Fiona looked up from the book she was reading. It was quiet. Fergus flipped the page after her sudden pause, watching her expectantly from where he was huddled against her. He was tucked under her arm, as close to her as possible, as he always was. Felicia was with her father, as she always was, following him around like a shadow as he did his chores around the swamp. Two children and her husband accounted for, there was still one left.

"Where's your brother?" she spoke airily to the child next to her.

He shrugged, leaning his head against her, "He doesn't want to read."

Fiona nodded. She knew Farkle was the least fond of snuggling and story time outside of their bedtime routine, but usually she would hear his alternate activities. The quiet was too suspicious.

"Farkle?"

There was silence. Only Fergus tapping her drew her attention. She looked back down to the book, fighting in her mind whether to leave him be wherever he was or check on him. Untangling herself from her present child, she gave in to the anxiety that danced in her mind. Perhaps this was the miracle she'd been waiting for where her children were finally old enough to occupy their own time in a way that didn't involve screeching, or being ankle deep in something they shouldn't be.

"Farkle, what are you-" she paused as she entered her children's shared bedroom, it was seemingly empty. Confused, she turned, marching into her own bedroom, the curtain already drawn back, untouched and empty. Biting her lip, her eyes swept the house. She didn't hear the door to their house open, she doubted his abilities to be that quiet. She leaned down, peering under their bed, there were only the trunks of clothing and items stuffed under there as usual, no signs of a mischievous child. Returning to the children's bedroom, she crouched to check under their bed-

"There you are!"

He was curled up next to the wall at the head of their bed, back to her.

"What are you doing there?" she smiled, anticipating him to roll over and proudly show her whatever had been occupying his restless mind. Though he didn't move. She heard a sniff, her brow immediately creasing, "What's wrong, honey?"

He ignored her.

"Farkle…"

"What?" he was impatient.

"Mom, look at this!" Fergus chirped from the doorway, the book in his hands.

"Not right now, go and read by yourself," she waved him away. He only approached, leaning to look under the bed. "Fergus go," she raised her voice at him. Shocked, he trailed away, back onto his father's armchair. Fiona swung the door closed.

It was odd that this particular child of hers was isolating himself so quietly on purpose, the anxiety didn't leave her mind. She knew better than to dismiss it as childish sulking. She laid down on the floor at the edge of the bed, facing him.

"Hey, what's going on?" she spoke softly at him.

The child only sighed, unmoving.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me," she spoke playfully at him, resting her head on her folded arm.

She watched him tense up, roughly wipe his face with his sleeve and roll onto his back. He glanced at her then looked away. She gently smiled at him, despite the distress and confusion his own troubled expression gave her. She reached out her arm, her fingers only just able to brush his shoulder. He froze up and shifted slightly away from her. His brow crossed again as he looked back to her.

"I didn't want to read," he spoke simply, "I didn't want to, but Fergus did."

She blinked at him, feeling the apprehension at this new sense of sibling rivalry.

"Felicia wanted to go with dad and she did," he continued, growing more agitated with each word, "I wanted to play with you outside but you wanted to read with Fergus."

The child rolled back over, facing the wall. Fiona wordlessly watched him, the guilt washing over her. Having three children naturally meant that when they all wanted to do something different, one of them had to miss out or go second. Not that her and her husband had a system for who that one was. Farkle had been loud and insistent, full of energy, she didn't particularly want to have to chase them around outside. Her answer to him was no, several times. She had hoped that reading would have calmed him some, make him want something different, perhaps something more sensible. Something less happy, she now realised.

"They get to do everything they want and I have to be by myself," the child mumbled.

Though quiet and unintentional, her son's words hit her - the recollection of his face when she had rejected him only worsening the blow. She almost felt herself go numb. A memory she had always regarded as beautiful lingered on her mind, back when he was a tiny baby promising him that he'd never be lonely, making the same promise to his siblings. A promise so incredibly important to her… a promise she seemingly failed to keep.

Fiona considered him for a second, realising he must have been under the bed for a while - much longer than she'd ever want him to be. The mother suddenly decided she much preferred the loud, obnoxious yelling and mischief, it was all signs of happiness. Quiet was sad and lonely, being locked in a room from sunset to sunrise, every evening alone.

"Hey," she caught his attention, voice low, "I'm sorry, sweetie. That wasn't very good of me, huh?"

His drooped ear perked up a little, he rolled onto his back. She offered her still extended arm to him.

He only eyed her gesture suspiciously, pouting at her, "I don't want to read," he mumbled at her.

"We won't," she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Really?" he was sceptical.

"Yes," she confirmed, "Now let me get you out of there," she tapped her hand against the ground, bringing his attention back to her offer. "Hold on."

He took her hand with both of his and she dragged him towards her, his frown breaking into a smile. He even gave her a laugh as she rolled away from the bed, pulling him on top of her. She sat up, holding him in her arms, kissing his head. "There."

Farkle shrugged her away, exaggeratedly cringing at her affection despite the lingering of a smile on his face. He sat against the bed, opposite her. She stroked his hair, brushing it out of his face. The smile on her own face faltered.

There was so much he wasn't old enough to understand. How thrilled she was to find her children would always have each other, the anxiety that followed about one of them being left out. The relief when that one tended to differ based on the day or the situation. But of course – she took his hand – just because he shrugged away her affection, and at times her attention, didn't mean he didn't need it no matter if the sun was up or down.

"You know," she began slowly, "when each of you want something different, we can't do everything, you all have to take turns." His expression turned back into the frown he had before, brow creasing, his hand limp in hers. She lightly squeezed it, "But that also means that we have to make sure those turns are fair, right?"

He met her gaze again, remaining silent.

"You didn't want to read, but Fergus wasn't opposed to being outside. I was wrong, I'm sorry honey."

He nodded at her. His forgiveness granted.

She caressed his cheek, gazing at him. "We can go outside, you can tell your brother."

That slight smile appeared again, he began to stand before she caught him, stopping his movement. She leant closer to him, "I have one condition…" she smirked, he looked at her suspiciously, "I get a hug first."

He tried to hide the smile that grew on his lips, "Mom, I don't like hugs."

"Hey, I don't care how much of a little monster you are, I do," she held her arms out.

He relented, letting her pull him in, he buried his face into her shoulder. She held him tightly. It didn't matter what inconveniences she or the world faced, as long as her children were happy.

. . .

I think I've mentioned before how Farkle is the child who has the least focus in the films. A long time ago I actually counted and he's the least interacted with, spoken to and even mentioned. As rawshark and I discovered, the Donkey Christmas carol thing desperately tries to make up for this, but it's too late, DVD extra, the damage is done.

#justice4farkle