Nightmares

It was hot, unbearably so. Varian's lab, which he had only just started using and didn't yet have all the supplies he would have liked, was somehow in flames. He'd soaked his hand in methane filled soap bubbles and struck a match- a fireball was supposed to appear in his hand but nothing would actually burn, it was perfectly safe- but something had gone wrong and now a fire raged in his room.

"Dad, help me." Varian begged.

Quirin looked at him coldly. "Why would I help you? You're the worst son, ever." he proclaimed.

Varian cried out in panic, but his father did nothing. Then he awoke.

Back in his bed, Varian moaned. Quirin heard the sound, lit a candle, and rushed in. "Varian, what's wrong?" he asked.

"You said I was a bad son." Varian whimpered, hiding under the covers.

Quirin placed the candle on the nightstand. "Varian, you know that's just not true. You're my son and I love you." he assured him.

Deep down Varian had always known or at least hoped that was the case, but it was nice to hear it said aloud.

Quirin put a hand on Varian's forehead. "You feel a little warm. I want you to take it easy tomorrow." he instructed.

"Okay, Dad." Varian replied but he still looked tense.

Quirin hugged his son, and began humming tunelessly. It was supposed to be Brahm's lullaby but Quirin could never quite remember how it went. He wished his wife Vivienne was still alive, her singing had always calmed Varian as a baby.

Varian relaxed visibly. "...Dad?" he asked.

"What is it?" said Quirin.

"I don't wanna go back to bed yet. Will you read to me?" he pleaded.

Varian really should be sleeping, but it was hard to say 'no' to that face, with his big blue eyes, dotting of freckles, and teeth that stuck out when he pouted.

"Alright, but just one story." Quirin allowed. He grabbed one of Varian's books at random. "If (n = 2k + 1), then an + bn = (a + b)(an-1 – an-2b +an-3b2…- bn-2a + bn-1)"

"Then n is an odd number." Varian murmured sleepily.

"Let's try something else." Quirin picked up a different book. "And so Flynn Rider brandished his sword as the evil Earl of Camembert came at him..."

The End

Quirin is best dad. He knows nothing of algebra other than it's a kind of math his 9 year old son likes to solve. This is my last request currently, but you can ask for more Quirin and Varian.