5:38 PM
"Babe, if I could go anywhere in the universe I'd go to you."
"Shiro?" Even though he can't see it through a phone call, Allura can't help but smirk. "You're stuck in traffic. Aren't you?"
"I've resorted to singing the Altean alphabet."
"You sound busy," she says, in a voice smooth as cream. "Maybe we should talk later."
"No! No, please, don't hang up."
She shuts the lid of her laptop, all productive thought eaten alive by fuzzy thoughts and greedy butterflies. "You're so needy."
"Babe, talk to me. How was your day? How's your hair look? Did you finish that project for work?"
"Power point done, absolutely fabulous, and so terribly dull. Except for Keith. He came home early with a fever." She swivels around in the chair away from the desk, cozy socks trailing along the faded floorboards. "I've already given him medicine but he made me promise you'd make him his favorite soup when you get in. But, if you like, I'll make it and tell him you did."
"That's alright. You won't do it right."
". . . Excuse me?"
"Oh, look a green light!"
"Don't you dare and hang up."
Shiro went on to make faux static. "You're cutting out, babe."
"Takashi!" Allura rouses from her seat at the sound of the doorbell. Likely Hunk back from his playdate.
"Kershkrrrk."
It's at this point she reaches the door to the apartment, and her attention falls to thanking Honerva for dropping Hunk off. She's helpless and Shiro's hopeless. The call ends. With a subtle eye roll, she tucks her cell into her back pocket.
"Have a good evening," Honerva offers with a smile.
"Uh, yes. Thank you again." Allura's hand drifts to rest on her son's shoulder. This only prompts a minimal wave from him, before he slips away into the kitchen. Her sharp eyes follow him, quick to catch the glum look on his face, before they snap back to the woman at the door. "Well, we'll see you, then."
"See you next week." With that, Honerva is off.
Allura closes the door, and merely observes as Hunk retrieves a cookie from the cookie jar, porcelain and shaped like a mouse. He pauses, and holds up the treat. "Is it okay, Mama?"
"Hm." Allura crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe, head tilted. "You know Papa will be home and we'll eat supper soon."
He ducks his head in defeat, and dark hair falls in his eyes. "I know."
"Well, as long as it's just one." As she throws out her arms, she knows she's such a softie. She can't help but be when her children are so precious. "You may have it for the price of a hug."
This lights up his face. "Thanks." He rushes into her previously offered embrace, and tackles her at the waist. She can only marvel a split moment at how tall he's getting before the momentum tips her backward and she has to cling onto the molding to steady herself. "You're the best, Mama."
"You're very welcome, hon." Allura regains her balance enough to shift both arms around him, then runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it. "Did you have fun at Lotor's house?" At this, he stiffens. "What? What is it?"
"I don't wanna go back."
Allura takes him by the shoulders and holds him back so she can look him in the eye. "What happened?"
"He made fun of my pet." His big brown gaze drops to the floor, and his eyebrows pull together. "Then he tried to take it away, but I wouldn't let him, because he used to have a pet lizard but he killed it. I don't think he's very good at nurturing."
Surprise is just an emotion that comes with the job. With being a mom. Her children endlessly catch her off guard, and one would think she'd get used to it. Allura blinks, unpacking everything. "Uhm. Well. I'm sorry, sweetie. He shouldn't have treated you that way." Her fingers rifle through his hair once more. ". . . You have a pet?"
The twinkle returns to his eyes. "Yeah! Want to meet her?"
"I'd like that very much, sweetheart," she says patiently. Something tells her not to panic quite yet. Instead she watches curiously as Hunk reaches into his pants pocket and rummages around a bit before bringing out something smooth and round. Not an insect, or a turtle. It's a. . .
"A rock?"
Hunk nods, and offers it out for a better look. "Her name is Shay."
"Well. I think you're right," she says gently. "Shay seems like the sort of pet that needs a lot of nurturing." Allura lifts a finger to run over the smoothed surface, almost like glass, the size of a kiwi fruit. "I'm glad she has you to look after her."
Something decidedly proud shines in his face, and when he speaks up, her heart melts. "I learned how to nurture from you, Mama."
6:13 PM
Warmth seeps through the red mug into Shiro's hands, at least the one that isn't prosthetic. He takes care not to spill as he opens the door to the boys' room and makes his way across the navy carpet. Only a single frame lay curled up in the bed, with sheets draped over his shoulders and tangled around his feet. He managed to kick the comforter more than half down the mattress. As Shiro sinks down beside him, he slides a hand under inky tangled hair to feel for Keith's fever.
The touch wakes him, and sleepy, hazy eyes stare up at him. "Papa?" His voice is coarse, worn down and croaky from sick and sleep.
"Hey, bud." Shiro adjusts the spoon settled in the mug. "I made you soup."
With some effort, Keith manages to sit up. His gaze stays on the warm, soothing broth, and they both catch the agreeable rumble that comes from his tummy. "Thank you." His pale, slender hands take hold of it. They're quiet as he takes a small taste, then proceeds to take a good spoonful and another. Keith pauses after that, dark brows furrowing. "Papa, is my hair going to turn white?"
Shiro restrains a chuckle. "Why would your hair turn white?"
"Because I'm sick." He lowers the mug to rest in his lap, at the crook of his knee. "Some of your hair turned white when you got sick."
Instinctively, almost a self conscious response, Shiro's hand travels to the shock of white. "Oh." He forces the hand away and gives Keith a gentle smile. "Well I'm pretty sure I was sick with something different than what you caught. You'll be just fine."
"Yeah," Keith says, his voice still rough. "And even if it does turn white, it's okay, because you and Mama both have white hair."
"That's right, bud." Shiro can't help but reach out and pull him closer. "But remember what Mama and I told you? That you don't have to look like us to be our son? We love all of you."
The smile is discrete, but Shiro still catches the curve of Keith's lips. He braves through his hoarse throat, because nothing could have kept him from saying what was in his heart. "We all love you too."
8:02 PM
The living room is lit with the golden glow of fairy lights and blue screen light. After much debate, the boys finally agreed to watch The Force Awakens. Keith is thoroughly bundled in his Kylo Ren fleece blanket, and Shiro settles on the floor, back braced against the sofa while he sorts through the laundry hamper, folding little onesies and tees and colorful socks with dinosaurs and space shuttles printed on. Occasionally he'll come across his own tees, fit for a giant compared to the little cub clothes, or one of Allura's pink and lace unmentionables. He unearths his long pair of navy socks that Lance frequently likes to wear over his hands and call himself the "socktapus".
In the lull that follows the opening crawl and orchestral theme, the sound of the bath running trickles down the hall. Shiro's gaze darts over to Lance, assured that he's contently snuggled on the sofa and not out to flood the bath again. As he folds the octopus socks, he briefly entertains the idea of getting Lance a pet fish for his birthday, or perhaps Christmas. Allura won't be as easily swayed, though. Perhaps sometime when he catches her in a wonderful mood, he'll broach the "no pets" subject.
"Papa." Hunk leans forward over the edge of the sofa, tugging gently at Shiro's sleeve. "Can I have a sock as a bed for Shay?"
"What kind of bed does she like? Fluffy? Striped?"
"LOOK." Lance bursts forward, a finger pointed to the screen. "There's Keef!"
Each head swivels up to watch as Kylo Ren stalks down the ramp of his ship.
Keith lets out a pathetic cough. "M'not."
"And there's Poe, the real hero." Lance jabs Keith in the side, seeming unaware of his brother's feverish misery. He only offers a weak glare from under the shadow of his blanket. "That's me."
"What about me and Shay?" Hunk tucks his little rock into the safe, cozy bundle of one of Allura's socks. "Are we heroes too?"
"Uh, sure. You can be Finn," Lance supplies. "And Shay can be BB-8, I guess."
Allura pops in to grab a fresh towel for Pidge, who is dripping all over the front of her pink sweatshirt. The youngest of their family sports a wild mohawk, her coppery and freshly shampooed hair easily coifed up. Her mother continues to dry her as she lowers into the couch cushion alongside Shiro and next to Keith. Her husband drapes an arm on her knee, and is rewarded with a quick kiss.
"Everything alright out here?" she asks.
Lance shoves at Keith to get closer, his eyes wide. "Hey, Pidge can be Rey!"
Allura's eyes widen a fraction. "What's going on?"
Shiro tips his head back to give her a mischievous glance. "Oh, nothing much. We just have next year's Halloween costumes picked out for the family."
Keith huffs, before getting sick of Lance pushing at him. His arms snake from underneath his cocoon to shove him back into his own spot. "Shut up, Lance, I can't hear the movie."
"Lance," Allura sits Pidge up in her lap. "Stop pushing. Keith, that's no way to speak to your brother."
Both boys hang their heads.
Lance is the first to peek over, his attention drawn from the movie for a moment to look at his brother. "Hey, Keef?" When there is no response, he goes on. "We don't hafta watch Star Wars. We can watch something where you win and I lose."
Snuffles follow, as Keith clears his sinuses. "S'better than the little mermaid. . ."
And with that, the family settles in to watch the rest of the film in relative peace. Pidge is the first to fall, swiftly followed by Hunk then Keith. Soft snores rise out of Shiro, and one by one they all succumb to the lure of sleep. The third act has yet to start when Mama and Papa begin to herd sleep hazed, eye rubbing children into pjs and shortly after their beds.
The last light sends a warm glow along the hall as Allura and Shiro walk hand in hand, in search of their own soft, warm covers. The space around them is quiet, and strange, like magic in a way that perhaps they only imagine. But as the space between them closes, nuzzles and kisses sending butterflies from their bellies to their toes, the light switch clicks and the starried night carries them all into slumbers full of blissful dreams.
