#but luckily!!! i don't plan on introducing any new babies into this route so that won't happen!!

[darth-sonny]

Can you just imagine if someone else in the family has a kid and Kirby can see how different they're treated. Like loving a new and wanted kid would be so easy for the family and that's something Kirby can't really have.

There was a new addition to the family: a baby, a little girl, named Lita. She’s Uncle Raph’s kid, one he had with a nice lady called Mona Lisa or something. Both of them are standing proudly as everyone holds the baby. She’s pretty and pale and has soft pink markings all over her body.

Kirby doesn’t meet her. They don’t want to meet her.

They watch, from the moderate safety of a doorway, as everyone cooed and fawned over the new addition. They watched as the little baby girl was given kisses, rocked back and forth, cuddled, and nuzzled closely. Everyone was smiling at the baby, loving her.

It’s not fair.

Nothing about this is fair.

None of them are awkward around the baby, no one was stilted, none of them looked at the addition with looks that clearly showed how uncomfortable they were with her.

Even Uncle Donnie was smiling at her – no cold looks, no barely hidden disdain, no nothing.

None of that.

They hate this.

They wished that the baby didn’t exist.

They just want that small illusion back, back when they could pretend that things were slowly getting better.

But as everyone keeps fawning over and passing the addition around, it becomes increasingly clear that the illusion is broken. Irreparably so.

They sniff, feeling their eyes sting.

Kirby leaves before the baby is handed over to Dad.

They’re sitting on their bed, blanket over them, holding two small dolls and playing with them. Or pretending to. They move the dolls around, shake them as if they’re talking, but their mind is somewhere else.

They decide to hide out in their room.

They think about the new addition, and how everyone acts around her.

They move one of the dolls, a small pink and white rabbit, to lay down in front of the other doll. The other doll was a red horse. Kirby raises the other doll and brings it down on the rabbit. Once, twice, three times. Over and over and over again until the pink and white doll is a mess of plastic bits and scattered paint flecks.

The new addition is a newborn, right? Newborns are weak. Right?

It should be easy.

Just go up, grab her, and-!

Kirby shakes their head.

They pick up the broken doll and throw it away.

They don’t feel horrible about what they did. They never do after they have those moments. That’s what makes them feel horrible.

They know why they’re like this, and it makes sense to them why their family treated them like they do. And, in some cases, continue to treat them like that.

But it’s still not fair.

They didn’t do anything.

And yet…

How come they weren’t treated like that? With hugs, cuddles, kisses, and cooing?

Why?

They look at the red doll next to them.

It was the same color red as Uncle Raph’s bandana.

It only takes a second.

Another broken doll is thrown in the trash.

It’s not fair.

They curl up in their bed, using their blanket to hide themself, biting back any whimpers and pathetic sounding chirps that try to escape. Their eyes sting like no other, but Kirby won't cry. They refuse to cry. They won't add more fuel to that fire. They won't.

Leo finds them later, curled up into a ball and crying.

He doesn't say anything. He picks them up and holds them close, rocking back and forth.

He ignores the clicking hiss, or the multiple eyes that glare down at him from the corners of the room. He just holds his kid and mutters that he understands, and that it really isn't fair.

He holds them tighter as Kirby continues to cry.