With a grip that'd surely rival a python, he drove, not wanting to look in the review mirror. She sat beside him, trying her damn best to stifle her sobbing. The city flickered by them, the setting sun mocking their mournful demeanour. They continued to drive, around and around, lost in their thoughts and sorrows as the street lights flickered to life, the hospital haunting the corner of their vision at every turn. She sniffled loudly, before cursing quietly at herself. Hopefully he hadn't heard her. As they pulled up at a red light, she slowly turned in her seat, looking over the headrest at her little man, worried as to what she may find.
He was ashen and unmoving, head wrapped tightly in a thick, white bandage, resting against the car seat. His eyes dully reflected the city lights, his tiny hands fisted in his lap. He was humming, softly, to himself, but she could tell he had already forgotten the tune. To him now, it was all vibrations, colour and taste. As if feeling her gaze upon him, his eyes swept over to her direction, and upon making contact, he offered a small, small smile.
That did it.
Hand flying to her mouth, Mimi spun back around in her seat, tears pouring down her cheeks. This shouldn't be happening. He was meant to be bright, and bubbly and never shutting up. The only bandages upon him should be the ones she plastered across scrapped knees and elbows, but not before kissing them better. He should be singing at the top of his lungs, letting the world carry the tune, not this quiet mumble she barely recognised. He should be begging for them to release him from his seat, to stop for ice-cream, to adopt the dog or cat or racoon he had seen on the sidewalk. Not this statue of a boy.
Mike released one hand from the steering wheel long enough to reach out and squeeze her shoulder comfortingly, an action that didn't go unnoticed by their son. She saw his sad eyes reflected in the wing mirror and it was all she could do not to rip her seatbelt off and throw herself at the small boy. She wanted to kiss and cuddle away all the pain and fear, to reassure him that everything would be alright. But she felt that if she did, she'd be giving him empty promises.
At long last they signalled to turn into their modest property, and it wasn't fast enough for them to escape the stifling atmosphere in the car. Mike stormed inside, and shut himself in the den, most likely to drown his sorrows in gin. Alone, she wiped at her cheeks and eyes, mascara smudged and dripping as she tried to force a smile. Opening the car door, she began to unbuckled Austin, only to see him reach out to touch her hand and murmured the first words he'd said all day.
"Do you love me mummy?"
His voice was croaky and stumbling, and she could see that he couldn't fully register what his voice sounded like. Taking a shaky breath, she tried to keep her forced smile in place, fingers clumsily undoing the straps.
"Of course sweetheart. Mummy loves you."
He didn't register that he'd heard her, just continued staring at her hopefully. Trying to piece her broken heart together, she crouched down in the driveway next to him, looking him dead in the eye.
"Austin, I love you. Daddy loves you. I promise you honey, we both love you, so very, very much."
He shifted uncomfortably, looking annoyed at himself for not being able to hear what she was trying to say. As he fiddled with his fingers and the straps still holding him in, she got any idea. Capturing his attention, she held up a finger for him to wait a moment, before diving into the glove compartment in the front. After some searching, she found a working pen and some paper, thanking the gods that he could read simple English already. Finishing her message, she went back to Austin, crouching down again so he could read what she had written.
I love you.
He smiled, and she took that as encouragement to continue writing.
And just how long will I love you?
His smile grew, recognising the lyric from his lullaby.
"As long as stars are above me?"
And longer if I can.
He grinned and held out his tiny arms for a hug, to which she willing obliged. She buried her face against his feather soft hair that had escaped the bandages, rocking them back and forth, murmuring the same line over and over again. She didn't care if he couldn't hear her. She didn't care if he couldn't understand her. Right now, it may be an obstacle, but they'd get over it in time.
"As long as stars are above you." She whispered, never wanting to let go.