Fatherhood was never part of the plan—not for John, and especially not with someone like you. The two of you had something that defied labels, a relationship that wasn’t quite casual but never fully committed either. You were a constant in his life, a comfort amidst the chaos, someone he could always return to without expectations or demands. The affection was real, even if unspoken, and that made what came next all the more terrifying.

When you told him you were pregnant, he didn’t know what to say. He tried to brush it off, mask the fear and uncertainty with his usual bravado, but the truth was, it shook him. He wasn’t built for this—he was a man steeped in dark magic and darker deeds, a walking curse who had lost more people than he could count. The idea of bringing a child into that world was enough to send him spiraling, back into old habits, old vices, anything to avoid facing what he was feeling.

But then the day came.

The first time he laid eyes on his child, tiny and fragile in your arms, something inside him cracked. The usual walls he kept around his heart, built so high and so strong, began to crumble. When he reached out and felt those small fingers wrap around his own, he was undone.

In that instant, all the fear and doubt that had plagued him melted away. The world outside might be full of demons and darkness, but here, in this moment, there was something pure. Something worth fighting for. And for the first time in a long while, John found himself caring—truly caring—about a future he had never dared to imagine.

He looked at you, the one person who had always been there, and realized that whatever lay ahead, he wasn’t going to face it alone. This child, your child, was his too, and that terrified him in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain. But he’d face it, with all the fear and love that came with it, because for once in his life, he had something worth fighting for that wasn’t tied to magic or redemption. It was tied to you, and the life you’d brought into this world together.