Chapter Text
“Last Monday before Christmas break! Exciting?” Vesemir tried to rouse up some enthusiasm at the breakfast table.
Without Eskel here though, his optimism was completely drowned out by Lambert and Geralt’s firmly anti-school stances.
“We’re not even going to be doing anything,” Geralt grumbled into his oatmeal. “It’s just gonna be stupid Christmas stuff.”
“Well you can go and participate in the stupid Christmas stuff and then report back to me.” Vesemir didn’t take the bait.
“Isaac’s family has already left for Christmas,” Lamb said. “They’re going to a cabin in the mountains.”
“Issac’s family is not in our tax bracket,” Vesemir replied, unfazed. “Are you two done eating? We need to be out the door in ten.”
“No,” Geralt replied, eating another bite of oatmeal, thoroughly displeased.
“I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t hear that,” he told him. “Lambert, run a brush through your hair please.”
“What’s a tax bracket?”
With significant coaxing and prompting from Vesemir, they made it out the door fifteen minutes later.
“Shotgun!” Lamb pushed around Geralt.
“Do not run on the ice!” Vesemir shouted after him. He prepared himself to scold Geralt for his response, but Geralt climbed in the backseat without so much as a middle finger at Lambert.
A year ago that behavior would’ve gotten Lambert a fistful of snow down his shirt. Today the older boy was as gloomy and unresponsive as the steel gray sky above them.
“Everybody buckled?” Ves climbed in the driver’s seat and started the car. Lamb gave him two thumbs up, and Geralt continued to stare blankly out the windshield. He’d have a talk with him after Lamb was gone.
The elementary school was their first stop, and Ves never pulled away from the curb before he saw Lambert enter the building. Old habits die hard, he supposed. This morning’s complaints were nothing compared to the measures he’d used to take.
“Wanna hop up front, kiddo?” He turned around to look at Geralt once Lamb was behind the gates.
Ves would do this conversation cab driver style if Geralt insisted, but he’d rather have him up front. He wanted a closer look.
Geralt’s silence held, but he did walk around to the front seat. Upon closer inspection, Geralt looked sleepy and displeased, but not feverish or pallid.
“Are you gonna have fun today?” Vesemir peered around Geralt, watching Lambert duck inside before he pulled away from the curb.
“Will Eskel be home when I get home from school?” Geralt dodged the question.
“Nope, he won’t be home until seven.” And that was if he didn’t get a late call. Ves had a lot of feelings about Eskel picking up EMT shifts during Christmas break, but Geralt did not need to know them. It was hard enough for Geralt going to school without him.
“Hmm.” Geralt fell silent, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Do you think you can have a good day today?” He asked his son seriously, not trying to hide his concern.
“I dunno,” Geralt hemmed, clearly torn between his want to avoid school and his need to remain low maintenance.
If they were both being honest, Ves would probably let Geralt out of school today if he pressed it. He was closer today than Vesemir had seen in a while.
“My stomach hurts,” he confirmed.
“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Vesemir frowned.
“Hmmph.” He wouldn’t commit to asking Vesemir to stay home, but he obviously wanted to.
“How about you do your best to get through the morning, and if your stomach hurts too much to eat your lunch then you go down to the office and call me, okay?”
He nodded, not looking at Vesemir.
“Did you pack me something?”
“I did.” This was unusual for them, but Geralt had been spectacularly apathetic lately, and Vesemir didn’t trust him to eat if left to his own devices.
“Thanks, Ves.”
He pulled up across the street from Geralt’s school. “Of course, kiddo. I just want you to have a good day.”
Geralt nodded, looking at the floor, and mumbled something about doing his best.
“I’ll see you this afternoon. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He was already running late, but Vesemir waited to watch Geralt cross the street. He wasn’t sure what he feared (not him making a run for it, certainly), but watching him slog through the slush into the school building didn’t make Ves feel better about any of this.
***
For all of his obligatory whining, Lambert wasn’t too mad about being at school today. Not only was it the last week before Christmas break, but they would also be having a substitute for the entire week. He wasn’t going to have to learn a single thing.
There was gonna be some old lady behind the desk handing out craft projects and screening movies between rehearsals for the school winter program.
When Lamb entered the classroom, he didn’t find someone’s grandma, he found a tall young man with dark hair. He was so surprised he stopped short, and one of his classmates ran into his backpack.
“Hey!” Lamb whipped around. “What the heck?”
One of the other boys in his class stood there smirking.
“You shoved me!” He accused his classmate. Lamb had felt it, but before he could, the substitute was crossing the distance in two large steps and standing between them.
“Woah woah woah, it’s too early in the day for conflict.”
Lambert backed down, not wanting to get on this guy’s bad side so quickly.
“Sorry.” The word was barely audible, but it was enough to get Lambert off the hook.
“Atta boy,” the teacher said.
To his intense mortification, Lamb’s cheeks went red hot. If he noticed, the teacher didn’t acknowledge it.
“I’m Mr. Richards.” He offered his hand to Lamb and his classmate to shake. “Nice to meet you. What are your names?”
“Zack.” He elbowed his way in front of Lamb, who was still flaming.
“Lambert,” he said when it was his turn.
Mr. Richards was tall with dark hair, and he reminded him of Hawkeye, the doctor in Vesemir’s favorite TV show. All of the sudden, Lambert wanted very badly for the substitute teacher to like him.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Richards.”
Unsure of what to do with himself, Lambert turned sharply and went to sit at his desk. He pulled out his crumpled spelling word list and stared at it, not registering any of the words, focused too intently on how hot his cheeks were. Lamb kept his head down, pretending to study intensely to avoid anyone’s attention.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was glad he was here or not. Either way this week was not going to be what he expected, and it certainly was not going to be boring.