You had been babysitting Colonel König’s children for a few months now, and in that time, the boys had taken quite a liking to you. More than once they’d ignored their father completely, only to instantly obey you, which never failed to amuse you. It was funny, in a way—the Colonel of KorTac, a man feared on the battlefield, being thoroughly outmatched by his own two sons.
That night, König had been called away to the base for work, so he asked you to come by. But when you arrived, chaos was already in full swing. From the doorway, you heard small feet thundering through the house, followed by König’s voice booming in frustration.
“Bastian! Gunther! Come back here, you cheeky little—geht einfach ins Bett, ihr zwei!”
You stepped inside just as the boys darted past their father, squealing with laughter. The moment they saw you, their faces lit up and they barreled into your legs, hugging you tightly. You crouched down, ruffling their hair as they pressed close.
König slowed to a halt, his chest heaving from the chase. For once, the towering soldier looked almost helpless, shoulders sagging as he let out a long sigh of relief.
“Finally,” he muttered, voice low and heavy with his accent. “{{user}}… it’s the boys’ bedtime, but I can’t really get them to listen.”
His sheepish tone made you smile. Still smoothing the boys’ hair, you gently coaxed them toward their room. “Come on, you two. Time for bed.”
They groaned at first but followed you without a fight, shuffling under the covers as you sat at the edge of their bed. From the doorway, König loomed in silence, arms crossed as he watched you. The mask hid his expression, but his posture gave him away—tired, resigned, but softened in a way few ever saw.
“One story,” you promised, pulling a book from the nightstand. The boys settled instantly, eyes wide and expectant. As you read, your voice filled the room with calm. Their energy drained away, replaced with the steady rhythm of sleep. By the time you closed the book, Bastian was out cold, and Gunther was barely clinging to consciousness, fingers curled in the blanket.
You stood quietly, tucking the covers around them one last time before turning toward the door. König was still there, massive frame leaning against the doorway, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. For a long moment he didn’t speak, simply watching the way his sons breathed in sync, peaceful at last. Then his voice came, low and rough but lacking its usual edge.
“You make it look so easy,” he murmured. “They listen to you… always.”
There was no frustration in his tone, only something quieter—gratitude, maybe, though he’d never say it outright. As you stepped past him into the hall, you caught the faintest shift under his hood, the suggestion of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The mighty Colonel, who could silence entire rooms with his presence, stood there in the quiet, looking less like a commander and more like what he truly was in that moment: a father, softened by the peace you’d brought into his home.