Disclaimer: I own nothing. It would be awesome if I did, but I don't.
Jack sat on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, lower lip quivering. He was trying his hardest not to cry, but every now and again a tear would roll down his cheek. His expression was mixture of outright anger, hurt pride, and sorrow. For a five-year-old, he had a rather impressive range of expressions. For instance, he had inherited the almighty 'Death Glare' from both of sides of his family. Jack's glare had reduced an entire playground full of fifth graders to tears. At the moment he was using his infamous glare on an unfortunate coffee table. His glacial blue eyes shimmered with indignant tears and he sniffled mightily.
Jonah Sheffield, one of his cousins, had found great amusement in tormenting him. The elder boys twin sister, Eve, had added in several things she thought her brother had left out. It hadn't reduced him to tears, but it had made him angry enough to leave. Jack didn't like hitting people and besides, Jonah was older. Every sane person knew that you didn't pick fights with bigger kids.
Jonah's torments had hurt him deeply and even though Jack was only five, he had understood enough of those jeering taunts to make him very upset.
Which is how his Aunt Fran found him.
"Oo-oh, Sweetie!" She crooned, wrapping her arms around his narrow shoulders. "What's the matter?"
Jack winced involuntarily. He loved his Auntie Fran, he really did, but for the life of him he couldn't understand how everybody else in his family put up with her voice. It was like somebody was reducing his eardrums to dust with a cheese grater.
"And her New York accent doesn't help in the slightest." The blonde boy thought. "Does she know there is an 'R' in the English alphabet?" He mused for a moment, thoughts getting sidetracked.
"Fran, honey? Where are you?" Uncle Max called from the other room. He walked into the foyer and spotted her on the couch. "Ah, there you are. Have you seen my - "
She cut him off quite thoroughly with her piercing voice.
"Maxwell! Can't you see I'm busy?"
The man in question blinked and craned his neck so he could see what she was talking about.
"Ah. Jack." He said, "What's the matter, Jackie boy?"
Jack was starting to get irritated. He wanted to be left alone.
"I'd really like some time alone." He articulated without sounding rude. It was quite a feat in and of itself.
"We are alone, sweetie." Fran said matter-of-factly. Jack sighed. Relatives penned him in on either side and they had no intention of letting him go without extracting a story from him.
"That sounds painful." The small boy thought to himself. Uncle Max sat on his left side and both adults waited for him to start.
"Someone told me that my parents hate each other." He began, opting to keep Jonah and Eve out of it. He had a feeling the Sheffield elders wouldn't approve of their children's behavior, but decided to keep their involvement to himself. "They said my parents only stay together because of me and the second I'm old enough, Mom and Dad will sell me to the Gypsies. They told me that one day I'd come home from school and they'd have strangled each other." Jack heaved a huge shuddering sigh, his glare softening to a vulnerable look.
"Maybe they're right. I have never heard them say 'I love you' or any of that gushy stuff you and Uncle Max say to each other. I don't want to live with Gypsies." He confessed quietly, tears pricking his eyes once more.
"Oh, sweetie!" Fran repeated shrilly, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Who told you that load of rubbish?" Max demanded.
"It doesn't matter, Uncle Max. I think I'll go home and sit in a corner, alone, for the rest of my life. I'll make friends with the spiders and learn their mysterious ways." Jack said, eyes distant as he thought out his new life amid the arachnids. Max and Fran exchanged a confused look. Jack had definitely inherited his Father's affinity for drama.
"Now you listen to me young man," Max said firmly. "You're parents love each other. I know this for a fact. Sometimes they amaze me by how deep their love is. Unlike most married couples in the world, your parents have found a way to love every single aspect about each other. It may seem childish or even foolish to some and sometimes other people, like this individual who spoke so callously about matter he didn't understand, only see the fighting."
"Yeah," Fran chirped in, "When your parents 'fight' they're really saying 'I love you' over and over again."
Jack gave her a weird look.
"It's true." Max confirmed. "Now, about this bully who told you those vicious lies…" He trailed off, expecting Jack to pick up from there.
"I don't think it matters any more, Uncle Max. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." Jack recited.
"Nonsense." Max said. "When someone insults your family name, it's a completely different story. It's a matter of pride, of family honor." He thought for a moment. "What is your family name, anyway? Did your parents decide on Babcock or… or… Fran, honey, what was Niles' last name?"
She ignored him.
"The next time someone tries to tell you lies about your family, you just pop 'em right in the mouth." Fran said enthusiastically.
Jack stared at her.
"You want me to punch somebody on purpose?" He asked incredulously.
"Isn't he sweet?" She gushed to her husband.
He ignored her.
"Jack, your family is very special. Your parents went through an enormous amount of pain and anguish to be together. They had to overcome deep-seated prejudice and a lifetime of different thinking to just be civil to each other. I can't even imagine what they've gone through and how deep their love runs. You are part of them. They love you more than you could ever imagine." Max explained. "So when Fran says to 'pop 'em in the mouth' she isn't kidding and neither am I."
Jack inhaled deeply. Sure, he hadn't understood some of the larger words his Uncle had used, but he had understood enough. He gave the Sheffields a wide grin and hugged them.
"Thank you, Uncle Max and Auntie Fran." He said gratefully before scampering off.
"He's so adorable." Fran said. Max scooted closer to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
"He looks so much like his parents." He agreed with a slight smile of his own.
She sighed romantically, leaning against her husband as she thought about how lucky everybody in their odd little family had turned out to be.
An incredulity and pain-filled scream interrupted their sweet contemplation.
"That sounded like Jonah." Fran said worriedly, standing. As if on cue, the curly black haired six-year-old ran into the room, tears streaming down his cheek and blood running out of his nose. It was already starting to swell.
"Mommy!" He cried, rushing into his mother's arms. "Jack punched me!"
Maxwell and Fran exchanged looks.
"Oy." Max supplied.