Chapter Text
Sparrow Oak was a good father.
Or he tried to be, at least.
Rebecca had always assured him that his estranged relationship with his son was natural. That as their kids got older, it was guaranteed their bond would grow to be much more strained. That was how teenagers were, after all.
While he knew his wife’s words held good intentions, they didn’t help to scare him any less. He had noticed the way his talks with Normal fell to fewer and fewer, his son more often than not busy with something at school. Even when he was home, he’d be busy practicing cheer routines or victory dances… Sparrow was glad he had ways to express himself. Was he glad with what those ways were?
He chose not to answer.
He could accept many, many things. Even if he couldn’t understand them.
That didn’t mean that he’d worry less for Normal. It was quite obvious his son didn’t live up to his name, Teeny the Teen being a very clear example of that. Normal loved school and school spirit—Something that Sparrow had tried really hard to get. And yet, his son’s special interest had left him at a loss. He loved that Normal had something he loved, but a part of him couldn’t help but wish that that something was more… normal.
With a sigh, he pressed the start button on the dish washer. At least household chores were easy to understand.
The door opening pulled him from his sulking, his head turning to face whoever was coming in.
“Oh, Normal! Hey, hey bud…” He walked towards his son, pausing for a moment to note the mascot head he was still wearing. “Oh, okay… Ah... Everything okay, kiddo?”
“Wha—” Normal closed the door, turning to face his father (or so Sparrow assumed, seeing as the mascots head was now facing him). “Uh—Yeah dad… Just thought I’d keep the costume on for a bit longer, y'know… Mascot stuff…”
Sparrow nodded along, despite not at all understanding. If his son wanted to come home as Teeny the Teen, he could come home as Teeny the Teen. Sparrow could accept it.
“Right… Well, how was your um—” He froze, taking a moment to list all of the possible extracurricular activities his son could have just come home from.
“Model UN?”
“Yes! Yes, that, how was that? El Salvador still on top?”
“Ecuador, dad.”
“Oh, right, right…” He mentally berated himself for his slip up. “And so how um, how is that?”
“It—It’s good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah,” Normal continued, tugging at the straps of his backpack.
It took him a moment to realize that his son was done speaking, his smile getting more and more strained as the awkward interaction continued. Dammit, Sparrow, this your son, it shouldn’t be this awkward… “That’s great, Norm!” He did his best to put his full enthusiasm into it. “Really… Great…” His hand scratched his chin as he glanced away in thought. He clapped his hands together as a light bulb went off in his head. “What if I stop by some time? See my wonderful baby boy in action?”
Normal stopped rocking. “No, no that’s okay, dad…”
“Whaaat? You’re not embarrassed by your old man, are you?” He shook Normal’s arm lightly, his smile on his face more real. This was what fathers and sons did. This was good, he was being a good dad.
“No,” Normal quickly refuted, letting go of the straps to wave the thought away. “No, dad, I um… I quit.”
“Oh.” He let his hand fall from Normal’s shoulder.
“It just—Um—There’s so much else I have to do because of cheer and Teeny and don’t even get me started on the yearbook club….” His hands flew through the air as he spoke, quickly rambling through his clubs and sports and events as Sparrow felt his own hands wringing together. He hoped the smile on his face didn’t falter. “There was just a lot of uh—Conflicts. With my schedule! With my schedule… And so it’s probably for the best…”
He nodded, taking a moment to register everything that flew from his son’s mouth. “Conflicts, yeah. Okay.” Mulling over his words he added, “You do what’s best for you, okay bud? Don’t stress yourself out over all of this.”
“I—I know dad. Really, I think me leaving was for the best… And—And there’s always next year!”
“Exactly!” Sparrow pulled him into a quick hug, ignoring the way he had to uncomfortably crane his neck to make up for the space the mascot head took. “You know, Norm—” He stepped back, keeping his hands on his son’s shoulders. “—you can always talk to me about anything that bothers you, yeah?”
There was silence before the Teeny head nodded. “I know.” Normal gave him one more hug before heading upstairs. “Got a lot of homework and stuff so…”
“Yes! Yes, you go do that. Nice talking to you…”
“Yep, great chat.”
Both sides ignored the awkwardness that prevailed through the silence in favor of walking away.
Sparrow sighed as he entered the kitchen in solitude once more, taking a nearby rag to wipe down the sink. It hadn’t missed him, the way Normal’s responses were quick, to the point in a way that was nothing like him. Often he’d come home from a club ready to talk his ear off about it. He’d go on about the allies he’d made in Model UN, or how the 2018 San Deamus yearbook was in his top ten favorites; anything that centered around the school he loved so much.
Normal didn’t just think things were “good”.
He always thought they were good, and then some.
And while the idea that something else was plaguing his son’s mind had been calling to him throughout the entire conversation, the most he had been able to do was let him know he was willing to listen.
“Great fucking move, Sparrow. Really trying to work on that father-son relationship,” he grumbled, his scrubbing on the sink growing more intense with each word. Talking to himself in such a way was something he was almost certain he had picked up from his brother, offhand grumbles typically used to express his dissatisfaction with their dad or even himself when they were growing up. It had now become one of his only sources of conversation, as his relationships with nearly everyone had more or less faltered to the obligatory holiday card and stiff interaction.
Things with his family had been messy for a long time, what with the choice between his brother and father always playing in the background anytime they saw each other. It appeared the familial negativity had made its way into his own family, infecting his relationship with his own wife and kids.
He loved Rebecca, he really did, but it felt as if they both understood they were together under obligation. He actively chose to ignore his feelings in terms of how his wife and brother often interacted with each other, going as far as to simply pretend as if the affair had never happened in the first place. Whatever happened that night, he was certain that both Hero and Normal were his. And so Rebecca and him had seemed to come to a silent agreement that their kids didn’t need to see their parents go through a divorce. They managed to coexist in their home as they always did, alongside Lark and of course, Hero and Normal.
The Oak family had always been weird. His variation (Swallows Oak Garcia) would be no different.
And he was fine with that.
He was fine with Lark and their dad’s conflicts, he was fine with the rift in his friendships, he was fine with the affair between his wife and brother, and he was fine with watching his kids slowly pull away from him as they realize that he’s not the dad he had tried so hard to be.
He was fine with that. Everything would be o-ak.
“Sparrow?”
He turned at the sound of a familiar voice, one that if it were pitched higher with a more sweeter tone, could pass as his own. At the entrance of the kitchen is his brother, eyes squinted as if studying him. His brother’s gaze was… unnerving, to say the least. No one could read him better than Lark, but at the current moment he didn’t want to be read.
He cleared his throat, giving Lark a smile. “Need something?”
Lark shook his head, fingers drumming against the wall he was leaned against. “Passed Norm’s room on the way down and uh—” He gestured to his own head before asking, “What’s going on there…?”
“Mascot stuff,” Sparrow offered lamely, shrugging as he turned away. He didn’t feel like confiding in his twin at the moment.
“And that’s… all?”
Sparrow hummed, gripping the counter to steel his nerves.
“You sure…?”
“I think I’d know my own kid, Lark.” He finally turned, keeping the smile on his face. The corners of his lips twitched at the sight of his brother’s unbelieving gaze, at the concern he held in his eyes.
“I—I know. Just worried about my… nephew.”
“He’s fine.”
“Row—” He cringed at the use of the nickname. Leave it to his brother to know his weak spots. “I’m not trying to undermine your,” he paused, stepping forward as he searched for the word, “dad-ness, okay? I just—Thought I’d check in…”
Sparrow crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “It’s good. We’re good, he just… Quit Model UN for cheer and we both know how dedicated he is to Teeny…” “Oh.” Lark nodded. “Okay. What does Model UN have to do with Teeny?”
“Nothing. He just quit Model UN but also came home as… Teeny…” He groaned, bringing his hands to his face as he slid down the counter to sit on the kitchen floor. “He quit Model UN and came home as Teeny.”
“Yeah…?” Lark, sensing his brother’s distress, moved to sit beside him.
“And—and he didn’t even have cheer practice today—”
“Cause he was at Model UN.”
“Which means he doesn’t have much reason to be Teeny right now—”
“Well, he does sometimes just… wear it.”
“Not when he’s home!”
“He used to.”
Sparrow couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s monotone response, taking a deep breath as he rested his chin on his knees. “I just—I don’t understand why he doesn’t just talk to me… He said he quit because of schedule conflicts and of course I just chose to believe him because I’m—”
“A good dad, Row. You’re a good dad.”
He stopped his rambling to look at his brother, moved by the look of certainty on his face. While it didn’t stop the tirade of thoughts that he could be better, in the meantime, he’d be able to ignore them in favor of figuring out how to help his son. “Thanks, Lark.” His voice was quiet, his eyes growing teary within the whirlwind of self loathing and appreciation for his brother.
“Oh God,” Lark shook his head, “you don’t have to cry…” Still, the smile on his face was a fond one as he opened his arms to Sparrow. “I assume you want a hug too.”
Sparrow nodded, his own grin growing as he let himself find comfort in his brother’s arms.
Sparrow Oak wasn’t the best father, but at least he had a great brother to help him.