#he made pasta for dinner and i went nonverbal

[quietmyfearswith]

girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,830 words

warnings — few swear words, a bit of defending jacobs spoilers, not compliant with book/show ending, fluff?? bit of angst???

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — lmao i lied this comes first then in a few i’ll post the final part of public’s eye. if someone reads this pls tell me what youd be more interested in, august walker or steve rogers social media au

masterlist | series masterlist

After proving Jacob’s innocence Andy imagined things would have been smooth-sailing from there. He was wrong.

Laurie asked for a divorce; citing how their marriage was built on a lie and that it was time to be truthful to themselves and to Jacob. They both also agreed that it wasn’t just working anymore, but on Andy’s part he was more than willing to try harder for it to work, but didn't want to push it. He accepted her wishes and didn’t fight for full custody over Jacob — he was more than content with spending weekends and certain holidays with his son. They both moved out of their Newton house and revealed to Andy how they were both relocating to Bakersfield in California; the lawyer being partially surprised with how far they were moving, but ultimately remembered how she had some family members over there.

Before their departure, Andy and Jacob got to bond one last time and somehow their conversation shifted to how the former had no plans of selling the house and moving somewhere else. “Don’t you think you’d be too lonely?”

The blunt question did get Andy thinking but he shrugged it off, “Maybe? I just don’t see myself living anywhere else, I guess.”

Nodding, the boy looked out the window as the Audi drove by. His eyes scanned a big red sign that read “For Rent” and suddenly gave him the idea as he turned to his father, “Or you could put a room up for rent?”

Hitting the brakes smoothly as there was a red light, he turned to his son and looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, “What?” 

“Green light,” Jacob informed and Andy nodded as he released his foot off the brake and continued the way home, “Advertise my room, or the spare one, for rent. That way, you know, you won’t really be alone.”

Pursing his lips together, Andy thought about it for a while. Would anyone even one to live there? With him? He didn’t want to seem like he was rejecting his son’s idea or make him feel like he was a fool for coming up with that one so he just found himself nodding, “Sounds like a great idea, pal.”

And when they were back at home, Jacob insisted he help his dad place an advertisement online for the availability of the spare bedroom across Jacob’s. Even though he thought it was a foolish idea, Andy just went along with it for two reasons — one, he just wanted to go along with what his son wanted and make him somewhat happy. And the second one being he was absolutely positive no one would want to live here.

It was a deal too good to be true; surely there had to be a catch? $500 a month for a room that was fully furnished? Maybe the house was just ugly? Or perhaps the room wasn’t really how it was pictured? Either way Y/N found herself messaging the house owner, Andy Barber, and let her know she was interested in checking the place out.

Pulling up in front of the house, Y/N let out a long whistle as she marveled at how the exterior of the house was well-groomed and clean. Exiting her car, she made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell and leaned by one of the columns as she took in the quiet ambiance of the neighborhood. Hearing the door creak upon, she turned around and smiled, “Hi! Are you Andy Barber?”

The bearded man was dressed in a simple ragged t-shirt and a pair of sweats; and despite the impression that he had just woken up, she thought that he had this cute boyish charm to him. “Yeah that’s me, you must be Y/N?” He offered his hand out for a shake, one which the girl enthusiastically shook. 

As they both unclasped their hands Y/N wondered, “Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” Her question had him chuckling and she felt her heart warm with how relaxed he looked as he shook his head, “It’s not a bad time, this is just how I normally look.”

He stepped aside so she could come in and take a tour of the house. As Y/N was being shown around the house, she could not prevent her jaw from dropping from how cozy, elegant, and complete everything looked.

“And if you choose to, this is where you’ll be staying,” Andy opened the room to the spare bedroom and led her inside and allowed her to take a look around. It had a bed, a dresser and wardrobe, mirror, a reading chair, and a study desk paired with an office chair.

Turning to the man, “So what’s the catch?” Her question caught him off guard and folded his arms as he tilted his head to the side, “The catch?”

She nodded and looked at him as if she had the telepathic abilities to let him know what she was thinking, “You know, the reason why the rent’s so cheap? Is this house haunted? Do you actually have a rat infestation problem?”

As Andy threw his head back laughing at her suggestions, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this carefree. “No catch,” he explained once he calmed down from laughing and sat down on the reading chair, “Not haunted or rat infestation, really. Just I don’t know,” he struggled to look for the right words as he placed his hands on his thighs and rubbed them, “Put a room up for rent just so I wouldn’t get lonely.”

Y/N leaned by the office desk that was beside the chair Andy was sitting on as she spoke, “Well I liked the place so much; I’m guessing that means you won’t have to be alone?”

Looking up at her Andy smiled, “That’s great then, let me get the spare house key for you.” 

“I hope I don’t seem too fast or what, but I hope you don’t mind if I move my things up already? I have all my belongings in the car.”

Andy nodded, “Oh no worries about it, let me help you get your stuff.”

For the next couple of hours, Y/N settled her things around the room. She placed her clothes on the dresser and wardrobe. Settled her pictures and other stationery items on the desk. Attaching the house keys to the keychain she had which contained her keys and skipped her way down the stairs. 

Seeing how Andy was by his office area she asked, “Oh by the way I forgot to ask, are you allergic to something?”

“Planning to kill me already huh?” He joked as he looked at her pointedly to which she rolled her eyes at, “No, dummy. I was planning on cooking dinner.”

“Nope, not allergic to anything,” he clarified and she smiled and waved goodbye. Looking at her retreating form, Andy shook his head as he took note of how silly his new roommate was. He buried himself with preparing his things for office as Y/N went around to explore her new neighborhood’s grocery store.

Dozing off in the bedroom, Andy woke up once a savory and aromatic smell hit his nostrils. Rubbing off the sleep in his eyes, he sat up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table and took note of how it was already 5:30 in the evening. Slept longer than I thought I would, he thought to himself as he left the comfort of his bedroom and headed to see the source of the fantastic smell.

Upon reaching the kitchen he was greeted with the sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, “What’s all this commotion about?”

Stopping her movements from stirring the pot, she smiled, “Cooking dinner; made carbonara,” she pointed to the pot she was currently attending to, “Baked some garlic bread,” she pointed to the pyrex container which had a few loaves of bread in it, “And some chicken tenders as well, because I was craving.”

Nodding, he grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite of it to which she gasped, “Andy! Couldn’t even wait a few more minutes!” The taller man could only sheepishly smile with his mouth full of chicken, “Sorry ‘bout that, want me to set the table?”

“Please do. Oh and I noticed you had a certain beer in the fridge so I hope you don’t mind I bought you a pack?” As she mentioned that he did see a new, unopened pack next to the single beer he had left inside the fridge. “Thanks for that; red wine your poison?” He inquired since he noticed a wine bottle he surely never bought. Seeing her nod, he asked if she wanted a glass to which she said yes to. In the next few minutes a comfortable silence engulfed them as they both were focused on preparing their first meal together. 

Once everything was put in place they both sat across each other, Y/N placed her hands under her chin and looked at Andy with an excited look in her eyes, the man raised his brow at her, asking her nonverbally what she was looking at him for. “Go ahead, try it,” she softly encouraged him to which he nodded and swirled his fork around the pasta which the white sauce had already clung into and opened his mouth to taste.

“It’s good,” he complimented her as he swallowed, “Better than anything I’ve eaten in the past few months.” She clapped her hands and started to eat as well. “I was surprised to see your lack of groceries.”

He waited until his mouth was empty from eating the garlic bread she had before explaining, “Don’t really cook a lot; survived off takeout recently.” Despite having her mouth full with a tender, a loud shock was emitted from the woman across and Andy lightly cuckold at how adorable her reaction was. 

“Lucky for you, I love to cook so you won’t be filling yourself up with that junk,” she assured him as she drank from her glass of wine. Setting his fork down he looked at her skeptical, “What brings you to Newton anyway?”

Her hands tore the garlic bread as she gulped down her drink, “Just finished college then found a job here so there’s that.”

“Which program did you take?” He wondered; not knowing if it was his curiosity about someone living in his house or it was the lawyer in him couldn’t help but question everything.

“Took a few years off after high school to know what I really wanted to do; then just took a two year course,” she further explained as she told him which degree she chose. Somehow her answer just had Andy even more interested so he pried, “Why not get a full degree?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to waste four years of my life.” 

“Would four years really be wasted if you spent it studying something you’re interested in?” he retorted back as he took a swig of his beer.

“Touché,” she acknowledged as she gobbled some pasta, “But I don’t know, I just feel like the time I’m spending on studying would be better spent if I was actually doing something I want. Get a job I wanna do. Visit every state in the country. Get a house with a pool. You know, just do things that make me happy without having any regrets”

As she listed off the things she desired in life, a solemn expression graced Andy’s face. Her perspective did make him think about how he lived his own life as well. Perhaps how there were certain choices that did make him happy and somehow there were regrets lingering in his mind. “And have you done any of those?”

“Well obviously I don’t have a house,” she joked as she waved her hand around Andy’s home, “But I did get a job here that I think I’ll enjoy, an 8-5 kind,” she paused for a while to gulp down more of the red wine she bought, “What about you?”

“What about me “ he questioned back as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She rolled her eyes jokingly, “What’s your story, I guess? What brought you here in Newton?”

Her naivety had him questioning whether or not she knew the whole ordeal that his family went through; but he spared her of the full details, maybe next time or once he felt like he could fully trust her he’d tell her everything. “Had family here with me, but not anymore,” her eyes widened in shock with what he revealed but he was quick to reassure her, “I'm divorced now, ex-wife has full custody of our son. Used to be an assistant district attorney, now I’m just in private practice for civil litigation cases.”

Somehow, Andy felt a weight unload once he told her about him. Though granted it wasn’t the whole thing, but having someone to talk did make him feel lighter, more human. Y/N, on the other hand, felt amazed with how Andy chose to carry on despite what he’s been through. She got the feeling there was more to it than what he let on; and pity was not what she felt but more of feeling happy with how he did not give up and instead keep on going.

Holding her glass she raised it, “Here’s to new beginnings and being single then,” she toasted. Smiling, he raised his beer bottle and brought it to touch against her glass, “To new beginnings and being single.” The two then proceeded to finish the rest of their meal in silence.

The sun was shining bright that Monday morning and Andy woke up early to head down to their basement and do his morning exercise. Thirty minutes into it, he could sense that Y/N had woken up not only due to her footsteps he heard, but also because he could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

As he finished his workout, he headed up to his room to take a quick shower and dress up for his work. Granted it might have been too early to do all those but the smell of the food and the company of which he’d be eating breakfast enticed him to do so. Heading down, he was dressed in his full lawyer gear, minus the jacket, and smiled as he saw Y/N eating the rest of her pancakes by the breakfast bar.

“Morning Andy,” she greeted him, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like,” she pointed to where she had just gotten a cup for herself as well. “Thank you,” he then moved to get himself a cup and once he did he took note of a plate that had a couple of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Pointing to it he accused her, “It’s as if you want me to waste the workout I just did huh.” She threw her head back in laughter at what he said while shaking his head to tell him that it wasn’t her intention. Glancing down on her wrist watch she mumbled a soft, “Shit,” upon noticing the time. Stacking her mug on the plate she moved to the sink where Andy grabbed the cutlery and utensils from her, “Let me do it and go ahead.”

Placing a hand on his forearm — in which they both felt relaxed and warm at their first touch — she thanked him for doing so and grabbed her bag that she placed on the couch. “Good luck on your first day,” Andy called out as he began munching on his own food. She yelled a quick thanks and see you as she closed the door behind her. Staring down on his plate, he smiled again upon seeing how the food in his plate resembled a smiley face; She really is something, he thought to himself.

The rest of the week flew by and both Andy and Y/N spent the week almost doing everything together. The former would wake up early and get his workout down; and sometime during the 45 minutes he’d spend on the basement the latter would take that time to prepare herself for the day ahead as well as the most important meal for their day. And if there were leftovers from the night before or that she had made too much for breakfast and was able to whip it into something for lunch, then she packed those not only for her, but for Andy as well.

And their routine together did not just stop there it bled into the night as well. Where it was always Y/N who came home first. After taking a bath either she’d start cooking supper or she would clean around the house a little — she noticed how Andy’s office area was frequently messy and she did her best to fix the mess without being too intrusive about it. She never step foot in his room, wanting him to have his privacy, but from what she could see he kept it organized despite having a few trash here and there, so she didn’t really loiter in that area of the house.

In hindsight, Y/N didn’t have to cook and clean for Andy. But with how low her rent was she felt that it was only fair to do so. Plus there was a part of her that somehow liked being around him, having someone to talk to about everything and anything they both could think of. There was never really a dull conversation between them.

Friday night arrived and instead of cooking another meal Y/N decided to get a pizza, wings, and another pack of beer for Andy. As she was in the liquor portion of the grocery she bumped into one of their neighbors, Joan RIfkin, whom she also recognized as one of the friends of her workmate.

“Y/N, right?” the woman asked as she looked at her with concern. “Yeah, that’s me. We met through Emily, when you helped her get to work,” Y/N recalled, both for her and Joan.

“Is it true that you live with Andy?” her question had Y/N wondering, how the hell did she know that? Despite that thought she nodded, “Room was cheap so I thought why not?”

Her nervous chuckle could not ease the tension between the two ladies; especially when Joan gave her a stern look as she warned her, “Be careful, okay? The Barber’s caused quite a ruckus and Andy is quite unpredictable.”

As Joan walked away while pushing her cart, Y/N was left confused and conflicted. The new information presented to her, though it was vague, left her puzzled about whether or not it was true. She was also unsure about the need to clarify with Andy what she has just been told.

Once his car was parked in the garage, Andy loosened his tie and entered the house. What greeted him was not the sight of Y/N cooking but her sitting on the couch while scrolling through her phone. Placed in the coffee table was a pizza box, his usual beer, a glass of wine, and box of chicken wings as well as a couple of paper plates.

“Didn’t feel like cooking today huh?” he jeered as he placed a hand on his hip, the other hand holding his briefcase for work. Diverting her eyes from her phone to the man in front she grinned at him, “No, but I felt like having pizza. Maybe we could watch a movie while eating?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go change quickly,” he told her and she nodded. Andy then went up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to do so. Somehow there was this part of him that was incredibly excited at the thought of being physically close with Y/N. but he just shook his head at the thought and claimed that he was just excited to unwind the week’s stress with food, beer, and a movie.

Heading down after he dressed in more comfortable clothes he asked, “Alright, what are we watching?” Y/N shrugged as she moved to open the box of pizza, “Want a slice?” Andy nodded as he grabbed the remote and thanked her, “You heard about the hippie who burnt his mouth on the pizza?”

While holding a pizza slice of her own she looked at him and tilted her head to the side, her face being a combination of confusion and curiosity, one that Andy found charming. The bearded man had his face in faux seriousness as he continued, “He ate it before it was considered cool.”

Upon realizing the joke, Y/N let out a few giggles — real giggles, Any took note. “Okay not gonna lie, that was good,” she took a bite, “ Haven’t heard that one before.” Saying that made Andy feel proud, somehow his lame dad jokes made this brilliant woman laugh. “You wanna watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?”

She nodded at his suggestion, “Yeah why not? Haven’t watched that in a while.” And so they both began to watch it as they ate and drank.

As they watched the film their occasional laughs were the only sound emitted from the two. As Andy was grabbing for a few slices or chicken wings, he found himself scooting closer beside Y/N, who didn’t really mind it and instead found having him close was comforting. The wartm that seeped past his clothed thigh and on to her bare skin as she was only wearing shorts made her feel safe. And somehow Andy’s arm found itself draped across the couch, almost touching Y/N’s shoulders, his fingers almost touching her. When she did move to drink her wine her skin touched the tips of his fingers rested on her shoulders and Andy who drank some of his beer as well looked alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I can move away if you’d like,” he said as he began to remove his hand from where it was comfortable in her shoulder. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him a little too quickly, “I mean, I don’t really mind. I’m not the type of person who hates hugging so I don’t really mind at all.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from physically cringing with what she said and how stupid it must have soounded like; but the man beside her didn’t think so based on his eyes crinkled in laughter. His arm then dropped from being on her shoulders and settled itself on her waist and pulled him as close as they could be sitting beside, “Well I hope you won’t mind if I do this then?”

She felt herself flutter with how smooth the man was and just silently assured him by placing her head against his shoulder, both turning their attention back to the movie.

As the end credits rolled, they both were full and were just now finishing up the last of the drinks. Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she had an internal debate about whether or not she should bring up her conversation with Joan earlier.

“You alright, Y/N?” Andy noticed how her actions might have indicated how she was nervous, a complete opposite to how she was earlier. Setting down his empty bottle on the coffee table, he turned to her and grasped both her hands in his, loving the feel of her soft hands against his calloused ones.

“It’s just, there’s something I need to ask,” she sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if it would have helped her say it better, “No, not really ask, but tell you. I don't know.” Her hesitation and uncertainty was something Andy easily sensed and he did his best to calm her down by rubbing their hands together and telling her she could tell him anything.

“So after work, I headed to the grocery to grab your beer, right? Then I saw Joan there, I don’t know her surname though. Anyway, she warned me to be careful of you because you’re unpredictable and that your family had caused a ruckus?” She ended her encounter with the woman by looking up at Andy, and the latter was surprised that there was no disgust in her tone and facial expressions; but more of worry? As if she was worried that rumors were spreading around about him and his family.

He stopped rubbing her hands and instead settled with fiddling with them, “I think it’s best if you found out now,” he began before taking a deep breath, “Almost two years ago, Ben Rifkin, a fourteen year old boy, died. At the time I was the assistant district attorney and was assigned to investigate. When fingerprints of my son, Jacob, were found in the body everyone assumed he did it.”

“Did he?” Y/N question when she noticed it took Andy sometime to continue with his story. Shaking his head no he picked up where he left off the story, “He didn’t, his fingerprints were there because he just saw the body, panicked and didn’t call the police. A man who had a record for groping and stalking kids did it. But Joan, Ben’s mom was still convinced that Jacob had something to do with her son’s death even after it was proved that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about that Andy, she has no right to name you and your family those things,” Y/N was quick to comfort him. But he only chuckled sadly, “Does she not?” She could feel that there was more Andy wanted to say so she remained silent, “During the trial and investigation, they were fully convinced Jacob did it because of me, of my father.”

He said those three words with so much hate and disdain, “My estranged father, rather, he raped and killed some student many years ago. Now he’s serving a life sentence for it. They claimed that I had this murder gene and somehow Jacob got it too, hence why he killed Ben.”

After hearing his explanation, Y/N now understood why Joan claimed Andy was unpredictable. She also empathize with the mother who lost her son and understood why she felt this indifference towards the Barbers; but she still believed that maybe Joan would someday accept that the what they’ve been believing — that Jacob had any involvement for her son’s death — is nothing but mere suspicion that was proved false.

“I mean, I understand why she holds this sort of grudge against you or your family,” Andy’s heart dropped at what Y/N said and loosened his grip on her hands, prepared to hear her say how she wanted to leave his house that somewhat felt like home ever since she came, “But it’ll take time for her to accept the truth and disregard the suspicion she had. I believe in what you say and do think that you are harmless.”

Her statement had Andy looking up from where he was staring at their hands and looked up at her with relief in his face, “What?” He could not help but sound meek as he asked so; but he felt the opposite, he felt empowered and invincible upon knowing that there was someone on his side for once.

Deciding to do something risky, Y/N leaned forward to plant a gentle and comforting kiss on Andy’s forehead, “What happened to Joan’s son was horrible, yes. But if you say, and an investigation says your son had nothing to do with it, then I believe it. And murder gene? The only thing that a gene can pass down to us is sickness,” she joked, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and was pleased to see how Andy laughed softly at it,”You’re not what your father did, okay? The only way to define you is through what you say, think, and do.”

Andy smiled as he stared at her lovingly, “And if I think and tell you that you’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and that it's been great having you here live with me?” She laughed as she rested her cheek against her hand and sassed at him, “I’d call bullshit ‘cause you probably used that line with your wife.”

He just rolled his eyes as he moved her around so she could comfortably lay her head against his chest as he wrapped his muscular arms around her frame. “Well then I’m just gonna have to do my best to prove it to you the entire time you’re here then.”

Turning her head so she could face him, “Well joke’s on you, I plan to be here for quite a long time.” The butterflies in Andy’s stomach then went wild at what she said, but his composure allowed him to answer back with, “I don’t mind that at all, honey.”

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he then teased her about the grin she had on her face and two then talked the rest of the night away.

part two

[rosesisupposes]

Ordinary Night

“send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it”

Prompt Tag

word count: 3,875

pairings: Ex-Anxceit; Background Remile;

warnings: divorce/abandonment; lost child; mentions of depressive and manic episodes; distressed nonverbal episode;

reader tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @bewarethegrammarpolice​ @jemthebookworm​ @arandompasserby​  @sparkly-rainbow-salt​ @astral-eclipse​​ @thelowlysatsuma​ @adorably-angsty​

I came up with the Single Dad AU a while ago but it’s never emerged from Discord to become a full story, but I love it very, very much. So thank you, nonny, for the excuse

Read on Ao3

“Give it back!”

“No, Dad said it’s my turn to pick the movie!”

“You always pick the same one! I’m tired of Winnie the Pooh!”

“But I like it!”

“Can we at least watch the Tigger one?”

“No! Pooh Bear!”

Young voices whined back and forth in an argument that had been held at least once a week for the last three months in the Sanders household. Six-year-old Patton was climbing on top of the couch cushions, brandishing the remote as eight-year-old Roman tried to reclaim it. Their younger brother, four-year-old Logan, watched from the corner in silence.

Their dad entered the room and, with practiced ease, plucked Patton from his teetering perch on the couch.

“Hey, hey, buddy, careful, okay? You might fall from up there!”

“Daaddd, Ro is trying to take my night again!”

The single father balanced his middle son on his hip as he looked sternly down his eldest.

“Roman, what have we talked about with movie nights?”

The second-grader sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “He gets to pick whatever movie he wants,” he recited, blowing strawberry blonde hair out of his eyes. “Even if it’s boring.”

“Pooh Bear isn’t boring!” Patton objected loudly, making his father wince from the volume.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Boys. We will skip movie night entirely if you can’t behave,” Dad warned. Both children immediately went silent, but stuck tongues out at each other when they thought Dad couldn’t see.

“I’m going on an adventure, so that at least not all of today is boring,” Roman announced, running to the toy box for his tiny foam sword. “Where’s my noble steed?”

“I wanna come!” Patton cried, wriggling out of his father’s hold. Taking the remote back, Dad let him go as a small smile crept up at the corners of his mouth. How quickly they went from feuding to playing.

“Let’s go slay a dragon!” Roman cried, stabbing the air.

“What if we fight a witch?” said Patton with huge eyes, grabbing his matching foam shield.

“A dragon-witch!” Roman announced happily. “Lolo, wanna come?”

The youngest looked at the floor through glasses he already needed. “…don’ wanna”

“Aw, Lolo, you sure?”

“…scary,” the toddler said.

“We’ll protect you,” Patton said, crouching to look in his brother’s eyes. “Roro is the best knight ever! And I have a shield!”

Logan shook his head. Patton sighed and carefully patted his hand. “Next time? But only if you wanna, okay?”

Satisfied at the small nod, Patton trotted upstairs. Roman cast around before crouching behind the couch. “Ah! My steed!” he said happily. He stood with a cat in his arms. The tom bore being carried with long-suffering patience, held around the middle by small arms that could only just make it all the way around.

“Ro, be careful with Thomas, okay?” Dad warned. “Pat’s taken his medicine, but don’t let him bury his face in fur again.”

“Yes, I’ll be careful,” Roman said with all the indignance a eight-year-old could muster. He jauntily strode up the stairs after his brother, arms full of cat and sword.

His father watched him go as he settled on the couch. Logan crawled up into his lap and settled there, sitting up straight but balanced on his dad’s knee.

“Hey there, L. No adventure today?”

Logan shook his head.

“Just don’t want to, or something wrong?”

The little boy was silent.

“How is touching today? Thumbs up?” his dad asked, hand creating the gesture he referred to. His son responded in kind. Moving slowly, Dad pulled Logan into his chest, resting a hand lightly in the boy’s dark brown hair.

“Do you have the words for the something wrong, or is it just bad?” he asked softly.

“…miss Papa,” Logan replied, turning his head fully into Dad’s chest.

His father kissed the top of his head and held him close. He knew of his son’s tears from the dampness on his shirt rather than any sounds or shaking. When he could finally speak evenly, he replied, “I miss him too, Lolo.”

“When does he come back?”

“Maybe never.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew, kiddo. I’m sorry I can’t give you a good reason.”

Logan clutched at the fabric of Dad’s shirt, still not looking up.

His father kissed his head again and leaned back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling as he blinked away tears. He was so tired of crying, so tired of knowing neither he nor his sons might ever understand why their other father had left. But it had been months without any communication, since they came home from the park to an empty house and a missing suitcase.

Three young boys, one beloved cat, one father who’d just lost the love of his life and his partner parent all at once. That was the Sanders household now. A night of childish yells and tears from the boys and their father alike: this was an ordinary night.

So how was Dad doing? He was a nervous wreck, of course. If he’d been a bit on edge before, it was nothing compared to the absolute personification of anxiety Virgil had become now.

As he breathed deeply to calm himself, Virgil ran a hand lightly through Logan’s soft, wavy hair. “What do you say to some Magic School Bus before dinner, Lo? Would that be good?”

“Mmhmm,” the toddler said with a nod, sliding off his dad’s lap.

As Virgil stood, Logan reached for his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. Virgil let himself be led to the smallest bedroom, where Logan immediately went to his small but growing book collection. He pulled out a CD that Virgil then placed in the small speakers he’d bought, back when he and his ex had adopted Roman. The “Baby Boombox,” Ethan had called it, as he filled Ro’s room with all his favorite Broadway soundtracks and Disney ballads. Then had come Patton, with Raffi songs and lullabies because they were the only things that would send him to sleep smiling when Roman was still active during naptime. And now there was Logan, who was soothed by the smooth strains of classical musicals and who listened with rapt attention (if not complete understanding) to audiobooks of all kinds. Virgil popped in Logan’s choice, “Lost in Space” and set it to play. Logan scooted his tiny plush chair as close as he could to the speaker and sat, staring up in wonder as his favorite narrator read about Ms. Frizzle’s class and whirling planets. Without interrupting, Virgil slipped out of his youngest son’s room and made his way to the kitchen to start dinner.

The pasta was cooking and the sauce bubbling on the stove when Virgil’s phone buzzed against the counter. He glanced at the screen and smiled.

If the past year had taught him anything, it was just how important family could be. He and his brother use to have a rather rocky relationship, never spending much time together. Unfortunately, Ethan had been part of the reason for the rift - Remy had never liked his brother-in-law and was never any good at hiding it. Normally when he was proven right about anything, Remy held it over his younger brother’s head for the rest of their lives. But not this time. Not when they’d sparked into full-on screaming matches over the years as Virgil asserted that Remy was wrong about Ethan. He was a good partner and an amazing father. He’d even said it, hadn’t he? His biggest ambition in life was to be a good papa.

Guess that had been a lie, too.

But no amount of friction and distance could have kept Remy away the night Virgil had called in tears. “Nuncle” Remy had been a near-constant fixture in the Sanders house ever since, particularly in those first couple of months. It had been Remy who’d suggested Virgil get the boys to therapists early, right after the split. It had been Remy’s husband Emile who’d found them matches among his colleagues, ones who made the boys feel safe and heard. It had been those therapists who discovered the reason behind Roman’s mood swings, identifying his bipolar personality disorder early and helping Virgil to get him the appropriate treatment. It had been Emile who’d cautiously suggested he get Logan fully evaluated for autism, and found him compassionate parenting resources to help relate and communicate with Lo better. Virgil would be a wreck without his brother and brother-in-law – or, rather, he’d be more of a wreck.

Which is why, when Logan went missing, Remy was the instinctual first call.

He’d heard Roman and Patton bounce down the stairs into the den, making dramatic sound effects as they fought their dragon-witch. He hadn’t heard the door open, or the soft steps of Logan following his brothers downstairs. He hadn’t seen Thomathy the tomcat be loosed into the yard as Roman cried, “Ride into the sunset, noble steed!” He hadn’t seen Logan stand on his tiptoes to re-open the door and follow the cat outdoors.

He’d just called for the older two boys and gone upstairs to get Logan when he’d found the CD player off and the chair empty. And that’s when the panic had kicked in.

“Lolo?” he called upstairs.

“Buddy?” he asked the den.

“Logan?!” he almost screeched into the basement.

Roman and Patton were obediently sitting at the kitchen table, fidgeting, when Virgil re-entered, eyes ablaze. “Where’s your brother? Was he playing with you?”

“No, he was too scared,” Roman scoffed.

Patton, on the other hand, looked concerned. “I think maybe he followed us? He was trying to pet Tommy.”

“Where is Thomas?” their father asked, the edge in his voice rising. “You were playing with him, where did he go?”

Roman shrank in his seat as he realized this was more than just make-believe. “He… I wanted him to be free?” He pointed to the back door with a shaky hand.

Virgil stared at his eldest son, biting back harsh words of frustration. He was eight, he didn’t know better yet. But the panic was rising, thrumming through his veins and disrupting his ability to think straight.

He grabbed his phone and hit the speed dial to Remy.

“Rem? I need you here,” he said the minute his brother picked up. “Logan got out of the house chasing the cat.”

“Shit, okay, I’ll be there in 5,” Remy said, already hanging up before Virgil could point out that he lived a ten-minute drive away. He arrived in three. Normally his driving habits pissed Virgil the hell off, but at that moment, it was all he can do to not cry in relief as he grabbed a flashlight and his extensive first aid kit from under the sink and ran out the back door.

Remy was soon placing himself bodily in front of the door to prevent either older brother from charging after.

“I’m a bad prince, I’m the villain,” Roman choked out through his tears. “It’s all my fault.”

“I gotta keep him safe!” Patton said. He tried and failed to climb onto the counter, but grabbed what ‘supplies’ he could reach into his school bag, a collection of juiceboxes and goldfish and band-aids.

“Hey, hey, little dudes, c’mon,” Remy said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “C’mere.”

They were just small enough and he was just big enough to gather them both into his arms at once, even as they wriggled and tried to escape.

“Dad’s gonna get Lo back, okay? They’ll both be back soon,” he said, carrying the boys to the couch. “And Tomma-llama-ding-dong too.” He placed them both on the couch. They were both red-eyed and drippy-noed, but no longer trying to make a break for it. He grabbed tissues and wiped their faces and noses, moving gently. He watched Roman particularly hard. He’d been present for downward spirals before, when the mania and hyperactivity fell, gradually or suddenly, into dark days where the boy could barely get out of bed.

Remy ran soft fingers through Roman’s light hair, remembering. The worst depressive episode had lasted a full week and a half, and Virgil had been despondent. It was right after that bastard Virgil’s ex had walked out on them, and of course Virgil had blamed himself, telling Remy that Ro’s depression was all his fault for not being a good enough father. He would have curled up around his boy and begged him to be okay, if Remy hadn’t sat on his chest reminded him that he had two other sons that needed him. Childish? Yes, quite literally, sitting on him was Remy’s favorite way of picking on his little brother when they had been children themselves. But it had worked, and Roman was getting treatment now, both medications and therapy, and both his uncles and his dad had learned strategies to help keep him from getting trapped in his up- and down-swings.

Now, Patton imitated Remy, patting a slightly-stick hand on Roman’s shoulder in a sweet attempt at grounding techniques. More than any of the boys, Patton took after Virgil, always trying to keep his brothers safe. He was fierce in his defense of them towards others, but gentle and soft when he saw them sad. Remy ruffled Patton’s honey-gold curls with his free hand and stood. He had Roman and Patton Sanders in his care, and they were sad and worried. It was time for some Disney movies.

The sun was falling below the horizon as Logan followed the family cat into the woods behind their house. He trotted as fast as his still-chubby toddler legs could carry him, following the brown-and-black striped tail of the big tabby. Galloping paws quickly carried the pet out of sight, but Logan kept plodding along in the same vague direction. Scarcely noticing the growing dark, he clutched his worn, stuffed octopus tightly in one hand as he walked further and further into the forest. When Papa had asked when he wanted to name it, he’d looked up and said “Octopus.” His tone had been one of “Well, duh,” and his voice had been so deadpan for a three-year-old that Virgil had fallen into intermittent fits of giggles for hours after. But he’d carried it continuously ever since, particularly as he listened to his books on the deep sea. He clutched it tight as he finally caught up to Thomas. The tabby had found a mossy patch under a tree, caught in the last patch of sunlight, and curled up contently. Logan sat next to him and patted his head, content that he’d finally done what he set out to do. But looking up, the toddler realized he could no longer see the edge of the forest and wasn’t sure which direction he’d come from. He was in the middle of the forest, alone, with no notion of how to get home. Logan didn’t cry, or yell, or flail. He just froze, everything locking down in the face of a situation he didn’t understand and couldn’t solve. He might have stood like that for minutes or hours, but Thomcat chose that moment to stand with a stretch and wind his way around his smallest family member, purring as he rubbed up against Logan’s short legs. The warmth drew him out of his paralysis, and he sat heavily on the mossy stump. The cat leapt into his lap, covering most of his tiny torso in warm fur as the beloved pet continued to purr. Clutching tufts of Thomas’ fur in one hand and Octopus in the other, Logan’s emotions thawed and he started to sniffle, then cry aloud. His hiccups and sobs reverberated off the unfamiliar trees that surrounded him.

Virgil crashed through the trees, flashlight and first aid kit in hand, trying his best to keep a level head. Logan was missing. His little boy, the tiniest, quietest member of their family, was alone, somewhere probably dying in the forest definitely kidnapped by child stealers lost in the unfriendly woods. He’d made that promise, over and over again through the long adoption process: he would keep his sons safe. He would protect them. He wouldn’t let anything dangerous happen to them. Ethan may not have meant it, but Virgil had, with every fiber of his being. He would keep his family safe, every single member.

He trusted Remy to be a good caretaker to Pat and Ro right now, but he worried for his eldest. He just dashed into ideas and plans without thinking, so much more than either of his brothers. And of course, Virgil knew why. A memory sprang to life like a film reel in his head without his bidding.

“Papa, look at me! I’m gonna be just like Peter Pan! I can fly!”

“Of course you can, Roro! If you wish hard enough!”

A summer day, lazy and bathed in golden light. It had been magical in a way - no wonder Roman had believed in super abilities. But that moment, Virgil had finally seen what was happening as he rounded the corner, an infant Logan strapped to his chest and Patton holding his hand.

“Fly- Roro! Kiddo, please get down from the roof!”

Ethan had just chuckled. “Shhh, V, he’ll probably be fine. He’s gotta learn somehow, right?”

Patton, all of three years old and still lisping, had shook a finger at his older brother.

“Wowo, get down fwom thewe!”

“You can’t stop me, ‘m a PRINCE!” the five-year-old had yelled back, approaching the edge of the shed roof.

Virgil had dropped Pat’s hand to run, shrieking more than speaking as he yelled, “Roman Sanders, do not jump off that roof! You’re going to get down safely!”

Ethan had barely budged, too busy laughing his ass off. It had ended up being Virgil alone who helped Roman get down, letting him be Dad the Downer while Papa stayed ‘the fun one’ in Roman’s eyes. Was it any wonder he’d blamed himself for Ro’s bipolar swings?

But he’d learned better since then. Being a ‘fun’ dad didn’t matter at all if he couldn’t keep them safe, first and foremost. He would find his little boy, and their cat, and he would bring them home. He checked his first aid kit as he walked and sighed with relief. He’d remembered to re-stock it recently. In addition to the bandages and ice packs and ointments and band-aids in everyone’s favorite characters, he’d packed everyone’s favorite treats. He had cat treats for Thomas, which he immediately took out and started wafting, and he had tiny containers of Crofter’s jelly, Logan’s only favorite food that he always wanted to eat, no matter his mood. Virgil listened to the forest hard for any noise besides the rustling wind. He had his flashlight turned on even before the sun fully set, to make sure Logan would see him coming. His heart still raced, frantically pointing out every passing second and minute that his son remained missing. Every moment he was out here was another moment he could be tripping over roots or eating poisonous berries or getting a rash or being abducted or hitting his head or…

Deep breaths, Virge, he reminded himself. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. The calming reminders in his head spoke with Emile’s voice, gentle and soothing. He could only do his job as Dad if he kept his head and stayed alert. He listened hard again, noting small animals, leaves falling, choked sobs, branches cracking, distant cars, and -

Sobs! Where were they coming from?

He picked up his pace, needing to double back a couple times before he was heading in the direction of the noise. He swept his flashlight in front of him with one hand and shook the cat treats with the other as he called out.

“Logan? Is that you? Logan? Thomas?”

The sobs stopped abruptly, and the flashlight beam illuminated a tiny form unraveling itself from a fluffy one almost the same size. “Dada?”

Virgil sprinted the last few yards. He worried for a moment that Logan might need to avoid touch right now, but that fear was dispelled with the toddler threw himself into his father’s arms.

“Lolo, are you alright? I was so worried, kiddo! Did you hurt yourself? Were you scared? I’m here, I’ll get you home, okay?”

“Dada, ‘m sorry.”

“Why sorry, Loberry?”

“I was bad, an’ I got lost,” Logan said, gripping Virgil’s jacket and Octopus with equal tightness.

“Oh, my little Lo, no, you weren’t bad. We should have been with you, I should have been watching. I’m so sorry, honeybear. But you’re safe now, okay? We’re gonna go home.”

Virgil knelt, picking up Logan and balancing him on one hip, then picking up a long-suffering Thomas and draping the cat over his shoulder. He was a bit encumbered by his first aid kit, but nothing could bother him now that his little boy was safely in his arms.

Searching for Logan had felt like an eternity, but had been less than 20 minutes. When father and son and cat entered the back door, the Disney movie (Sleeping Beauty, Remy’s choice) hadn’t yet finished. The door closing woke up Roman and Patton from where they had dozed off, but they were immediately up and hugging Virgil’s legs.

Their father ruffled their heads as he gentled let Logan stand on his own, then pulled them all into a group hug.

“We’re gonna talk tomorrow, okay, kiddos? About Thomas safety and Lolo safety. But tonight we’ll just relax together, now that we’re all home. I love you all so much.”

“I love you, Dad”

“Love you too!”

“Me too, Dada.”

By the end of the night and the second movie (Atlantis, Logan’s request, and Patton had conceded that he didn’t want any movies with woods), the Sanders house had quieted. Virgil could feel his heartbeat return to normal for the first time in hours as he gazed fondly at his sons. All three had fallen asleep, sprawled across the couch and Virgil’s lap. Remy had helped them change before heading home with a last firm hug and reassurance that, “You done good, bro.” Logan’s head rested on Virgil’s thigh, the horn of his unicorn onesie flopping over as he slept. Patton was snuggled up as close as Logan had okayed, cat ears folded over on his one onesie. And Roman had pulled a pillow on the ground so that he could be next to all of them, a tiny lion defending his pride in the onesie that he was practically “too old for,” but that he’d still wear when Pat asked him to. Thomas the tomcat, exhausted by his forest adventure, was curled into a ball in a laundry basket.

So how was Dad doing?

He’d never be completely at ease, not with so much depending on him, not with so many obstacles to overcome. But for tonight, Virgil was content.