Work Text:
“You have four Fs now, Microphone.” Firebrand looked down at the screen of his tablet concernedly, his fingers tapping leisurely against his thigh.
“‘Kay.” Was all Microphone responded with. He sounded annoyed.
“You need to get these grades up. Do you want to be held back?” Firebrand’s golden eye landed on Mic. He was clearly just worried, but it only made Mic angry. He knew his grades were bad already. He hated hearing about it because it reminded him of how much of a failure he was. “Do you need me to get you a tutor?”
“No.” Mic growled. “It’s not hard to understand, it’s just hard to actually… do it. I don’t like it.”
“We all have to do things we don’t like, hon. You need to turn in your assignments. You haven’t turned in one single algebra assignment this semester.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Give me your phone.”
“What?!” Mic’s voice raised in pitch and volume. “No!” He scooted himself back toward the edge of the couch, far from the chair Firebrand sat in.
“Yes! You always say you’ll do your missing assignments, and then you don’t. I’ve warned you several times that I’d take your phone if you kept it up, and that’s finally happening.” Firebrand’s tone was stern, but he really didn’t look angry. He looked sad, if anything.
“No!”
“Hand it over, Microphone.” Mic stared at Firebrand angrily for a moment before ripping his phone from his pocket and throwing it down by the chair Firebrand sat in. Firebrand flinched. Valk took off to his room after that, doing his best to ignore the pang of guilt that suddenly clawed at his chest.
Firebrand sighed and covered his face with his hands when he heard Mic’s door slam. Taking care of kids was so tiring. He was thankful that Megaphone usually listened well because Mic and Rocket were fiery little teenagers who very easily would become angry at everything. It was just a phase, surely, but it was exhausting to keep up with for Firebrand and Zuka. It wasn’t uncommon for them to vent to each other about it. It’d typically end with one of them in the other’s arms, often sobbing if it was Firebrand that was being held or being peppered with kisses if it was Zuka.
Speaking of which, Zuka returned inside through the back door with Mega and Rocket, the two children laughing and shoving each other around while Zuka watched in amusement. When he spotted Firebrand, though, Zuka frowned and made his way to the god. He placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” Zuka spoke, his voice full of care. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what to do, dear. Microphone has so many missing assignments. He’s failing half his classes, but I can’t get him to try to do them. I don’t know how to.”
“You want me to try talkin’ to him?”
“Please,” Firebrand sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Zuka’s lips. Zuka returned it for a moment before he pulled away and smiled at his husband who gave a tired smile in return.
“Can you tell Rocket to do his homework for me? I’ll try to be back soon. I love you.”
“I will. Love you too.”
Zuka strolled down the hall until he was at Microphone’s door. He knocked a few times and made sure to do it relatively lightly.
“Go away, Pa!” Mic’s voice cracked, and he sounded like he was crying.
“It’s me, bud. You okay?” Zuka asked softly. Mic went silent for a moment as if he were deciding on if he were okay or not.
“No.”
“Can I come in?”
“Um,” Mic paused and sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah.” Zuka entered the kid’s bedroom and closed the door behind himself. Mic sat on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, and he looked up at Zuka; he had been crying, and Zuka could tell. Zuka sat down beside Mic, and Mic unintentionally fell against him at the sudden shift in weight distribution across the mattress, but he made no attempt to move off of the older.
“C’mere.” Zuka opened his arm. Mic wrapped his arms around Zuka tightly and whimpered, burying his face into his shirt and letting a few tears wet it. Zuka held Microphone and rubbed the teenager’s back. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
“Pa’s taking my phone because I’m too stupid for school.” Mic huffed.
“That’s not- you’re not stupid.”
“I am!”
“What makes you think that?”
“I can never focus on stuff enough to finish it except for in band, and then when it’s a missing thing I try to do it, but I don’t know where to start, and there’s way too much, so I just don’t do it. It’s so easy for everyone except me because I’m dumb.”
“That doesn’t make you dumb. Maybe you just have different needs compared to other people.”
“Huh?”
“Well, school and… all that, they just expect kids to sit still and listen for a whole seven hours. It’s not easy, especially if you don’t think exactly the same as other people. Rocket has a problem with stuff like that, too.”
“Yeah, but he has autism, so he gets a 504. I don’t have anything, though. I’m just dumb.”
“You aren’t dumb, kid. You understand music more than I ever could. And, who says you don’t have anything? You’ve never been tested, have you?”
“Um. No.”
“Maybe we should get you tested, huh? But for now, we just gotta figure out how you can do the work without much accommodation. First off, how ‘bout we work on a few missing assignments each night? You don’t have to do all of them at once. I’ll help you pick ‘em out.”
“That… sounds nice,” Mic sniffed. “But what if I don’t know where to start inside of the assignment?”
“I’ll help you with that too. I can try to guide you through it with your Pa, if that’s what you need. If ya start having issues focusing, we can take a short break.”
“Um, okay. That sounds like it’d help, I think.”
“Look at me, bud.” Zuka said. Mic looked up at him. “You are smart. Can you repeat that for me?”
“I… am smart,” Microphone spoke reluctantly.
“Good. Now let’s take a look at that work. You can have your phone back when we finish some of it, okay?” Zuka gave Mic a gentle squeeze.
“Okay.” Mic nodded with a smile.