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Prodigal Son

Summary:

The first phone call between mother and son after ten years. Like the first drops of water after dozens of sunny days in a desert.

Work Text:

"Mom wants to talk to you," Virgil said on the phone. Patton blinked, pausing in his chopping. He lowered the knife and grabbed his phone. Maybe he hadn't heard his little brother right since he had the phone pinned between his ear and shoulder.

"Mom wants to talk to me? But it's- I haven't called her in ten years," Patton protested lightly.

"So? She loves you, and you going quiet suddenly isn't going to make her stop," Virgil huffed, and Patton felt his face heat up.

"Oh. I forgot. Um, sure! I'd love to talk to her!" Patton exclaimed, moving to sit on the nearest surface- the floor. He couldn't bear to continue standing while his legs felt so unsteady. He was glad Thomas was off at school.

"How do you forget- nevermind. Just a warning, Mom's in the hospital. The doctors are trying their best, but... I kind of doubt she'll be leaving, you know?" Virgil muttered, and Patton sucked in a breath.

"Mom's dying?" Patton whispered.

"Close to," Virgil responded. "Hey, Mom, I have someone on the phone for you. No, it's not Logan, he's coming to visit for Thanksgiving soon though."

There was some rustling with the phone, and then Patton teared up as he heard his mother's voice say, "Hello?"

"Hi, Mom," Patton blubbered out, and he heard his mother suck in a breath.

"Patty-cake?" Mom's voice wavered. "Is that really you?"

"It's really me, Mom, I'm here," Patton laughed through big wet tears.

"Oh, baby, are you crying?" Mom asked, and Patton could hear the sobs in her own words.

"I just missed you a lot, Mama, I'm happy crying," Patton reassured.

"Me too, sweetie, me too," Mom agreed. Then Mom laughed, and she said, "Virgey's telling me to take deep breaths and take it easy, he's such a worry wart that one."

"You should take it easy, Mom, you're sick," Patton chastised lightly.

"Well, talking to my baby boy isn't going to make me sicker or healthier, so I'm going to ignore you both. How's my grandbaby? Is he around?" Mom asked, and Patton laughed.

"Thomas is gonna be eleven in April, Mama. He's in school right now," Patton explained. Mom huffed on the other side of the line.

"Well, next time you should call later! I wanna meet my grandson!" Mom scolded. Patton nodded.

"Okay, Mama, I will," Patton agreed.

"Tell me about him, at least," Mom asked, and Patton grinned.

He told his mother all about his precious baby boy, the light of his life. He told her about his intelligence, about his talent, about his big heart. And Mom in turn told him about Virgil, who he could hear faintly protesting in the background. Patton told her about Thomas' worrying diminutive size, and Mom warned him about sudden growth spurts. Patton told her about Thomas' brilliant grades in science, and Mom recommended science camps. Patton told her his concerns for Thomas' friendships, and Mom told him hers about Virgil.

The call ended after two hours when Virgil said that doctors would be performing check ups and may need to do some tests again. Patton had spent the entire call on the kitchen floor, and when he stood up he remembered the dinner he'd been preparing. Thank god he liked to prep the ingredients early, or he wouldn't have had it ready by mealtime. Patton rushed though the ingredients preparation, and tucked them away in sealed containers.

Then off he went to pick up Thomas from school. He sat Thomas down and asked him about his day. Thomas answered rather vaguely, then turned the question back onto him.

"Oh, it wasn't anything too special. I called Virgil and talked to my mom for a bit."

"Grandma's alive, then?" Thomas asked, and Patton's good mood plummeted. Thomas was his baby, that much was true, but he was Sarah's too. She didn't want Patton talking about his family to Thomas, and look where that had gotten them.

Patton pursed his lips. "Thomas, I'm going to tell you about our family."

He described his baby brothers, Logan and Roman, raved about his parents, and Thomas watched with wide eyes the whole time, laughing and gasping and giggling at all the right moments. Patton considered talking about Janus or Remus, but-

No, Thomas was still so young. Patton would explain about those two when he was older.

"So is Uncle Roman in any movies, then?" Thomas asked, and just before Patton could answer the door opened.

"I'm home!" Sarah called, and she sounded exhausted.

"Welcome home, darling! You're just in time for dinner, I made a casserole," Patton exclaimed, still delighted from telling his son about their family.

"Oh good," Sarah sighed, entering the kitchen with a tired smile on her face. "Did you make it with rice? It's heartier that way."

"I did," Patton nodded.

"Good. Thomas, did you have a good day at school?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, we-"

"That's nice. Did you talk to your coach about extra training for soccer before the season starts? You have a lazy kick," Sarah recalled pulling her blonde hair out of her bun. Thomas wilted a bit in his seat.

"No, um. I actually thought maybe I could not do soccer this year?" Thomas asked, and Sarah raised her eyebrows.

"Sweetie, sports look good on your college applications. You've got to start preparing for that now, rather than later," Sarah warned, and Thomas' face paled. He nodded.

"Okay, um. I'll talk to the coach about extra training." Thomas scratched the edge of the table. Sarah groaned.

"Stop that, you'll damage the wood," Sarah said, pulling Thomas' hand away from the counter.

"Sorry, Mom," Thomas said, clenching his fists and looking at his feet. Patton pursed his lips.

"Sarah, he's only in sixth grade. You don't have to push him so hard," Patton piped up.

"If I don't, then he'll end up another sad pushover, in a world designed to cut the legs out from under him," Sarah argued. "Now let's all sit down for dinner, yeah?"

Patton couldn't help but think about Sarah's words the next few days. She hadn't called him a sad pushover, but it certainly felt like she'd meant to. And would she even be wrong? Here Patton was, nearly twelve years after he told himself he'd get a divorce, simply because Sarah was pregnant.

He could remember vividly the night she told him, because it was the very same night he meant to cut off their marriage. But she was pregnant and he couldn't leave a child to stay alone with her. Besides, she wasn't so bad. So he stayed. And now here he was.

A husband, a father... and a wayward son.