#⸻ ✧ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⟨ sasha grimm ⟩

[smthliminal]

Even if she knew the day would come didn't help one bit with the fact that it was now here. Teddy needed to know about his father. It may have been foolish for Nicola to have accepted without reason that the conversation would come about because her son finally had serious questions and wanted to know. Rather than her needing to sit the boy down and explain to him who his new hockey coach was.

Something about her little brothers words along with a nagging feeling of complete selfishness, Nicola was dawning on the idea that she'd taken the easy way out. She'd left it up to the child in the situation to get to a point where he had to seek out answers, when perhaps all along she should've had the information out there. That guilt stirring in her gut and slumping her shoulders wasn't extended to Henry even if she was also nervous and anxious about how he'd take the sudden knowledge of having his resemblance out there living.

"You're right, I really should be a grown up and sit Teddy down and —" Nicola blew air out of her mouth, a heavy sigh of all the emotion filling her up like cement. "Have the conversation I should've done before now. He's a smart kid. Not just intellectually, also emotionally — even a year or two ago, I should've let him know. Should've let him decide." The only culpability Nicola felt involving her ex-husband was that she'd inadvertently kept her son from knowing his father. Should Teddy have chosen to seek him out, and of course he would have.

"I'm a bad mom," she admitted, the sadness in her eyes welling up as her fingers scrambled for another cigarette. "What the fuck was I doing, Sash?" It wasn't something anyone could answer and as gentle as her little brother was attempting to be she needed a harsh truth. She needed someone to lash at her and tell her all the bad things she was, that she felt, so that she could cocoon herself and begin to mend. It was something she'd done many times over in life. Retreated inward, taking her licks, and finding her resolve.

"Well," she looked up through the blur of her emotions, "you still know people, right?" A little smirk broke through the weight of everything she was feeling. "I'm probably going to need to be sedated after I tell him, and then need something else, I don't even know, when I talk to Henry." Of course she shouldn't be asking her sober brother for a supply, Nicola was mostly kidding with the ask. The dramatics were a result of her nerves and the need to ease and lessen all of the anxiety and impending doom she felt.

On his way to and from their mother's car to retrieve the joint, Nicola watched his careful steps. The big sister, and now natural mothering nature in her sat at the edge of her seat ready to rush to his rescue should Sasha slip. They had many differences, what would she do without him though. He took such good care of their mother and she was grateful to him for that. When he returned and the joint was lit Nicola took a deep pull into her little lungs, expanding her chest to the fullest to accommodate such an inhale then slowly let it out. Before she handed it over to her brother she did the exact thing one more time.

It wasn't long before she began to feel it's effects and in the silence of them smoking, she thought deep of how and what she was going to say to her son. Sasha's softness broke through and she pulled out of her haze of thoughts to turn to him. "Even if I didn't tell him about his father all this time? He watched him on tv. He's a fan." Fuck, she really was a shit. Another sigh left her and she reached out her hand for the joint. "Are you going to stay for dinner?"

‎ “oh, a hundred percent. he’s absolutely an idiot. a complete moron, if you ask me.”

sasha has no intentions of changing his sister’s situation—because it’s not like he could, even if he wanted to—this, now, is her burden to bear, but that doesn’t mean it’s hers alone. if the most he can offer is the least bit of comfort and encouragement that things will be okay even if he has no real certainty on his side, then he will lie to her until she starts to believe it. delusion can be a gift, in the right context.

and it works, somewhat, nicola waveringly accepting his contribution of consoling words with a side of violent threats that he probably won’t really act on. for both nicola and teddy’s sake. but at least his sister knows that she’s got some brawns to summon in case she needs them.

a leg swinging against the table, foot brushing just a few inches above the ground, he finishes his cigarette, taking in the last few puffs while nicola laments about the life she could’ve had with the husband she could’ve kept, anguish strung around each syllable, punctuating her words with a sort of astringent passion she’d been harboring for eleven years. a half-formed thought like, well, you divorced him threatened to spill with the smoke billowing from his lips but he chooses, perhaps wisely, to keep these thoughts to himself, instead muttering quiet acknowledgments like no, you’re right or absolutely not to affirm his sister’s pain.

but who does she tell first? “good question.” sasha buys himself some time for the wisdom his sister knows he doesn’t really have, properly putting out the spent end of his cigarette against the ashtray, the other three still burning around the edges like incense. “if i were teddy… i’d probably hate it a lot if my dad who i didn’t know for eleven years and who just so happens to now be my new hockey coach just pulled me aside one day to tell me i was his son. that would suck a lot. ‘cause then i would think he and my mom planned this whole thing and didn’t include me. even if that’s not really what happened.” he’s overthinking and it’s probably not helping nicola’s already frazzled mental state. casting a sincere look at his sister, he adds, “it’s always been you and teddy against the world. maybe you should tell him first. let him know you’re on his side.” did that make sense at all? he’s not sure. man, nicola’s in a real shitty pickle. he would so hate to be her right now. 

“you coulda asked me that two years ago,” he quips at his sister asking him for something stronger, pushing himself off of the table and starting towards the driveway. careful with his steps so he doesn’t slip on the frozen ground and break his fucking back. inside the car, the joint is nestled behind the rose-scented air freshener in the center console, freshly rolled that morning when he’d been planning to smoke during his break before tomiko dragged him to lunch. joint gingerly pinched between his fingers, he returns to the porch and hands it over to nicola, grabbing the lighter on the table to light it for her.

he lets nicola take her first deep breath and he settles on the ground by the steps, against one of the wooden beams holding up the roof. he gets comfortable, both legs folded and crossed while he watches his sister, waiting for the calming effects to kick in. it’s pretty strong stuff. he can’t remember the last time they got high together. he thinks it must’ve been the day his mom and nicola helped him move into his college dorm room. a few hours before they would get dinner. the night before they’d catch their flight back to minnesota and leave him in raleigh for the next four years. an entire year before he would ruin his life for a girl.

“you did a good job with teddy,” he voices out, for no particular reason other than he just felt like saying it out loud. to remind her, in case she forgot. “ i need you to know that. for whatever happens when you tell ‘em. i dunno.” at the risk of too much cheese, he shrugs, offering some nonchalance. 

[smthliminal]

Oh, he was going for it. Maintaining eye contact with a smoldering look over the shoulder as he reached for the gloves and put those offensively pink things on his hands. All right before doing the dishes. Tomiko was mid fold with the pizza box when she paused and allowed her jaw to drop. It was excessive for show. "Wow, that's hot." Not only did she fan herself with the pizza box, the bookseller also bit her bottom lip. "Do you do private parties?"

Apparently the show was over as quickly as it began and she went back into her mission of breaking down the cardboard along with collecting remaining trash. Tomiko made it all fit in the expandable white garbage bag.

"It's always fucking Denise." In unbridled disappointment, Tomiko shook her head and rolled her eyes. Purposefully overdoing it. You know, to match the tone and pace of the horrifically cheesy and fairly dirty read they were all subjected to for the month. "She lingers a lot in the romance sections at the store. I think I even overheard her telling Pollyanne about the audiobooks. I hope you feel fortunate they didn't ask you to read any excerpts aloud."

When the bag was cinched and tied up Tomiko set it by the door and then grabbed a dish towel to dry the few things Sasha had managed to wash after he'd given up on the Tupperware container. "I'm repressed too but I'm not making people read porn. And why does it always have to be hetero? It's so — yuck." After making a sick face she glanced out toward the living room where she could hear the lulling sounds of the news. "What does mom think of it? Denise's Harlequin picks?" Sasha hadn't caught it the first time she'd said it so she decided to see how long she could get away with it.

With a little smirk tucked into the corner of her mouth Tomiko lightly smacks Sasha in the face with the dish towel to free him of the suds he'd scattered on his forehead and hair. "Wait — she stabbed him in the leg after that?" Truth be told, Tomiko skimmed the read. Denise's picks were always atrocious and she had bigger fish to fry. "I guess that's not so boring." Her petite shoulders rose and fell, non-committal.

"They always seem to find my books boring or not quite so into them." Maybe it was due to her titles not meant to liven up the midwestern middle aged woman. "We can always buddy read it, though," Tomiko suggested, thinking fondly of A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki. "Rope mom into it unless you'd rather do the whole cute date thing one on one between us," she winked.

‎ he'd already started spraying the dishes with the retractable faucet head when tomiko makes the comment about the gloves. smirking as if accepting the dare, he maintains eye contact with tomiko, looking over his shoulder as he reaches for the rubber gloves from the wiry rack just below the window. not yellow, but a bright neon pink that almost hurts to look at. close enough. he slips them on, soaps up the sponge, and gets to work. 

behind him, he can hear tomiko dismantling the boxes and behind her, the faint murmur of the television from the living room where his mother is watching the six o’clock news. it's comforting, this simulation of domesticity, the soothing, steady thrumming of life. later, when tomiko is gone, he will turn off all the lights and lock the doors and then there will be quiet. 

this is why he hates having people over sometimes. 

“it was denise, i think.”

he tries to scrub out a particularly stubborn tomato sauce stain at the bottom of a microwave-safe dish, putting his shoulder into it. 

“she always picks the raunchiest stuff. i think she’s repressed or something.”

he used to feel bad for gossiping about his mother’s book club members with tomiko, but after hearing what some of them, especially denise, had to say about him and his mom behind his mom’s back, the guilt has quickly worn off.

also, who in the ever-loving fuck thought it was a good idea to heat frozen lasagna roll ups on a white microwavable plastic container?

“yeah, she’s kind of a homebody.” he doesn’t even notice how tomiko refers to stella, too busy trying to get the stains on the dish out before deciding to just set it aside for the moment, let it soak, and move on to another plate. he hears tomiko get closer, her voice panning over his shoulder until she crosses to his side. he gives her a quick glance, smiling coyly when she points out how little he’d shared about the book. to be fair, he doesn’t really go to book club, but seeing as he lives here and he kind of just has to be around in case his mom needs anything, he’s forced to sit there and sometimes, yeah, he’ll say a thing or two about the book, if it piques his interest enough.

“oh. uh. i just…” he shakes his head. his forehead itches, so he uses the back of his wrist to dab on it, leaving a clump of soap bubbles hanging on his clipped curls. “kinda lost track after the part where veronica makes out with that accountant in the car then stabs him in the leg.” or were those two separate events they’d talked about? he hadn’t really read the book. he rarely does. "they should've just gone with your suggestion. now, i woulda read that." he couldn't even remember what tomiko's book was called, and it isn't her turn yet to pick, but he's sure it's probably pages more interesting than what denise had.

[smthliminal]

The amount of overwhelm she felt since seeing Henry, well, Henry and their son he doesn't know about standing together and talking like a father and son should about a sport they were both passionate about, would either knock her out completely tonight (exhaustion depression sleep) or her tiny self would need horse tranquilizers. "True," Nicola replied, she did have a big brain, and felt tears sting her eyes. It wasn't so much about her ex-husband anymore. The emotion tightening her throat was over her son and how his life was going to change. Also, the terror for the possibility that Teddy may hate her.

No tears were falling down her cheeks and Nicola still lifted a smoking hand to swipe a small finger along her soft cheek. "Is Henry really an idiot because he didn't want me anymore?" A pathetically sad, wounded look was glowered up at her brother. This passionate defense was, especially in putting down the man that hurt her so badly, landed well despite how poorly it was delivered. It was more so that Sasha's heart was in the right place. For years following the divorce Nicola only gotten through her days because she had a baby that depended on her, outside of Teddy she had been completely ruined, and that was hugely piteous. There had just been destruction in finally being seen by someone, chosen, to feel on top of the world because she was special and then for it all to truly just be some big laugh in the end? Had the powers that be had a good laugh at her expense?

Oh, Nicola Grimm, you thought someone was actually going to love you and put you first? Jokes. She'd gone from feeling on top of the world to having a husband that wouldn't even come home on their anniversary. Another woman had answered his phone when she'd called. Her greatest fears were realized and thrown in her face by the same person that had taken vows and planned a life with her.

"Thanks for that, Sash." The picture he'd painted was a horror show and her head hung low. Nicola's mind had gone crazy that night some other woman was on the line of Henry's cell. This brutal honesty of the youngest Grimm was both a blessing and a curse. At this moment it felt like a curse. "I do think you'll pick a fight with him, yes." Henry might defend himself, her brother had rage on his side, though. "We all know how to take tall people down." Knees don't bend backward, and beyond that her brother could swing a bat better than anyone she knew. That was the thing about the Grimm clan, they may not have always gotten along swimmingly but they would happily catch a charge and do time for one another. "Anyway," her head shook, thoughts were getting carried away in the wrong direction, "he is Teddy's father. Crippling him, as satisfying as it would feel, probably isn't the best course of action." Probably.

At her brother's direction she soon found herself in the seat he'd made warm and her body slumped. A full face pout formed when he'd cleaned her out of her cigarettes. Maybe three was pushing it but what was worse is she had been itching to light another one. Nicola looked at the burning stress relievers in the ashtray longingly, her finger might have even twitched with the idea of saving at least one of them from a ground out. Sasha was insistent enough that she turned her eyes away and set them on him with a scowl settled onto her brow. "That's my problem, Sash. Does he fucking deserve a family now after he just fucking walked out on me and the life we had started building together? Do I fucking owe him my son? All he did was lend some sperm in making him. He's not been here or given a single fucking minute to this family." Anger came out. Not at her brother, it just needed to be released at the heartbreak of her current spot in life. "Do I deserve to have my son hating me because I didn't say who his father was? It wouldn't have even mattered!" Again, this wasn't against Sasha. There was a huge appreciation, despite his shit poor delivery, for everything he'd said. Nicola was emoting. Fighting against what she had to now buck up and do.

There was that pain in her throat again and a stinging in her eyes. Sasha was right. Teddy was a really good kid, all the Grimms had a hand in that, and as upset and hurt he would be that boy would be devastated for his mother. As much as it was deserved, though, she didn't really want Teddy hating his father. "Who do I tell first? Henry or Theo?" The day was always inevitable for her son and Sasha's nephew and she'd wondered if he'd ever asked her brother about his father. He'd done a good job of trying to be a male role model. Aside from a few minor questions years ago Teddy had respected her when she'd told him that his father had chosen not to be apart of their lives. In her opinion, Henry could've reached out at any point in the last decade. His choice when he'd walked away was the surest thing he'd even done.

The mention of something stronger in the car put Nicola's hand on her brother's shoulder and was reason for her to push him. "Well go get it. What the fuck?" A little laughter broke through her heavy emotions. "Have anything stronger? Like tranquilizers?"

‎ he produces a squeaky laugh as he takes another drag at how nicola sounds vaguely confused that she has to wash her goddamn mouth, but that amusement quickly wears off at her next statement. “oh, please,” swatting a dismissive hand through the air, “you’re not an idiot, nicky. you’ve got the biggest brain out of the three of us. frankly, i think you took up all the brains and left none for me.” but this isn’t his pity party he’s attending.

“now, henry…” he shifts against his seat, groaning slightly at how his joints are starting to ache in ways that a thirty-one year old's just shouldn’t yet. “henry is an idiot. maybe the idiot. the definitive version. idiot alpha, you know? i wouldn’t give him too much credit.” once, he could never imagine speaking so poorly of his former brother-in-law. hell, former brother, period. but it’s his fault that they’re even in this situation, that nicola had to raise his child on her own, that teddy only had a derelict uncle to teach him how to work a razor (and desperately try to get him into baseball before he’d declared that he would rather hit a glorified poker chip with sticks like his stupid dad), but it still does make him sad to think about, from time to time, how henry had broken their hearts this way. “and anyway, what does he care? he didn’t care about you when he went whippin’ his dick out for the first willing participant.” there’s probably a more delicate way of putting his sister’s ex-husband’s indiscretions, but you know what, screw that guy, he doesn’t deserve delicate.

he snorts derisively at nicola’s apprehension of putting him and henry in the same breathing space. “what, you think i’ll hurt him?” probably the other way around; the guy towers just a little over half an entire foot over him. plus, he’s seen the way he barrages through guys who are equally big, if not bigger, and on ice, no less… yeah, henry can definitely fuck him up. if he wanted to. but he won’t, because he’s a fucking pussy. “‘cause i will, you’re absolutely right about that.” he won’t. not successfully, anyway. not because he’s a pussy. but he is a little bit delusional and also fueled by the need to protect his family, therefore, in the same way that that mom lifted a bus to save her kid or however that story goes, he could start throwing hands and see if he can take down an adulterating sasquatch. 

and okay, look—he’s probably not being as helpful as he would like to be. he never said he was any good at giving advice, but he is good at just being there, and if nicky’s going to spiral—which, she already looks like shes on the fifth winding—he can’t let her spiral alone, at the very least. 

“okay, you,” leaping to his feet, he takes nicola by the elbows and maneuvers her to take his place on the chair, “need to sit the fuck down, and…” eyeing the three (three!) white sticks in her hands, gently plucks each one of them from her grip and places them on the ashtray, but doesn’t smudge them out just yet. “look at me? look at me. over here.” knelt down in front of his sister, one hand placed at the junction below her forearm while the other holds his own cigarette, he tries to chase nicola’s frantic browns with his blown-out blues. “teddy’s a good kid. a smart kid. he is yours.” he offers her a comforting smile. “unfortunately, he’s also henry’s, but that… doesn’t really matter. if the guy wanted a family with you, he wouldn’t have done what he did. you did what you had to. and you’re all better for it. honestly…” he banks in a deep breath, “teddy will hate you, that’s true, but” his fingers slip under his sister’s wrist, pulling her hand before she can start to protest, “only for a little while! ‘cause he’s gonna wanna process that shit and somebody needs to take the blame for him not knowing. but that kid knows that everything you’ve done has always been for him. and he knows you’re hurtin’, too. he’ll understand.”

ashing his cigarette in the ashtray, he slowly rises and hoists himself up on the table next to nicola. “also… if you actually want to smoke somethin’ good, i got one in the car. just sayin'.”

[smthliminal]

"I washed up in the sink?" It came out like a question for a reason unbeknownst to her, tone defensive, her head tucked into risen shoulders. Still, somehow, a special for Sasha alone, Nicola rolled her eyes at her brother's disgust and misfocus. If roles were reversed she'd likely have a similar adverse reaction, and since they weren't Nicola was practically offended. "I'm sure all the smoking has killed everything anyway." That...wasn't how it worked. But, whatever.

Don't be an idiot. Why, oh why, had she fretfully called Sash over for such wonderful sage advice? "I've been an idiot for thirty-six years, Sash, do you think I can just stop that now?" Voice full of derision she was making a point that a zebra couldn't change it's stripes. While her baby brother sat and lit up a cigarette Nicola also lit up another. Which made for three burning in her possession. A small hand scrubbed at her face unsure what it could actually do for her, maybe it was to wake her up or realize this wasn't actually happening.

"Henry was gone when I came out of the bathroom. Do you," Nicola leaned back against the banister that wrapped around her porch, "—do you think he knows?" It was a reach that her ex-husband would put that much together yet anyone with half a brain could do the math. Still, she hoped she was taking a leap. "It was just me, right?"

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

The secondhand smoke on her front porch was enough to choke someone, unfortunately the bad habit was just about one of the only stress relievers that she could easily partake in. "He's showering then working on a school project that's due the day he's back fro holiday break," Nicola answered, eyes away peering at nothing while in thought overload. When her attention came back to Sasha she found him attempting to make smoke rings. A quiet sigh eased out of her then. Why would he take this seriously? She only felt like her life had blown up.

Despite her annoyance she listened anyway. Nicola scrunched up at her face over the thin margin of options ahead of her. "No," inhale, exhale and a shake of her head, "as much as I want to cower away and let you handle all the tough stuff I can't put you and Henry in a room together." Unless he was meaning Theodore, in which, that was still not the best idea. "It has to come from me, to both, as much as I'd rather the earth swallow me up. I just don't want Teddy to hate me." A shift of her hip at the discomforting feeling in her chest. Fingers held away with a burning cigarette, her thumb, ring finger, and pinky gently rubbed at her chest. A sour expression sat on her face. "Do you think he'll hate me?" She couldn't care any less of Henry's opinion, she did worry about her son.

‎ it's one thing for the father of your child to be walking the same streets as him, oblivious to the fact that they both exist, but to be that involved in the kid's life with neither of them knowing what they actually are to each other? sasha would've combusted right then and there.

the trepidation in his sister's limbs is palpable, every molecule vibrating with worry, fear, guilt, maybe anger. no wonder she threw up.

she threw up?

"okay... ew." nicola had already pulled away by then, just in time to see the face he makes at that information, nose scrunched up and lips coiled as if there was any trace of his sister's unfortunate bathroom incident still present. "did you at least brush your teeth before callin' me over here?" he's kidding—partly, because it would actually be gross if she didn't—yet another attempt to lighten the mood. "hey." more somber now, a heavy hand finds its way to her shoulder, putting some weight on it to keep her grounded. "don't be an idiot." the foreboding words softened by an easy smile. words of wisdom, clearly. he gives her a gentle shove, pushing himself back until the back of his knees hit the chair behind him. sitting down, he lights himself a cigarette from the pack sitting innocently on the edge of the table next to the ashtray.

"where's t-dawg?" a single puff produces a small cloud of smoke. he takes another drag, tries to make rings in the air the way gracie taught him. "look, you said henry's his new hockey coach. so there's no attachment there yet, right?" no smoke rings. he never did get any good at that. "you gotta tell 'em sooner rather than later, sis. it's the only way you can save face. i mean, unless you told the kid that his daddy's dead or that he was conceived via a stork arriving dead in the night. then you're rightfully screwed an' i can't help you there. unless... you want me to tell 'em? no, that would be weird... unless— hm, no..."

[smthliminal]

It was incredible what a good support system could do for a person, and Nicola often counted herself lucky for the family she'd been blessed with. The only real regret she'd had was the fact that she never really had gotten to know her father as well as she had always wanted. By the time he was retired she was long gone from the family home in Minnesota. In fact she'd been married and living in Pennsylvania with the very hockey star turned now ex-husband that had caused all of this strife today.

There was zero hesitation in walking into her brother's arms, a place that had long been counted as safe and healing, Nicola hadn't even put out her cigarette. Too distracted by the trouble that had just popped up in her life she unfortunately let some ash fall on Sasha's shoulder. The old rhyme eased some tension and slowed the anxiety that had been winding up for a record breaking meltdown. She held onto Sasha and breathed in that distinctive skunky odor.

"Bananas and hats..." Nicola mumbled against his shoulder, almost onto her toes, around the cigarette between her lips. Before she burnt up his jacket or smoked Sasha out, she'd reached up and let the burning cigarette join the one she'd had ready for lighting between her fingers. "He's here, Sasher. In Woodside." In case her brother needed clarification. Still glad that the rhyme she and their older sister had created still worked on them, though it could've been his soothing speech pattern and the warmth of his embrace. "He's one of Teddy's new hockey coaches. Fuck my life."

Over time, whenever her son had asked about his father, she'd told him the truth without being too harsh and blunt. Nicola knew that the day would eventually come that Teddy would want to know his father's name, who he was, and to meet him. This was just now something thrust on her without any preparation. Not only was there so much guilt and fear surfacing over the fact that she'd never told Henry he had a child, but the pain of someone unloving you was beginning to seep back in.

"I threw up," she announced and slowly peeled away to lean her petite body against the front porch railing. "Embarrassed the fuck out of myself running off sick for the toilet." Not wanting to face her ex-husband was part one of her assuming she needed to start packing some boxes, part two was the mortification of her reaction. "So, clearly, I have to leave town." They both knew she wouldn't actually leave their mother and him, even if she could be that dramatic.

‎ it used to be that the sight of his sister with a cigarette in her hand had been just the right blackmail material he needed to have full remote control privilege for an entire month. that is, until he'd started getting into the same habit in college—horrible for an athlete but good enough for his then-girlfriend—and it only reminds him of how much life they've lived, the years between the ignorant bliss of childhood and the clusterfuck of dread and anxieties of being a full-fledged adult. judging by the collection of cigarette butts on the ashtray, and another two sticks between nicola's fingers, dread and anxiety appear to have beat him to his sister's front porch.

he lets her ramble on, zeroes in on what sounds like the same information he'd been hit with over the phone but with a renewed concentration, a small crease forming between his brows at the exerted effort. and it's all harmless ranting until nicky brings up "packing?" he cuts in, taking another step towards his sister. "whoa, whoa, whoa... let's not..." he huffs out a breath of nervous laughter, shoving his keys into his pocket, preparing to take action. holding his arms out, he moves into his sister's space in a gesture they're both well-familiar with. "hey, okay, c'mere. slow down. c'mere." he wraps nicky's considerably much smaller frame around his arms, never mind that the smell of weed had probably clung to the sherpa lining of his jacket from half an hour ago.

"apples and limes..."

inhale.

"...horses and dimes."

exhale.

"strawberries and cats..."

taking another deep inhale, he pulls away only slightly for nicky to continue the rhyme. this had been an exercise his sisters used to do with him when he was younger which seemed to be one of the few things that got him to settle down. over the years, it was just something they all did for each other whenever they got overwhelmed. an estranged husband making a sudden reappearance after over a decade seems like the right time for the rhyme game.

"you're not packing, alright?" sasha mumbles into nicky's hair. "over my dead fuckin' body. or henry's."

[smthliminal]

When Sasha moved away from his struggle with the pizza boxes the 5'1'' Tomiko moved in. While he began busying himself with the dishes in the sink, she, who promised to stay back and aid in clean up, began unfolding the pizza cardboard. "You know I only stick around for your mom's praise and affection." A little smile was cut over to Sasha. "You'd look really cute if you put those yellow gloves on. Would really brighten up your whole ensemble," she teased. One pizza box was broken down and folded up like origami, ready to be tucked into the trash bag.

"Who was it that had this month's pick? I'm going to need a warning next time before diving into a porn novel." It was awful, too. Romance novels were far from realistic and without a doubt, ten times out of ten, it was always for the heteroes. Next pizza box bullied into submission. "I wouldn't mind having them at my place. I've got a cool reading room with shelves and a gliding ladder." Tomiko lit up when speaking about it. Dark academia, eat your heart out. "I just thought this was easier for mom." With a little smirk, she stole a playful glance of Sasha, wondering if he'd catch that. "Looks like my gyoza was a hit. You know what I noticed?" Last pizza box dismantled, she turned to him and rested her hip agains the counter. "You were oddly silent on your thoughts about the read," Tomiko called out, not waiting on him to question.

closed starter for @smthliminal ( tomiko sakurai ) location: stella & sasha's house time: saturday evening, after stella grimm's bi-monthly book club meeting

‎ sasha, with all the strength he can muster as a 175-pound physically active male, is busy wrestling with the trash can beside the sink, vehemently trying to shove an empty pizza box inside. he's too lazy to just start taking everything out to the larger bin outside like he'd be doing later, anyway. tomiko had volunteered to help clean up while his mother enjoys a cup of tea in the living room, winding down from a long day of hosting the first book club meeting of the year. naturally, that meant a potluck, as is tradition, and antonio's had graciously sponsored three boxes of their best-selling flavors for the grimm's contribution. sasha thinks that's just his boss' way of trying to win his mother's long-since wilted affections. yeah, he still sees the way he looks at her.

"thanks for stayin' behind," he says, walking towards the sink where a small pile of dishes waits to be done. he'd given up on the pizza box, instead just leaving it sitting pathetically on the cover. "y'know, you keep this up, and she might just pass on the title of book club president to you." the idea of tomiko taking over his mother's book club seems... well, right. hell, if he didn't know any better, he'd say stella had been grooming tomiko into being the hostess with the (only marginally ahead) mostest. "maybe next time we'll have book club over at your place." it's more a lighthearted threat than it is something that's been discussed as a plan, though he's not so sure how receptive tomiko will be to a bunch of middle-aged bookworms still reeling over the spicy twelfth chapter of this month's romance read, anyway.

[smthliminal]

At least she had waited until they got home before she'd called her brother in near hysterics. There'd been no adequate explanation to her son, Nicola had muttered something about maybe she'd eaten something bad and her sweet boy only showed concern from there. As soon as Teddy was upstairs cleaning up after practice and hopefully started on his homework next, Nicola began chain smoking.

It was no surprise that Sasha drove up in their mother's car, that image in her head of the youngest Grimm charging up out of breath from having run the couple of blocks over was gone.

Another lap in on her pacing she'd turned at Sasha's voice with one cigarette between her lips and another between her fingers. Lighter in the other hand. "Worse." Nicola had ranted on the phone, likely none of it making sense, but her ex-husband's name had been tossed out enough that her baby brother would get the jist. "You want to know how fucked up my life is? Hm?" Her movements were almost manic. "Guess who Teddy's hockey coach is? Go on, guess." There wasn't enough of a pause for Sasha to try. "That's right, his father that he doesn't know is his father — " She threw a hand his way, one that had a lighter tucked into the palm. "He's here. Did you know that? Henry is fucking here, Sash. What the fuck am I gunna do, Sash? How am I supposed to pack up a whole house in one night?"

closed starter for nicola grimm @smthliminal nicola's house.

he drives—not walks, even though he very well can—to nicky's house as soon as he got the call. something-something henry, something-something hockey... he couldn't quite make out the rest with how his sister was practically eating her words, though he knew that if her ex-husband is involved, it couldn't be good.

immediately, he spots her by the front porch, a thin cloud of smoke surrounding her as she restlessly paces back and forth. parking the car on the driveway, he all but leaps out of the door, bounding up the steps towards her.

"hey nicky." he greets her, stopping by the wooden pillar at the top of the steps, lightly toying with the keys dangling from his fingers. "you look like you've seen a ghost."