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It was a call Mike had gotten before, but one he always dreaded. Abby had had a “meltdown” (he always hated how the teachers phrased it, they said it like it was a slur or something) and they thought it would be best if he took her home for the day. Mike knew that Abby had probably faced a million judging stares from both child and adult alike that day, so when he finally arrived at the school, he held out his hand as soon as they were outside.
Mike didn’t talk much in the car. Neither did Abby, to be fair. It wasn’t tense, though, Abby could tell from Mike’s face. It wasn’t mad, wasn’t disappointed. At least, she thought. She hoped.
When they got inside, he helped her out of the car and finally inside. He let go of her hand and closed the door. “Want some alone time?” He asked, voice gentle and even. She nodded quickly, rushing up to her room without waiting for Mike to respond. That was fine for now, she needed it.
Mike waited a good amount. He could hear Abby’s tornado of emotions crashing down on her now that she was safe to let it all out in her own room. Once the thudding of feet on the floor and screams muffled into pillows ceased, Mike knocked at the door. “Abs, can I come in?”
Two taps. That was their little code. He opened the door and took in the state of her room. It was a bit messier than before, a few things thrown around. He could hear small sniffles coming from her little fort, where she was curled up on the floor.
Mike sighed to himself a bit. The poor kid. He knelt down by the opening in her fort and waited for her to engage. Whether it was coming out of the fort, speaking, or any other form of communication, Abby could initiate whenever she was ready.
“Bad day.” She croaked.
“Sounds like it.” Mike hummed with a nod. “What happened?”
“…Got a bad grade on my math test…really tried hard this time, studied for it and everything! And—and then Emma kept chewing her gum real loud, and when I told her to stop she just kept doing it louder! She was doing it to be mean, I even asked her nicely! I did what I was supposed to!” Tears quickly filled her voice as she ranted.
“Oh, Abs-“ Mike frowned, finally reaching into her fort and scooping her up into his lap. He let her cry it out into his shirt, him rubbing her back with slow, rhythmic pats like a metronome of comfort. He rocked her through the tears, cupping the back of her head in a tight embrace.
Once she was done, Mike pulled a cool bottle of water up. “Here, Abs, drink something.” Mike counted his lucky stars that Abby accepted it readily and didn’t put up a fight. He pat her back while she chugged the water. “Easy, there, Abs. Don’t want you to have a tummy ache on top of a bad day.”
Abby sniffed in agreement and nodded, putting the bottle down and plopping her head on Mike’s shoulder. “People are weird.”
“They are weird, aren’t they?” Mike hummed, rocking her slightly.
“They’re weird and I don’t like them.”
“Aww, you don’t like me either?”
“You’re different.”
“I’m not a person?” He chuckled.
“You’re my brother.” Abby answered, seemingly not in a joking mood.
“I get what you mean.” He nodded in agreement.
“You always do…” Abby laid her head on his shoulder again. “That’s why you’re different.”
“That Emma you’re talking about, the one who tried to trip you at recess?”
“Uh huh.”
“She sounds really weird.”
“She is really weird.”
“Y’know who else is really weird?”
“Mm?”
“…Aunt Jane.”
That did seem to send Abby into the joking mood, judging by her giggles. Mike laughed with her, ruffling her hair a bit. He sighed happily at his victory and leaned back. “You hungry?” Abby nodded against his shirt. “Then I’ll make us a nice snack, okay?” Mike picked her up and carried her to the dining room. He sat her down with a box of crayons and the blank back of a piece of junk mail for her to draw on.
“I dunno what to draw…” she frowned.
“That’s new.” Mike hummed softly. “Try drawing a picture about how you feel.”
That seemed to inspire the young artist, who started working away at her paper. Mike smiled to himself and dipped into the kitchen.