A/N: Next part in my Lester/Becker 'verse, focused on Lester's kids. 'Um...someone' gave me the idea to write something from their POV, so here is what I came up with!
Normal
Dad, David, and Becker were all sitting on the sofa watching Doctor Who. One of the old ones, in black and white, with that one that looked like a tramp. Dad was twisting his fingers in Becker's hair, idly, like he wasn't thinking about it. It gave Henry this weird feeling, like he couldn't work out whether he was disgusted or whether he was angry or sad that he couldn't remember Dad ever being that casually affectionate with Mum. Becker was okay but Henry figured that didn't mean he had to be perfectly happy to see them being so touchy-feely.
He left them to go and find Julia in the study, where she was doing her homework like the nerd she was. He flopped down into the armchair. "They're still using the TV."
Julia didn't even look up. "I'm working."
"And I'm bored."
"Maybe you should try doing some of your own work."
"It's Saturday. No one does schoolwork on Saturday."
"Yet here I am."
"No one with a life," Henry amended.
Julia put her pen down, rolling her eyes at him. "And what a thrilling life you have, clearly, wandering about your father's flat aimlessly."
Henry scowled. It was only because they were in London that he couldn't meet up with his friends, so he put that down to being Dad's fault. "Dad and Becker are cuddling."
"So? They're not forcing you to watch them, pervert. And anyway, that's what couples do. God knows you and Rachel are downright nauseating."
Henry stuck up two fingers but she had looked down at her notes again. "He was never like that with Mum."
When Julia faced him again, her expression was sad and a little pitying, reminiscent of the look Mum liked to give him. It was even worse coming from his sister. "I'm not sure that's precisely true."
"Well, I don't remember it."
"Henry, why can't you just be glad of it? I know you like Becker-"
"He's okay," Henry interrupted. It wasn't like they were best friends or anything.
Julia went on like he hadn't spoken. "Mum's happy, Dad's happy, David's happy... Why can't you just be happy for that? You're so hell-bent on being contrary but I know you realise how much better things are now."
Henry turned away from her. He didn't need a second mother, Christ. And he wasn't being contrary. Contrary implied that he was being disagreeable for the sake of being disagreeable, but Henry had his reasons. He had valid, compelling reasons. Like, his dad was a dick.
"If you're just going to sit there sulking, I'd appreciate it if you went elsewhere."
"What, and rob you of my company? I could never be so cruel," Henry said but he got up anyway. He was so bored that he was actually considering doing his schoolwork.
He shuffled back through to the living room, past the sofa where Dad, Becker, and David were all laughing at something, and over to the dining room table where he'd left his bag. He stood staring at his books for a few moments before sighing and gathering them up. At least he could go into the study to work, that would annoy Julia.
As anticipated, Julia sighed theatrically when he returned. Henry purposely made as much noise as he possibly could while he got settled, banging his books around and rifling through his papers. Julia's shoulders were tensed, her fingers gripping her pen tightly.
"Will you be quiet?" she burst out finally, glaring.
Henry congratulated himself on a job well done.
The time passed slowly and Henry didn't actually get all that much work done, his thoughts distracting him. He did manage to get through a couple of chapters of the novel he'd been assigned, so he figured that was progress.
When he left the room, it was to run into Dad and Becker where they were standing against the wall outside the extra bedroom. They had their arms loosely around each other's waists and Becker looked like he was nuzzling Dad's neck, though he drew back at the sound of the door.
"Gross," Henry muttered. He wished they would go back to the early days when it had seemed like they were afraid to even lay on a finger on each other. Public displays of affection just weren't ever okay when it was your dad and his boyfriend.
How old was Becker, anyway? Definitely not age-appropriate. Sometimes Henry wondered whether Mum would have been more bothered if Dad had shown up with a woman Becker's age.
Dad merely raised an eyebrow, looking at Henry from over Becker's shoulder. "Go and check your brother's not burning down the kitchen, will you?"
"Why can't you do it?"
"Because I'm your father and I asked you to do it."
"Fine, whatever," Henry said and pushed past them, hearing Becker's soft, amused laughter.
In the kitchen, David was carefully pouring milk from a jug into three mugs. "Hi, Henry," he said cheerfully. "You don't want any hot chocolate, do you? I don't think I heated enough milk for you."
"That's okay."
"Daddy said maybe he and Hils will tell me a story from work, isn't that cool?"
"Yeah, it's really cool," Henry said absently, opening a cupboard to see if there was anything good. Dad usually had chocolate biscuits, but he had a tendency to hide them.
When David remained silent, Henry glanced back to him. He had stopped what he was doing to cross his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing and his expression turning stern. He'd obviously been spending too much time with Dad recently. "Why are you always like that?"
"Like what?"
"This! Like you hate it here, like you hate Daddy and Hils but I know you don't. You think I'm only a little kid but I know you didn't like it when Daddy didn't visit much and I know you actually think Hils is great, you just won't admit it."
Henry blinked. "Um…"
"And you had that fight on my birthday weekend and I know it was about Hils, but he was nice to you, he bought you ice cream even after you were horrible to him and made him feel bad. And then it was okay but now you're being stupid again."
Henry squirmed in place. He was pretty sure his nine-year-old brother shouldn't be able to make him feel like this much of an arsehole. "It's complicated, David, you don't-"
"No!" David interjected. "That's what everyone always says, like I'm too stupid to understand, but I do. And I think it's really easy. Daddy and Hils love each other, and Daddy loves us, and Mum likes Hils, so you should stop being such a twit."
"I haven't done anything," Henry said, still questioning why exactly he needed to defend his behaviour to his little brother.
David huffed and returned to the hot chocolate, stirring each mug roughly and then gathering them all up to march out of the kitchen. Henry thought about offering his assistance because Dad would certainly not be pleased if any spilled on his hardwood floors, but he didn't think David would take kindly to the offer.
He leaned against the door of the fridge for a little while, rubbing his face. He really hadn't done anything, had he? Dad had asked him to try not to be so rude to Becker, and Henry had been doing just that. He hadn't done anything wrong. There wasn't anything to apologise for or to feel guilty about.
Henry went to find Julia again, hearing the low murmur of voices from the spare bedroom as he drew near. A minuscule part of him was desperately curious to know what sort of work story Dad and Becker were telling David, but that was stupid so he ignored it.
"Again, Henry?" Julia said with an aggrieved air when he opened the door. She was probably hoping he wouldn't notice that she'd had to click out of YouTube.
"David just blew up at me."
"David? Really? What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Henry insisted. Why did everyone always think that? "He said basically the same thing to me that you did, about Becker and Dad, except angrier and louder."
Julia laughed, because she was a terrible person. "Even David is more mature than you."
"Shouting makes him more mature?"
"Talking sense makes him more mature."
"You only think he's talking sense because he agrees with you."
She shrugged. "He was always more like Mum and me than like you. Or like Dad."
"I'm not like Dad."
"Right. You get on so splendidly so of course you can't both be stubborn, sarcastic sods who think they know everything."
Henry looked away, staring at the shut blinds covering the window. He felt quite like having a good sulk, except that was more something Julia did. He wasn't a thing like Dad and if he was, he might as well kill himself now and be done with it.
Dad had screwed over his family and Henry would never, ever do that.
"Henry," Julia said quietly, her entire demeanor completely changed. "Henry, stop that."
"I'm not doing anything."
"I know what you're thinking. How many times do-"
"I know!" Henry shouted, interrupting her because he was fucking tired of people saying the same things to him, over and over. "He didn't leave us because he didn't love us and he didn't want to hurt Mum and I fucking know, Julia. I know that."
Julia was silent for a bit before saying, "Knowing isn't the same as believing."
Sometimes Henry felt like he was angry all the time, like he had all this raw emotion eating at his insides and he just needed to let it spill out, to bleed into everything he did. He had been angry at Dad for so long he didn't know how to let go of it. He didn't know if he could; he didn't even know if he wanted to.
"I don't know how it's so easy for you," he said finally.
"Easy?" Julia repeated, utterly disbelieving. "God, you are such an idiot. It was never easy for me; have you forgotten everything? Dad didn't just leave you, Henry. He left all of us. But he's my dad and I just… I wanted him to be there, even if it was once every bloody two months. If that was all I saw of him then I damn well wasn't going to waste it being a complete bitch."
"Only a little bit of a bitch."
Julia's mouth twitched. "Exactly. And contrary to what you seem to think, I didn't want Becker showing up any more than you did, but it didn't matter. He was going to be around and I made the best of it, and Becker was nice to us. He was always nice to us even when we treated him like dirt."
"Maybe you just fancied him, that was why you stopped complaining so quickly."
"Ew," Julia said, wrinkling her nose. "You get what he does with Dad, don't you?"
"Jesus," Henry exclaimed. "Why would you even say something like that? I'm going to have horrible nightmares. I might be sick."
"You're welcome," she said, devoting her attention back to the computer. "Now leave me alone."
"Gladly." Henry turned back around and then went out of the door, pausing in the hall as he tried to decide what to do. He ended up shutting himself into the bathroom for some privacy while he called Rachel, but she was out with her friends and couldn't be bothered to amuse him for very long.
Back in the hall, Henry noticed that the murmuring from David's room had quieted, meaning that story time was likely over and David had been put to bed. Hopefully Dad and Becker were holed up together in their bedroom so Henry could have the TV to himself. (Two seconds after finishing that thought, Henry inwardly shuddered. Horrible nightmares, really.)
Unfortunately, when he reached the living room it was to discover that Dad and Becker were on the sofa again, getting set to watch something and pouring whisky into what looked like another two mugs of hot chocolate. Henry debated asking if he could have one, too.
Dad looked up as Henry came closer. "I'm sorry, Henry, do you want us to get out of your way?"
Henry waited for a minute, hesitating, and then he said, "No." He sat down on the sofa, Dad and Becker shifting to make room. "What are you watching?"
"That new Sherlock Holmes the BBC did, have you seen it?"
"Some. Julia fancies the bloke who plays Sherlock." He was kind of weird-looking, in Henry's opinion. The internet said he looked like an otter; Henry could see it.
"Becker prefers Lestrade."
"He is very pretty," Becker commented, completely unashamed.
"Someone's got a thing for older men," Henry said, not really thinking about it.
There was a moment of surprised silence and then Becker laughed while Dad said, "Less of the old, if you please," the corners of his mouth turning up. His eyes were grateful as they met Henry's.
Henry held his gaze for a few seconds before he had to turn away, feeling uncomfortable.
"Mycroft's not so bad either," Becker said thoughtfully. "Snarky, controlling, looks good in a suit." He pressed a kiss to Dad's head.
Henry watched them, insides twisting a little in embarrassment, but he supposed that was only to be expected. He thought... he thought maybe Julia was right. Henry hated to admit it, but she usually was. It was okay, like this. Dad was happy and Henry was… He was tired of hating his dad. He was tired of being so angry all the time. He was tired of pretending he didn't like Becker when he did.
It wasn't like everything was magically perfect, like he was having some huge epiphany. He just… Henry remembered being a kid, he remembered a time when Dad had been at all of his matches, when there had been no better feeling than seeing Dad's smile and knowing that Henry had made him proud. Dad was trying and Henry reckoned he could make an effort, too.
Nothing was ever going to be like it was but maybe that was okay. Mum could smile sometimes when Dad's name came up and they could be together in the same room, they could talk and laugh like they were friends. She always spoke of Becker with fondness and Henry knew they talked on the phone sometimes, just because. It was better like this, better for all of them.
Henry supposed this was what normal was now and he was fine with it.
End