all across the hours 10/24
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September 9th 2020, 9.01am
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There's a tug on his clasped hand and a young voice telling him he needs to let go.
Bright blue eyes peer up at him, sparking with excitement and the sort of eagerness that only lends itself to the young.
Kate runs her fingers through the boys hair, brushing his fringe out of his eyes only for it to flop forward almost immediately as his son hops from foot to foot.
She looks calm – a little melancholy, but calm – and he envies her because Rick feels like he's run straight into a wall. He thought he could be cool about this but he's hit so hard with the reality of the moment, with the way it echoes another, lived half a lifetime ago that all hope disappears.
If he thought this was going to be any easier the second time around, he was sorely mistaken.
Rick knows from experience, if he were to look over, his son's kindergarten teacher would be smiling at them sympathetically. He decides it best not to look.
He feels another tug and the small fingers within his grasp begin to slip.
"Not so fast, Sport," he says, tightening his hand around his son's.
"Daddy!" His son literally bounces, the boy's need to barrel forward and discover so strong it can't be contained. In that respect he's just like his mother.
Alexis was shy at first, uncertain where Sam is bubbling with impatience, but it's all so very much the same despite the way it's wrapped differently – it is on his end at least. The excitement. The nerves. The fear. The absolute certainty that everything is going to change.
What happens next? That's awesome too, but it's this part – the part where his son is just his, his and Kate's, before the world can have him – that he's finding so hard to let go of.
But he can't explain that to the young boy, excitement bleeding into Sam's very skin, and so he says instead, "You need to let me savour this moment."
"Why?"
"Today is the day I get my life back."
An identical set of eye rolls meets his proclamation and he has to grin.
"Don't be silly," the boy says. "Mommy and Sarah will keep you company."
His daughter perks up at hearing her name, her head heavy with sleep as it lifts off his shoulder.
"Mommy and Sarah? You know they're going to gang up on me."
Sam makes a face at his sister and Sarah squeals in delight, shooting from zero to sixty in typical fashion.
Kate laughs when their daughter's chubby fist collides with Rick's cheek.
"See? They're doing it already."
Sam frowns. "Sorry, Daddy but you have to be growed up now, I can't stay home and play with you."
Rick nearly laughs at the expression on his son's face – so very much older than his five years – but he doesn't because he could just as easily cry. Starting already.
There's a hand that slips around to settle on his neck, fingers that dance in the hair just above his collar. "Let him go, Rick."
To the his son's delight he does. With a final hug Sam runs off to meet his classmates.
He watches the boy, trying not to linger too long, but Rick's hand feels empty until Kate's slim fingers slip between his.
Kate leads him out. He's grateful when she pretends not to notice the way he's holding Sarah a little closer to his chest as they walk back to the loft.
They walk in silence for a while and it helps lighten his mood, the feel of his wife's hand in his, his youngest daughter's drool soaking his shoulder. He must still look pathetic though because after a block she turns to him and says, "It's only Kindergarten, Rick."
He grunts. "It's the start."
"Of school?"
"Of his future. First it's Kindergarten, then it's high school and girlfriends and college and before you know it he's going to be married and having his own kids."
Kate smiles. "I hope so."
"What?"
"I want him to get to do all those things and more." She looks so damn proud that his heart melts. "I hope we get to be there to watch him."
He doesn't mean to, but he blurts out a, "You're amazing."
Kate laughs, nudging his shoulder as they continue to walk.
Rick knows she doesn't understand how strongly he means it. This day is an echo, the same in so many ways but it's different too vibrant and colourful and hopeful – different in most of the ways that count – because of her.
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a/n: I am so very sorry for the delay in getting this out. Hardware faults (and not being clever enough to create a back up) meant I've had to rewrite parts and real life has been more demanding than I anticipated.
I also want to thank everyone who has taken the time to share their thoughts, your comments have made difficult days far more bearable.