So I realized I had a couple of chapters where we get to see Natara's relationship with her kids, but I didn't have any of Mal with his kids. So this was born, and honestly I love it.
Of all the things he's seen in the eight years he's been around, one thing sticks out to him the most: adults don't think kids notice anything.
Sometimes they talk about important things right in front of him as if he weren't there and listening to their every word. Sometimes they sit him in front of the television, put on cartoons, and then argue in hushed tones. They steal kisses in his peripheral vision. They act as if he doesn't hear them, or doesn't understand. They underestimate him, and if there's one thing that Blaise Kenneth Williams-Fallon hates more than anything, it's being underestimated.
He knows. Something big is going on, and the adults are trying to pretend there isn't. He knows, because Aunt Neha showed up to pick him and Evan up from school instead of the babysitter. He knows, because he's been put in charge of his five-year-old brother. He knows, because he and Evan have watched two movies so far, and no one's come to turn the TV off. He knows, because when he looks down the hall into the kitchen, Aunt Neha is always checking her phone with a weird, pinched expression. And he knows, because the little hand on the clock is on 7, and Mom and Dad are always home by the time it's on 5.
He also knows that if he asks, Aunt Neha will act like everything is fine. She'll tell him to turn the TV off, wash his hands for dinner, get ready for bed. And all the while she'll act like it's totally normal. So he doesn't ask. He might only be eight, but he's not stupid. And he will not stand for being treated like he's stupid.
Instead, he plays along. He turns the TV off himself and makes sure Evan washes his hands. He asks Aunt Neha what they're having for dinner and pretends not to notice when she's surprised by the time. He holds his nose and eats every single vegetable on his plate so he can brag about it whenever his mom and dad get home. He gets himself changed into pajamas ten minutes before normal bedtime.
Maybe Mom was traveling again. And maybe Dad was just working extra late. That's what he tells Evan when he asks why they're not there to kiss them good night.
"But it's okay," he says. "They'll be here soon." His brother accepts it and falls asleep within minutes.
Blaise lays awake in his bed for ages, though. He's got an awful rolling sensation in his stomach that he can't shake. He tries to combat it by nuzzling his face into his soft baby blanket, but it only works for a little while. He can hear Aunt Neha on the phone downstairs, though he can't make out distinct words.
He closes his eyes and tries to force himself to fall asleep. When that doesn't work, he gets out of bed and walks around his room, his baby blanket trailing behind him. It only serves to make him more restless. He walks a bit quicker, skimming his fingers along the walls as he goes. Then he lifts himself up on his toes and walks around like that until his legs burn and he has to walk normally again.
He paces and paces and paces, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly, until he sees two lights moving quickly across his walls. When he runs to his window, his dad's car is in the driveway. Downstairs, he hears the front door open.
His door is one of the quietest in the house- it never, ever squeaks. So when he eases it open and tip-toes to the top of the stairs, neither his dad or Aunt Neha hear him.
"-overnight just to be safe," he hears his dad saying. "I can't thank you enough for watching the boys."
"Well, Blaise was a big help tonight," Aunt Neha says. "I'm just glad she's alright."
"Me too." His dad sighs. Blaise creeps down a few stairs, skipping the one he knows creaks loudly, and peeks around the banister. His dad has his back turned to him, but he can see him leaning against the table with his head bowed. Aunt Neha has a hand on his back.
"She's going to be alright," Aunt Neha says, rubbing small circles.
"I know," he dad says, straightening up. "I know. I just feel like I'm finally letting go of a breath I've been holding all afternoon."
"Understandable," Aunt Neha says. "I should get going, though. Steve's gotta be worried sick, and I should let him know everyone's okay."
"Thank you again." His dad pulls Aunt Neha into a tight hug for a second. "Visiting hours start at 10 am, by the way. I'm gonna bring the boys around 10:30. Or whenever they're ready."
"Sounds good. I'll definitely go see her, probably as soon as they allow me up. Night Mal."
By some miracle, Aunt Neha doesn't see him on the stairs as she leaves, so he sits down on the stair and watches his dad for a little while.
Blaise's hands wring together as he sits there. He's long since worked out that they were talking about Mom, but he hasn't figured out what happened yet. He knows his mom works for the FBI and that she tracks down dangerous people. He knows both of his parents have dangerous jobs. But they've always done their best to keep their jobs separate from him and his brother, and he's never had to see any of it up close and personal.
"Blaise?" He looks up at the sound of his name. His dad's spotted him on the stairs and is looking at him with a weird expression.
"Evan's asleep," he says softly.
"You should be asleep too, bud. It's really late," his dad says. Instead of walking him up to his room, though, his dad sits on the couch and beckons him over. He doesn't need to be told twice; he practically flies to the couch and curls up against his dad's side. He knows he's getting too old and too big to do this comfortably anymore, but in that moment he doesn't care.
"Where's Mom?" he asks, looking up at his dad. He sighs again.
"Something happened while she was at work today," he says slowly. "But before I tell you, I want you to know she's okay. You don't have to worry."
"Okay," he whispers, nodding his head so Dad knows he actually understands.
"Mom was in charge of someone very important today," he says, "a witness who could put a very dangerous criminal away in jail forever. Mom was escorting that important witness somewhere safe today, but the criminal found out." His dad stops and glances down at him, and Blaise makes sure his face is set and not showing how concerned he actually is.
"What happened to them?" he asks.
"Well, the criminal sent someone who works for him to find the witness," his dad continues, holding him a little tighter. "And when that person found their car, he decided to try to hurt the witness." His dad stops again, and Blaise realizes he trembling a little bit.
"And?" he prompts anyway.
"And mom was sitting in the back seat with the witness," he says. "They both were hurt pretty badly. But I promise you, she's okay."
"How do you know?" he asks. He curls his hand around his dad's shirt and stares up at him.
"They rushed them to the hospital immediately after," he says. "I was there all afternoon to hear how she was. And the doctors told me she's going to be just fine. They just wanted to keep her in the hospital for a few days to let her heal a bit more."
"Oh," he breathes. "Okay."
"Oh, bud." His dad picks him up and settles him on his lap, something they've stopped doing for a long time now because Blaise complained it was embarrassing and he was too big. Now, though, he winds his arms around his dad's neck.
"Can we see her?" he asks.
"Of course," his dad says, one of his hands resting against his back. "We can go see her first thing in the morning. Mom will be so happy to see you guys."
"Can we call her right now so we can say good night and that we love her?" His dad rubs small circles on his back and, despite himself, his eyes begin to droop.
"It's late, buddy. Mom's gotta be asleep by now, and we should let her rest," his dad says. "I promise you, though, she knows you love her."
"Alright," he mumbles.
"Let's get you to bed," he murmurs. "It's late." He feels his dad pick him up as he stands, but his eyes are already half closed so he doesn't fight it.
By the time Mal lays his son in his bed, he's already out cold. He doesn't stir as he picks up the discarded baby blanket and places it on the bed with him, or when he quietly closes the blinds so no outside light will disturb him.
For a moment he stands there, watching Blaise sleep. He greatly resembles Natara, having inherited her eyes, her hair, her determination, and her strength. Both of their sons are living, breathing reminders of how far they've come, and how much they have to look forward to. And today could have changed all of that.
He recalls everything the doctor told him, all of Natara's injuries and the lengths they went to in order to save her life. It wasn't anything she couldn't walk away from, for which he was grateful. But he hadn't been able to keep his mind from wandering to what might have happened if they couldn't save her. He doesn't know what he would have told the boys. And he's glad he didn't have to find out.
As he leans down to kiss his eldest son's forehead, he sends up a silent thanks that their future wasn't cut short today.