"What'd he say to you?" AJ asked quietly, standing beside Punk in the kitchen while looking on at the twins tucking into their dinner. She was curious as to what Dylan had said to Punk. She was proud of her son, not any prouder than her daughter, but proud. She knew Heidi was finding it hard, she wasn't used to another person in their home. But she always figured Dylan was missing out on his father, and would jump back by his side in a flash when he came home.
"Not much." Punk said, "He asked me if I was staying forever." Punk folded his arms as AJ sighed..
"I know what you're thinking." She said, looking up at him, watching him look over at Heidi as she reached for her juice box with desire, her eyes sparkling, her hair a little messy now from the hectic day she'd had, but never making her look more beautiful. She was like a little sparkling star in the dark night sky. A star that was afraid of him.
"What's that?" Punk looked down at his wife.
"She will come round, Phil. Just give it some time." AJ smiled to her husband.
"I know. I know... I'm not getting impatient." Punk shook his head. He wasn't impatient. He just wished his daughter would come out of her shell, like Dylan had who even took him by surprise. The infant boy seemed to have taken well to his father, and Punk couldn't have been more happier.
"I'm going to take them for a bath after they finish here. Maybe you could... help put Dylan to bed." She shrugged. She figured why the hell not. Dylan seemed fearless of his father, which was what she wanted, what Punk wanted. She'd sort out Heidi due to obvious reasons, while Punk could tuck Dylan into bed. It felt strange to have this sort of help again with getting the twins ready for bed.
"Are you sure?" Punk asked her.
"Yeah." AJ nodded, "You're his dad." She nudged his side with her elbow playfully, "Remember." She winked to him, strolling forward with a permanent smile whilst clearing the twins dinner plates.
Punk stood by the door, watching the sight with a smile. His family were really here. Yeah, they still felt in bits and unpieced together, but it was nothing he could work at. In a few months, he hoped he could be sitting at the dinner table with the twins, having a flowing conversation with them both, hearing their laughter fill their ears. He'd do the honours of taking them both for a bath, just like he used to when they were babies. And then he'd read them a story together, and shift Heidi into her own bed after she fell asleep with Dylan in his bed to his words from some fiction reading book with lots of pictures. It was what he wished and hoped for. And he knew he was very far away from even seeing that kind of lifestyle, but knowing that it was possible gave him enough satisfaction to carry on.
"This one Aunt Chaleen gave me but mom has never read me it yet." Dylan strolled across his dimply lit bedroom, little batman pyjamas on his body, handing his father a book from the box in his room, climbing into his bed and shuffling down on his back.
Punk smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking around the room, looking down at the book he was being asked to read by his son. It all felt like a magical dream. Sitting her in his sons room, a book waiting to be read in his hand. He'd dreamed about this day for three years.
"How about..." Punk placed the book on Dylan's bedside cabinet where the lamp stood lit up, reflecting little moons and stars against the ceiling. The room felt warm, so inviting. He never wanted to leave. He felt like a father again for the first time in a long time.
"How about I tell you a made up story?" Punk asked Dylan who sat up abruptly with interested.
"You mean... one from your brains?" Dylan asked with excitement as Punk chuckled with a nod.
"Yeah." Punk smiled, "Unless..."
"No." Dylan crossed his legs in a basket and looked at his father, "Tell me, tell me." He piped with excitement.
"Ok, ok." Punk nodded, not being able to hold his smile back. Was he really here? Here at home, being begged by his son to tell him a story. It felt surreal, but so good that Dylan was taking to him in all the right ways. Maybe it was just a son interested in his father, or maybe Dylan was just lead on easily. But either way, he could sense his son felt safe, and calm around him, and that's all he wished for.
For the next half an hour or so, Punk took a trip into the wild side of his brain, digging up all sort of crazy, imaginative stories that he could think of, enjoying the fascinated look on his sons face. His father never told him stories before bed. And for three years, he hadn't told his own children stories before bed either, but... he was here now, and he was here to take care of his family.
Soon enough, through his own, tired eyes, Punk could see that Dylan had fell fast asleep, sat up leaning against the head board of his bed. He reached forward, shuffling him further down on the bed, to make sure his head was on the pillow softly, and he was comfortable, finally throwing the duvet over him.
It was unreal. Just a few short days ago, he was in prison, April was a single parent grieving to have him back, while his children, although being told about him, were blisfully unaware of him.
"Goodnight, son." Punk smiled, pressing a kiss on his sons head, reaching over and switching the night lamp off, tip toeing out of the room and shutting the door over slihgtly. He was so pleased with how today went. It could have went a whole lot worse. He still couldn't believe he just told his son a bedtime story and tucked him into bed, all the while Dylan enjoyed it just as much as he did.
He met AJ out in the hallway, "Sleeping?" She asked him curiously, a tired smile spreading across her face. She was so pleased with how things went today, considering it was the first day with the twins. She was expecting them both to be slightly hesitant, but she was shocked but so proud with her son, who had taken a larger liking to his father than she could ever imagined. Maybe it was years of being stuck in the house with two girls that interested Dylan into a male figure, but either way, the smile on Punks face, the pride he swelled with, she loved to see it. And soon enough, she'd see him swell with pride over Heidi. She just needed a little more time.
"How long do you think we'll take to finish these?" AJ asked him curiously, curled into his solid, protective body whilst downstairs watching TV, catching up on the recorded TV seasons she had recorded. She had deliberately not watched them when they came out after Punk left, so they could spend some quiet, peaceful time together like this, enjoying a simple cuddle and kiss in front of the fire whilst watching the programmes.
Punk still couldn't believe he was really home sometimes. When he got a glimpse of the crackling fire, and he felt AJ's head resting on his chest, and he remembered the twins, his children were fast aslepe upstairs. It was surreal.
"I don't know. But... let's just take our time. I love lying like this with you." He admitted to her as she smiled.
"Me too." She smiled, "Sure beats sitting alone." She said as he agreed.
He guessed when he was in prison, he was constantly thinking about the twins, about them growing without him and them not knowing who he was, he forgot to realise that his beloved, darling April was sat at home every night, alone, nothing but a blanket to hold on to and cry into it. They had both hurt these three years. And sometimes the emotional scarring was worse than the literal scars across his stomach.
AJ thought she'd press down on the touchy subject with him, a tad scared to do so, but she couldn't help it. She didn't just want to know, she wanted to tell him it'd be ok, and that he was such a strong man. But she felt she couldn't say anything when she didn't even know what had gone on with him.
"In prison..." AJ began when a commercial appeared on the TV series they were watching in the DVR. She already felt Punks body stiffen at the word prison, "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked him.
"Not really." Punk said in all honety. Today was the first time in a long time where prison life and his former cell mate didn't cross his mind. Today he had focused so much on making a good impression on his children, and being overwhelmed by his sons confidence, he hadn't had time to think about all the painful memories that he was no where near ready to talk about.
"I know what ever it is... it must be tough for you, but... you'll feel so much better once it's all out." She told him, "I feel like the only thing weighing our relationship down, is all this pain your bottling up." She looked up at him, "Please, baby... tell me." She asked, pressing her hand softly on his arm, "Don't hold it all in."
"I'm not ready, April." He shook his head sternly.
"I know but..."
"Just drop it!" Punk shouted, a little louder than intended, shuffling out of her embrace and standing up as she watched him with sadness. He didn't have to shout. She was just trying to tell him what she knew was the truth. Bottling it all up wasn't going to help him. He had to talk sooner or later.
"I'm... I think I'm going to get an early night. It's been a long day." He admitted to her, feeling ashamed that he had snapped towards her, taking his guilt with him and trailing upstairs, disappointed in himself. He had no right to yell at her for trying to help him.
AJ sat on the couch with a sigh, leaning her head back onto the back of the sofa in defeat. She understood his mental frustration, his pain and sadness, but he didn't need to take out on her. She was the one that was still by his side.
Punk walked down the hall upstairs, peeking into Dylan's room, smiling in as he seen his son lying in such an awkward position in his bed, sort of like the way he slept, but regardless of the position, he looked in peace in his slumber.
He then moved on to the next room where he never got the pleasure of being in tonight, to tell his daughter goodnight. He figured he would do it now. Before he went to bed himself.
He walked into the room quietly and carefully, crouching down at her bedside, brushing her now wavy hair out of her face. So wavy from the pig tails she had in throughout the day. She was such an angel. A little mini goddess. He could never get over how perfect she was. How perfect they both were.
He caressed her soft cheek, taking a little longer than usual to say goodnight, just not believing that she was really his. How could he. Someone so evil. Manage to create such a pretty little flower like princess like her, and such a handsome, charming, funny son like Dylan. He could never unerstand it.
Just as he was finishing off crouching down at her bedside, pressing a kiss on her cheek, he watched her as she began to open her eyes slowly but functionally, managing to realise who was in her room.
And Punk's smile had gone from 100 straight back to 0 when Heidi began screaming and calling for her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks while she shuffled away from him in her bed.
"Hey... hey, I'm not going to hurt you, sweetheart." Punk promised her. But Heidi was adimant. She wanted her mother, so she continued to scream and call out, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Mommy! Mommy!" She yelled over and over again as Punk stood helpless in the room. Was he really that scary?
AJ soon enough ran into the room after hearing her daughter erupt into cries and screams from downstairs, practically falling in the door in the case of something being wrong, only to see Punk standing in the centre of the room with a clueless facial expression.
"What?" AJ shook her head, "What did you do, Phil?" AJ shook her head towards her husband.
"April... I didn't do anything. I was kissing her goodnight, she woke and she just... started screaming." Punk sighed as thankfully, Heidi haad stopped crying and was now just sobbing into her mothers arms.
"Just... go out of the room." AJ asked Punk, sitting on the edge of Heidi's bed, her daughter curled into her, refusing to look up at Punk.
"Is there anything I can..."
"Just go!" AJ pointed to the room door. Perhaps a little part of Punks snapping towards her had bounced right off her and back towards him. Either way, they both seemed to have got to each others throat tonight, and it didn't feel good. Especially for Punk. His daughter had literally just screamed and cried her eyes out at the sight of him in her room, giving her a goodnight kiss. It hurt to watch, so he done what AJ asked and left the room, shutting the door and leaning on the wall beside the bedroom door. Was he really that scary?
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