Chapter Text
"Pri-" He says, frustration bubbling in the aborted call.
Her voice is tinny through his phone speaker, but firm. "I cannot do anything, dearest. I tried. We all agree that the fault lies with Termina, with the Clock Gang, but this is the only way to prevent war."
"I understand," He says. He does, even if he doesn't like it.
Prisca is a good Princess, fair and kind, even if they're a bit too mischevious for his tastes. Their his best friend and that's all that matters. They chat a bit more, about his retirement and suggestions of what to do with all the time he has on his hands. There's suggestions of dating, of throwing a party, of a number of things.
He ends up drinking celebratory mimosas at Telma's, sitting outside with the morning sun glinting off Prisca's hair like it's spun gold and turning Malon's into fire. It's a good time, filled with laughter and good food. It's Malon who suggests using the free time to track down some of his long lost (and longer forgotten) family.
"Oh! Who knows, you may find more family than you thought you had!" She says with excitement.
What innocently damning words.
He does the DNA test, half curiousity that he couldn't smother and half to prove both those busy bodies he's friends with wrong. A little tube of spit, disgusting, shipped off to the Hyrule National Office of Geneology to be analysed. He resolutely doesn't think about someone doing some science shit to it and actually forgets about it till a couple months later.
He stares at the words in the email with a lot numb satisfaction.
He moves on.
His phone rings some odd weeks after and the number is unfamiliar. The woman on the other end is just as unfamiliar and her words terribly confusing. Out of blue, she says with empty apologies. We try to place them with family, she ignores his silence to continue.
His thoughts race with memories of growing up with the impression that he was all alone in the world, untethered. He thinks of his early retirement and empty apartment. He pinches his nose, the goddesses must be laughing at him, and makes the decision.
"Tell me about him?"
He's four years old and their mother had zero creativity when it came to names since he's also named Link. His surname is different, though that's more so due to the system assigning them than their parent's ingenuity. Found either lost or abandoned in the Faron forest, they're leaning towards abandoned since no one has come forward looking for him. Small for his age with brown hair and blue eyes.
He's quiet, she tells him. No one has gotten a word out of him. He thinks of his own silence as a boy and wonders.
He thanks her, asks for some time to think, and hangs up.
He ignored the buzzing device in his pocket in favor of staring down the kid in front of him.
Unruly, shaggy hair fell into big, wary eyes that watched his every move from behind the bangs that partially obscured them. He's been chatting softly at the kid, observing him back. The kid's nose was slightly wrinkled and he hadn't spoke a word since Link, now jokingly called Big Link, had walked in. The fosters, Rusl and Uli, try to reassure him that it's not something he caused, that Little Link hadn't spoken a word since he'd arrived two months ago. He doesn't think that's as normal as they try to make it sound and he doesn't like how it already feel like leaving a piece of him behind when he goes to leave.
He makes a decision.
Turns out making decisions like filing for custody for a brother you didn't know you had required a lot of paperwork and like... actual work. He tells himself it’s worth it, over and over again, through every moment of frustration that has him wanting to tear his hair out or sit in the floor in tears. He visits the kid as often as he can and is allowed. He nearly melts when the boy finally approaches him, far too quiet for his age, and hold a book out to him to read to him.
It takes several visits before the boy decides that he’s okay to sit on. It’s the last visit that hurts the most.
Right as he gets ready to leave, Little Link pulls his arms towards him in a motion that Link- Big Link- only partially recognizes. He does it again, big octorock tears in his eyes, and Uli is the one recognizes the motion. Its want, in the rudimentary sign language that some places teach little ones.
He crouches down to the boy’s level and it hurts, how quiet he still is when he should be as chatty as every other four year old. Calloused fingers card through the fluffy hair and he lets him bury his little face in shirt.
“I’m gonna come back, lil buddy,” he murmurs into his ear as he rolls up to his feet with him in his arms. Rocking from side to side, he hums an old lullaby till little hiccups peter out and Rusl is able to help him untangle his shirt from the tight grip.
Leaving that day is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.
Coming back with the knowledge that he’d be leaving with his little brother going with him was… nerve wracking and exhilarating.
Little Link still doesn’t make much noise now, but he does show visible excitement at seeing Big Link pull up. He’s a smart enough kid that he knows something big is going on since his things are packed up on the porch. Not that he seems to care much once the modest, dark green, four door sedan that he knew Big Link drove had pulled into view. He waves at the boy from out the driver’s side window as he rolls to a stop and tries not to laugh at how he wriggles in Rusl’s arms to get down.
The moment the car is stopped and he's stepped out, Rusl let's Little Link's feet touch the ground and he's off. It's all he can do to laugh as he swings him up into a light toss before holding him. Excitedly, Little Link draws his hands in before throwing them wide - Big - and he snorts.
"Yes, me," He says. He gets a hug for his troubles and walks them to where Rusl and Uli wait. He smiles at them both. "Thank you for your help and for -"
"Don't you thank us for looking after him." Uli smiles through her own scolding tone. "He's a good boy and you'll be a great brother."
He nods, grateful, and they spend the rest of the afternoon playing. Anything to make the drive out of Faron easier on both Links. Saying goodbye is more like dream than he likes and he finds himself looking in the rearview to reassure himself that it's real.
The sleeping baby he sees there never vanishes and he feels something building in his chest every time he sees him.
Getting home isn't hard, it's the getting into the apartment that's difficult. How to juggle a squirming almost preschooler and bags? Easy, you don't. You say tomorrow and grab one, the kid, and lock the doors. Go upstairs. Simple.
He watches the kid explore every nook and cranny he can find the moment he's on the floor and been given permission. And wasn't that a weighty moment. Having a little hand wrapped around two of his fingers, big blue eyes looking up at him in question, and having to say the words 'go on, this is your home to'. Little Link, and boy do they have to do something about that, takes one look into the room that's been set up for him and ignores it.
He doesn’t expect for his baby brother to sleep in his own room that night, despite being told that he should make him and not encourage any codependency, and he really should have better control of himself to… put him down in his own room. Except it’s hard to let him go now that he doesn’t have to keep his distance and that first 24 hours is spent unashamedly cuddling and spoil the baby now firmly in his care.
Soft little snores and a small warm body tucked close to his… he can’t quite believe that it’s real. Only there's nothing fake about the weight on his chest and he somehow feels more tethered to life than he ever has.
He remains nicknamed Big, despite his attempts at otherwise, and after a few attempts, Little Link becomes Shepherd. He doesn't know why they didn't just use surnames to begin with, but that's something to regret later. (And boy does he regret it later.) He learns a lot in the first few weeks.
Things like Shepherd is scared of the dark, that he has far too much anxiety over Shepherd going to school, that neither of them like the taste of bananas.
Things like maybe retirement wasn't the worst thing to happen to him actually.
He wonders how much more of an adventure this retirement will be.