At first he didn't want to, but Abraxas insisted so much he finally complied. He would take care of his younger half brother while his dad (the word was still difficult for him) and his brand new wife went on honey moon.
Thomas left the boy around 9 o'clock on his door, and Tom could tell the man was also nervous with the exchange, but said nothing.
Like I would kill a one year old baby just for the kicks, he thought, rolling his eyes.
They said goodbye and good travel and good take care of your younger brother don't forget he likes to eat paint and finally departed.
Abraxas should have been there to help take care of the little brat, but his father – always his father – owled him requesting an immediate meeting on London to discuss about a possible attack the Minister had suffered.
Tom sat his half brother on the couch. They both looked at each other in wonder. He sighed, and the child did the same. He furrowed his eyebrows at this, and was imitated again.
"What are you playing at?" Tom finally said, and he was pretty sure the boy would have repeated his words had he known how to speak. Instead, the child only made a few strange sounds and laughed.
Tom sighed again, stopping himself from rolling his eyes.
"Look – what's your name again? Feliks, right – I will go to the kitchen and see if there's something for you to eat." And with this, Tom gave his back to his brother. He was pretty sure Abraxas had bought children's food, he only had to find out where that blasted man had put those. It was after he found the food (hidden behind the milk in the upper cupboard, goddamn it Abraxas) that Tom heard a soft "tumph" and the baby started crying.
When he reached the living room he saw Feliks lying on the ground, still screaming with all his might.
"Why did you try to get off the sofa, you stupid little thing?" Tom asked to the baby who in exchange screamed louder. He took his brother on his arms again, gently stroking his head and cradling him. "There's no need to so much crying, you know. I hardly ever fell when I was a kid, but when I did I never cried. Not once. It's not good to do that, because then people know you're in pain, and they can use it against you." His voice seemed to calm the child, for his screaming got lower until it stopped nonetheless. Now, Feliks looked Tom with his big blue eyes. He thought he could recognize the colour of his father's eyes in them. The man shook his head, and brought the kid to the kitchen, sitting him on a chair he had magically transfigurated to keep the little thing safe.
"Here, what do you want to eat? This... Soup thing made of vegetables or made of pumpkin?" He offered both to the child in front of him. Feliks pulled a face and shook his head forcefully. "Well buddy, you gotta chose one. Or not eat at all. That's an option too." Feliks seemed to have understood that, for the corners of his mouth turned down and he seemed about to cry once again.
"Oh no no no no. I am sorry, okay? No not-eating. Here, you can eat this..." Tom reached on the cupboard again and pulled out a pot of pudding, which he handed to the boy. This time, he accepted the offer, and started eating greedily. It was Tom's turn to pull a face. "Have no one taught you how to eat gracefully? Here, let me clean you up." He continued after Feliks had eaten everything, taking the boy on his arms for the third time that night and walking upstairs to the bathroom. There, he used paper and water to clean the mess the brat had made with the pudding (how did he manage to have pudding on his hair, for god's sake?).
Tom put the kid on the ground for a minute so he could clean himself up. When he looked again, Feliks was crawling near the stairs, making the man run after him and stop the disaster that were bound to happen.
"Really, are you out of your mind?" He asked the kid, breathless. His brother only smiled at him, his little, barely visible teeth showing. "I cannot leave you one second alone!" Tom complained to himself while walking to the room where the little kid would sleep.
Abraxas had turned the guest room into a child's room before he went. Now, little starts were glowing in the roof, reflecting the night outside. Feliks seemed to have been amazed by it, for his little hands shoot up immediately as if he wanted to touch the starts with his own finger. Tom chuckled.
"Those are only fake, kiddo. But maybe one day you can touch one for real. Who knows. In the mean time, you have to get used to the pretend, which is better than nothing, I suppose." Tom lay the baby down on the crib made of green silk. "And now you're going to sleep, because your big brother needs to study."
"No." That time it was Feliks voice. The man blinked, surprised. He didn't expect the little thing to actually answer.
"What do you mean, no? Yes!" And with this, Tom went forward to close the curtains (which were decorated with little smiling suns). When the turned again, his brother had somehow conjurated a few paints – in the colour blue, yellow and green – and were eating them, his chubby fingers and his mouth all coloured. "WHAT IN SALAZAR'S NAME ARE YOU DOING? YOU LITTLE BRAT!"
It would definitely be a long, long night.