Chapter Text
July 30, 2022.
Fyodor: 32, Nikolai: 32, Sigma: 30
A child was born. A baby.
A baby that Fyodor paid for. So much money went into the procedure, yet it was worth it. His lovers wanted a child, a little human being with their genes, with their eyes, their smile, and their hair. No matter whose baby it would be, any traits were welcome to pass from them.
They had a chance to make it happen, so they took it. It was a hard decision on what to make, but with Fyodor telling Sigma he will do absolutely anything to secure the pregnancy, find a surrogate who will carry a child, and find doctors who are willing to go through with it, Sigma decided that getting pregnant and carrying a child for a few weeks until given to surrogate will be worth it.
The only thing Sigma ever wanted was a happy family. They were happy lovers, in a happy marriage that was going well, so why not create a child who will bring them more joy in life, for whom they will care and pass the love that they can give, that they are willing to give?
The night that the child was made was even loving. Fyodor does go slow every time, focusing on the pleasure and intimacy, and he did then too. Even Nikolai, who Sigma would expect to fuck him into bedsheets with no mercy, was surprisingly gentle. This time love was showing more than lust. Knowing Sigma stopped taking birth control, and knowing that they might make a child, how they hoped so, was a factor that made Nikolai so loving.
It wouldn’t be fair to choose the father to give the sperm, they both deserve a chance. So, they came up with an idea: for them both to release in Sigma, not knowing whose child it will be.
However, there just might be a secret Fyodor isn’t willing to tell. He loves his lovers too much to forbid them to have a child, yet he is aware how hard it will be for him. To pass his genes, Dostoevsky’s genes, to another human being was a sin. With every Dostoevsky born, the past would repeat itself, putting that child into a position where it couldn’t get away from family abuse and the passing sin that is hereditary.
The secret that he will never tell them is that he hopes for that child to be Nikolai’s, to have his genes. He swore he would end this cycle of abuse that runs in the Dostoevsky family. If the child wasn’t planned, that goal would be achieved. He had two loving partners, there was no toxicity.
But it was planned, and that nine months that took for that baby to be born were passing painfully slow. If Fyodor just let Nikolai have it, it would be easier. He wouldn’t have to be bothered by thinking about it for so long. He would already know.
To his disappointment, when the child was born, the doctor gave them results. It was his. The child had Sigma’s and Fyodor’s genes.
Theo was born.
Same as the father of a child, the name was chosen randomly. Each of them wrote their idea for the name and put them all into a bowl, since they knew the gender. At least that wasn’t a secret.
They pulled out the name “Theseus”, a Greek hero, which Fyodor wrote down. Nikolai instantly said that they are not naming their child that. Fight was settled once Sigma proposed a short version: Theo.
Fyodor was satisfied. Good enough. It still holds the power as Theseus. It’s still a name that can make that child a hero; the smartest one, perfect one. After all, he expected of him to achieve unachievable, just like Theseus did.
Sigma got Theo in his hands after the birth went well. He thanked the surrogate woman thousands of times, and will hundreds later, keeping in touch just so she could keep seeing Theo when she wanted to. In the end, someone who did this much for them deserves to be trusted with the child she carried. Later on, she will be the first option to babysit him, the first one to know about his first words and his accomplishments. That is the least they can do for her.
Sigma was scared of Nikolai’s reaction if Theo wouldn’t end up being his. He knows just how much Nikolai wanted that baby, just how possessive he can get with things, and he thought the same would be with their son.
Nikolai wanted to be his dad so bad. He wanted him to have his hair, or his eyes. He even expected him to be born with heterochromia, even if there wasn't much of a chance of that happening. However, once he saw their son, that kind of thought disappeared. The only thing he saw is their son, not his biological genes.
There was no negative reaction from Nikolai, nor from Sigma, as the doctor said to them that Fyodor is the father. But in Fyodor, a storm began. He held a serious expression, hoping that they wouldn't notice. And they didn’t. Not there; not on the spot. They were too happy to pay attention. Thank God.
He held Theo in his hands the moment later, looking into his eyes. He had Sigma’s, and he was, oh, so like him. There was a spark in them. A spark full of life. Fyodor was sure that spark would never be in the eyes of Dostoevsky, yet here it was, right before him to look at while feeling the tingles all over his body.
That spark Fyodor never had. Maybe it was because even the part of his family that isn’t Dostoevsky was a problematic one. By that logic, it just proves how pure Sigma’s genes are. They are so powerful that they managed to end the curse of Dostoevsky, genetically.
While Fyodor was looking at him, still holding the neutral expression, Nikolai and Sigma were amazed by him, looking at Fyodor holding him. For them, Theo was a little human being, ready to live the life to the fullest. So many things are ahead of him, ahead of them. Family life just began.
But for Fyodor, he was a Dostoevsky that he will have to raise without ever wanting to.
He managed to fake his happiness, to put aside that strange feeling he himself couldn’t recognize, couldn’t name it. He didn’t want to admit how nothing changed as he wanted it, how the sight of their child wasn’t enough for him to brush off that strange feeling that something will go wrong.
