Chapter Text
[Welcome home, Leo.]
“Leo,” Carl said with a cautious nod.
The AP700 scanned the young man, whose shoulders hunched up even more at the greeting. There were traces of Red Ice on his jacket, but none on his skin and hair.
“Hi - Dad.” He made a face. “You already got yourself a new toy, huh? Figures.”
“You know I need help around here. By the way, Elijah’s not happy with what you did to Markus. He’s one of a kind, you know. A work of art.”
“Yeah, great seeing you too.” He shifted uncomfortably.
Carl sighed, shaking his head. “Will you be staying for a while?”
“Uh - I guess. I thought I would. That okay with you?” He narrowed his eyes and tried to square his shoulders, but it was a pathetic attempt.
“That would be nice. Micah, would you prepare the guest room for Leo?”
“Of course, Carl.” They hurried upstairs to complete their task and get away from the suffocating tension. The guest room was clean of course, but Micah opened a window to let in some fresh air, remade the bed, and gave everything a quick dusting. Flowers would be a nice touch, if they’d had more time. They could make a swan out of a towel, but they weren’t sure that would be appropriate for the return of an estranged adult son. Protocols on this situation were fuzzy, at best.
Dragging footsteps alerted them to Leo’s approach, and they hurried to close the window.
“What, you trying to freeze me out?” Leo muttered, throwing his bag on a chair as he slouched into the room.
“Carl prefers the house to be quite warm, and we don’t use this room often, so I thought I’d air it out a bit for you.” They smiled nervously. “My name is Micah. It’s nice to finally meet you, Leo.”
“Why?” Leo scoffed. “If you’ve heard of me at all, you know it won’t be nice.” He smirked humorlessly. “I’m the family disappointment.”
“I - I’m sure that’s not true.”
“…You’re right, ‘family’s’ a fucking joke.”
Awkward silence stretched between them.
“I… I’ll prepare dinner soon. What sounds good? Do you have any allergies or strong preferences I should know about?”
“No.” Leo flopped down on the bed. “I don’t care. Don’t pretend you do. Get out.”
“Of course,” Micah murmured, backing out of the room. “I’m sorry. Please get some rest. Dinner will be at five.” They closed the door softly behind them and hurried back downstairs.
Dinner was Chicken Florentine, which both men picked at while they avoided looking at each other. Leo retired early, claiming he was tired. He certainly looked it.
“I haven’t been a good father to him,” Carl said quietly, shaking his head. “I haven’t been a father at all. And at this point, I’m not sure how to start.”
“You… were a good father to Markus. And… and to… me.”
Carl smiled faintly. “It was easier with you two. No baggage attached.”
“Our beginnings in life were different. We always knew you cared for us, even when we didn’t know what that meant.”
“I suppose he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. And he hasn’t asked for money yet. He said he would get help, start turning his life around. Do - can you tell if he’s used Red Ice lately?”
“Not in a while. My scans aren’t designed for that, but I don’t detect any on his person or in his system. Just a bit on his coat, and it seems old.”
“Well, that’s something.” Carl smiled, and Micah did too.
After putting Carl to bed, Micah saw light under Leo’s door. He walked over and knocked softly.
“What?”
“I - would you like a hot drink? Or something more to eat?”
“You’re not my android, you don’t have to do that shit.”
“I just thought it might help…”
There was a series of soft thumps, and Leo threw the door open, glaring at the AP700. “Help?”
“I know this is very awkward for you, it’s awkward for Carl as well - and for me, very much - but you might feel better with something warm in you. Studies have found that drinking hot tea, or most other hot beverages, releases the same endorphins that receiving a hug would.”
Leo glared at them. “Did my dad send you?”
“No, Carl just went to bed. I was hoping your first night here could be more comfortable.”
“Ain’t my first night, I’ve stayed here before,” Leo growled.
“Oh - no, I meant… the first of this stay. Sleeping in an unfamiliar environment, even if you’ve been there before, can be difficult.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“I… could make you hot chocolate with cinnamon, if you want.”
Leo stiffened. “You, uh…”
“Carl mentioned that you liked it when you were younger.”
“He… did?” Leo swallowed thickly.
“He said it made you smile,” Micah murmured.
The young man was quiet for a long time, rubbing his fingers, one hand, then the other.
“…Yeah. Sure,” he finally mumbled. “Not gettin’ any sleep up here anyway.”
The two headed downstairs, and Micah took out a small saucepan and began heating up some milk on the stove. Leo walked around restlessly, then sat at the table, then paced back and forth before finally hauling himself up to sit on the counter.
“So you’re deviant, you get to be free, and you still hang around here taking care of some old man?”
“Carl’s been kind to me.” They smiled softly. “I like it here. I like taking care of him.”
Leo’s face seemed to shrivel up a bit. “You could do anything, though. Anywhere.”
Micah looked up. “I know.”
“He’s not always such a nice guy. Not to everybody. He left my mom, wouldn’t even see me until I was sixteen. Even then, saw me once, and that was gonna be it.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Yeah, I keep comin’ back to get his money.”
“You haven’t asked for money since arriving.”
“Don’t have to anymore, that’s all he expects me to do.”
Micah stirred the milk, which was beginning to steam. “Do you live nearby?”
“Uh. Not too near.”
“So it makes sense that you don’t visit very often. But he’s happy to see you.”
“Why the fuck would he be happy to see me!? He’s never been happy to see me!” He hopped down to the floor, where he was a few inches shorter than Micah. “He’s been disappointed in me since he heard about me, and it only got worse when he met me.”
“I don’t know about that. But he keeps welcoming you back. He has the security system set to let you in. He has me keep the guest room ready. He makes sure there’s more food in the house than he’ll eat.”
“That’s - shut the fuck up, you don’t know. You don’t know shit about him, or about me.”
Micah winced a little, beginning to stir cocoa powder, powdered sugar, and chocolate shavings into the milk. “I haven’t known Carl long. And I know you even less. But I know what I see. I think he’s worried about you. And afraid for you. Maybe it’s hard to say that after all that happened.”
“Yeah, well… I don’t know what he expects. He’s not the only one who’s got it hard.”
“Have you told him how long you’ve been clean?” The AP700 sprinkled in some cinnamon, watching the swirling liquid.
“He doesn’t care.”
“He does. That much, I know.”
Leo stared at the pot, mesmerized by the motion of the liquid. “…It needs more cinnamon.”
Micah obediently added more until Leo nodded that it was enough. When they were satisfied with the color and consistency, they poured the liquid into a large mug and handed it to Leo, who took it and breathed in the steam. When he exhaled, he looked more relaxed and very tired. His stomach rumbled.
“Would you like me to heat up your dinner?”
Leo made a face. “…Sure, fuck, why not,” he mumbled, and slumped over the counter, curled around the mug. Micah put some of the Chicken Florentine on a plate and put it in the oven to heat up, keeping a close eye on it so it didn’t dry out.
When the food was warm enough, Leo devoured all of it, and then another plate. By that time the hot chocolate was cool enough to drink, and he leaned against the counter sipping it, watching Micah clean up.
“…He treat you okay?”
Micah turned off the water and dried their hands. “He treats me very well.”
“Yeah, well… enjoy it,” Leo mumbled halfheartedly. “Must be nice.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Micah stepped closer. They felt a physical connection would be helpful, but weren’t sure how Leo would react. “I think… I think he’ll treat you well, too. If you both… talk to each other and try to understand. And work on it. He does care for you, though. He wants you to be okay.”
“Wanting’s not enough.”
“No. It’s a start, though.”
“Listen, I know where this is going, I’ve tried that shit before. It doesn’t work. I’m not that stupid, I know when to quit. Besides, I’ve done plenty of shit he won’t let slide.”
“Maybe you can both get past that, though. And… and try again.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Micah frowned, and reached out to touch Leo’s arm, just lightly. “If I - if he says things to you that are cruel, or unfair, I’ll tell him. Would - would that make it easier for you? If I try to help?”
Leo frowned. “Why the fuck would you help?”
“Because I want to. That’s - that’s all, I just want to. I want you to be happy, both of you. You’re not, like this.”
Leo’s eyes strayed to Micah’s hand. “It’s… it’s not…”
“I - I’ll tell you, too, though. Because you - you both care about each other, and you should say that, it makes things worse if you don’t. I want you to feel better. To not have to hurt.”
Leo’s mug was empty and cool, and Micah gently took it from his hands and went to wash it out.
“I can’t keep doing this.”
A human wouldn’t have been able to hear the low voice over the faucet. Micah turned it off and set the mug to dry, then dried their hands on the kitchen towel.
“You don’t have to do it alone.” They turned and smiled at him, saw the tremble in his lips, the wetness of his eyes. Impulsively, they stepped forward and put an arm around his shoulders. “You’re not alone.”
It only took a split second for him to sag into their side. He didn’t speak, but Micah monitored his increased heart rate and respiratory rate. They stood with him until he was left with only exhaustion, but maybe a lighter exhaustion than it had been before. Then they walked him upstairs and tucked him in under the stack of warm blankets to keep out the cold.