June Writing Challenge: Fatherhood

[Sean *]

It's writing challenge time! To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: In honor of Fathers' Day, the writing challenge this month focuses on fatherhood. This can be literal fatherhood, of your character with their own father, or if they are male and have children, then as a father, or if they are not male but have children with a man, musing on that relationship. Or it can be with a father figure who is not your character's father.

The rules:

• Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are not canon unless explicitly stated.
  
• Entries must be more than 300 words.
  
• You can enter no more than three ficlets. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
  
• Story entries must be titled.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Love Like Rockets
Words: 1047

It had always been a running joke that Serrano's were simply able to produce daughters. Her parents had four of them in total including the life lost on the particular date tattooed to the eldest's wrist. Though her father had always wanted a son, he had always seemed overjoyed with the world he ended up in. And while it made no sense, it was the not-so-quiet hope of the psychometrist that Lucy would manage to give a daughter too. Even the doctor said it was to be so.

Until she had her, and that her was a him, still named for the Australian's mother anyway. Ellis was a boy. They had two boys.

Lincoln was at least old enough to move himself, shuffling along on his knees because he wasn't daring enough to try his feet to the floor. He was just happy with the fact that he could move at all, much to the growing stress of his English mother. There was a window for when children should start walking, and he was steadily veering a little past the latter end of it.

She watched him as she sat with pursed lips, dark eyes taking in every joyous movement in an overly baby-proofed living room.

"Stop." Lucy said the second she was close enough to see the way she watched. The smallest, newest member of their knit family was settled peacefully in her arms.

She didn't reply. There was no need. It wasn't a conversation she was willing to approach yet; there was still time. She tore her gaze away and let it land on Lucy, instead.

"What?" She asked her. It forced the Brit's eyebrows to raise.

"What?" She asked back.

"You're thinking too much." Lucy pointed out finally. It was barely an interaction at all. Eye contact and that was it, "If it's not the babe's super happy crawling, then what's it about?"

Shifting a hand, Penny pat the space beside her in silence. She was given a barely scrutinising glance for the offer before Lucy ended up taking it. She sat, carefully at that so she couldn't disturb the sleeping mess she had tucked into her arms so close to her chest. There, she sat in silence as she waited for her counterpart to find the words she wanted to offer. Sometimes it was a process, and the ink manipulator had known to develop patience for it.

"They're sons."

"Boys, yeah."

"We have two boys."

"They're great kids."

"No, I-" Penny paused briefly, turning her head and searching the eyes of the one staring back at her. There was almost sympathy lining her own gaze as she reached a hand out and settled it against her thigh. Fingernails dared to trace the bare skin exposed by the high cut of the shorts she wore. There was comfort in that; "I love them."

"I know."

"I'm in love with them."

Lucy laughed then, low from the base of her throat as she offered a genuine smile; "I know."

"The kind I doubted I could ever have." She went on, and she glanced down to the boy in the arms of her wife on instinct, "I love you, but I love them."

It was a beautiful sentiment. There was nothing bad to take from it. It was one of the things that elevated her own love and adoration to a new status. "But they're boys."

"Boys." Penny reiterated, catching her eyes again with a slight stint of panic; "They're going to be men."

And without much more warning, Lucy seemed to catty a kind of acknowledgement in her eyes. They had had a son for over a year now, and two was an obviously new load of distress, but recognition of a later stage in life seemed to finally hit her; "Oh."

Penny just nodded. No words necessary.

There was no father here.

Lucy looked forward, eyebrows lowering as she found herself deep in thought. "You've got a dad-"

"No." The last thing she wanted to do was to ask that of her father.

"Michael-"

"Never." Penny doubted there was a worse person to talk to their boys about being boys when the time came to force that conversation.

Until Lucy continued; "My dad?"

And Penny just stared at the profile of her love's face, her own eyes adopting an obvious kind of disbelief. As much as she loved Luka Serrano, his lackluster approach to parenting was never something she wanted to take on. "I'd much rather your mother." And that was saying something, given the topic of conversation.

She would have done a pretty good, unbiased job. Lucy's mother was a Godsend. She was easily the kind of parent both sort of willed themselves to be. Understanding when she needed to be. Gracious in part, too. She may have had a strained relationship with Lucy in her youth, but it was only because she chose to push her to find a sense of realism in the world where she didn't have a care. Now, she had three.

"Well, I mean, I'm no her, but-" Lucy drawled, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips in her own thought, "I'll do it."

Silence, briefly. From the simplicity of being stunned. Wide eyes; "You'll do it."

"Yeah, when the time comes, and they're a bit older, I will one-hundred percent take any and all penis-related conversations off your hands." Lucy said finally. If one of them was bound to approach the topic directly - now and in the future - it would be herself. Because the simple way Penny cringed at the word was proof enough of the importance; "Like if they ask you, you are obligated to pass that to me like straight away."

And then she almost - almost - looked desperate; "Seriously?"

"Seriously." She replied with a nod, "For their entire lives."

Distressed cleared from Penny's expression at a slower pace, because it took time to register the serious, steely expression in those usually humoured dark eyes. But there was no grin - she wasn't lying and she wasn't making fun of the Brit for her own expenses. She was completely, truly serious.

Fingernails tightened against her skin on instinct.

"You need to put the baby down."

[Caleb Xue]

Picture
Word Count: 549
Note: This took a turn I didn’t see coming.
June (2016) Writing Challenge

Caleb unlocked the front door. He stepped inside the house. “I’m home!” He called through the house. He didn’t realized how much he missed being in this house. It was the house he grew up in. Childhood memories came back. Happily running around. The wild imaginary adventures he went on. The blanket and pillow forts he would build. And sometimes he was allowed to sleep in them. Besides the good there were some unhappy memories. Like when he got sent to his room because he didn’t something he shouldn’t have. Not allowed to have dessert because he needed to eat his vegetables first. The simple things kids worry about.

“In the kitchen!” Uncle Lei called.

Caleb navigated his way to the kitchen. At the dining table sat Lei. The young man smiled. He wrapped his uncle in a hug. “Happy father’s day.”

“Thanks, bud. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. I’m still a part student at community college. And still looking for a job. Are you ready?” Caleb was going to treat Lei and Julia to dinner tonight. Celebrate being a father even though Lei never had a child of his own. Lei was most certainly a father to his nephew.

“I’m ready. I think Princess Julia is still getting ready.” Lei stood up. “I’ll tell her to hurry up.” Lei left the kitchen and went to the bedroom to get his wife.

Caleb chuckled. He went to wait in the living room. He looked at the pictures on the bookcase. One caught his attention. In the picture there were two young teenagers. Caleb knew both of the faces. One was a young version of Lei. But that wasn’t who Caleb was looking at. He was looking at the other teen. He was looking at his dad. He looked happy in the picture. Who would of ever thought the man would divorce and dump his kid on his brother.

When his parents divorced, little Caleb couldn’t understand why his parents didn’t want to live together. He couldn’t understand why neither of them wanted to be with him. All he did know was that he was going to live with his uncle and aunt. He was happy with them. And he looked at his uncle and aunt as his parents.

Since the divorced Caleb hadn’t seen either of his parents. Not a single phone call. Nothing. It was like they dropped off the face of the earth. Caleb had asked Lei about his dad. Unfortunately, Lei had also lost touch with him.

“The princess is ready.” Lei announced as he and Julia entered the living room.

Caleb turned to face Lei and Julia. He smiled brightly at them. Lei and Julia both caught Caleb looking at the picture. They both knew their nephew was hurting a little.

“Hi Auntie,” he went over to hug his Julia.

“Hello sweetie.”

“Let’s get going. I’m starving.” Lei complained.

“Let’s go feed the hungry kid.” Caleb headed for the door.

“You’re one to talk.” Lei called after his nephew.

Julia knew she was going to have to babysit the two boys. She followed her two favorite boys out to the car.

Before Lei left the house, he took a quick glance at the picture. “You should be with him.” He told the picture.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Father and Daughter

So you'll always know,
As long as one and one is two,
There could never be a father
Who loved his daughter more than I love you.

Sean finished spooning oatmeal into bowls and setting the table for breakfast. He popped the English muffins from the toaster oven, pulled the butter and strawberry jam from the refrigerator, and then projected to the two other members of the house, It’s time for breakfast! Come down!

The telepathic breakfast call spared his throat and worked well in the absence of a bell.

He poured milk into a glass for Eleanor and poured two cups of coffee – one he left black for his partner and the other he went to work altering with added sugar and Half and Half. Sixty-seven years old, and he still couldn’t stand the bitterness of unsweetened coffee.

Once he had finished with that most important task, he settled at his place at the table and began to eat. His family could join him in progress.

Sure enough, he’d only eaten two spoonfuls of oatmeal when Josh’s footsteps drew nearer, and his partner joined him in the kitchen. “Good morning,” the other man greeted him.

Sometimes, Sean wondered whether Josh had a heretofore undiscovered meta-human ability, and that he was aging out of sync with the rest of the world. Otherwise that Josh had a painting of himself as an old man in the attic.

Despite the fact that the attorney would begin collecting Social Security next year, he looked only a year or two older than fifty.

Sean hoped Eleanor took after Josh that way, although they wouldn’t know for at least a few more years. When she would either graduate high school looking like a high schooler or looking like she was studying for her Bat Mitzvah.

He didn’t hear her footsteps on the stairs, and a brief telepathic sweep of the house confirmed that she was still up in her room. Of course she was; she was still nervous.

So was Josh. The younger man, after taking his seat beside Sean, leaned in to rest his head on the telepath’s shoulder. Taking advantage of the fact that their daughter hadn’t come down yet, since it was a gesture of vulnerability, one that the attorney would keep to himself in front of her.

That was part of parenthood.

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?”

“Of course.” Sean turned his head so he could brush soft lips across his partner’s cheek. “She needs it, and we should just be happy she doesn’t have to move away to get the help she needs.”

The way Sean had needed to when he was her age.

He never regretted doing so, since there had been no other (legal) options, and there had been no practical alternatives. Though he knew that Josh had believed he exaggerated when he discussed how Hammel saved his sanity, the telepath did no such thing. It was a fact.

That Eleanor could receive the same help he had but with the added bonus of coming home every night, sleeping in her childhood bedroom without the need for roommates or dorm monitors was a boon for which he felt grateful. For which he knew the other man was begrudgingly grateful, even if Josh wouldn’t couch it in such terms.

Sweetheart?, Sean projected upstairs to his daughter. Your breakfast is getting cold.

Unsurprisingly, she gave no mental response, but, a minute later, the telepath heard her door open, followed by her footsteps down the hall.

In anticipation, he kissed the top of Josh’s head again and redirected the conversation. “I want to get something special for supper tonight, and so I’ll need you to pick it up on your way home.”

The other man correctly interpreted this to mean that they were done cuddling for the moment, and, with only a split-second of lingering, he shifted and righted himself. “What do you want to order?” He asked while reaching for his coffee; black, as always, the only right way to do it.

“We’ll let her pick.”

Footsteps on the stairs alerted them both to the fact that their daughter would join them any moment.

“I’ll handle this, the older man promised Josh, reaching across the table to pat the attorney’s hand. Though his partner said nothing, Sean felt his assent regardless.

Eleanor stepped quietly into the kitchen. Eyes planted firmly on her feet, she crossed to the table and sat down without saying anything or looking at either of her parents. If she took notice of the food in front of her to do more than reach for her spoon, neither man could tell.

Rather than asking how she slept, since Sean knew for a fact that the answer was poorly, and Josh could hazard a guess to the same effect, the telepath instead asked, “Would you like me to brush your hair before we leave? We’ll have a few minutes.”

All through elementary school, Sean had brushed her hair for her. When she started sixth grade, she had declared herself too old for that type of assistance, and he had backed off accordingly. Still, he thought that, perhaps, the familiarity would do her some good today.

“No, thanks,” she mumbled into her oatmeal.

He wouldn’t get discouraged.

“If you change your mind, let me know.” Although she wouldn’t look at him, he smiled at her all the same. So did Josh.

The rest of breakfast passed slowly and silently, with Eleanor cleaning her plate and her bowl, but saying nothing beyond those couple of words. Both the attorney and the telepath said nothing aloud either, although they had a lively enough mental conversation, with Sean assuring Josh that all of this was both normal and nothing to be concerned about.

After both men had finished their breakfast and each drank two cups of coffee, and Eleanor had finished with her food, Sean rose to begin clearing the table. Josh took the opportunity to cross to their daughter, lean down, and kiss her cheek. “I’m just a phone call away,” he reminded her with an encouraging smile – feigned the way he did in court since he still felt worried about this. Sean was insistent and he trusted the telepath implicitly, but still...this was their baby.

“I know, Papa,” he mumbled.

“Give me a hug?” He requested, not grabbing her as he would have were either of them in a more excited mood.

She complied with the request, managing to wrap her arms around Josh without lifting her head. The attorney squeezed her tighter than she would want him to do in front of her friends, but they were alone in their own kitchen with only Sean for an audience.

Josh reluctantly released her when she began to pull away. “I’ll see you tonight,” he promised.

“Okay.”

The telepath finished rinsing the dishes and set the in the dishwasher, and then he dried his hands. “I’ll meet you in the garage,” he told Eleanor before she could slink back upstairs to grab her backpack and put on her shoes.

As soon as they were alone, the telepath wrapped his arms around Josh’s waist, pulled the younger man closer, and touched their foreheads together. “I’ll call you during lunch,” he promised. Even if their daughter said nothing to him through the day, Sean would have some form of update for the attorney, and he knew Josh would appreciate news, whatever it was.

“Thank you,” his partner told him gratefully, and then he craned twisted his neck and lifted his head so he could brush their lips together.

By the time Sean had pulled on his jacket and shoes and had grabbed his briefcase, Eleanor was already outside the garage. She stood there, backpack in one hand, shoulders slumped, staring at her shoes.

The telepath placed one large hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go,” he encouraged her. Each crossed the garage, and slid into the car as soon as the doors were unlocked. They took the minute needed to fasten their seatbelts, and then Sean twisted the key in the ignition – the car roared to life, and he began to drive.

“I know it’s overwhelming right now,” he told her, once they had pulled out of the garage. This was the point during a pep talk that Robert would have offered one of his incredibly comforting smiles, but Sean wasn’t his mentor, Eleanor wasn’t Sean, and the telepath knew his daughter well enough to know she would appreciate the candor and seriousness of the conversation – with no frills. “I’ve had most of my life to think about this, and, even fifty-five years later, I don’t think there’s ever a good time to manifest as a psychic. No matter when, it’s always the wrong time.”

Always in the middle of the school year, so one had to uproot. Or, in Sean’s case, even manifesting over the summer hadn’t helped him. Of course, that had been in the pre-Internet era, when he didn’t live in the same town as Hammel, nobody in his family had ever known a meta-human, and his powers had masked his meta-human status. Those had been three of the most agonizing months of his life, both then and in retrospect. But manifesting upset routine and Eleanor was a Neville – she relied on the consistency of their family routine, of knowing all her teachers and all the other students. She knew so many of the Hammel faculty through Sean, but that wasn’t the same thing as knowing the students. It only served to make school interactions awkward. James and Chase became Doctor and Mister Campbell.

Not to mention that the powers themselves were jarring, because they always involved rewiring one’s brain (at least in the case of psychics, and psychics were the only meta-human powers that ran in the Neville family. With their admittedly small sample size, they were two for two). In his experience, nobody ever listed the psychic power they developed as the meta-human power they wanted if given the choice. Certainly, Sean knew that Eleanor wouldn’t have chosen hers.

The side effects alone would require a new routine, and she would be in so much pain. It hurt Sean to know his little girl – not so little anymore – would suffer some of the side effects he’d experienced at her age. It hurt him to think that she might experience even a fraction of the self-doubt and social isolation.

He and Josh had resolved to do everything they could to mitigate that.

“I know you probably don’t want special treatment, and I’m going to be as hands-off as you need, but I was given final say over your trainer,” he informed her. Honesty – complete honesty. That had always been the Neville-Bernstein family motto, at least since Sean had discovered his pregnancy and told Josh point-blank that this was how he wanted to raise their child. “There are a couple of people who work with the psychic students, and I picked the person whose training style if the least jarring. If you don’t mesh, tell me immediately, and we’ll pick someone else.”

He had survived to graduation because of the close relationship he shared with Robert. While he doubted that Eleanor would attain that with any trainer at Hammel, in part because they wouldn’t be two telepaths bonding as only telepaths could, he wanted his daughter to have as close an approximation as she could. A good trainer was paramount to learning to control one’s powers and to cope with one’s side effects.

If he could train her himself, he would, but that wasn’t an option; he was a psychiatrist, not a powers trainer.

She didn’t look up from where her gaze had fixated on her lap. “Okay.”

“I hated eating alone in the cafeteria,” he added; he shared that trait with every non-misanthropic teenager in the history of the United States if not the world at large. Although he didn’t mind eating alone in life, finding himself seated alone in such a public and social venue only further underscored his isolation at that age. “So if you want to have lunch in my office, you can. We’ll close the door so nobody will see you eating with me. I don’t have any lunch meetings, and so you don’t have to let me know ahead of time; you can just show up unannounced.”

“Okay.”

Now was the time for the reassuring smile, and so he smiled into the rearview mirror in the off-chance she lifted her head. The first few weeks are the hardest, but it gets a little easier over time.” He knew that from personal experience, and then from over thirty-years of professional observations. “But you’ll still see your friends on weekends, and you still have Hebrew School,” he reminded her.

“And there’s a good chance that some of your friends will manifest too.”

Of her three closest friends, all three were the product of a union between a meta-human and a non-powered person. As far as anyone could tell, meta-human status wasn’t guaranteed by parental origin (obviously since it appeared in some families and not others...until it did), but surely it increased the odds. Both Griff and Riley had such strong powers, like Sean did, far stronger than Cobalt was, but only time would tell. Levi’s children had two meta parents, and would probably manifest as well. Since they were all the same age, this meant that they would join her in her academic classes if and when they did.

“When?”

“I can’t say,” he admitted. If he had the power to predict meta-human power manifestation, he would be the Head of Recruiting and the most successful person ever to hold that job title. “I manifested young too – it’s luck of the draw.”

She didn’t say anything in reply, although she nodded without lifting her gaze.

He settled for that, since he didn’t expect anything else.

They traveled the familiar path to Hammel, although without making the stopover he did every morning at her old school. When they arrived, he pulled his car into his designated spot and turned off the engine. Although he unfastened his seatbelt, he didn’t open the door. Instead, he turned around in the seat so that he could face her more fully. “I felt overwhelmed when I was your age,” he told her. As always, he chose his words carefully – he didn’t place expectations upon her, only shared his own experiences so she could have a frame of reference. “But Papa and I love you very much, and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“I love you too.”

That was force of habit; nobody in the Neville-Bernstein household ever allowed an I love you to pass by without acknowledgement. Still, he knew that she meant it, even if she wasn’t focused on those feelings right now.

It was enough that he and Josh supported her; they were, after all, her fathers.

“Are you ready?”

She shrugged, which he took as an affirmative answer. As ready as she could be under the circumstances.

“Then let’s get started. I’ll show you were my office is and then walk you to class, if you want.”

She wasn’t embarrassed by the offer, given how she nodded, not resigned but rather accepting. Perhaps she wanted that familiarity right now. He couldn’t fault her; he had wanted the same thing at her age, but his neither his mother nor his father had been able to walk him to class.

“Let’s go.” Doors opened and both of them slid out of the vehicle. Sean grabbed his suitcase, while Eleanor grabbed her backpack. Then, after locking the doors, they began to walk towards the school entrance.

“If you want something to look forward to, we’re ordering takeout tonight and you can choose anywhere you want.”

He knew that was cold comfort given the anxiety and the heaviness of the situation, but that was what he could offer right now. The promise of takeout and his eternal love and protection.