A/N: Super fluffy fluff inspired by a PM exchange with densekohai. Patty hasn't made much of an appearance yet, but that's going to change in the next two chapters. This one is light and silly, but tries to explain Patty's and Lord Death's unique perspectives on the world. Next chapter is also Patty-driven but will be much more serious. Thank you so very much for reading - individual responses are at the end of the chapter.
Even God needs a night off sometimes. Lord Death shut down all but five of his senses and heaved a sigh of relief as the pressure of policing the world went away. To paraphrase Wordsworth, he thought, the world really was too much with him. Once in a while a guy needed a break from seven billion needy humans, and he probably ought to take one more often.
It was a cool, rainy evening; perfect for relaxing in his favorite armchair, with Dickens and a snifter of brandy for company. The house was quiet, and Death luxuriated in the silence for a moment before opening 'A Tale of Two Cities'.
Then he heard the sniffle.
He glanced around the room, didn't see anything and was about to return to his book when he heard it again. Definitely a sniffle. Someone was in the room with him and that person either had a cold or was crying. In his house, he could be pretty sure it was the latter. He probably knew who it was, too.
"Kid?"
There was no answer and he refused to fire his soul perception up. It would only lure him back to work, and it occasionally amused him to experience world as humans did. Not something he'd want a steady diet of, but it was interesting in small doses. Careful listening led him to one of the overstuffed sofas at the far end of the living room. He switched on the lamp beside it, knelt on the plush black seat cushion and peered over the sofa's back. Patty had managed to squeeze herself between it and the wall. Her knees were scrunched up to her chest and her face was resting on top of them, covered by her tousled blonde hair. A crumpled paper lay on the floor at her feet.
"Heya Patty. What'cha you doing down there?"
Patty jumped and looked up with startled, wet eyes.
"Sitting." she replied sullenly, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Death waited for more information, but none came.
"Are you hiding?" Perhaps he was interrupting a game of hide and seek?
"No."
"Are you stuck?" maybe a game of hide and seek had gone horribly wrong and she'd been pinned there for hours. Who knew?
"No. I'm just sad."
That was a multiple-word sentence, at least. He seemed to be making progress.
"Do you want to be sad out here with me?"
"No."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Maaaaybe."
Lord Death though that over for a minute, then shrugged and pulled the sofa out just far enough to sit behind it with her. She was so shocked she stopped crying.
"Wow," she sniffled, "I didn't think grownups did stuff like this."
"You said you wanted to talk, and you said you didn't want to come out, so I thought I'd come in. Besides, I've never been back here."
"Me either."
"Well, now that we're both here, would you like to tell me what's bothering you?"
Patty pursed her lips and considered his request. She wasn't quite sure she trusted this; In her experience grownups either caused your crying or they didn't care about it one way or the other. They sure didn't get down on the floor with you and talk in nice voices. Then again, Kid's dad was different from just about any grownup she'd ever met. Maybe it was safe to confide in him. If nothing else, he could probably tell her if she was right. She took a wobbly breath and blurted,
"I'm stupid."
Lord Death frowned.
"Who told you that?"
Patty shrugged.
"Well, whoever said it wasn't being very nice. Who was it? Kid? Liz? Your tutor?" Lord Death clenched 'A Tale of Two Cities' until his knuckles turned white. The psych evaluations he'd had done when Liz and Patty arrived concluded that the youngest Thompson sister had some developmental issues; not surprising given the life she'd led.* Lord Death had sighed inwardly when he saw her PSC and DP-3 scores and realized he now had two socio-emotionally impaired children living under his roof.
"No. Nobody needed to say it, I just know." misery flooded through Patty and her eyes filled again, "I'm supposed to have this page full of math problems done by tomorrow and I can't do them! Why do I have to go to school anyway?"
She burst into fresh tears while Lord Death looked on helplessly. He had no idea what to do with own son most of the time, let alone a little girl he didn't know very well and who reveled in violent behavior. What on earth would Marie do in this situation? What would Sophie have done before she...well, when she was capable of sympathy?
"Uh, would you, um, like a hug?" It really was unbecoming for Death to be so unsure of himself, but there you had it.
"Uh-huh!" she threw herself against him and he patted her awkwardly. After she'd cried herself into the snuffly hiccup stage, he sat her up and looked gravely at her.
"You're not stupid, Patty."
"Yes I am! I-"
"You've had different experiences than a lot of kids your age. You haven't gone to school as much as some of them, but you know a lot of things that they don't."
"Like what?"
Lord Death wracked his brain trying to come up with something better than "shoot up a convenience store" or "kick someone's ass really well".
"You know how to take care of yourself and the people you care about." he said finally, "You have street smarts, and a lot of people don't have that."
He took out his handkerchief and carefully wiped her eyes.
"But I need regular smarts!" she told him, "Liz and Kid are way ahead of me."
"Kid has been going to school since he was very, very young. Liz has gone to school more than you have, so her tutor us working on some harder stuff with her. I hired Mr. Martin to help you catch up and he'll keep working with you until you do."
"Mr. Martin is a jackass. I hate that rat fucker!" Patty said defiantly, giving Lord Death a look that dared him to challenge her. She was upset and looking for a fight. He decided not to give her one.
"Beat him at his own game. Learn the math, get a good grade on it and show him you're not stupid. Don't let the rat fuckers get you down." Lord Death made a mental note to give poor Mr. Martin a raise.
Patty cried, "You said rat fucker!" and went into a fit of stomach-clutching hysterics. When she calmed herself, she handed him the crumpled paper and a pink mechanical pencil with bunnies on it.
"Can you help me with it?"
He gave the page a quick scan. It was pretty basic stuff; he thought he could handle it.
"Sure I will," he told her, "but we have to go sit down at the table where there's some light."
"Okey-dokey!" all of Patty's good humor was restored, "But can we go back behind the couch later? We could put a blanket over it and make a fort. I've seen on TV about making forts but I've never done it."
Lord Death patted her head, "It'll be a first for both of us."
He stood up, and then helped Patty to her feet. She eyed the book he'd tucked under his arm.
"That's a big book. Are you going to read the whole thing?"
"That's the plan."
"What's it about?"
"Personal sacrifice, redemption and the French Revolution."
"What's the French Revolution?"
"The people of France overthrew the King and set up a new way of running their country. There was a long fight, and a lot of people got their heads cut off."
"A lot of heads got cut off? That sounds so awesome! Could you read it to me?"
The child's bloodthirstiness was unsettling, but that was no reason to deny her exposure to good literature. If decapitation set her on the road to reading, so be it.
"Sure, why not?"
An hour later, with twenty-six math problems successfully completed, Lord Death found himself sitting on a pillow behind the couch with a blanket over his head and Patty leaning on his arm. She had a little flashlight and pointed it at the open book in his hands.
"Okay, start!"
Lord Death cleared his throat, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."
"And was it?" Patty interrupted, "Was it the best and the worst at the same time?" He gave her a sad sort of smile and she wondered what it meant. His arm tightened around her.
"Yes it was, Patty. For me it was."
"Did you get to cut off some of the heads?" she asked excitedly.
"Uh, no. That was the worst of times part. But I met Kid's mama then so it also made it the best."
"Kid's got a mother? Where is she now? How come I've never met her?"
"Well, she, uh-"
"Dad?" Kid's face appeared at the edge of the makeshift tent with shock and disapproval written all over it, "What are you doing back here?"
"Reading 'A Tale of Two Cities' in a blanket fort, of course. You want to come in?"
There was a twinkle in his father's eye that Kid hadn't seen in a very long while. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on the receiving end of such a look, nor had his father taken a night off in recent memory. A whole evening off and he was spending it on the floor behind a sofa. With Patty. What a horrible, undignified combination.
"No, I don't. I've already read it. Twice. And don't talk about Maman to her." Kid pressed his lips together until nothing remained but an angry-looking line.
"Aw, com'on Kid. It'll be more fun if you're here." Patty laughed and held out her hands to him.
"It will?" the idea that he might make anything more fun felt pretty foreign to Kid.
"And we won't talk about your mom if it makes you feel bad." Patty promised.
"It's almost eight o clock," Kid scratched his head nervously, "I always go to bed at eight o' clock."
"Com'on, Kiddo, it's only seven-fifteen. Live a little," Lord Death tried to keep a jovial tone even though Kid was doing his best to kill it, "I'll tell you what. I'll give you my watch. You hold it and keep an eye on the time, and we'll quit at seven forty-five so you and Patty to get to bed by eight." he patted the floorboards beside him encouragingly.
"I suppose I could," Kid looked uncertain, as if the whole scheme was horribly inappropriate and they'd all come to a bad end. He gingerly inched his way under the blanket and took his father's heavy gold pocket watch. Patty tipped the flashlight so the clock face was illuminated along with the book. Kid kept his eyes fastened on it, watching intently as it softly ticked away the too-short minutes filled with peace and his father's voice.
Responses!
densekohai - Thank you for the beautiful, encouraging review and for giving me the plot bunny that turned into this chapter! I feel that I stretched the characterizations a bit here, so hopefully it still works!
DeathEzio- I adore the big sis/little brother dynamic between Kid and Liz. Now I'm trying to get Patty into the mix a bit more. Totally been enjoying our PM convo - thanks so much!
Wordfiend - Yes, of course that's where I got the idea! Only we would have a RL that's too weird to make up!
*STORY NOTE* If you completed a PSC inventory for Patty she'd score somewhere around a 36. The upper-limit indicator for socio-emotional impairment in 12-16 year olds is a 28. Please note that that doesn't make her developmentally delayed - just that genetics, experience or a combination keep her from responding to some situations in the expected manner. Kid's OCD and other anxiety disorders can also fall under this category. As always, if you have more information about this than I do, I'd love your help!