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It had been about about a week since Zara… since that visit to the hospital and things were…
Things were.
Mel had barely left their room, hadn’t done much more than cry. Scolipede was curled up on their bed with her too. She came out a bit more, usually if Mel needed something, but was still clearly as upset about this as her trainer was.
Emmet joined Mel more often than not too. The first couple nights, he and Ingo had ended up sleeping in their bed with them. The twins had long outgrown that, the pair starting to take after Mel’s side when it came to height, but Nico and Mel weren’t about to make them sleep in their own beds. Not right now.
Nico had to keep busy. At least for a little longer. He knew he would breakdown about what had happened eventually, Zara was one of his best friends after all, but he just couldn’t yet. The emotions were stuck like a tangled fishing line that refused to snap.
At least this way someone could keep the house running, make sure everyone was eating and drinking water, make sure the important chores like laundry and dishes got done.
He should have expected that at least one of his sons would be like him.
Ingo had followed Nico around since they had returned from the hospital, Litwick usually on his hat. Always a step behind. Always ready to help.
In better times, Nico would have tried to talk with his son. But Ingo had barely said a word since then and Nico wasn’t much for them himself on a good day. For now, he’d wait for Ingo to he ready and help where he could.
Of course, Ingo was only twelve.
So it was one evening while they were cooking dinner, a line finally snapped.
“Can you get the garlic and an onion?” Nico asked Ingo as he chopped up the vegetables.
Ingo nodded and went to the fridge. Nico heard the door open. He finished chopping a green pepper.
The fridge hadn’t closed.
“Ingo?”
There was a soft whine and a shuddering gasp. Litwick gave a gentle and concerned coo from the kitchen table.
Nico turned around to see Ingo, staring into the fridge, tears slowly making their way down his face.
“Hey, Ingo, buddy.” Nico immediately abandoned dinner and rushed to Ingo’s side. He put a hand on Ingo’s back and gently guided him away from the fridge. “I got you. It’s okay.”
Ingo whined again, followed by a hiccup. He shook his hands, his head. Pulled his hat down and buried his face into it. Fell to his knees.
Nico followed him down. “I’m here, buddy. Just try to breathe, okay? We’ll get through this.”
Ingo pressed himself against Nico as a sob escaped him. Nico hugged him tight.
“I got you,” he hummed, running a hand through his son’s hair. “I got you. Let it out. It’s okay.”
Ingo’s sobs were rough, like he was trying to hold them back. Nico wasn’t sure if he was or not. He wasn’t sure what he would prefer with them sounding as painful as they did.
Either way, he held his son close until he finally calmed down again and slowly hugged him back.
“I miss Auntie Zara,” Ingo whispered, voice tired and raw.
Nico sighed, tears starting to form in his own eyes now. He rubbed Ingo’s back.
“I know,” he whispered. “I miss her too.”
That was all they said. Ingo finally let go after a few more minutes. Nico helped him to his feet.
“Why don’t you go rest with Emmet and you mom,” Nico suggested. “I can finish dinner myself.”
Ingo shook his head with a tired frown.
“Then why don’t you wait at the table,” Nico said. “Take a breather. I’ll get you some water.”
Ingo’s frown softened. He took a slow breath, then nodded. He went over and sat at the table, scooping up Litwick and hugging her and his hat close.
Nico got him a glass of water, then went back to making dinner. He wasn’t sure how much any of them were going to eat tonight.
There were already tears in his eyes before he started chopping the onion. They only grew once he did.
But the tangle got caught. The line refused to snap. All Nico got were a few tears and a sore throat.
He wiped his face once he was done with the onion. He turned to find Ingo right behind him, face still a little splotchy and wearing his hat again.
Ingo barrelled into Nico with a hug.
Nico hugged him back with a shaky breath of his own.
“Love you,” Ingo mumbled.
It had been a week.
Things were.
The tangle wasn’t freeing itself.
But Nico loved his family more than anything else.
He pressed a kiss into the top of his son’s head, onto the hat Zara had given him.