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Thalassa greeted Jove at the door when he arrived in the late evening, knit shawl around her shoulder and hair loose in soft curls down her back. “Hello, love,” she said, after giving him a short kiss. He smiled in return, pulling off his hat and tossing it onto the hallway stand.
“Evening,” he replied, setting his guitar case in its usual corner. “How’s our son?”
At the mention of Apollo, Thalassa’s expression fell. “Still sick,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest, “he’s been crabby all day.”
As if to prove her point, a wail started up from the bedroom. Thalassa startled, turning her head to the noise, and Jove followed suit.
“I thought for sure he’d sleep a little longer…” she whispered to herself. Jove set a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“C’mon,” he said, “he’s probably scared to be alone right now.”
Apollo’s cries grew louder, and Thalassa set her shoulders.
“Right.”
The two of them made their way to the bedroom, Thalassa quickly moving to the crib set up by the bed and peering over. Her son had his little face scrunched up, cheeks red as he cried, nose and upper lip covered in mucus. She tutted, reaching down to pick him up. “Oh, my little one…” she said, voice as soothing as she could manage. Apollo didn’t stop crying as she lifted him into her arms, but he did stop wriggling as much, instead curling up into his mother’s chest.
His cries were thick, once or twice stopping as he tried to breathe, only to struggle with his blocked nose and cause himself more distress. He was so young, he wouldn’t have a clue what was going on, everything in the world was probably so big and new and scary. Thalassa could only hold him close, hoping it would calm him down.
“Do you want me to get anything?” Jove asked quietly, when Apollo’s tears finally stopped. He was still crying, little mouth open wide to show all his gums, and Thalassa ducked her head to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Some tissues, please,” she glanced over her shoulder at Jove, before turning back to her son and hushing him, “mommy’s here,” she promised, patting his back as she slowly rocked side to side. “Shhh, it’s okay, little one,” she whispered, “it’s okay…”
“Careful, ‘Lassa,” Jove murmured, “you’re getting snot all over your shirt.”
“Hence the tissues, Jo.”
He chuckled lowly, hands up in a surrender before he turned to fetch the tissue box from the dresser. He leant forwards with one to wipe at Apollo’s nose, only for him to shy away, forgetting to continue crying in his attempt to escape. “Woah, that’s a lot,” Jove said, finally catching Apollo, making sure to use gentle movements to clean him up, “kid’s gonna break a record or something.”
Thalassa gave a little huff. “Really?”
He gave her a lopsided grin as he tossed the tissue in the bin, before holding his arms out. “Here,” he offered, “I’ll hold him for a bit.”
Thalassa hesitated, but passed over Apollo. “Support his head…”
“I’ve held our son before,” he reminded her, setting him on his shoulder.
Apollo whined a little, tiny fists grasping at Jove’s shirt, and he hummed. “I’ve got you, your dad’s got you,”
Thalassa shifted closer to the both of her boys, reaching up to smooth back Apollo’s little flyaway hairs (they always seemed to stick straight up). Apollo let out another cry, burying his face into Jove’s shoulder. “He must have a headache from the stuffiness, the poor thing,” she whispered, hearing another snuffle.
Jove pat Apollo’s back gently, starting to bounce in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Apollo’s whines quietened down, and he lifted his head a little, big brown eyes fixed onto Thalassa, hand making its way towards his mouth. “Hello, Apollo,” she cooed, smoothing down his hair again, “oh— we have to wipe your nose again,” she grabbed another tissue, taking care to swipe it over his hand to clean up the snot that had dribbled down onto it as he tried to shove his whole hand into his mouth. “Don’t eat that,” she chided, “it’s not healthy.”
Apollo made a noise around his hand, eyes still fixed on Thalassa. She hummed, before pulling a bracelet off one wrist and holding it out to him, something she found herself doing increasingly often.
“Is this what you want?” she asked, and Apollo immediately grabbed hold. For the first time since he had gotten sick, a hint of a smile played on his face, and he started to chew on the metal instead. Thalassa let out a little laugh. “A Gramarye through and through.”
Someday, she was going to have to hand it over to him permanently, with how attached he was to the heirloom.
Jove made an offended noise, and Thalassa laughed again, leaning over Apollo to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, he’s got your Justice chords,” she said.
“Hoping it doesn’t keep us up all night again.”
Thalassa dropped another kiss onto Apollo’s head as she pulled back, his little flyaway hairs tickling her nose. Apollo continued to mouth at the bracelet, head resting on his father’s shoulder and eyes beginning to droop. “He’s tired himself out,” Thalassa said sympathetically, and Apollo shifted to try and bury himself further.
Jove hummed a few notes quietly, and the rumble in his chest seemed to calm down Apollo more, so he started to actually sing, voice soft and warm. Thalassa looped her arm around Jove, leaning in as she began to sing along too. It was one of the songs that Jove had written for them, a simple tune that had become a lullaby. Their two voices harmonised, Apollo trying his best to fight off sleep once more, eyelids slowly closing over soft browns.
Apollo fell asleep clutching the bracelet, cradled in his parents arms to the sound of a melody like a summer storm.