Archive of Our Own

1.

Mr. Heere knew that he had a lot of making up to do when it came to Jeremy. 

He didn’t quite understand the incident that landed him and six other kids in the hospital, or the explanation that it was a robot implanted in his brain. Either way he knew he needed to lay down the law.

As Jeremy left for Michael’s house for the fourth time that week, Mr. Heere came to the startling revelation that he was not good at laying down the law. He’d appreciated Michael’s help in getting his pants on, but really was it necessary for Jeremy to come over to watch a TV show with him? When he was his age he didn’t have TV shows.

Jeremy came back late, at the very least it was good he didn’t sleep over. Mr. Heere had tried setting a curfew but Jeremy somehow knew exactly when and how to sneak past him. Then walking back down, pretending he’d been there the whole time. 

So Mr. Heere decided to lay down the law to the one person he knew Jeremy would listen to. 

“Mr. Heere?” Michael’s phone sounded a bit scratchy over the phone, Mr. Heere heard little ‘beep-boops’ in the background, “Jeremy left like thirty minutes ago.”

“Yes, I know, Michael.” Mr. Heere said, “Look, I need to lay down the law with you.”

“Alright?”

“I need you to help me get Jeremy home by nine. I set a curfew with him but he’s not getting the memo of the new law around town,” he heard Michael mumble something out of earshot, “I need you to make sure he leaves earlier so he gets home on time.”

“Right, okay so- no?” Michael said, sounding confused at his own words, “Mr. Heere, you realize I’m the friend he’s staying longer to hang out with right? Why would I want him to leave earlier?”

“The law, Michael! The Law! Capitalized!” Mr. Heere stressed.

“Why-” Michael paused and Mr. Heere heard a deep breath, “Okay, Mr. Heere, this is not what I meant when I said you had to try harder to be his dad. Making rules for things that don’t need rules is not what Jeremy needs.”

“Then what should I be doing?” Mr. Heere sat down at the counter, folding a hand over his face. 

“Well for starters, get rid of that stupid curfew thing you’ve got going on. You have my mom’s phone numbers, just call them if you want to know if he’s here.”

Mr. Heere opened his mouth before he was interrupted by Michael’s more determined voice over the phone.

“And! You need to buy him some new clothes, dude! All of his jeans are too short for him now, and the shirts he uses now are worn out! He wears the same pair of converse, like every day because they’re the only shoes that fit. I mean when was the last time he got a new pair of clothes from you?”

Mr. Heere sucked the air through his teeth, he vaguely remembered Jeremy’s mom taking him shopping in freshman year. He doesn’t think it went well, Jeremy came home all tense and locked himself in his room until Michael stopped by over the weekend to tell him that stripes were in.

“Right, yes. I will do that.” He didn’t know what he felt worse about, being scolded by a teenager or the teenager being right. 

Michael sighed, “Good, he’s glad you're trying, don’t forget shoes are pricier.”

“Yes, Michael, I have shopped before.” The last time he bought new shoes was when he opened the law firm, but how much could’ve changed since then? 

“Okay, remember what I said about the curfew, get rid of it.”

“Bye, Michael.” Mr. Heere hung up and sighed. 

He heard footsteps down the stairs before Jeremy appeared in the kitchen. 

“Hey, dad… I was just-”

“Jeremy, forget about the curfew thing.”

“Really?” Jeremy beamed.

“No need to look so excited kid, anyway just text me if you’re staying over at Michael’s. Curfew stays the same if you’re going out.” Jeremy bounced on the balls of his feet, and Mr. Heere was drawn to the ends of his pajamas, they were more than above his ankle. 

He sighed and pulled out his wallet, taking out a couple hundred he handed it to Jeremy, who was bewildered. 

“Here, get some new clothes, don’t use that money for anything else you hear me? If you need new shoes, show me them before and I’ll give you the money.” 

He watched as Jeremy handled the money as if it was worth millions, he owned a law firm for god's sake, he could buy his kid a new wardrobe. 

Jeremy grinned and thanked him, running back up to his room, supposedly to text Michael the good news. 

When Jeremy came home the next day with a new hoodie on, Michael gave him a thumbs up. 

“Stop it.” Michael’s voice was loud, even with the speaker of his phone off. 

“What?” Mr. Heere was at work, he’d been trying hard to get back into how his firm was being run, and that included being present. 

“Stop it with the football metaphors and the military slang, he doesn’t know what you mean.”

“Michael-“

“What does ten-hut even mean? You weren’t even in the army.”

“It’s a football term, Michael.”

“And Jeremy doesn’t watch football, Mr. Heere. He has no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well y’know…”

He heard a door open in the background, and Jeremy’s voice. 

‘Like I get it but-‘

Then it was silent, and Mr. Heere pulled back his phone to see Michael had hung up on him. 

Michael does know Jeremy better than anyone, Mr. Heere guesses as he recalls Jeremy’s awkward disgust as he exited the bathroom this morning. 

Teenage boys do need their privacy, Mr. Heere remembers the awkward talks he had with his dad. 

He never really did give Jeremy The Talk, did he?

This time it was in person, Michael had come over with Jeremy to play ‘Mined Craft’ in his room. That was until Jeremy ran out with a wad of Michael’s cash, going out on a 7/11 run. 

“He bribed me to get him a slushie, and I want some doritos.” Jeremy explained as he put on his new coat and sped out the door. 

Mr. Heere took this as a chance to chat with Michael, man to man. 

Michael was relaxed on Jeremy’s bed, scrolling on his phone and half hugging a pac-man stuffie that Jeremy owned. 

“Michael,” Michael jumped up and threw the stuffie across the room. It landed next to Mr. Heere’s head. 

“Jesus christ, you-“ Michael took a moment to press a hand to his chest, and fell back on the bed. “Okay, hi.”

“Michael,” Mr. Heere repeated, he sat down on Jeremy’s wheely chair and spun around to face him. 

“Is this going to be a thing? Where you go to me for Jeremy things?”

“Listen, Jeremy’s a growing boy-“

“Right.”

“And I wanted to know if you thought I should give him The Talk.”

“The Talk.”

“Yes,” Mr. Heere started as Michael looked increasingly mortified, cheeks going pink. “As people get older they start developing certain urges-“

Michael put up a hand to stop him, “Just- don’t. Jeremy definitely doesn’t need the talk, our health class gave us it in eighth grade. He’s fine.”

“Yes, but health curriculum in schools aren’t necessarily good -“

“Mr. Heere he is fine; Do not give him The Talk” Michael looked dead serious, so Mr. Heere decided to let it go. 

“Alright then, good talk kiddo!” Mr. Heere slapped a hand on Michael’s shoulder and left Jeremy’s room just as Jeremy was walking down the hall, bags in hand. 

Jeremy looked suspicious before walking into his room, Mr. Heere heard a vague ‘ What did he say to you-’ before he turned on the TV. 

4.

The holidays were coming up, the weather became colder and Mr. Heere was faced with a new predicament. 

After Jeremy’s mother left, they didn’t celebrate holidays anymore. Mr. Heere might order takeout as a treat but that didn’t mean much when it was his whole diet at the time. Jeremy usually left to go celebrate with Michael’s family. 

This year was different, Mr. Heere was going to make an effort, and what came first was decorations. 

He stood in Target, staring at the different decorations and struggling between the blue and white and the red and green. 

Jeremy’s mother was Jewish, Mr. Heere grew up celebrating Christmas, but ultimately left that behind after they’d married.  

Would Jeremy want to celebrate Hanukkah? Would he prefer Christmas, after celebrating the past few years with the Mells?

Mr. Heere dialed Michael’s number, it rung for about a minute before Michael picked up. 

“Hey, this is for advice right? I left the room so Jeremy couldn’t hear.”

“Yes, I wanted to know if you knew what Jeremy thought about the holidays.”

“What, like what to get him? I think he wants a new controller, but I was going to get him that so …”

“You can give him the controller,” Mr. Heere said, fiddling with an ornament box. “Do you know if he wants to celebrate Hanukkah this year? Or Christmas?”

“I don’t know, I think he’d just appreciate it if you put the effort in, dude.”

Mr. Heere ignored the fact he was called dude, even though in a few years he’d be in his fifties. 

“Just do your best, I don’t think he’ll care if you choose one or both, just embrace the holiday spirit, man.”

“Right, sure. Thanks, Michael.”

Michael hummed and hung up, Mr. Heere stared at the two different decorations before putting both of them in the cart. 

The decorations went perfectly, Jeremy came home just as he did the finishing touches. He smiled even wider when Mr. Heere told him not to expect twice as many presents. 

Mr. Heere had slowly gotten the hang of being an involved dad, of course there were still some bumps in the road.

Mostly involving chores. 

“Dad,” Jeremy walked into the living room, holding a list, “I need some money for groceries.”

Mr. Heere looked up at him, “Son, you’re sixteen, I can do the groceries now.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows rose before he went “Oh, cool. Here’s the list.” He handed Mr. Heere a long list on a pink lined note. 

“Dad,” Jeremy walked into his bedroom, a day later,  “Did you get the laundry detergent on the list?”

“Yeah, kiddo, I got it. It’s in the laundry room.” Mr. Heere stared at the documents a new intern had sent him.

“That’s fabric softener, Dad.” 

Mr. Heere looked up, “Isn’t that what … detergent does?”

Jeremy facepalmed and said he’d borrow some from Michael. 

When Mr. Heere tried calling Michael for advice, Michael wouldn’t spill the beans on how Jeremy knew about all the household duties, instead claiming ‘bro code’.

“I’ll help with advice but I’m not gonna go around just spilling Jere’s info. It’s very uncool, dude.”

“But how do I know what I’m missing?”

“Ask Jeremy, trust me, he’d be happy to teach you if it meant he wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”

After the call ended Mr. Heere, a little ashamed, asked Jeremy how to run the washing machine. Jeremy slowly showed him the particular settings they used.

“Usually you’re supposed to separate like- the colors from the whites, but ours doesn’t need that so don’t worry. Always check the back right here -” Jeremy gestured to a little space between the different pieces of the machine “ - for socks, because they keep getting in there.” 

“Right, thank you kiddo.” Mr. Heere slapped Jeremy on the back.

+1

Mr. Heere’s law firm had taken new heights with his newly vigored contribution to the company. The firm always racked in money regardless of whether he showed up or not, but he’s noticed with the recent changes he’s made an intense increase in profits.

That led to him celebrating with Jeremy and Michael at a nearby diner. Mr. Heere wanted to go to a fancy place, after all it was money,  but Michael gave him a look and a head twitch towards Jeremy that indicated a less crowded place was better.

Michael had ordered for both him and Jeremy while Mr. Heere surveyed his options. Later, Jeremy went to use the bathroom.

“I made a mushroom risotto for dinner on Tuesday, but Jeremy didn’t eat much of it.” Mr. Heere started.

“The one with the green beans?” Michael said as if he’d already heard of it, which is not a good sign.

“Yeah, what’d I do wrong? I feel like I can’t get a grip on his food tastes.”

“No mushrooms man,” Michael took a sip of his drink, briefly looking out the window.

“No mushrooms? Why?”

“Cause they’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Michael said before correcting himself, “I mean freaking, my bad. But they’re so weird.”

“Right,” Mr. Heere said apprehensively.

“He just doesn’t like mushrooms man, so avoid ‘em.”

Mr. Heere hummed before a voice rung out from his left.

“What’s going on here?” Jeremy said, eyes giving something like betrayal. Mr. Heere saw Michael freeze up, panic set in his shoulders. “What, so you've just been- just been trading information about me? Great respect of fucking privacy.”

“Son-” Mr. Heere started before Jeremy stormed out of the diner. Mr. Heere turned to Michael and saw him cover his face, glasses pushed up into his hair, trying to conspicuously wipe his teary eyes.

Mr. Heere knew this wasn’t a situation Michael was equipped to resolve on his own, it was time for him to step up completely. He put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “I’ll go talk to him, you stay here, son.”

Michael only gave a small nod as an indication he’d heard him, as Mr. Heere followed out the building. 

Jeremy was the only one who didn’t drive, so it was easy to find him pouting on the sidewalk next to the parking lot. Mr. Heere caught his breathe - god he was unhealthy - before plopping himself beside Jeremy.

“Jeremy,” he started, “I want to tell you something.”

“No need,” Jeremy said, looking away, “I already figured it out.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about your mother.”

Jeremy snapped towards him as he started talking, “You know, one of the biggest reasons why we fought were misunderstandings. We’d argue for hours on end and then only figure out then that we’d had the same opinion, or just hadn’t communicated well enough.”

“But even when we did figure it out, we were still angry with each other, angry that the other didn’t figure it out sooner, more upset about the things we’d said to each other than the thing we were fighting about.” 

“So?” Jeremy muttered, “What’s your point?”

“I wasn’t a good husband, Jeremy. It doesn’t justify what she did to us- what she did to you, but I wish I’d been more involved from the beginning. More knowing about chores, what she needed, what you needed.”

“But you’re fine now.”

“I wasn’t a good father either, Jeremy,” He put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, “and I hate to say it but even before that whole ‘squap’ thing-” Jeremy let out a breathy laugh, “I relied on Michael too much to fill up spaces I should’ve been taking up for you. And even when I decided to get you help, he was the one I turned to. So when I made the decision to be a better father - well who else was there?”

Jeremy stayed quiet.

“He never said anything personal, I feel you should know that. Honestly, I wish he did sometimes, but he said something about ‘ bro code ’ so I suppose that was him laying down the law with me.”

“So what did you go to him for?”

“Well at first it was to get him to get you to abide by the curfew I set-” Jeremy’s mouth opened by how long ago it was, “And he told me to drop it and to get you some new clothes.”

Jeremy hand immediately went to the hoodie string of his recent purchase.

“Then it was him telling me to quit it with the uh- lingo I was using.” Jeremy snorted.

“Just general things, honestly the only things he’s told me straight up was the mushroom thing.” Mr. Heere avoided the topic of The Talk.

Jeremy groaned, falling back and putting his hands over his face, “Ugh, I fucked up didn’t I.”

Mr. Heere chose not to correct his language, “A little, but he’ll understand.”

Jeremy sat up, staring self deprecatingly at the road, “I’ve been such a shitty friend recently, I find out he’s been giving my dad advice on how to be a better dad and I get upset about it. Jesus.”

“Remember what I said about me and your mother?” Jeremy turned back to him, “You and Michael don’t have that, Jeremy.”

“Pretty sure the context is a bit different, dad.” Jeremy said, flustered.

“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow, “Look, me and your mother didn’t want to resolve our issues, but I know you and Michael can.”

“We can?”

“That boy loves you, Jeremy.” Mr. Heere said seriously, “And right now he’s kind of crying in a booth, and I think he’d really appreciate it if he knew you loved him back.”

Jeremy stared at his father for a moment before quickly standing up, “Shit- I gotta go talk to him.”

“Take my card, go pay for the bill.” Mr. Heere took his card and handed it to Jeremy, “I’ll head home while you guys talk. You can stay over at his.”

“What if we don’t work it out?” Jeremy said nervously.

“You will. I’m sure about that.”

Jeremy stood for a moment before running back into the diner.

The next day Jeremy and Michael dropped themselves off at the house. Mr. Heere didn’t let the subtle hand holding slip by, and pretended not to notice when he knocked on Jeremy’s bedroom door and heard panicked noises on the other side.

When Michael went down for snacks, Mr. Heere was already in the kitchen.

“Glad you made up,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“Thanks,” Michael said, “For doing that, I mean.”

“Bout time I did something, don’t you think?” He said, as Michael awkwardly laughed a little.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Mr. Heere hummed, “I’m pretty sure I don’t need to tell you this, but I approve.”

Michael’s eyes widened before Jeremy walked into the kitchen.

“Hey dad- just need Michael super quick. Fun friend bonding time, platonic pal gaming,” He rambled, cringing at every new word coming out of his mouth. He rushed a grinning Michael up the stairs and Mr. Heere let himself take a satisfying sip of his coffee.