Hello Warpers and welcome to week two of the mpas fanfic challenge Galimatias and I have set up!
Now first I would like to apologize. This was published a few hours after our agreed deadline so it's technically a day late. I'm afraid this prompt was a real doozy to write for. However, I promise I have yet to look at Gal's entry this week. Rest assured that is the first place I will go after this is posted!
Still, I hope this idea works for the quote Gal picked. I admit it's not my best work. It's kinda clunky and the pacing isn't great. I promise I'll turn out something better put together next week.
On the bright side, I'm sure whatever Galimatias has written this week will be wonderful! I look forward to reading what she has come up with!
"We're taught to expect unconditional love from our parents, but I think it is more the gift our children give us. It's they who love us helplessly, no matter what or who we are.."
~Kathryn Harrison
A warm breeze blew through the trees of Central Park, twisting under the boughs and wafting over the many pedestrians below. The breeze only felt like a hot blast of air amid the humid smog of the city, but even the slightest shift of air was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat.
However heat was the last thing on the mind of little Sherman Peabody. The five year-old bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, his oversized glasses knocking to the tip of his nose. He was staring over at the parks colorful playground, wanting nothing more than to join the happily shrieking children as they climbed over the whimsical structures.
"Mr. Peabody can I please go play now?!" The boy gave his father the biggest smile he could muster.
Sherman had been patiently waiting for a week so Mr. Peabody could take him on an outing. As of late the genius had been busy with what he called "paperwork," sorta like homework for adults. But he'd promised to take Sherman for an outing on Saturday and Peabody was a dog of his word. Unfortunately the WABAC still needed a re-fueling from their last trip to 12th century Scotland, so Peabody had opted to take his boy to the park instead.
The beagle tutted absently as he wiped a smudge of dirt from the boy's cheek. "Now Sherman we do not say "can I?" we say "may I?" He lectured casually.
Sherman puffed his cheeks and let out a long suffering sigh. "Fine. MAY I please go play now? He asked, throwing his hands out for emphasis!
"Yes. Yes you may." Mr. Peabody told him, and that was all Sherman needed to hear. But, just as the little boy was about to bolt for the swingset when father's voice stopped him once more. "First, however..." the genius continued pointedly, "we need to lay down some ground rules."
Sherman groaned, twisting his hands impatiently as he turned back around.
If Peabody had heard Sherman's editorial comment he didn't show it. "Now you are not to leave the boundaries of the playground without my permission."
"Yes Mr. Peabody," the redead intoned obediently.
"And be careful on the jungle gym." The beagle added "That metal has been in the sun for a while and it may be very hot! Perhaps the swings would be a safer choice."
"Yes Mr. Peabody!"
"Now if you need me I'll be right by those benches with the other parents alright."
"OKAY Mr. Peabody!" Sherman cried, forgetting his manners in his haste to answer. At the moment his son was doing lovely impersonation of tightly coiled spring, ready to launch any moment.
Peabody had opened his mouth to add something else, but thought better of it. Instead he merely sighed and gave Sherman a small pat on the head. "Good. Now run along and have your fun! Off you go!"
It took approximately .5 seconds for Sherman to reach top speed, making a beeline for the nearby swing set.
The dog couldn't help but grin at his son's antics. Sherman had been nothing but a hyperactive ball of energy since this morning, it was good for the boy to run off some steam. Still, Peabody watched his boy's retreating back cautiously, unable to stop the nervous wagging of his tail.
It was only the second time Mr. Peabody had brought his son to the park, and their previous visit had certainly not ended well. The dog took a breath to calm his nerves as he made his way to the benches. This wouldn't be a disaster like before. After all, he'd worked everything out with the the New York City police department and the head of park regulations, he was just as welcome in the park now as any US citizen. He wouldn't be asked to leave again.
"Little worried eh?"
Peabody turned to see a young, dark-skinned man watching him from one of the benches.
The beagle chuckled good naturedly. "Is it that obvious?" Peabody asked as he approached the man.
But the man just smiled back and shrugged. "Nah. It just reminds me of the first time I took my daughter to the park." He explained casually. "Her name's Mia, she's the one in the sandbox over there..." But he trailed off as he caught sight of a little black-haired girl in a sundress trying to pull a toy truck out if another child's hands. "Oi, Mia! Maging mabait sa na batang lalaki at bigyan siya pabalik sa kanyang laruan!" (be nice to that boy and give him back his toy! that is not how we behave)
Peabody blinked in surprise as the man chastised his daughter in Filipino. Then again, the man did look to be of some sort of Southeast Asian decent.
The little girl turned at the sound of her father's voice. Still holding tight to the truck. "Ngunit Itay!" (But Papa!)
But her father merelyshot her a sterner look. "Walang ngunits batang babae! Ngayon pag-uugali tulad ng na at kami ay nag-iiwan! Intindihin?" (No buts young lady! Anymore behavior like that and we're leaving! Understand?)
"Oo itay!" (Yes Papa!) The girl pouted bit released the toy all the same, allowing the boy who's been pulling on the other end to fall face first in the sand.
Peabody laughed again as he watched the man sigh in exasperation. "Medyo ang isa maagang umunlad ay hindi siya?" (quite the precocious one isn't she?)
His head shot up in surprise at Peabody's words. "Nagsasalita ka Pilipino?" (You speak Filipino?) the man asked, staring at Peabody in amazement.
Peabody couldn't help but smirk. Strange, usually it was the talking dog bit people found harder to believe. "Oo, medyo matatas talaga!" (Yes, quite fluently actually)
"Nagkaroon kong gawin ang ilang mga transaksyon ng negosyo sa Pilipinas at natagpuan ko na makakuha i ang pinakamahusay na reception kapag nagsasalita ng katutubong wika" (I've had to do a few business transactions in the Philippines and I've found i get the best reception when speaking the native language). The beagle explained matter of factly.
The man grinned broadly in response. "Ang iyong kahusayang magsalita nagpapakita! Kayo ay may inflections halos perpektong!" (Your fluency shows! You have the inflections almost perfect!)
"Mr. Peabody right?" He continued, switching effortlessly back to English. "It's an honor to meet you sir! Peabody Industries has been funding our research on artificial organs for years!"
Peabody couldn't help bit grin at such admirable recognition. "The pleasure is all mine Mr..."
"Santos." The man answered quickly, holding out a hand for Peabody to shake. "Dr. Manuela Santos! I work as biomedical equipment specialist at the Mount Senai Medical Center in Manhattan."
Peabody's eyes lit up as he shook Santos' hand. "Ah yes! Now I remember! Well it's wonderful to meet you in person Dr. Santos. So how goes the research?"
Dr. Santos beamed, moving over so Peabody could siton the other side of the bench. "Thanks to your funding our design for a bioartifical heart is well on it's way to becoming a reality." He stated proudly. "We should have a working prototype by next year. We're thinking about using the same procedure that was used in Sweden back in 2011."
"Ah yes!" Peabody exclaimed, happy to be talking with someone so knowledgeable in their field. "Dr. Paolo Macchiarini at the Karolinska Institute preformed that procedure if my memory serves correctly..."
"Exactly!" Santos replied, his hands waved excitedly as he continued. "Only our heart will be much more advanced than that..."
The wind blew hot and humid on Sherman's face as he swung upwards. The little boy enjoyed seeing how high he could go, leaning back and pumping his legs to increase his momentum. "Wah hoo!" he cried as he hurtled towards the sky. Just then, the swing reached it's limit and, for a moment, Sherman was completely weightless. closing his eyes tight, the boy tried to imagine he was an astronaut floating in space. But, just as he did, gravity caught up and he started downwards once more, his messy red hair twisting this way and that as he plummeted back to earth. Sherman laughed as he felt the breeze at his back, the air cooling his sweaty tee shirt.
It was nice to finally be outside. It felt like he'd been cooped up in the penthouse forever. Of course he liked his house. After all, he had a super cool room with loads of toys to play with and books to read. And, if he was really lucky, Sherman would get to go into his father's study, where each artifact and framed picture held a story that Mr. Peabody was all too happy to share. Sherman had spent many a happy afternoon sitting in the floor of his father's study and listening eagerly to the genius as he spun tales of safaris deep in the heart of Africa, meditation with shaolin monks in Nepal, and a daring diplomatic negotiation in Istanbul...
Still, it was nice to be outside, to feel the sun on his skin, to run as fast as he could, to yell as loudly as he wanted without Mr. Peabody telling him to use his "inside voice." And it was fun to see all the funny looking squirrels scampering through the trees and the ducks swimming in the nearby pond. Maybe Mr. Peabody would even buy him a pretzel so he could feed them...
Suddenly the little boy's train of thought was derailed as something black and white flashed out of the corner of His eye. Digging his heels into the dirt, Sherman brought the swing to a completele stop. He turned just in time to see a long tail disappear underneath a nearby bush.
Cocking his head in confusion, Sherman peered into the bush, trying to see what was under there. All he could see, however, was patches of black a white fur. And then he heard it, a low, whimper. It was quiet, barely detectable over the cacophony of the park, big it carried with it the a feeling of pain and distress. Whatever it was, it sounded like it was in trouble.
Jumping from the swing, the curious little boy began to make his way towards the bush, but a single thought stopped him mid-step. Mr. Peabody had told him he couldn't leave the playground.
Sherman took a few steps back, leaning against one of the swingset posts and kicking up a bit of dirt with his shoe. He took a deep breath as he thought. If he disobeyed his father he would be in trouble. Mr. Peabody might not even bring him to the park anymore...
But again came the whimpers. Low and small at first, but gradually rising to a steady whine.
Sherman bit his lip as he deliberated. Well, it's wasn't like the bush was very far away from the playground. He looked up at the nearby benches, watching his father chat happily away with another grown up. Mr. Peabody wasn't even looking his way, he wouldn't notice his son was gone. And it would only be for a few minutes...
Rocking back on his heels nervously, the five year old took one more glance a Mr. Peabody before letting go of the metal post and walking towards the bush.
Now no more than six feet from the thicket, Sherman dropped into a crouch as he peered into the bush. Then he saw them, a pair of mismatched eyes, one blue one brown, staring intently at him. The bramble was thick and it was hard to make out much, but the boy's eyes lit up as he recognized the fearures of a dog. "Hi Mr. Dog!" He called cheerfully, ducking his head so he could get a better look.
This creature didn't look at all like the other dogs he'd seen. It's coat was patched and greasy, it's all it's white spots a dingy yellow. It's tail was all bent and crooked, and the raggedy remains of an ear lingered on the sideof it's head. At the sight of it Sherman drew back for a moment. But he never took his eyes from the animal. More than ever, he wanted to help it. "Are you okay? Do you need any help?"
As he scooted closer the whine grew stronger. Those mismatched eyes glinted with fear as they followed the boy's every move.
But Sherman just drew closer. "Ya don't hafta be 'fraid of me!" He told the animal soothingly. "I just want to help!" He reached out a small hand.
Then he heard it, a low, dangerous rumble eminating from low in the dog's throat. Sherman froze, his hand still outstretched. The growl carried out from under the bush, causing fear to coil around the boy's once curious heart. "Umm... Nice dog?" He uttered nervously. Suddenly he didn't feel so safe anymore. His heart began beating so hard he could feel it in his chest.
The dog bared its yellow teeth, another growl ripping through its throat. It's one remaining ear was pinned to its skull, the muscles underneath its patchy fur were tensed and ready to spring.
The little boy gasped and drew back his hand, watching with wide eyes as the dog rose to it's full size. It was enormous, at least twice as large as him. It came out of the bush like an enraged bear, it's fur bristling as it slowly moved towards him.
He could feel it's hot rancid breath on his face, but still Sherman found himself unable to move. It seemed as though his legs had suddenly turned to jell-o. He couldn't even find enough air to breath, his breaths becoming little more than shallow wheezes. "M-m-mr. Peabody..." He tried, but his plea for help came out as a shaky whisper.
The dog drew closer and closer, spittle flying from it's mouth and onto Sherman's glasses as it let loose another guttural snarl.
It wasn't until the dog was less than a foot away that Sherman finally rediscovered his legs. The boy bolted as fast as he could just as the dog lunged, managing to rip the edge of the white tee shirt.
Legs pounding hard against the grass, Sherman ran for his life. Behind him he could hear the heavy panting as the dog drew closer and closer. There wasn't even time to think where he was going. The five year old's mind was clear of all but one thought: get away!
Sherman chanced a glance backwards, but immediantly wished he hadn't. The massive dog was snapping right at his heels, spit flying from it's jowls as it neared. Crying out in fear, the boy turned his head forward and-
Sherman felt the tree before he saw it. His glasses cracked as he hit the trunk face first, his body practically bouncing off and landing on the dirt in a heap.
Stunned and dazed, the little boy groaned as he clutched his aching head. The world looked blurry and smudged without his glasses on. He tried to fumble for his glasses but a furious bark brought Sherman crashing back to reality. He squinted, seeing a huge black blob coming closer.
Letting out a fearful whimper the disoriented, near-blind boy crawled as fast as he could, but his heart sank as he felt a solid wall of tree trunk in front of him. He was trapped.
Wheezing hard, Sherman pinned himself as close to the tree trunk as he could get, his hands scrapping against the rough bark. Tears poured from wide, fearful eyes, his whole boy shaking violently as the dog's hot breath brushed against his cheek. Trapped with no where to run, no where to hide, Sherman did the only think he could think to do. He closed his eyes and screamed.
Peabody smelled the fear before he even heard it, the pungent, sharp scent of pheromones suddenly overwhelming his senses. He sat bolt upright, turning his head in the direction of the smell. It was then that he noticed that Sherman was no longer playing on the swings. Cold fear griped Peabody heart. Come to think of it, he couldn't see Sherman anywhere on the playground! Where was his boy? Where was that smell coming from? And why did he have a dreadful feeling that the two were connected?
"Ah... Mr. Peabody?" Dr. Santos had stopped speaking, having realized the genius was no longer listening. "Are you alright sir?" He started at Peabody in concern.
Peabody opened his mouth, ready to excuse himself from the conversation when he was suddenly stopped by the ear-splitting cry that pierced the air. The dog's heart stopped as recognized the voice.
In an instant Peabody was on all fours, bounding as fast as his legs could carry him to sound of the scream. He nose worked furiously, trying to detect his boy's scent in the cacophony of smells.
But he stopped in his tracks when he finally caught sight of Sherman, his heart leaping into his throat. There was his little boy, scrapped, dirty, and crying out with fear as a feral canine bore down on him. The beast had Sherman pinned to a tree, it's jowls raised and ready to bite.
Not it he had anything to say about it.
Mr. Peabody had always prided himself on being a dog with a plan. Whatever the situation or predicament, Peabody never faltered in his logic, never lost his "cool."
But his boy was in danger. In that moment there was no time for thought, no time for logic. There was only action. One lone thought rushed through Peabody's mind as he leapt in front of Sherman: protect.
Sherman frowned in confusion as another growl joined the fray. opening one eye, the boy let in a sharp intake of breath as he saw the small white blob in front of him, the only thing standing between him and the feral dog. "Mr. Peabody...?" He breathed in quiet amazement.
While he'd never been proud of his origins, Peabody acknowledged that there were some benefits to growing up in a shelter. He'd learned very quickly how to scare larger dogs off. The key was to act more intimidating than them.
The beagle's fur stood on end, his teeth bared as he made contact eye contact with his opponent. He allowed a fierce, unfamiliar growl to tear through his throat.
The feral dog drew back slightly, obviously not expecting a challenger. But itmaintained Peabody's gaze, it's mismatched eyes glinting dangerously as it crouched low to the ground. It snarled once more, lunging slightly at Peabody in the hopes of intimidating him.
But Peabody refused to back down. The beagle just snarled louder as he met his opponents challenge with a lunge of his own.
The two danced around each other, neither wanting to make the first move. Peabody never strayed too far from his ward. He was ready to cut the feral mutt if it so much as thought of going for Sherman. He let off a series of warning barks, but still the dog refused to back down.
Having come to his senses, Sherman reached around the trunk of the tree for his glasses as the standoff continued. His hand coming in contact with the bent frames, Sherman grabbed the remains of his glasses and put them to his face. Through the cracked lens he could see his father in front of him. But it didn't look like Mr. Peabody at all. The dog was puffed up to three times his size, his hackled raised and showing his teeth. There was a hard glint in his eyes that Sherman had never seen before...
Peabody's mind raced as he continued to stall his attacker. He had to find someway to stop this before it escalated into a real fight. He may have succeeded in intimidating the dog, but even Peabody acknowledged that there was no way he could best this huge beast in physical combat.
Just then the dog lunged once more but Peabody swerved just in time, leaping quickly over it's back and landing in front of Sherman. He growled once more, trying his best to ward the creature off, but still it kept coming.
That's when he saw it. Peabody broke eye contact for a moment to see the nearby head of a public sprinkler rising up in the grass. Relief flowed through the genius. If his knowledge of the Central Park water supply was correct, this could be his answer. Peabody calculated that he had less than one minute...
Meanwhile the feral dog growled as the strange white beagle darted in front of him once more. Peabody ducked away just in time to avoid the snapping jaws. With each block the he lead the creature farther away from Sherman and closer to the sprinkler, all the while counting down the seconds in his head.
5...
The dog let out a sharp bark as it made for Peabody's throat.
4...
Peabody moved quickly but was a moment too late. He wincing as the jaws closed around his bow tie. The feral dog jerked hard, throwing Peabody hard to the ground.
3...
Dazed but still alert, Peabody could here the blood pounding in his ears he crouched low, positioning himself right in front of the nozzle.
2...
Finally fed up with his evading opponent, the dog leapt at Peabody with a howl of rage...
1!
...and got a powerful blast of water to the snout as the Central Park sprinkler system was activated.
The dog fumbled back in surprise, letting out a sharp whimper as it tried to snort the water out of its nose. Realizing the fight was finished the creature turned tail and scampered. Peabody watched it go with relief, his body shaking from exertion.
"S-sherman!" He finally managed, getting up on his shaky back legs and turning to his son. "Are you all..." But his voice trailed off as he caught sight of Sherman's face. The little boy was still pinned against the tree, tear stains running down his cheeks, his eyes wide with shock.
"Sherman..." Peabody tried cautiously, he took a step forward paw outstretched. It was small, barely detectable, but Peabody still saw it. Sherman had flinched. The genius froze, drawing a sharp intake of breath. Fear the likes of which he'd never known raced through his veins like ice.
The genius didn't even breath as he forced himself to stay completely still, wanting nothing more than to hold his son close bit knowing that Sherman would have to come to him first. Both father and son locked eyes.
A small war seemed to rage behind his son's expressive brown eyes. But then, after what seemed like the longest moment of Peabody's life, Sherman finally closed his eyes and leapt into his father's arms, his fear becoming fresh tears as he shook and sobbed into his father's smudged fur.
Relief flowed through Peabody like oxygen to flame as he threw his paws around his little boy, stroking the tangled read hair in rhythmic strokes. "It's alright Sherman. You're safe now..."
Suddenly Peabody heard a series of gasps and whispers. Senses still oh high alert, the beagle clutched Sherman tightly and turned to see a slew of wide-eyed onlookers. Older women on a nearby bench, a hot dog vender and his customers, a group of joggers. It seemed every eye within a fifty foot radius had been staring at the fight like some bizarre spectacle. Mr. Peabody heart sank further as he eyed a few teenagers whispering to each other, their phones held aloft in front of them. No doubt one of them had captured the whole incident on video. He gave it a day before it ended up on the internet...
Now that the danger had passed, Peabody's mind let loose a wave of crushing embarrassment. The beagle was suddenly all too aware how unkempt he look. His white fur was now a dingy gray, filthy and covered in dirt. His usually neat and pressed bow tie was ripped and crumpled, barely hanging off him by a thread. Even his glasses were scratched and smudged. In short, he looked nothing like a world renowned genius. He looked like a dog.
The sound of someone clearing their throat brought Peabody back to earth. He turned to see Dr. Santos behind him.
"Dr. Santos I..." Peabody began uncertainly. "This isn't... Well what I mean to say is this doesn't..." He felt a brush creeping under his fur as he continued to fumble, all the while holding the still shaking Sherman in his arms.
But the man merely held up a hand, giving Peabody a tentative smile. "It's alright sir. I..." He paused, trying to find the right words. "You don't have to explain yourself to me Mr. Peabody. Your son was in danger. I would've done the same for my little girl." He turned to glare at the gawking onlookers accusingly. A few had the sense to turn away in embarrassment.
The doctor then crouched down to the beagle's level. "I've called a cab for you two if that's alright, it should be right by the parks south entrance." He gave Sherman a sad smile and patted the boy lightly on the arm. "I just thought you wouldn't want to walk home with all you've just been through."
Peabody blinked in surprise, but had the sense to give Santios a grateful smile. "Thank you," he finally managed, his words shaky but sincere. "You're very kind Dr. Santos." He gave the man's hand a respectful shake before taking a deep breath and turning to face the crowd of onlookers. "Now if you'll excuse us, my son and I must be heading home." He lead Sherman through the fray, carrying himself with as much dignity as he could given his disheveled appearance.
Much to Peabody's relief, they reached the cab with little to no interruption. Allowing Sherman to clambering into the car first, Peabody soon followed, giving the driver the Penthouse address in a worn voice. The cab driver merely nodded, not even bothering to look back at the exhausted dog and his shell shocked son. For that, Peabody was grateful. The last thing he needed right now was more people gawking.
The genius let out a weary sigh as he ran a paw down his snout and rested his head against the leather seat. Peabody could just see the headlines now, "Canine Genius Goes Wild! Attacks a Feral Dog in the Park! Details to follow on page 4..."
Sherman kept close to his father as the cab drove off, holding tight to the dog's side. Normally Mr. Peabody would never promote such clingyness in public, but, given the circumstances he permitted it. Secretly, it was relieving to feel his son's heartbeat gradually slow, coming once more to a normal syncopation. Absently, Peabody his paw in soothing circles over the boy's back.
"Once we get home we'll have to get the cleaned up." He finally said, breaking the silence. "I'd imagine a hot bath would do the both of us some good. Wouldn't you agree?"
Sherman merely nodded, whipping his running nose a sniffling loudly.
Silence reigned once more, only the muffled honks and hollers of the city around them could be heard, filtering into the cab. Sherman was still curled into his father's side while Peabody stared thoughtfully out the window. Both of them knew what had just occurred had to be addressed, but neither of them wanted to start. "Sherman why did you wander off like that?" Peabody asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible so as not to frighten the still shaken boy. "I specifically told you to stay within the bondaries of the playground."
Sherman shifted nervously, his arms hugging his small body. "I just wanted to help the dog." He murmured, careful not to meet his father's eyes as he stared intently at his shoes.
Peabody sighed quietly. Of course Sherman would've been drawn to help an animal in distress. His boy had a heart much larger than his common sense. "Sherman that animal was dangerous! That was a feral dog. They're not used to human interaction so when you approached it you triggered it's fight or flight response! You could've been seriously hurt!" He tucked a paw under Sherman's chin, raising the boy's eyes to meet his own. "You must never try to interact with a wild animal!" Do you understand Sherman?
The boy nodded obediently, hiccuping slightly as he wiped more tears from his eyes. "M'sorry Mr. Peabody! I just thought the dog would be nice, like you..."
Peabody felt the air leave his lungs as he listened to Sherman's apology. "Sherman, I'm sure you have noticed by now that I am not..." He paused for a moment, "like most dogs."
But even as the words left his tongue doubt struck Peabody's mind. How different was he from most dogs when he was growling at that feral mutt? How different was he when he was growling and snarling? The behavior he'd shown today was one he'd been trying to escape his whole life and he'd just displayed it on a public stage for all to see. His heart burned with shamed as he thought back on all those gawking faces, all the whispers. Sherman's face as he flinched from his father's touch..."
"...really brave Mr. Peabody!"
Sherman's voice suddenly cut through the storm clouds of his mind. The beagle blinked in surprise, turning to face his son. "What was that Sherman?"
"I was just sayin' how you were really brave an' stuff fighting off the other dog like that Mr. Peabody." Sherman told him tentatively, finally allowing a small smile to come to his face. "He was scary!"
To say Peabody was stunned by his son's praise was an understatement. "Thank you Sherman." He replied, "But you should know that physical violence is by no means commendable. I used it only as a last resort." The genius took a breath as he finally gathered his gumption and spoke the question he's been burning to ask. "You... You didn't think I was scary?" Peabody tried to make the question sound casual, but he couldn't seem hide the trepidation in his voice.
Almost as if sensing the real weight behind Peabody's words, the little boy's eyes scrunched in thought. "The minitues ticked by, making the genius more and more nervouse until Sherman finally shook his head. "No," he said. "Your my dad. You wouldn't hurt me." The words were so matter of fact, so straight foreward, that Sherman might have been saying the sky is blue. He then proceeded to bury his face deeper into Peabody's fur. Exhausted from the crash of adrenaline in his system and the shock of all he'd been through, Sherman was asleep in a few minutes, feeling safe at last in his father's arms.
Peabody stared at his son in silent amazement as he slept, stunned once more by the child's simple but powerful words.
It was truly amazing. It seemed that, even with how much he cared for Sherman, Sherman cared for him so much more. His love was more than mere affection, it was love without reason, love without pride or shame, caution or blame...
Sherman love was unconcerned with being returned, it just was, pure and simple. Mr. Peabody couldn't believe that such a powerful feeling was directed towards him. It felt simultaneously terrifying and reassuring.
Although he was a studier of many things, it wasn't until Peabody had become a father that he'd begun to study matters of the , from what he'd seen, to hold someone's heart is a dangerous honor. Hearts are so very fragile, and there are so many ways to hurt them.
Peabody held Sherman close as he stared out at the city passing by. It was then that he came to a decision of sorts. Whether or not he deserved Sherman's love was irrelevant. Peabody had it all the same. What was important, he decided, was that he do everything in his power to make sure it was cherished.
Well there you have it! I thought it would be interesting to see Peabs do something he hates in order to protect the one he loves most. Also I thought it would show Sherman's complete and unconditional love for his father. Again, I know it's not great, but I hope you enjoyed it. :)
Btw, thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Please know that they are very appreciated!
Warmest Regards,
Katie