa.

That, and Pongo needed the time to mourn.

Five days ago, as he had found out only belatedly, another of his pups had had his life snatched away prematurely. Dipstick this time. Pongo knew few details, having picked up on it only in passing over the Twilight Bark. Being first and foremost a gossip chain, he knew better than to trust that all the details were one-hundred-percent accurate, however he knew that the basics, at least, wouldn't be that wrong. The terrible weight of certainty had settled on him. Dipstick, like Penny, Lucky, Pepper and Fidget before him, hadn't lived to see his life through to the end of its first year.

His ten surviving birth kids would be celebrating their first birthday now, at least in human years. If there was anything to celebrate, being down by a third of their number.

Pongo could only imagine how devastated poor Perdy must be by so many deaths. She had seemed to be holding up okay when he had seen her in battle a couple weeks ago, but Pongo knew his mate well. The sheer number of losses had to be taking its toll on her, even more than it was on him.

The spotted canine lay on his belly amongst the long African grass. He was alert, his ears pricked for the sound of anyone approaching, but his gaze was on the starry sky. The lions, so he had heard, believed that their dead looked down from the stars, and Pongo couldn't help but hope there was some truth in that for other animals too.

"I'm sorry, Dipstick." A pause. "Pepper. Penny. Fidget. Lucky." His throat felt tight as he thought of each of the deceased children. He hoped they could hear him, if indeed there was some form of existance beyond death. "I wasn't there to protect any of you. I wasn't as good a parent as I should have been." He wished each of them was still alive. No father wanted to outlive any of his children; let alone five of them - and that their deaths had been brought about by this wretched war somehow made the fact infinitely worse than if they had been to die of natural causes.

One black-furred ear twitched. Another animal was moving, in the vicinity but still distant. Pongo slowly turned to look, trying to pick out the other being's shape in the starlit darkness.

[Yes, I'm okay with it.]

Tramp, unaware that anyone else was out and about this night, looked up at the stars, a feeling of nostalgia and sorrow filling him. He'd never been able to look at another starlit sky the same way after he'd found out that Lady, his darling Pidge, was dead. Losing her had devastated him. He'd always held on to the belief that, one day, they'd be able to put their disagreements, and his mistakes, behind them, and get back together. Now, though, that hope was dead.

The grey mutt sighed, and continued on his way. He couldn't let himself shut down like he had after he'd heard about Lady's death. Not again. Not while his children were still fighting in this war.

His gloomy thoughts were interrupted when he caught the sight, and scent of another creature nearby. He paused, and looked closely at it, sniffing the air. A Dalmatian. The tall grass couldn't conceal that. For a moment, Tramp's eyes narrowed, and a low snarl escaped him. He's heard that Patch, the same dog who'd killed Scamp, had come crawling back to the Hero's camp, and he wasn't looking forward to seeing the young dog, even though Scamp's death had been only, miraculously, temporary. But this dog was too big to be Patch.

He walked closer, wondering if maybe Perdita had wandered out into the grassland for some reason. Soon enough, though, he'd gotten close enough to know it wasn't Perdita. He sat down, eying Pongo cautiously. He'd heard different rumors concerning the dog. That he was dead, that he was alive, but gone home, alive and serving the Villains...

"Pongo, isn't it? Weren't you dead?" he asked, a half-smile forming on his face as a bit of his old spirit surfaced. Maybe not the most tactful thing to say, but in this war, sometimes the dead didn't stay that way.

Ah. As Pongo recognised the newcomer, his posture - alert a moment before - relaxed. He had a cloudy recollection of having exchanged notes with the famed Tramp once before; back when his own family had still been whole, what felt like a lifetime ago. "Yes, that's me. And... yes, I suppose I was." Straight into the awkward questions; not that Pongo could really blame the mutt for asking. Seeing someone who had been reported dead as alive again was bound to make anyone wonder.

For a moment, he wondered if he should tell Tramp the whole story; then decided that since Tramp had been honest about his own problems the last time they'd talked, he could at least return the favour. "I was resurected by one of the villains as a personal servant," he confessed. Though since neither Hades nor even Gothel had put him to any work other than menial chores and attending the occasional battle, Pongo had to wonder why; but he wasn't going to question his second chance at life. "With so many of my children still in the war, I had to take the chance that accepting even that life would give me some chance at protecting them."

For all the good that had done. Still, Pongo clung to the hope that he would be able to do more to keep his remaining ten birth children - and eighty-three adopted - alive, if only he could find a way out of his enslavement; one that didn't involve tricking Gothel in commanding him to hurt one of them, which was the only loophole he could find in the deal that had bound him first to Hades, and then to her.

He looked at Tramp once more. "And you?" he asked, trying to divert his mind from his thoughts. "I hope you're having better luck keeping your kids alive than I am."

Tramp relaxed as well when Pongo showed no offense at his question. So, he had been dead. And had been made into a servant for the villains. He nodded when Pongo explained his reasons for accepting the deal. He could relate to that. He himself would have done the same thing for his own family.

The grin disappeared from his face when Pongo changed the course of the conversation. The grey mutt sighed, lowering his eyes. Since they had always been honest with each other, Tramp felt no reason to change that now. And, maybe Pongo would be able to give him some advice. After all, the Dalmatian had lost more of his family than Tramp had. And he still managed to go on with his life.

"No. I've...I've not done a good job. I wasn't able to keep Scamp from getting killed. And it's a miracle he's alive again. And...and...after Pidge died, I...I just shut down. I wasn't there for my children when they needed me," he said. He paused, and took a deep, calming breath to bring his emotions under control. Then, another thought that had been plaguing him for a while now surfaced. "Now, I don't know if they even need me anymore."

And what hurt most about that was they'd all grown to be young adults more than puppies, and he'd missed it. Maybe he should just leave before he failed them again.

"I don't blame you. If something happened to Perdy..." Pongo didn't finish the thought. The idea of his darling Perdita being killed was one that Pongo couldn't bear to think of. He couldn't imagine how Tramp was coping with such grief - other than apparently not well, But Pongo doubted he'd do any better in the same situation. "I did the same when I lost my first pup. My Penny," he admitted. It was true, he'd retreated into himself for weeks following the death of his favourite daughter. And even after he'd found it in himself to keep going, for the sake of the rest of his family, he hadn't been able to keep his kids from dropping like flies. Annabelle, then Rebecca and Lucky, Pepper... Fidget, Dipstick... maybe more that he didn't know about.

He glanced up at Tramp's own confession, sympathetic. He could only imagine how awful it must be, to feel as though your own pups had outgrown you while you weren't looking. Though in truth, Pongo was wondering if the same wasn't happening to him, while he was as good as trapped in Agrabah, missing his own kids' growth. A year old now, and he hadn't talked to a single one of them on their birthday. It was a disconcerting feeling that had to be only the barest fraction of what Tramp was experiencing.

"Have you talked to them about it? They might need you more than you can tell." They might seem as though they were all grown up to outward appearances, but he couldn't help but feel that deep down, some of them might still feel as though their father was someone they still needed. He hoped so, at any rate. Hoped the same was true for his own children as well.

To tell the truth, Tramp was relieved to hear that he wasn't the only one to go into a grief-driven withdrawal. He'd almost expected Pongo to launch into an angry tirade about how irresponsible he was to do so, but maybe that was just his own anger against himself speaking. He still hadn't forgiven himself for disappearing from his kids's lives like that.

"Have you talked to them about it? They might need you more than you can tell."

There it was. The big question. Half-expected though it was, Tramp still flinched when Pongo asked it. He didn't answer for a moment, then sighed, shaking his head.

"I've been too afraid of what they might say. I already lost my son once. I don't think I could stand to lose him again. Or my daughters," he said, his words choking up. His daughters still reminded him so much of their mother. At least, Dani, Cole, and Annie did. If he lost his children, he didn't know what he'd have left to live for.

"Maybe you have to brave that anyway?" The dalmatian was sympathetic to his fellow canine's plight, of course, and it could be heard in his tone; but Pongo also felt that Tramp was doing either them or himself any favours by being too scared to approach his pups. "All I can say is that you'll never know unless you try and talk to each of them." And him, sounding like he was trying to be the voice of wisdom; Pongo almost shook his head at that. Instead, he pressed on talking.

"You've got... four, wasn't it? I'd be surprised if at least half of them didn't still need you; maybe more." Of course, Pongo didn't know any of the pups in question half as well as Tramp did, but his gut instinct was that there was no way that all of Tramp's pups would reject him. Of course, finding which ones would and which wouldn't was still bound to be a painful process, there was no denying that. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but when you find the ones who do want you back, won't that feel as though it's been worth it?"

If only he could think so rationally about his own pups. Pongo couldn't help but worry about how many of them would take his unplanned sojourn with the villains as an abandonment of them. He hoped none, but it was a doubt, a worry that wouldn't leave him alone.

Tramp sighed, and reluctantly nodded. He would have to find the courage, somehow, to approach his children. But, after talking to Danielle in London, the thought if the rest of his children looking at him the same way was frightening.

He sighed, and lowered his head when Pongo asked how many children he had. Apparently, the Dalmatian hadn't heard. Well, he was through with hiding what he'd done. Or trying to excuse his behavior.

"Five. Annette, Collette, Danielle, Scamp, and Angel," he said. Despite the mistakes he'd made surrounding her birth, she was still his daughter, and he loved her just as much as he loved the rest of his children. And he was proud of her.

"I...I've spoken to Danielle already," he said, the memory of the meeting still burning in his mind. "She wasn't happy to see me."

Her reaction when he'd revealed himself still hurt, still tore at his heart. Was he really so horrible? Did he even have any business hanging around, and trying to get beck into his children's lives? He shook his head as he dismissed those thoughts from his mind. I have to believe in second chances.

(ooc: Short post, sorry; I couldn't think what else to add ^^" Also, do you think Perdy could come in now, if she wants to?)

Frown creased Pongo's maw. He could understand how disheartening that had to be for the other canine, and in light of that, he hardly blamed Tramp for feeling so hopeless. And what could he even say to that? Pongo couldn't imagine how terribly Tramp must be hurting from that. Each of Pongo's own children he'd talked to had still accepted him; even the ones who had chosen opposing sides. Maybe it was simply that his kids weren't as old as Tramp's; hadn't reached that stage of independence yet.

"I'm sorry," was all he could think of to say, and he meant it. Even if all of Tramp's pups were currently alive - more than Pongo could say of his own -, his family was evidently a lot more fractured than the dalmatisn's.

(Ooc: Yes, I think so.)

Tramp sighed, feeling helpless. Before, whenever he felt like this, he'd have talked to Pidge about his troubles. Now, though, she was gone. He still sometimes spoke to her when he was alone, but she never answered. He didn't even know if she'd even want to answer, if she even could.

"I'm sorry."

Tramp glanced up, then looked back down. "I think what scares me most is what'll happen if none of them want anything to do with me. They're all I've got left in this world."

Unless he had any more children he didn't know about. Before, he'd never have given the idea a second thought. But, he'd been with a number of girls before he'd met Lady. And now, he couldn't help but wonder if Angel was the only child he'd sired without knowing it. Will my past never cease to haunt me? he wondered silently, despairingly.

If she were being perfectly honest, Perdita didn't quite know what had brought her out into the grasslands again. She knew it was dangerous, especially if there were any big cats on the prowl, but something had driven her to leave camp and get away from the others for a while. In particular, Perdita wanted to be away from her children for a little while. The news had reached her belatedly via the Twilight Bark, but she had heard what happened. Dipstick had died. It was a blow she hadn't been quite prepared for since he had disappeared from the heroes camp what felt like an eternity ago, and Perdita was regretting not asking Pongo about him while she had the opportunity when they'd been together in battle. On the other hand, though, it had been impossible for her to ask since she'd almost died by being crushed by a giant snake.

Since learning of Dipstick's death, Perdita had been dragged back into that odd haze she had been under when Pepper had died. How many more of her children were going to succumb to the war and never live to see their next birthdays? She knew as well as Pongo that their surviving children would be turning a year old by that point, but with five down she hardly felt there was a reason to celebrate.

How many more? How many more?

Rather suddenly, the slender female found herself jostled from her thoughts when a familiar scent reached her. She looked up and happened to spot Pongo and Tramp nearby. Although Tramp was a fellow hero, she hardly spoke to the grey-furred male. She also didn't know the full details of what happened to his family, but she knew well enough that Patch and Tramp's son, Scamp, were at odds with one another and that Tramp's daughters had been at odds with one another as well. In a way, she felt it sort of surreal that the two families who had been so broken by the war would be brought together that day.

"Pongo?" Perdita asked as she padded forward to join the two males. The first thought that came to her was how she hadn't properly thanked him for saving her life in battle before. The second was that she should ask if he had heard what happened to Dipstick. The questions didn't come, though, and all she could do was realize how soft her voice must have sounded. She hadn't been speaking all that much since she'd found out about their most recent loss. Hopefully, though, Pongo and Tramp could coax her into being more talkative once again.

Again, Pongo wasn't sure what to say. His instinct was still that Tramp ought to try, for his other pups' sake, but the dal didn't see much to be gained by voicing that again. The older canine knew by now what Pongo's stance on the matter was; that if even one of his pups still needed him, Tramp should do what he could for that one pup. And by Pongo's guess, at least two of Tramp's pups would still want him. Saying the same again wouldn't achieve anything.

To Pongo's relief, he was saved from having to decide what to say by a third arrival on the scene. The dal looked up as he heard the one voice he would recognise no matter what call his name softly, and in spite of everything, his mouth curled into a smile at the sight of his beloved mate approaching. A smile that faded quickly as he took in how worn down Perdy looked. Pomgo had known that the loss of more of their children would have taken its toll on Perdita, but he hadn't quite imagined how much so. He didn't need to ask if she'd heard the news of Dipstick's death; one look at her haggard features confirmed it for him. Hoping that Tramp would excuse him for a moment, the spotted male rose to his feet to meet her as she approached, tenderly nuzzling her jawline.

"Oh Perdy darling, I've missed you," he muttered softly.

Tramp could tell that Pongo still thought he should talk to his family. And, truth be told, he knew he had to, sooner or later. Much as it scared him, he had to know, and he had to do what he could to bring his family back together. Failing that, merely ensuring their survival would be enough. It would have to be.

He cleared his throat, about to speak when he saw Perdita approaching. Instead, he just sighed, not protesting as Pongo stood, and went to greet her. He'd have done the same in the Dalmatian's place. But, as Pongo greeted his wife, a sudden pang of loss ripped through the old mutt's heart. Seeing the two of them together served as a fresh reminder of his own loss.

Gripped with a sudden, overwhelming sense of emptiness, Tramp turned away, struggling to keep tears from streaming down his face. He stared up at the sky, fighting to get his emotions under control. He couldn't afford to break down.