Chapter XIII - The Miracle

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Word Count ~ 5.1k

TW: Death, near death, references to SA, violence, trauma

(Please take the tags seriously, as this is a very heavy chapter)


Timeline: March 1988


There was something sad yet comforting about accepting that some things don't work out. Coming to terms with defeat always made it a little more tolerable, a reminder that life always moves on and that you should try your best to move with it. However, when you've spent your entire life working towards something you'll never achieve... that pill can be pretty hard to swallow.

It wasn't like the ceramist had a bad life, far from it in fact. He had a stable job that paid well, a loving husband and a comfortable home. He was lucky, and grateful for what he had, but it was disheartening to know that the one thing that would make his life a thousand times better was the only thing he could never have.

Despite this, he and his husband still tried their hardest. But there were no orphanages from which to adopt or foster, surrogacy was too expensive even with a stable job, and the couple themselves didn't exactly have the right compatability to produce a baby by themselves. Even though their lives were otherwise good and happy, knowing that they'd never have children was always a lingering cause of sadness for both of them.

But they'd persisted, finding joy in other aspects of their lives and trying to make the most of their current situation. One such example occurred on the evening of their 7th wedding anniversary, when the ceramist's husband had decided to find the lighthearted humour in what they were going through.


"Sweetheart, look! I have an anniversary present for you!"

The ceramist turned, seeing his husband standing behind him on the balcony with his hands behind his back and an excited grin on his face. "Present? But we just got back home... I thought going to your cousin's restaurant was my present."

"No, I have another one!" His husband exclaimed, before holding out what the ceramist initially mistook for a simple mound of clay. However, upon further inspection, he noticed the ornate, miniscule hands curled into fists, the tiny legs with the knees tucked in close to the stomach, and the cherubic little face with adorable round cheeks and closed eyes. "See? It's our baby!"

The ceramist laughed, taking the tiny clay baby into his hands. He could see the hours of work that had been put into each and every detail, the love and care that had been poured into the little mound of clay as a silly little joke just to make him laugh. "You might just be the strangest person I know... and maybe the most talented too. I love it."

The ceramist leaned in to kiss his husband, something he'd done a hundred times before and something he'd do a hundred times again, but this time things went a little differently. Because before they could actually get the chance to kiss each other, they were interrupted by a blinding flash of light and an explosion-like noise so loud that it almost deafened them both. 

The ceramist fell backwards in shock, his husband managing to catch him before he could hit the ground. Every hair on his body was standing on edge as he was pulled to his feet, the two holding onto each other in shock as they tried to process what had just happened. "Did... did we just get hit by lightning?"

"We couldn't have, there's no storm!" His husband exclaimed, checking the two of them for any injuries and ensuring that no fires had been started by the apparent lightning strike. "But I don't know what else it could have been. You're not hurt, are you...?"

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