Father of Mine (Danny)

[Cee Cohen]

Cee still didn’t know what to do with a kid.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever thought of having them. He had. Most of the time he disregarded the notion as a foolish flight of fancy but he HAD considered it. He’d been good with his siblings. He’d probably be good with children of his own. But there was the issue that, between the vision and the paranoia and the intelligence with little common sense, Cee doubted very much that any offspring he had would be able to…survive.

Well, so far, Danny had proved him wrong.

Cee had assumed custody. Apparently the grandmother hadn’t wanted it—Cee had found her number and was just waiting for his temper to simmer down before he called it to yell at her for a multitude of reasons—and Cee…did not want his son living in a dorm by himself.

Well, unless he wanted to, of course, but Danny had seemed to like the idea of living with Cee and he’d been on the path before he’d had a chance to think about it.

Cee had needed to find a new apartment first but had accelerated the process along marvelously with some money from his savings and a complete—almost—purge of anything explosive. The new place was near Ferris and Devon, which he was grateful for. He could get the two to help him out if it came down to it. He’d purchased more furniture, shut his eyes and held the phone far from his ear after he’d told his parents to ignore the squealing of his mother, and, finally, had had a place for Danny to move in. He walked the boy there—it wasn’t that far and Cee still wasn’t allowed to drive—and stood outside the door, clearing his throat.

“Well. This is the apartment. Would you like to take a look inside?” He offered him a smile. “I didn’t have a chance to decorate your room extensively, but I saw you liked dinosaurs and so I purchased a few posters for you. You can decide where you want them to go.”

He could totally handle this, right? Right?

[Danny Cohen]

Well, that made two of them. Danny didn't really know what to do with a father, but he was deliriously happy to have one. The families of his classmates had involved at least a Mom or a Dad, sometimes both, sometimes one and a step-something, sometimes one or both and some other relative too. Danny had been the only one with just a Grandma. He knew his Mom had died when he was a baby, but any questions about his Dad had had Grandma say 'he's not here' or 'it doesn't matter' or something like that. Grandma-speak for her not wanting to talk about it. Danny had just assumed he didn't have one.

To be proven wrong was the best. He had a Daddy and... he didn't know what to do with himself. Daddy was great, too. He knew tons of big words, he wore super cool glasses, and he did stuff to the insides of computers. That last had to mean he was a genius. Best of all? Super best? When Danny smiled at him, he smiled back. The eleven-year-old had smiled so much that first day he thought his cheeks would fall off. It was such a relief to be with someone who seemed to appreciate his happiness - and returned it!

And now, the next adventure! Living with him! Danny couldn't wait. Daddy had to get a new place to live. He didn't quite understand the mumbled reason for moving, but he guessed it was one of those grown up things he'd understand later when he was one too. Danny had skipped or danced the whole way from school, down to the row of squished-together houses. One of their new neighbors... he had a name like a ride, that's all Danny could remember... had helped move things in. Danny's boxes and bags were right in there!

"Yes! Let's go in!" Srsly, he had to ask? The little brunet hopped about as his father unlocked the door and led them inside. It was dark but warm, and there was a casserole-ish smell floating around courtesy of that same ride-named man. "Why would you dec'rate my room essentially?"

Snowy boots and winter clothes came off at the door, and Danny took his Daddy's hand again as they went upstairs. His room had cream-colored carpet and white walls, and basic furniture. A twin bed, bedside table, bureau, and desk. There was a closet and an overhead light, a lamp on the bedside table and desk, and posters unrolled on the bed. One had a T.Rex on it, but the better one had an Apatosaurus on it. Danny squealed when he saw it. "I love these guys!" he cried. "I love long necked dinosaurs, but I love the swimming ones best. Elasmosaur is my very favorite. Apatosaurus is awesome too but he doesn't swim. I don't think. Maybe he does? Gosh, that would be great if he did. What dinosaur do you like, Daddy?"

Everyone had a favorite dinosaur, didn't they? 'Course they did.

[Cee Cohen]

Cee wouldn’t have known what to do if Danny told him that the best thing about having Cee around was the fact that Cee smiled back. Cee would freely and happily admit that he wasn’t the most mature individual. Things just tended to pass him by, completely confuse him and sometimes just not even register. But if Cee had known that Danny never had someone who smiled back at him, he would’ve forgotten all those little aspects of common sense that he clung to (because frankly, he didn’t have a lot), taken a cab or a plane or WHATEVER all the way to Cleveland and given that old woman a very long, very angry piece of his mind.

And Cee really wasn’t the kind to lecture. He didn’t even really know what to do with anger just by itself except hit his head against something. Repeatedly. Or possibly just…pace a hole into the carpet.

Cee smiled at the younger boy’s enthusiasm, as it reminded him quite a bit of him when he was younger and even more hyperactive than he was now—and he blinked at the question, then blinked. “Um. I mean I just put the basics into it.” Danny was making him revise his vocabulary. A difficult task, considering Cee had loved words as soon as he’d discovered what they were, and the bigger the better. “So, like, a bed and things.” He felt a little foolish just using the normal terms, but he was capable of it. After all, he did it in moments of distress. So he just had to…reorient his brain. Piece of cake.

His hand was small, too. Cee was still a bit shy of contact—it reminded him of the twins so much that it kind of hurt—but he managed a smile as he led the boy up the stairs. He laughed at his expression as he saw the posters, even though he had NO idea what any of those dinosaurs were.

“Um.” He blinked. Paleo—archae—old stuff wasn’t really Cee’s strong suit, unless it came to cars. Cee was always looking to the future.

Metaphorically speaking as in reality, Cee could barely see anything at all.

“Pterodactyl?” he hazarded. That was the one with wings, right? Couldn’t go wrong with the one with wings. “I enjoy—I like those. Like in Jurassic Park.” Which Cee had seen rather hazily through his glasses on one of his rare dates. Cee’s vision was actually all right today. Danny’s presence had a somewhat sobering effect on the normally boisterous and forgetful engineer, and as a result he’d remembered his contacts for two days in a row. Truly astounding.

“Is your favorite on the poster?” he asked. “If not, I found this fantastic—uh, great store down the street that has even more. And anything else you need. My tastes as a kid were peculiar, so I figured you should choose your own items.” And his parents had everything from the twins. Probably for the better, that.

[Danny Cohen]

Danny didn't have no one who smiled back, but the one person he'd done his darndest to make smile never did. If he was good, she'd snorted and said it was about time. If he was bad, he got grounded or had to sit on a chair facing the wall. For a long time Danny had thought he was just not a very good person, but later on he'd figured out that Grandma was 'grumpy'.

Up in the room, the boy nodded thoughtfully. "Pterodactyls are cool 'cause they fly, but most of 'em weren't very big. Except for Quetzalcoatlus." Danny pronounced the last word 'ketza-kottle-us'. "I like the really big dinosaurs." He frowned. "A girl in my class told me I was racist when I said that. Am I?"

Looking over the posters carefully, Danny shook his head. "No," he said, in that blunt way children have. "But it's hard t' find posters of Elasmosauruses." Brown eyes widened. "You saw Jurassic Park? Grandma wouldn't let me. She said it was too scary. I saw commercials for it and maybe she was right, but maybe she wasn't. Some of the kids in my class said it was scary."

He sighed, though he was still smiling. He'd tried SO hard to find posters of Elasmosaurs! "Everyone likes Tyrannosaurus and Stegosaurus and Triceratops and Brachiosaurs." But he smiled again. "These posters're really cool! I like them! My old room mostly had spelling lists on the walls."

Grandma's idea. Every night he was supposed to go over the week's list and spell the words out loud. He could walk around if he wanted, but Grandma wanted to hear him go over the lists three times before he went to bed. It did help his spelling, but having those lists of words on the walls of his already closet-sized bedroom had been a little... yucky. Danny didn't really know a good word for what it was. Not quite depressing but near there, not ugly but not something he'd wanted all over his wall, not disheartening but almost, and not really something that had made him upset but sometimes sort of did.

Looking around, he asked, "What else goes in a room? Oh!"

Digging in one of the garbage bags that held his things, he pulled out and brandished a well-loved Grumpy Bear. "Martin!"

Gently he placed the bear on the bed, head on the pillow. "There!"