Work Text:
Pete couldn't sleep.
He was laying in bed, cuddling his favourite stuffed owl. He could still hear his parents arguing downstairs. They were yelling about something he didn't quite understand. Mommy was shouting about leaving town and better prospects. She had been acting strangely lately, often asking Petey if he would like to go on a trip with her. The way she said it sounded strange to him. But he didn't want to leave his beloved mommy. He would go with her to the ends of the earth.
His father clearly didn't like it. He kept shouting about work, loyalty, promotion...
Pete didn't understand any of it.
He just wanted things to be like they used to be at home. He wanted his dad not to stay late at work. He wanted him to want to spend time with him again, even if it meant playing hockey. He wanted his mum to smile like she used to. Lately, she had been too sad and tired to play with him. Pete kept asking her to help him with his jigsaw puzzle, and she kept saying, "Maybe tomorrow." She had stopped pretending to be different voices when she read him bedtime stories! Sometimes he wondered if his parents had always been like this. Maybe Pete had ruined everything? Maybe if he hadn't been born, they would still be happy?
He wrapped himself tighter in his duvet, trying to drown out the noise coming from downstairs. Today was worse than usual. Mum was crying very loudly. Dad must have thrown something, because there was a terrible crash.
And then there were more strange sounds. As if something was breaking. Pete was terrified. He cried quietly, as if somehow someone downstairs could hear him.
Finally, there was silence. Mummy stopped crying. Dad calmed down. Peter only heard someone leaving the house. However, he didn't dare to peek out of his room. If his dad caught him eavesdropping, he would be furious. He fell into a restless sleep, wishing only that in the morning everything would be better.
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Peter left his bedroom as quietly as he could. He could hear the radio playing softly and the gentle clinking of dishes in the kitchen. He expected to see his mom preparing breakfast for them, as usual. This time, however, it was his dad standing in the kitchen.
"Dad?" the boy said quietly.
"Pete. What do you want for breakfast?" asked the man. There was a strange tension on his face. Peter had never seen him like this before.
"Where's mommy? She always makes my breakfast," asked the boy timidly, still clutching his stuffed owl in his hands.
"She left us, Pete. Mommy's not coming back," replied his father, then went back to bustling about in the kitchen.
"She left? But... why?" The child's eyes filled with tears. He couldn't bear the thought that his beloved mummy would leave without a word.
"I don't know. She just left. Now sit down and eat your breakfast." His father's voice was growing angry. He slammed two plates down on the table.
"I don't want breakfast! I want mommy back!" Pete began to cry. He didn't understand the situation. He just wanted his family to go back to normal.
"Stop it, Pete. Your mommy's not coming back, stop acting like a wimp and just sit down at the table!" Dad shouted, banging his fist on the table.
"No! I want my mommy! We have to find her!" His father's aggression only made Pete more afraid. He became hysterical, and there was no stopping him.
His father couldn't take it anymore. He got up from the table so abruptly that he knocked over his chair. Although he was slim, he towered over the seven-year-old boy.
Pete's crying was interrupted by his father's hand hitting him straight across the cheek. The world seemed to stop. The only sound was the radio playing some old song.
"Go to your room. I don't want to see you until dinner," said Dad. His face looked terrifying. Frozen with fear, Peter could only nod in response. "And if you ask about your mother again, you'll get more than just a slap."
Pete turned away from his father and ran to his room. There, he curled up in a corner, quietly crying into his beloved stuffed animal. What had he done to deserve this? He just wanted his mom back.
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The next morning, Dad made him breakfast and drove him to school, as if nothing had happened. And Pete never dared to speak about his mom again.