Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The flames that had almost entirely engulfed the massive ship were now licking at the man’s arm as he frantically lowered the only remaining lifeboat into the churning waters below. He gritted his teeth against the heat surrounding him and tried to focus on the rope sliding through his hands as quickly as he could let it without jostling the lifeboat’s passengers. But a tongue of fire had crept under the rope’s rigging, unseen by the man, and with a harsh snap, the rigging broke, falling into the ocean and taking the rope with it.

There was a splash and a yelp from below, and the man rushed to the side of the ship, his heart pounding in his ribcage, expecting to see the lifeboat smashed to pieces and the precious passengers struggling to stay afloat. All he saw when he frantically searched the water, however, was the face of his wife looking up at him, her eyes wide as she grasped the side of the unscathed lifeboat with one hand, and kept the other wrapped protectively around the baby boy clutched close to her chest.

Relief flooded through the man for the first time since the fire had started- the work of a crewman placing a lantern stupidly close to the cargo of gunpowder. He climbed over the railing on the edge of the ship, took a deep breath, and jumped.

~

A boom louder and stranger than any Logan had heard before echoed through the jungle. It certainly wasn’t a tree falling over; it was much too loud for that. No. Logan knew that what made those kinds of noises were usually humans; tall, ugly, untrustworthy, and greedy, with their shiny, odd weapons that killed anything in their path. Logan had encountered humans only shortly before he left his first troop, and he did not want his family now to have to share that same kinds of experience.

It was night-time, and everyone had already settled into their nests. Anna Marie, Ororo, and Jean were looking up at him for a sign of what to do. Edie, however, was looking at her son, cradling him to her chest. He was sickly, and Logan could see that he was fussing from being woken up (it was hard enough for him to get to sleep in the first place). A flash of sympathy washed over the huge gorilla.

Edie was not one of his mates. Her troop had been wiped out by the same sickness that her son had now; Jean had found them shivering and half-dead almost a month ago. Since then Logan had taken them in, never one to desert one of his kind, and while Edie had grown steadily stronger, her son had never fully recovered. Logan was beginning to doubt he ever would.

For a moment, he considered staying here to save Edie and her son from the stress and complications of moving. Almost immediately, he shook his head. They had to leave, to move further into the jungle, away from the potential threat. He had to protect his family.

He stood high on his back legs and beat his chest, a sign of leadership for the others that finally drew Edie’s attention away from her baby.

“Time to go,” he said, and began stalking off deeper into the jungle, certain the rest would follow.

~

It took nearly two weeks to build the house in the tree. The man and woman worked until it was finished: a fortress almost fifty feet in the air that was only accessible by a vine rope ladder. Through the three small windows of the one-room house, the small family could see the ocean to the west and the expansive African jungle to the east. Now that they were off the ground and safe from most animals, the man and woman could plan their return back to civilization.

Then the spring rains came, and they could barely leave the tree house to search for food, much less signs of other humans. Still, spring meant the boy’s birthday, and turning one year old was something to celebrate.

~

Cold and wet conditions this far into the forest usually were bearable, but Edie’s son was not well to begin with, and the chill only made him worse. Edie held him as tightly as she could, singing to him and shielding him from the wind and rain with her body while she watched his small form shake from the cold. She glanced up to see Logan making his way over. Wordlessly, he sat as close as possible to try and help block the wind.

“He’ll be alright,” he said so quietly Edie almost didn’t hear him. She almost wished she hadn’t; the words sounded empty.

~

After four months, the man, the woman, and the baby boy had all acclimated fairly well to life in the jungle. Both parents were getting quite good at finding the right sort of places to fish, and the woman had read of what sorts of berries were okay to eat before they had set sail purely out of curiosity. This meant they rarely didn’t have fruit to eat, and her husband often told her how grateful he was for her unexpected foresight.

Apart from the increasing aptness for finding food, the man and woman were entertained by a visitor who frequented the small porch outside the tree house. She was a beautiful, white bird with a shock of plumage fanning along the top of her head like a crown. She was usually there when the man and woman first stepped outside in the morning, and had soon gotten comfortable enough to let them carry her inside. She became a bit of a pet, and they grew quite fond of her.

Whenever they weren’t gathering food or plotting their escape from the coast, the man and woman would play a game, teaching their son and the bird how to speak.

“Vogel,” the woman said, smiling at the scene in front of her. Her son was staring at the bird, crawling slowly towards her and reaching out to try and grab her feathers, but the bird shied away.

“Vogel,” the boy and bird parroted back.

The man gave the boy a kiss on the cheek, and the bird a bit of dried fish. “Gut gemacht, Erik.”

~

“Edie,” Jean’s voice was hesitant, and Edie knew without turning that she wasn’t the only one waiting patiently for Edie to move. “Come on. Logan said it’s time to go back.”

“I can’t leave him,” Edie stated bluntly. “I won’t.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Ororo said gravely. “It’s hard. We all miss him. But you can’t stay here like this. We need to go back home. All of us.”

If Edie hadn’t cried as much as she could already, tears would have pricked in her eyes, but there were no more for her to shed.

~

The man and woman had grown surprisingly comfortable in their little home. Their son was almost a year and a half, already saying his first words; watching and imitating everything so intelligently. They were happy, all things considered.

But they also were not native to the forest. They didn’t think to make their door strong enough, or keep their hunting spears close at hand while sleeping, and they didn’t know that leopards could climb trees.

~

Edie hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks, and was the first one awake as the sun crept over the mountains in the distance. Picking her way carefully around the others’ nests, she made her way out towards the watering hole on the edge of the jungle. Being near everyone else who slept so soundly just made her feel even more heartbroken.

While the sun steadily rose, Edie watched a flock of birds drinking and bathing in the deep pool close to the waterfall. This early in the morning, the jungle was quiet, peaceful. But just as she was considering turning back to the nests to see how many of the others were awake, a faint crying sound caught her ear. For a moment she thought she was imagining it, but no, it was there, the constant and undeniably upset cries of something very small. Edie didn’t even hesitate. Turning towards the sound, she ran off into the jungle in search of the source.

~

Vines and errant branches whipped at Edie’s face as she forced herself through the undergrowth. Slowly but surely, the cries were growing louder, and the foliage beginning to thin, while the scent of salty sea air grew stronger. Knowing she was getting close, Edie broke into a sprint, pulling herself forward with powerful arms and kicking off from the ground with strong legs until she burst through the tree line and into a small clearing near a stretch of beach.

She looked up, towards the source of the crying and saw a strange sort of shack built high in a ceiba tree. She went over to it and pulled herself up branch by branch until she reached the platform in front of the house.

Now that she was here, Edie moved more cautiously. What if the thing making the noise was actually luring her into a trap? This place was obviously built by humans, and everything Logan had told her and the other gorillas about humans had shown what violent and untrustworthy creatures they were. But somehow Edie doubted the thing making the noise meant her any harm. Still, she moved guardedly as she pushed open the door and stuck her head inside.

The house was dark, the windows shuttered against the light, but Edie could still make out some details. There was only one room. Up against the opposite wall was a bed, the sheets mussed as if someone had just woken up. A table and several chairs had been upturned. Two unmoving lumps were in the corner to the right of the bed, covered partially by the shredded remains of a makeshift couch. Edie could smell the blood spattering the walls better than she could see it in the darkness.

There was a louder, higher wail than before, and Edie remembered her reason for coming. She looked to her right and saw, in the corner, a small crib with a blanket draped over it. The blanket was wriggling frantically, and as Edie drew closer she knew this must be the source of the crying. Cautiously, she tugged at the covering until it slid down, revealing a small, bawling baby.

The crying immediately stopped as the baby saw the gorilla before it. Tears still welled up in its blue-grey eyes, but didn’t spill over. Instead, the baby wiped impatiently at its face, brushing at the tear tracks on its cheeks. It sniffed piteously, and Edie could hold still no longer.

She reached into the crib slowly and deliberately so the baby wouldn’t be frightened by her movements. It wasn’t, and soon enough, the child had been transferred from its mess of blankets into her arms. It hiccupped softly and snuggled closer to her, small fingers tangling in her fur. A small smile quirked up the corners of Edie’s mouth for the first time in what felt like ages. The child was engrossing so much of her attention that she didn’t notice the white bird glide in through the open door and perch itself on top.

“His name is Erik,” the bird chirped solemnly.

Edie whirled around, one arm curled around the baby and the other raised, ready to fight. She relaxed as soon as she recognized who was speaking. “Emma,” she said, relieved. She had known the bird for a few years; she was friendly enough, even though she could sometimes give off a supercilious air. Now, however, she looked sad as she glanced around the small house.

“I knew this family. They were shipwrecked here. It looks like a leopard…” Emma trailed off, tearing her gaze away from the corner with the motionless bodies. She shook out her plumage and turned back to Edie with a rueful tilt to her head. “They liked to try and teach me human words. The boy’s name is Erik.”

Edie looked down at the boy in her arms. He rubbed at his drooping eyes again before blinking up at Edie curiously. Edie smiled, and raised one of her fingers for the boy’s own small hand to wrap around.

“Erik,” she repeated, and the boy looked up at her.

There was a flutter of feathers, and Edie felt sharp claws dig lightly into her shoulder as Emma perched there to look down at the boy as well. “He’s only about a year. They had a party for him during the spring rains. I was there,” the bird explained quietly. “Poor thing. He’ll die out here without his family.”

Panic flared in Edie’s chest, and she held Erik closer. He didn’t seem perturbed at all, still too busy examining Edie’s hand.

“No, he won’t,” Edie said. “I’ll make sure.”

Emma flapped over to the side of the crib in a sudden flash of wings. Her eyes were skeptical as they watched Edie watching Erik. “Are you sure? Logan--”

“It doesn’t matter what Logan says,” Edie interrupted. “I’ll take care of him. Right, Erik?”

Hearing his name again, Erik looked up. A wide grin spread across his face, exposing his tiny, white teeth. He gurgled, then closed his mouth to blow spit bubbles in a hum. Edie set him up straighter against her chest, making the bubbles dribble down his chin until she wiped them off. Erik grabbed her hand and shrieked happily.

Emma continued to regard them with a stern eye. “Well, it’s your funeral,” she chirruped dourly, fluffing her feathers once more before taking off through the open door.

Edie ignored her. “Come along, Erik,” she said, exiting out the front door and closing it soundly behind her with one last sympathetic look towards where Erik’s parents lay. “Let’s go meet the rest of the family.”

~

“Absolutely not.”

“Logan-”

“Have you not listened to anything I’ve told you?”

“He’s a baby! There’s nothing he could possibly-”

“Edie, no!” Logan roared, his sharp teeth bared.

Edie was unflinching, but Erik, still in her arms, took a huge gulp of air and started to wail again. The sound made Logan freeze, and the expression of unbridled anger dropped from his face. He looked down at Erik as the little boy turned to burrow deeper against Edie’s fur. He frowned.

“Was he alone?”

“Of course. His parents are dead.”

Logan snorted irritably, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Fine. You can keep him. But he’ll never be one of us.” He stalked off through the jungle, away from the little boy’s cries.

Edie gathered Erik close, instead of following and trying to argue, and walked to her nest, further off from the others. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” she said, patting his back soothingly to quiet him once they were nestled comfortably inside. “It’ll be alright. I’ve got you now.”