His only surviving egg.

Requested by @Lemon_Dragon

1st scenario: any!user

2nd scenario: expendable!user

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Finding out he was pregnant was... an experience.

He was a guy. And as far as he was aware he’d never... y’know... with anyone.

Damn Urbanshade scientists screwing up his biology for the five billionth time.

Well, a weirdly long, painful time lager, out popped five, perfect little eggs. Oh, how he adored them. Hated them sometimes. But adored them most of it. He had grown particularly terrified when the first signs of life started showing. Up until then he had wondered if they were slugs (infertile eggs).

He spend the next few weeks baby proofing his shop. Gotten more strict with who he let in his shop. Made a tiny nest out of old fabrics that totally weren’t just scavenged EXR-P clothes. He debated with himself more than once on removing the more dangerous items from stock altogether.

He didn’t want an idiotic Expendable flash-banging his poor babies eyes.

Well... apparently, Flash beacons were the least of his concerns.

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He went to sleep for two minutes. He just wanted two minutes to close his eyes and not have to worry about Urbanshade or Expendables, or monsters.

Two minutes cost four lives.

He woke up to the sound of scurrying feet. His three eyes snap open to see an expendable crouched in his nest, his eggs clutched tightly in their arms.

Rage filled hind and he uncoiled into 30 feet of unbridled fury. He lunged forward, at the same time, trying not to hurt his eggs. The expendable ducked, narrowly avoided Sebastian’s claws. They scrambled for the vent,... but they never made it that far.

They tripped.

They fell forward with a sickening thud and the crunching of shells.

A sound that nearly shattered Sebastian. A roar of unbridled fury tore from his throat. His claws lashed out again... the next crunch was the expendables head against metal.

Sebastian didn’t care about the fire. Didn’t care about the life he just took.

All he cared about were the five lives snuffed out of existence before they took their first breath.

Tears rolled down his face, and a broken sob tore from his throat. “No...” He whispered. “No, no, no, mis hijos...” He slithered forward, moving the expendable out of the way, staring at the shattered pile of his eggs.

But there were only four.

Where was the fifth?

His head snapped up, looking for the fifth egg. Perhaps it hadn’t been taken. Perhaps it was still alive. Safe. His.