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Chili knew kids were hyper. Most of them, anyway. Hell, he was sure he was a little terror when he was a kid, and surely his mom would have confirmed that.
But how the hell did a five-year-old have this much energy?
Crispin was by no means a quiet kid. When he wasn’t playing Pokémon battle with his toys (which, annoying as it could be, was adorable to watch), he was tearing madly around the house, squealing and giggling and doing whatever else five-year-olds usually did. It was usually cute. When it wasn’t happening for thirty minutes straight. Chili knew Crispin wasn't exactly low-energy (he was half Chili, after all), but at this rate he was going to drive his dad crazy.
Chili had to do something. He was the only adult in the house, so it was up to him to distract the kid somehow. As Crispin came barreling into the living room, holding the stuffed Torchic that never left his side nowadays, Chili knelt down in his path. Crispin stopped just short of hitting his dad, staring at him as if expecting him to move.
“Hey, buddy.” Chili grinned. This would work, it had to. “You wanna play hide and seek with me?”
Crispin’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yeah! Yeah!” He giggled, and Chili scooped him up. He knew that game would get Crispin interested; it was his favorite, after all. Even if he never really hid anywhere but the living room or the kitchen, it wasn't like Chili was complaining.
“Okay. You go hide and I’ll count to twenty, okay? Go hide somewhere good.”
Crispin giggled again as Chili set him down, already headed off somewhere as Chili started counting.
“...Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Ready or not, here I come!”
The first place Chili looked was the kitchen. Crispin had developed a fascination with everything in it, and more often than not Chili found the kid watching him as he made dinner. He looked in the lower cabinets and under the table. Finding no traces of his son’s bright reddish-orange hair, Chili moved on.
The living room was his next guess. It had a lot of furniture, after all, rife with places a five-year-old could fit. Chili became very acquainted with the floor as he looked under the couch and chairs, even behind curtains for good measure. But the kid wasn’t there, either.
Chili shrugged. Maybe Crispin had gotten tired of hiding in the same old places. But Chili hadn’t heard him go upstairs…
He checked every room on the first floor. The bathroom, his office (which he rarely went into himself, so he wasn’t sure why Crispin would be in there, but anything was possible), the kitchen and living room again…
No sign of Crispin.
Maybe he really had gone upstairs?
“Crispin?” Chili called, already on his way up the stairs. Maybe the kid had just sneaked upstairs or something.
Chili opened the door to Crispin’s room, immediately met with the bright colors and cheerful decorations within. His toys were scattered around the floor (Chili made a mental note to ask him to pick them up later), and Chili stepped over a few stuffed Pokémon toys as he searched for his son.
Crispin wasn’t under the bed, nor was he in the closet. He wasn’t in his parents’ room, either, as Chili learned when he went to check there too.
Where the hell had the boy gone?
“Crispin?” Chili called again, doing another sweep of the second floor. Nothing.
Damn it.
“Crispin!” Chili wasn’t sure what he was doing calling Crispin’s name at this point, but it didn’t hurt. He kept on, looking in the same places he had before on both floors of the house.
He wasn’t on the first floor, or the second… or outside…
There was no way Chili had lost his own kid.
“Crispin!” he yelled again as he came in from the backyard. “Crispin, this isn’t funny anymore, okay? Daddy’s freaking out a little bit, just come out so I can see you.”
Again, nothing.
Chili cursed under his breath before his hand brushed over one of the Poké Balls on his belt.
Wait.
Chili debated on who he wanted to send out. Talonflame wouldn’t be a good idea, not inside. But most of his others would be. Crispin loved his dad’s Pokémon; if Chili couldn’t get him to come out of hiding, they could. Besides, it never hurt to have some extra help.
Chili finally decided on three: Simisear, Heatmor, and Magmortar. The three Pokémon appeared in a flash of red light.
“Okay, listen up.” Chili leaned against the kitchen counter. “Crispin’s somewhere in this house. I’ve looked everywhere he might be, but I haven’t found him yet, and I am not admitting I lost him. I’ll look around too, but I need your help.”
The three Pokémon let out sounds of agreement, and Magmortar and Heatmor headed off upstairs. Simisear stayed behind to look over the first floor again, Chili with him. He thought he heard his partner padding off somewhere while Chili was rechecking his office, but the worry for Crispin overshadowed any concentration on that.
Because the kid had to be somewhere in the house, and damn it if Chili wasn’t going to—
A familiar cry from Simisear caught his attention immediately. Chili followed the sound, which led him… into the basement.
When the hell had Crispin gone into the basement?
Chili shook the thought out of his head, descending the stairs. He was soon greeted with Simisear standing over an upturned box… and Crispin sitting beside it with a very serious expression. As serious as a five-year-old could be, anyway, especially with his stuffed Torchic sitting in his lap.
Without waiting for words, Chili scooped Crispin up and squeezed him tightly. The sight of his baby intact was a welcome one, even if Chili knew the kid wasn’t in that much danger.
“You cheated, Daddy,” Crispin complained softly as he returned his dad’s hug. Chili just laughed.
“Yeah, I guess so. But you’re the one who scared me, so.” He kissed Crispin’s forehead. “Let’s stay out of here from now on, okay? There are plenty of places upstairs.”
Crispin nodded, already brightening. “Again!”
“You wanna go again?”
“Yeah!” Crispin clapped his hands. “You hide now.”
“If you insist.” Chili grinned as he carried Crispin upstairs, setting him down on the kitchen floor. “You know how high to count?”
“Yeah!” Crispin pressed himself against a nearby wall, already starting to count.
Chili looked back to watch his son as he headed off to an easy place for Crispin to find him in. Yes, his son scared the hell out of him sometimes, but Chili wouldn’t have Crispin any other way.