So now he had one baby in one hand and another baby in another hand. He stopped to listen hard if there was more of a kindergarden in this blood-infused trash-pile. That would be a problem; he only had two hands.

But thankfully, no. Nothing but putrid poisons and some rats at the bottom.

Well, that's okay then. No need to worry about rabis at all. He felt a sudden wave of exhaustion; get to work, Matty. Not tomorrow, today. Get up.

The left-hand baby bit him.

"Fuck!" He looked at it with wide eyes. He had a distinct feeling that it was glaring back. So much for melancholy. This one was definitely more lively than the other.

And THAT was a wake-up call. The body heat.

That kid needed to get somewhere warm, fast. He needed to... fuck, fine. He put it under his shirt, directly at his skin, pointedly ignoring how inappropriate it felt. The other kid growled; Matt growled back. The shirt was designed to keep the heat in; getting rid of that barier made a difference.

And putting it as a barier between the kid and the cold rest of the world also made a difference, trapping Matts heat just around them instead of letting it dissipate into the air. So unless the little brat was volunteering to warm its brother themselves, it could please shut up.

Matt wasn't about to waltz with two babies shirtless, anyway. He'd much prefer to be prosecuted as a terrorist than a child pervert, thank you.

He sighed. Well, time to go home.

He turned towards the sea of blood surrounding them and took the first step of a long, long walk.