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Step to the side roughly half a foot to avoid the squeaky floorboard. It was a shame, how old buildings required such maintenance- and for what? She was pretty sure she replaced the board next to it not even a week and a half ago. Her hand shifted slightly to accommodate the weight of the boy, nestled in the crook of her left arm with his legs wrapped around her middle and chin on her shoulder. He turned his head to the side slightly and Donella felt her breath hitch as his hair brushed against her neck. Her jaw tightened but she just shifted the sleeping kid to a more distant position- if you could even call it that since he was practically draped on her- and pushed open the door to his room with her free hand.
Standing in the entrance, it was a small space but rooms in the Iron Kingdom weren’t exactly lavish if you weren’t in the upper class. It had the basics, a trunk and closet for his things, a small desk if he ever needed it, and of course a bed and bedside table. Her green eyes looked to the side at the kid, mouth slightly agape and definitely drooling on her shoulder. His little voice echoed in her ear, clear as day and so full of joy it was nearly nausea inducing.
“This is all mine? And I get a bed too?!”
Without thinking she held his tiny body against hers just a little tighter. Her right hand rested on the back of his head as she walked over to the side of his bed, yes he got a bed too, and bent over to set him down under the covers. Carefully, Don made sure she took his glasses from his little hand and set them neatly on the table. She gently pet the back of his head with her thumb as she did so, setting him down first before removing her right hand from underneath his head. Hugo turned his cheek and almost nuzzled into her palm. Donella froze, blinking for a moment as she fought the instinct to yank her hand away.
A girl with red hair groaned softly as she woke her, leaning into her touch and even grabbing onto her arm to get her to lay down for a few minutes. She’d tell her that they were busy and eventually pull her up, later regretting not taking that time to just be with her.
Her hand was shaking as she allowed her thumb to brush over the boy’s cheek, sitting down at the edge of the bed as she ran her touch over his little eyebrow scar. Poor thing. You didn’t have scars unless you’ve seen some things. Her free hand reached across her body and touched her own before shaking her head. Donella pulled her hand away but only to grab a rag, clean, from her pocket and wipe at the drool that was on his face. Gross.
She never particularly liked babies, thinking back to the only one she’s ever really been around. All she remembered was grubby little hands and disgusting little spit covered mouths and constant yanking, so much yanking she swore Varian pulled out most of her hair. But this one- well she still didn’t like him. Correction, couldn’t like him. If she liked him, she’d let him grow closer. If he grew closer, she’d care for the boy more than she already did now. Which would only make his eventual departure harder. His inevitable departure when his sights landed on something she could never give him. But just this once, a secret kept between herself and the lamp on his bedside table- she guessed he wasn’t so bad.
Staring at the sleeping kid, she remembered his face a little more grimy, a little paler and definitely thinner on the day she met him. His little eyes lit up when she handed him his own plate of food that first night, so much so that Donella found herself subconsciously piling his dish a little higher than her own every meal and then letting him eat from her plate when he was still hungry.
He looked peaceful, and that was always what startled her most about Hugo. No matter what- all the horrors he saw on the street, he learned to sleep peacefully. He had a good heart, hopeful, it was a shame such a world wanted to snuff that out. She wanted to protect him, to shelter him even, but that kind of safe haven would always shatter. It wasn’t meant to last.
So she could do the next best thing, harden him, teach him to protect himself. Make it so that he’d never have to feel the way she did, that horrible, all consuming, world falling at your feet feeling.
Her body started to lean forward but she stopped herself, standing up awkwardly and dusting off the front of her pants as a way to fidget. She quickly took off his boots and decided that undressing him and putting an oversized button-down on was too much of a disturbance. Donella hadn't had the time to get him some pajamas yet so he was making do with her shirts.
“Good night, kid.”
Her voice was soft as she turned off the lights and left the room, stepping around that pesky floorboard once again. It was like a little dance they did, she and the wood plank, until she found the time to fix it. Maybe she could teach Hugo, have him help a little.
Returning to the lab, she first put his little stool back to the side of the wall. He liked to watch her build sometimes and mess with little scrap parts. When he fell asleep she just carried him to bed, not entirely realizing that kids should have bedtimes. Hey, she never had one- but then again she didn’t exactly have parents that were around to enforce a bedtime. Either way, that was her normal and he seemed to be doing alright. Demanitus knows they were both doing their best.
The hours ticked by, later and later into the night, so late that the fights and scuffles from outside their little safe haven of a lab had died down. Cyrus had long since gone home, as he should. The no bedtimes policy also carried over to her apparently.
Eventually she rose from where she was hunched over and quickly cleaned up her space. She grinned softly as she organized little jars of specimens, something Hugo loved helping her with throughout the day. Though it was strange that he didn’t quite seem to understand what they were, she guessed reading would come to him later. He liked the sound they made when they clinked together and she liked the sound of his laughter when he tapped out a tune.
Half a foot to the side, she stepped into her room and let out a quiet sigh as she shut her door, leaning back against it. Her eyes flicked to the bookshelf, journals piled upon journals of research penned by herself and her former partner.
“You said you wanted a son.”
She mumbled softly, speaking to the books like they could somehow bring her words miles and dimensions away.
“But I know you were scared, to have to choose family or career. You wanted both, I-”
Donella pressed her lips together and straightened, sitting down at her desk and using the tiny mirror she put up to take down her hair. Her eyes stopped as the edge of pink skin caught in the reflection. The purpose of a small mirror was to prevent just that, to stop them from being seen. The cuts that also cut her off from prestigious teaching jobs, the high end parts of town, labeled her as a murderer though she guessed she was one.
“I guess I can’t have either, but I’m stupid enough to try. Just like you were.”
With that and two elastics sitting on the table, she heard the pitter patter of tiny footsteps and the squeak of that floorboard, all with an undertone of quiet distressed wailing. That first week was the hardest, with him waking up screaming in the dead of night. It was getting better but, as someone who suffered from night terrors too, she knew it would take a while. There was a soft scratching at her door and usually she would have told him to stand on his toes and turn the handle, making him rely on himself. This time she got up and quickly opened it for him. A little streak of blonde hair rushed into her room and grabbed onto her leg. He clutched it with his little arms so tightly as Donella dragged her foot along the floor, back so she could close the door.
He was sniffling and making a noise like a quiet whimper, a little calmer than he was in the hall. Tears were still welling up in his eyes and he squinted up at her slightly. She moved slowly, giving him the chance to push her away if he wanted.
Donella leaned down, gently putting her hands underneath his with the curve of her thumb and forefinger fitting against his armpit, and pulled. He let out a little shriek and grabbed onto her leg tighter.
“No no no!”
Hugo cried out and let out a little shaky gasp for air, his legs even wrapping around her shin. Donella stopped and moved her hands away, kneeling down so that she could at least be eye level with him. She didn’t know what to say- that seemed to be the first issue they worked through. Hugo wasn’t speaking well because she didn’t speak, it took a few days and some encouragement before he felt comfortable rambling on and on to her, but now she found that if she just gave him time he’d talk eventually. So she knelt down, did her best to soften her eyes, and Donella waited.
“Please don’t make me go! Don’t- don’t make me go.”
He eventually sputtered out, hyperventilating as he did so and somehow sobbing harder. Donella blinked before gently putting her hand on the back of his head, petting him with her thumb.
“I’m not going to make you go anywhere. I just want to pick you up, Hugh. That’s all.”
He looked at her suspiciously and Donella did her best to not feel offended. She never turned him away when he was in distress but clearly someone did.
“It’s better for my back that way too, and my joints.”
Reasoning with him seemed to work most of the time. He was bright, she liked that about him. Eventually his cries calmed as Hugo processed what she was saying, slowly letting go and lifting his arms up for her. She smiled, a real smile which wasn’t exactly common, and picked him up the way she had intended to before. He filled out more of her grip than he did when they first met, and for some reason that made her heart swell a little. Holding him, he wrapped his arms around her neck and Donella felt her breath hitch again. She closed her eyes and allowed this, sitting down with him in her lap to finish with her hair.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She asked softly and glanced down at the boy who had rested his head against her collarbone. His knees pressed into her hips as he didn’t respond.
“We can talk when you’re ready.”
Donella eventually replied and shifted so that she could see her braid in the mirror. Hugo listened to her heartbeat and she did her best to keep it low. She hoped the steady sound would serve to ground him.
A flash of red hair in the lower portion of her vision, Ulla had come back from a disappointing presentation, they were backstage and she hugged her. Hugged Donella so tightly she thought she’d break a rib- and Donella had stood there and held her and slowed her heartbeat, hoping that it would help to calm Ulla’s as well.
When she finished and got up again Hugo’s nervous grip returned. He had settled down against her and Don even thought he was asleep at one point. But his hands grabbed onto the back of her shirt and bunched it, his legs squeezed her side.
“Don’t leave!”
He cried out so clearly that Donella knew he had been thinking about saying that for a long time. She sat down on her bed and felt Hugo relax once more.
“I’m not, I’m right here.”
The real problem would be him leaving. She didn’t want to give him the option to hurt her when he did, but at this rate she was letting him in and doing so fast.
“Can I slee-” He huffed for a moment before starting again, “Can I stay with you tonight?”
He’d ask this every time, and every time Donella would nod and lay down with him resting on top of her, his head on her chest. Even when she was fully clothed, as in this case. Pajamas were overrated anyway. She stared at the ceiling, sensing some words hanging in the air. Maybe she grew adept to that feeling since she was usually the one holding phrases back.
“Go on.”
She mumbled and looked down at him, her lips brushing the top of his head. Donella quickly turned her head to the side. There was a stretch of silence before she felt Hugo take in a big gulp of air.
“Why did they-” His voice was shaky as he spoke, hesitant, “Why didn’t they want me?”
Hugo’s words broke and fell off towards the end of his question. Donella always encouraged him to ask questions, usually she had the answer but not this time. She sucked in a breath and looked at him.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry I don’t.”
Her voice matched his softness as she lifted him slightly so that she could make eye contact. His eyes were welling up with tears once again and she felt a deep burning rage in her gut towards whoever decided to toss this sweet kid to the sewer rats.
“I don’t know who they are or why. Maybe they couldn’t afford to raise a child, maybe they were assholes, maybe- maybe there’s no reason and they just left.”
Wow, Don, real inspiring. But it was the truth. A fat tear landed on her neck. Sometimes people just left, and there was no reason for it. And that was the truth that hurt the most.
“But I know who you are. And you, kid, you’re bright and funny and sweet. And you have the biggest smile and you ask the most interesting questions, so knowing that I can infer-” vocabulary word right there from their talks, “that they were suckers, because they missed out on you.”
Crap, was insulting his birth parents the right way to go? He looked at her and tilted his head to the side slightly. The way she spoke was fast and rushed, unsure of herself, and while yes Donella typically spoke very quickly her tone was usually confident. She was at a loss here and he knew it.
“You’re weird.”
He eventually giggled out, giggled- and he was smiling too. Donella let out a strained and airy laugh, more in confusion than anything because- did she just do that?
“Do you really think they missed out?”
To that Donella just scoffed and rolled her eyes light heartedly.
“Is Cobalt element number 27?”
Hugo paused for a moment to think before hesitantly nodding. They started working through the periodic table recently.
“Then yes, I do think that because they did.”
His smile widened and Donella put him down, wrapping one arm around him and using the other when she leaned over and shut off the light. She settled back down with Hugo’s weight pressing down on her, a good kind of crushing feeling.
Like sitting underneath the oak tree, barely awake, feeling Ulla’s presence slowly turn to dead weight on her chest as she fell asleep. Donella braided her hair. She smelled like lemongrass and the honeysuckle they would find and drink the nectar from one sweet bead at a time.
Hugo shifted on top of her and reached up, one grubby hand resting next to her head on her pillow while the other cupped her cheek. Her scarred cheek- Could he feel it? The way her chest stopped rising or skipped slightly as she felt his touch? The skin almost burned with magical energy, probably just in her head, as she blinked away visions of crazed eyes and powerful spells.
Her hand gently pet the back of his head, lulling him into a state of sleep as Donella hummed softly. It was a lullaby she heard Ulla singing to Varian when he was young, she found it soothing and apparently Hugo did too as she felt his body slowly growing heavier. His hand grew limp and slid from her cheek and into her hair. It was strange, how she almost missed the touch. How her scars felt cold when his hand was gone, strange.
His tiny snores made her grin as she looked down, pressing her lips to the top of his head and kissing him softly. It was a little peck, as if to say what she couldn’t quite seem to. She’d be there, even when he didn’t want her to be. And in a way, it was also saying the phrase he had cried out earlier. Don’t leave.
There were those three unspoken words again, just like with Ulla. And just like then, she didn’t dare speak them out loud. If she did, then she’d actually start to feel them.
‘I love you’