I don't own the characters. Home is an apartment in town.
A short story - Parental Pteropus
Bruce is reading the newspaper, coffee in his hand. He puts the cup down yearning for a refill. Dick, a little tired reaches for the cup. "I can fix it dad."
A quick glance, a red face. Drops everything and rushes out of the room. Bruce calmly follows. The boy sits in the hallway leaning against the wall with his head bowed. The big guy sits beside him. "Sometimes you say the wrong things. When you do so it's ok. Sometimes you say things because it's what you want." Silence. "If you want to we can look into it." A quick smile. "Nah". Back at the table, they carry on as nothing happened. "Does people change their lastname name then?" "If one want to." "Does someone become a family?" "Yeah".
Lots of thoughts. Is that what he wants? The loss is still there like a big black lump. Maybe the word just slipped out by mistake. A family ... He feels a bigger hand on his. Comforting. Discovers that the tears a threatening to start flowing. Doesn't think, doesn't want to. Throws his arms around the big guy. The gesture surprises him, but he hugs him back. The boy shrugs, but he is not going to start crying. The man knows about the sorrows and how deep they can run.
Breathing calms down. A deep breath. Wipes his dry face with a hand, blows his nose and then stands by the table. Takes up the newspaper to continue, but only remains still.
"Come, sit down." "If one wants to, then how..." "Well ... I guess we could just agree, or make a real adoption. We can check."
He looks at the computer and hits a few buttons. "You can order forms." "Then I can stay?" "What? What do you mean?" Mumbles. "What did you say?" "You will not send me away?" "Hey! This is your home. I would never do that. What makes you think so?" "Stella said ... If I did ... You did not want me here." "The room is yours. Forever if you want. Whatever we decide here and now, do you understand?" "I ... do not ... want to... did." He looks at his hands. "You should not listen much to what Stella says. I will talk to her." "NO!" "What´s up? What is it you have done?" The boy looks away. Pulling the fabric on one sleeve. Quiet, chewing on his lip. Then he carefully looks up. "It does not matter what you did. You can tell me another time." The man picks up his newspaper. "A can." "A can?" "I ... I took it. It´s behind the books. I don't want it. I dare not return it. Stella said that I can´t stay here. You'll be furious ... I´m frightened!" The last part is just a whisper.
Taking both of the kids hands the big guy looks straight at him. "Don't worry. Take it easy. Tell me again what happened?" "A soda. I could not afford. Stuffed it into…" The boy looks really worried. He is almost chewing a hole in his lip. "Do you want to show me?" The kid walks into his room, picking up the soda. "A can?!" "I don't want it." A small sob. "Let's place it here. Than we can return it tomorrow." Places the can out of sight in the kitchen.