Heyyyyy, who's ever anticipated something so much that when it actually happens and it doesn't quite live up to your expectations... you get cranky. Poor Takeru. Poor mommy Natsuko.

This takes place immediately after the last chapter. Probably the only two-shot planned for Strobe.

At Patamon's exclamation Takeru jumped, straightening up and smiling even wider. He knew she was coming, but his mother's sudden appearance had startled all of them. There was a brief silence before his mother ground out,

"Hiroaki, a word."

The atmosphere had gone from light and cheery to tense in a matter of seconds. Takeru's smile slipped. They wouldn't fight while he was in the hospital, right? He felt an old pang in his chest.

Chairs were being moved on both sides of his bed. He felt the weight of the dinner tray leave the mattress, and the addition of his partner's warm paws near his knee. There were footsteps, clothes rustling and the sharp crinkle of paper. Someone whispered something low, and the door shut with a cold, solid click. Then nothing. The radio had been turned off.

Confusion swirled in his belly, did everyone leave? Surely onii-chan wouldn't have gone without saying anything? The room was too quiet and his heart was suddenly much too loud. There was nothing solid to ground him except the bed. He gripped the sheets in his lap, the fingers on his left hand twitching with the movement. The feelings he had been trying to ignore since Sora left came creeping back, welling hot in his chest. He felt like such a baby for admitting it, but he really wanted his mom. And now she was here, but favored yelling at his dad over seeing him? That wasn't fair to either of them. He was sure she was just stressed from all her delays, but couldn't she visit him first? They hadn't seen each other in nearly two weeks anyway. Tears he couldn't wipe away pricked at his eyes and his throat felt tight. Muffled shouting erupted from the hallway, too quiet for him to make out.

A loud, frustrated sigh a few feet to his right scared the wits out of him. Takeru tried to calm his frantic heart, appreciating that he was no longer hooked up to the heartbeat monitor.

"Onii-chan?"

"Sorry Teeks," His brother sounded tired suddenly. Old. "She's probably just nagging Dad about letting you eat junk food in the hospital. We won't tell her about the skittles, kay?" Takeru could hear the forced smile. Yamato hadn't tried to make a joke out of his parent's fighting since before the divorce. It wasn't a nice reminder.

Takeru's face crumpled and the eye patches under the mask rubbed on his wet cheeks.

"Can't they get along for a few minutes?" His voice sounded stained even to his own ears. He reached up and pulled off the sunglasses, dropping them next to the bed where he hoped the little table was. A soft clink told him he was on target.

Patamon crawled closer and Takeru reached out for him. Patamon's warm weight in his arms was always a comfort, touch especially important now that one of his other senses was cut off. He pulled the little digimon close and laid back on the raised bed, pulling his legs up. His left knee gave a dull twinge. He tried not to think about missing basketball.

"It'll be okay Takeru," Patamon said quietly, tucking the top of his head under the boy's chin.

Yamato sat heavily next to him on the bed and put his arm around his shoulders. Takeru curled into his brother's side, drawing comfort from his soft breathing and the sound of his heartbeat. The three of them stayed that way for a few minutes until the door cracked open again. Natsuko's voice carried softly into the room.

"Yamato, could you give us a minute, please?"

An irritated grumble was the only response. Takeru felt his brother's weight shift off the mattress and footsteps clacked quietly towards the door.

A low whisper sounded from his mom, but Takeru couldn't quite make it out.

Yamato's hissed response was clear though.

"Whatever, just don't take it out on him."

Takeru ducked his head. Did onii-chan mean him? Or was he referring to Dad? Why would Mom be upset with either of them really?

The chosen of hope was surprised by the irritation bubbling inside him. Who was he even mad at? Dad was doing his best to visit and work around his schedule, and Mom just flew halfway around the world to see him. His brother had been here every step of the way and Patamon was with him now too. He had it good. So why did he suddenly want his mom to just leave after wanting nothing more but to see her for the past day? Nothing made sense. His head was throbbing and the stitches on his temple were prickling uncomfortably against his skin. His left hand was frustratingly tingly and the edge of the cast tickled. Everything was just too much. Takeru was hot and everything was just so annoying and they had actually been having fun when Mom showed up and ruined everything.

Takeru paused at the uncontrolled thought. That was a bit harsh, but it felt true. He had been happy and distracted from the odd new aches that appeared each time the morphine wore off. His neck and back were becoming increasingly stiff and sore as the day went on, and playing cards had been a welcome relief. This was all just so stupid. Doctor Moriya had given him permission to play around and have fun and-

A warm hand on his arm startled his trainwreck of thoughts.

"Takeru, honey?" His mom sounded so exhausted and worried that he wanted to take back everything he just thought. Apparently his mouth had other ideas.

"Why did you do that?" He snapped, pulling away from her hand. Takeru froze, asking himself the same question. Regret churned horribly in his chest. That was so unfair of him. He loved his mom. She was trying.

"What?" His mother breathed beside him.

He couldn't answer. His head throbbed and horrified tears pooled in his eyes. Takeru knew that the concussion and medication could make him moody, but he hadn't expected it to make him mean.

"Takeru?"

Oh god, she sounded so hurt. He just wanted to curl up and disappear. Patamon was being uncharacteristically quiet in his lap. Takeru leaned forward as much as he could without crushing his partner and hid his face in his knees. He would not cry in front of her right now when he was the one who just said something nasty. His chin trembled traitorously.

He felt the bed dip on his left and held as still as possible. One soft, gentle hand hesitantly traced the bruising on his cheek. Against his will, he found himself leaning into the contact.

His mother wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close, tucking his head under her chin the same way he had done with Patamon. She rubbed his back tenderly and pressed endless soft kisses in his hair.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," She whispered.

The dam burst.

Sorry its a bit short, but anything I can't imagine Takeru actually confronting his mom any further than this. I think she is plenty smart enough to understand exactly what he meant.

Kudos to the amazing parents out there who step up and apologize to their kids when they hurt them, accidentally or otherwise. It means so much to a child.