Title: The Cost of Snowballs
Summary: Mason sneaks out of the house one day and Derek still hasn't figured out this whole 'parent' thing.
Based Off / Inspired By: The Convergence; father/son dynamic with Liza.
Characters: Ben Derek / Mason Winters.
Disclaimer: Mason Winters is an OC created with Liza. Jenna Winters, mentioned in this drabble, is an OC created by Liza.
"Mason!"
He's moving quickly; steps swift, heart pounding. Jenna's already gone in the other direction, down the road, calling their child's name just as loudly as he has been doing. The sound bounces off of snow drifts and icy roads. He could slip. He could hit his head, be nabbed by a monster. Someone could snatch him, hurt him, without knowing he wouldn't respawn; or worse: they would know, and they'd do it anyway. He could get lost, freeze. Get sick. All sorts of scenarios ran through his head, and he's not ready for them.
Not ready for any of this, really. He had less than three weeks to prepare for being a father. Was still getting used to it all, even as time passed. He was slow, learning this. He was sure it tested Jenna's patience. Sure it would impact his son. He was trying though. Trying to stay calm. Trying not to panic, as he continued moving through the cold air; he hadn't bothered to grab a jacket when he'd noted the open door to the house, the small footprints outside. His breath was visible before him and soon he was running, still calling the boy's name, searching...
"Daddy!" Finally, he heard a response. Moments later, and Mason himself stumbled from around a building corner, cheeks red, snowballs in his hand. There was a slight smile on his face and then Derek was jogging over to him. Bending down and scooping him up into his arms and clutching him to his chest as he exhaled sharply and closed his eyes briefly as he vaguely heard the boy rambling about snow and how far he could hurl an ice ball using his powers. Trying to slow his pulse, because the last time that fear had hit him, he'd lost his brother forever. The kind of protectiveness that ran through him like a cold knife took him off guard; just like the affection he'd felt for a child growing in its mother's womb had completely shook him.
So when Mason suddenly started going on about the art of snowball making, he wasn't even thinking as he pulled the boy away from him rather roughly, placing him on the ground as he heard himself talk. He meant for it to come out a warning; it came out a shout. An angry, fearful command. "Don't you EVER do that again!"
And Mason falls silent, suddenly, like someone had hit mute. His brown eyes widen and he stares up at the other, maybe finally sensing the wave of emotions coming from the man. Probably just seeing and feeling the anger. Derek means to stop. Means to pick him up again, call Jenna, and they can both talk to him together.
But he almost lost him. He HAD lost him, he'd wandered right out of the house even though he was a security guard and was supposed to know how to keep the place safe. And he doesn't stop. He realizes, seconds later, that he's still yelling.
"We've been lookin' everywhere for you! Do you have any idea how worried we were? Its dangerous out here, Mason! We had no idea where the kriffin' hell you were!" All sorts of parental lines spill from his lips, sharply, without hesitation. They pour out but at least as his volume goes up, the shaking dies down a bit. He can start to think clearly again; his breaths are evening out even though they are also short from shouting. And by the time he finally DOES stop, Mason's eyes are big and shocked and watering and Derek is just standing there, running both hands through his hair and then down his face. In the silence that follows, he closes his eyes briefly, regret plowing through him just as the fear had. Magnifying when he finally hears his son shift, and the little voice timidly and tearfully pipe up, " 'm sorry, Daddy."
Shaking his head, Derek purses his lips and ducks down, slowly pulling the boy back to him. Mason holds onto him, burying his face into his shoulder but not in a happy, cuddling way, and Derek swallows thickly as he breathes out slowly, regaining his composure. "its okay. You're okay," he mumbles, slowly beginning to turn and walk down the road to find Jenna. "You're okay. 'm sorry."
"I didn't mean to be bad, Daddy."
"You're not bad, Mason. You just had us scared."
"I didn't want to scare you."
"I know. I... shouldn't have yelled." Why had he yelled. The boy had wanted to play with the snow. He didn't know how this worked, when he was allowed to yell at the boy, when it was warranted or when it was over the line. Didn't know what to do. If this situation required discipline, if it didn't... He didn't know, so he just held his son close and picked up his pace when he saw the woman up ahead. He'd give Mason to Jenna, see what she did, try to copy her.
And try not to feel like he was still so damn clueless.