Thought I'd try to get a little Easter fic out today. It ended a little more sad than I wanted it to, but I'm pretty happy with it. Enjoy!
I have rated this T because of very light mentions of child abuse. You all know Deeks' story, so if it bothers you, please back on up.
...
An Easter Meeting
7 year old Martin Deeks, clad in jean cargo pants and a brown and orange button up, little dress shoes on his feet, hair (cut into a crew cut, courtesy of his mother, much to Marty's dismay) styled neatly into a little mohawk, ran around the field, collecting as many easter eggs as he could find, dumping them one by one into his yellow plastic bucket.
He found a red one tucked under the bench in the dugout of the church's baseball diamond, and a blue one hiding in a patch of grass behind third base. Marty glanced down at his bucket, smiling. He had six whole eggs! One more and he would have the same amount as his age!
He ran forward, heading towards outfield, where there weren't as many kids. He trotted past a little girl, no more than three years old, wearing a navy jumper dotted with white dots. Her brown hair was done up in pigtails, bangs swept to the side and pinned in place with orange barrettes. She wore a short sleeved flowered jacket and little blue combat boots, white ankle socks poking out the top. One arm clutched a small tan teddy bear to her side, the other hand gripped a small purple plastic bucket. It only contained two eggs, knocking against each other as she toddled forward.
Marty watched in horror as a bigger boy, maybe 8 or 9, pushed the little girl backwards, knocking her on her backside. She didn't cry, instead tried to stand back up and fend off the much bigger child. She jumped back to her feet, little fists raised as the bigger boy snatched the two eggs from her bucket, pushed her down again, and ran away.
Marty made a mad dash to her, tossing his bucket aside and kneeling down in front of her.
"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, Easter egg hunt forgotten. He reached out to wipe at a smudge of dirt on her face. The little girl scowled, but nodded.
"I was gonna get 'im," she said fiercely. "But he runned away, he's jus' a big scawedy-cat."
"Yeah," Marty said with a nod. "He's just a coward," he agreed. The little girl's brow furrowed.
"Whatsat mean?"
"What, coward?"
She nodded once.
"It's the grown-up word for scaredy-cat," Marty said with a grin. The little girl smiled.
"I wike dat word," she decided with an impish smile. Marty smiled.
"I'm Marty," he said as he held out a hand to pull the little girl to her feet. "And I'm seven."
"I'm Kensi," the little girl introduced, "and I'm free." She held up three fingers to emphasize her statement.
"Cool." Marty reached for his forgotten bucket, grabbing three of his six eggs and placing them in Kensi's. Her brown eyes lit up like Christmas lights. "You can have some of mine," Marty said with a smile.
"Weawwy?"
Marty smiled bigger and nodded. "Should we go look for some more?" He held out his hand for her to take, which she did, and off they went. Most of the children had headed back into the church, only a few of them remained, supervised by a few Sunday school teachers. They didn't find any more, but they had fun running through the grass together.
After a few moments, Kensi stopped and stared up at him, eyes landing on the fading bruise beneath his eye.
"What happened to you?" she asked, pointing a finger at the bruise. Marty flushed. He had hoped his mama had covered up that bruise with the concealer she had tried to put on it that morning, but evidently it hadn't worked.
"Um, my daddy hit me," he said quietly, looking down at his toes. Kensi's eyes widened and her jaw fell open.
"You daddy hit you?" she parroted, not quite believing him. Sure, her daddy gave her a few swats every now and then when she didn't behave, but those were to her bum and never ever hard enough to leave marks.
Marty nodded guiltily. "He's not very nice to me. But I'd rather he hit me than my mama," the seven-year-old said bravely, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Kensi nodded solemnly, trying to imagine someone's daddy hitting their mommy.
"I gotta show you somefing," Kensi said, tugging on his hand. She sat down in the grass, and Marty sat down beside her. He glanced down at her as she pulled a tiny object from the front pocket of her jumper. It was a tiny pocket knife, maybe an inch and a quarter in length, white paneled, trimmed in artificial gold. "My daddy gave this to me," she began. "He said it was fo' proteshun. Only to use it in 'mergencies. I'm gonna gif it to you." She pressed the tiny knife into his hand. Marty smiled.
"Thanks, Kensi, but I can't take this. This is special. But I'll always remember it, okay?" Marty passed the knife back to her, squeezing her hand.
"Awe you sho?" she asked, brow furrowed.
"I'm sure," Marty said with a nod. "I'll be okay, alright?"
"Otay."
"You know what, when I grow up, I'm gonna be a superhero, and you can be my sidekick, and we'll fly around saving everybody from the bad guys like my dad," Marty said with a grin.
"Woah," Kensi said in awe, eyes wide. "Weawwy?"
"Yep," Marty said with a nod and a grin. Kensi smiled, leaned over, and placed an innocent kiss on his lips. Marty sat in disbelief for a moment before smiling at her again, then reaching into his bucket, opening an egg and unwrapping the chocolate inside. The two slowly ate their pieces of melting chocolate until their faces and fingers were sticky.
"Kensi!" a voice called, and a pretty woman in a yellow dress walked towards them. A man in a military uniform followed her, holding her hand.
"Time to go, baby girl!" he called. Kensi got up and ran towards them. The military man, evidently her father, swooped her up on his hip and kissed her forehead. Marty felt tears well in his eyes as he watched them wistfully, wishing his family could be that happy. Kensi seemed to be telling her parents all about her new friend Marty while fiddling with the dog tags hanging around her father's neck.
"Martin!" he heard a voice call, and his gaze snapped over to see his parents walking towards him. He got up and quickly ran to them, reaching his mother first, who grasped his hand and placed the other on his back. His father reached over and grasped the back of his neck roughly, pushing him in front of them, cuffing the back of his head. Marty flinched, and skirted over beside his mother, scared. "We're going home now, boy," Gordon said gruffly. Marty nodded silently, throwing a fleeting glance over his shoulder at Kensi and her departing family. Kensi was half-asleep in her father's arms, chin resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Her mother was holding her little bear and her easter bucket in one hand, the other resting around her husband's waist.
Marty sighed sadly at the happy family. "Bye, Kensi," he murmured.