Work Text:
“Papa! Papa, look!”
Nihil looked up from his typewriter as he heard his youngest calling out for him. Terzo was standing in the doorway to Nihil’s office. Nihil’s attention was instantly drawn to the four-year-old’s face; Terzo must have snuck into his room, because he was currently wearing a crude imitation of Nihil’s face paint.
All the stress and exhaustion Nihil had been feeling dissipated at the sight of his son’s painted face. He stood from his desk and approached Terzo, kneeling down before him. Terzo watched him expectantly, a proud grin on his face. Nihil mirrored his grin, overcome with a sensation of joy he couldn’t quite explain, not even to himself.
“Do you like it, Papa? Does it look good?” Terzo asked.
Nihil’s smile grew as he answered. “It looks molto buona. Just like mine!”
Terzo nodded enthusiastically. “Primo said I have to make my own design, but I like yours. Can my paint look like yours when I’m Papa one day?”
“Of course it can, piccolino,” Nihil told him. He stood, scooping Terzo up in his arms as he did. He knew that Terzo was starting to be a little too old to be held, but he was small for his age and Nihil couldn’t resist just picking him up and carrying him around. Terzo didn’t seem to mind, if the way he held onto Nihil’s robes while resting his head against Nihil’s shoulder was anything to go by.
Nihil returned to his desk, sitting down in his worn office chair. Terzo was sitting on his lap now, one hand still holding onto his robes. He was staring at Nihil’s typewriter with wide, curious eyes. Nihil chuckled softly at the sight.
“Do you always have to do so much work?” Terzo asked.
“Unfortunately, being Papa does come with some boring responsibilities, yes,” Nihil told him. “But those responsibilities are important; they keep the ministry running and the clergy happy, and that’s the most important thing.”
Terzo nodded as Nihil spoke, hanging on to every word he said. He seemed eager to learn despite only being four years old; the fact both warmed Nihil’s heart and saddened him at the same time. It was nice to see his youngest son so interested in the kind of responsibilities that came with being Papa, but at the same time Nihil hoped that Terzo would allow himself to just be a kid while he could.
“Papa? Are you okay?” Terzo’s voice interrupted Nihil’s train of thought.
“Yes, I am fine,” he replied, giving Terzo a reassuring smile. “Just got lost in my head for a moment.”
Nihil resumed working with Terzo still seated on his lap. It was a bit awkward having to type with one hand while holding on to his son with the other, but he didn’t mind. He loved spending time with Terzo. He had grown distant from Primo and Secondo after often ignoring them in favor of work when they were younger; he wouldn’t make the same mistake with Terzo.
After a while, Terzo began to doze off. Nihil himself felt tired too. He had gotten enough done anyway. He gently shook Terzo awake, smiling slightly at the disgruntled look on his face.
“You need to wash that paint off before you go to sleep,” Nihil told him.
“Why?” Terzo whined. “I’m tired, Papa. I wanna sleep.”
“I know,” Nihil chuckled fondly. “But if you go to sleep with face paint, it will get everywhere. Your pajamas, your pillow, your blanket…they will all have paint on them!”
That seemed to wake Terzo up a bit. “Really?”
Nihil nodded. “I went to sleep with paint on once. When I woke up, it was everywhere. Some of it even got on Seestor. She was not happy about that. Molto turbato.”
The giggle Terzo let out was cut short by a yawn. He rubbed at his eyes, smudging some of the paint as he did. “Tired,” he mumbled, leaning against Nihil.
“Let’s wash that paint off and then you can go to bed, sì?” Nihil told him. Terzo nodded mutely, seemingly on the verge of falling asleep. Nihil got up, still holding Terzo in his arms, and exited his office, making his way toward his room so he could wash Terzo’s paint off.
“Will I be a good Papa?” Terzo suddenly asked. His voice was soft and his words were slurred together; he sounded half asleep.
Nihil slowed his pace a little, caught off guard by the question. “What makes you ask that, piccolino?”
“Dunno,” Terzo mumbled. “I wanna be a good Papa. Like you.”
“You will be,” Nihil assured him. He believed his words. He had no doubt in his mind that Terzo would be a fantastic Papa, probably better than Nihil himself.
As Nihil continued towards his room, he realized that Terzo had fallen asleep in his arms. He decided to let the boy sleep until he reached his room.
It was only a few moments later that Nihil noticed how, even in sleep, one of Terzo’s hands was still clutching onto to Nihil’s robes.
***
A single tear rolled down Nihil’s cheek, landing on the glass coffin at his feet. The memory, once a source of warmth and happiness, now made him feel cold and empty inside. He gazed down at the glass coffin, eyes glued to Terzo’s face. He didn’t even look dead, especially with his eyes closed like that. But Nihil knew he was. Even if the poison he and his brothers had been injected with hadn’t killed him, the embalming process would have. Nihil shuddered at the thought. He had been assured that Terzo and his brothers had been long dead before their bodies were embalmed. But even that didn’t comfort Nihil. He should have done something to prevent this. He should have stood up to Sister Imperator. As much as he loved her, this…this was too much. Why had he gone through with it? Why had he allowed it? Why hadn’t he protected his boys?
Another teardrop joined the first on the glass surface of Terzo’s coffin. Nihil closed his eyes, unable to continue looking at the still body of his youngest son. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” And maybe it was his imagination, but he could have sworn that, as he was walking away, he could hear Terzo’s voice calling out to him.
“Was I a good Papa?”