Work Text:
Vesper spent the hours of his days normally as he usually would. Read, eat, paint a little watercolor (which was just random doodles on a canvas, he told everyone it was interpretive, but himself and the others knew it was just chaos on paper), take a nap in his dads bed because it’s been a week since he left for a mission. He also decided to reorganize the house, and was disappointed in the lack of first aid supplies. Later, he went to the pharmacy to get said first aid supplies and his medications. For the last few hours of the day, he blasted loud music (a curated playlist he’s made over the years, mixes of genres and artists), and finished writing in the diary his therapist insisted he write in.
Vesper’s ears perked up at the sound of the front door opening. He immediately closed the diary and got up. The one variable he didn’t think of was the fact the loud door had SLAMMED close, and the fact his stomach gave him a bad feeling. He stepped over the various dirty clothes in his very filthy room. His dad complained about it a lot, but in the teens opinion, it brought charm to it.
Vesper’s hand barely touched the handle when he heard things being thrown around the living room suddenly. The bad feeling in his nervous system increased, and he listened intently.
He froze. Plates being smashed, punches in the walls, chairs and tables being flipped. He could hear it all. Memories flashed behind his eyes, before he felt tears pouring from his eyes. He needed to hide.
He locked the door swiftly, opening the closet door and dragging in a blanket and a stuffed animal. He curled up on the floor, covering his ears to block out the yelling. He mumbled under his breath, a mix of prayers and go away.
It was a few minutes of panic like that before he heard thunderous pounding on the door. “Open up.” Vesper practically flinched at the sound, standing up quickly and getting out of the closet. He slowly inched towards the door, before opening the door.
There, standing upset and angry, was his father, Loki. Still in a mission suit, cuts on his face and eyes furrowed in pissedoffness. Even his hair was messed up, to Vesper's horror.
Vesper, meanwhile, was visibly tense, back slightly hunched as if waiting for a hit. His fingers digged into his wrist when he didn’t see his dad soften up at all. His throat tightened up, mouth drying. He’s so screwed.
Vesper doesn’t remember much of what happened leading up. He does, however, remember his dad getting really mad about the paint and dirty clothes everywhere, the lack of Vesper speaking up making the situation worse.
When Vesper did try to speak up, he saw a flash of cold rage on his dad’s face and then he got slapped in the face. Hard.
The room was silent, Vesper's head bowed in shame and anticipation, curls hiding his face and new bruise. He could see his dad staring at his own hand in surprise, and then flicker back to him. A few more minutes of silence, and then his dad just left.
Vesper finally looked up, tears falling down freely now. He’s got to work quicker than he wanted to.
He cleaned his bed, organized his stuffed animals, put away his laundry, put dirty clothes in the laundry basket. He scrubbed the walls and windows of dirt until they were practically mirrors. Vesper was in panic. He needed to clean everything before he got hit more.
Making sure his room was spotless, he finally washed his hands in the bathroom connected to his room. He pulled out the first aid kit he restocked earlier, thankfully, and finally started working away at the horrible bruise on his cheek. The smack was so rough that a little cut was right smack dab in the middle of the bruise, probably caused by one of his dad’s rings. No matter, it just made the job harder.
He put some healing cream on it, added a bandaid before putting gauze on the whole thing altogether.
That night Vesper stayed in his room, the nightmares being dealt with by himself. He was still too scared to go tell his dad like he usually would. Even thinking about talking to him scared him horribly.
The relationship was never the same after that. Vesper was more closed out, less trusting. Watching his drinks, flinching at every sound. Although, his dad never apologized. Even if there was a new scar on Vesper's face, he didn’t apologize. So Vesper stayed away.
Until one night. Vesper had been careless and exhausted, not putting up a sound barrier. Eventually, the nightmare came, and Vesper's eyes teared open, letting out a much too loud yelp. The sound echoed in the house, and he immediately recognized his misstep. He expected Loki to storm in and yell at him and hit him. He waited in silence, until seconds later, he felt arms around him coming from the front. He tensed up, until his dad’s voice spoke in a soft tone. “Shh…you’re safe.”
Vespers' tension eased up, but he was still cautious.
He felt his fathers thumb brush against his injured cheek, almost apologetic. That would have been enough to gain Vesper’s trust again; what happened next sealed it. Loki tilted Vesper’s head up, pressing a light kiss to the bandaged cheek, and then his forehead. Vesper was frozen for a few seconds, a little shocked. His dad did not wait for a response however, and pulled him closer. Both of them were resting on their sides now, Vesper’s face hiding in his dads chest and Loki’s chin resting on the top of his son's head.
The room was peacefully quiet, and Vesper felt that calm that he always felt when he was in his dads arms. Both father and son were breathing deeply, before the father spoke up. “You know I didn’t mean it, correct?” The son nodded, humming in approval to confirm. Loki hummed, but Vesper swears he could still hear sadness in his tone. “Good. Now go back to sleep. I’ll be here. Always.”
Vesper sighed, exhausted. As he began to doze off, he could feel his father press another kiss to his forehead, and murmuring, “I love you.”
Vesper huffed tiredly. “I love you too,
Dad.”