Chapter Text
Chance remembers being three years old, staring up at a pot of boiling water on the stove.
His mother wasn’t bothering to watch over him nor the boiling water, and his father was at the casino as usual. The man was around slot machines and poker tables more than he was around his own children. Not that Chance understood this as a toddler. All he knew was that the house was quiet and he didn’t see his papa that much.
The water above hissed and burbled. From the short angle Chance was at, he could occasionally make out some bubbles peeking from the top. The pot had been on the stove for a while now. Did his mama forget again?
Chance was hungry. Where was his mama at? Usually, she was in the bathroom putting on makeup to look all pretty. Or she was in her and Papa's bedroom lying in bed. Not sleeping though. She would just lie there and stare up at the ceiling for a long, long, long, long time. Chance thought it was kind of weird and silly. He hated naptime and never stayed in bed longer than he had to!
The house was huge, especially in comparison to a tiny toddler. If their mother wasn’t in the bathroom or bedroom, then Chance wouldn’t know where to start searching for her. Even if they found her, she’d probably just wave them off and say, "In a moment, sweetie," like she always did.
Chance was not only hungry but also starting to grow quite curious. When you’re that small, a lot of things are too high up for you to see. The bubbling water sounded really, really cool. All they wanted was a quick peek at the very least!
Chance made their decision. They would grab the handle and take the pot down! Then, not only would they be able to see the water, but they might also be able to grab their mother’s attention!
Chance giggled. They were a genius!
“Chance? Don’t be by the stove. You get hurt.”
Chance glanced over at the entrance of the kitchen. His twin brother stood there, concern swimming in his eyes.
“It’s okay, Lance. Am gonna see the water!” Chance responded.
Lance shook his head. “No! Don’t do that!”
“Stop being a baby.”
“Hey! No, you being a baby!” Lance retorted. Chance ignored him in favor of reaching out toward the handle. “Chance! Stop!”
Chance furrowed his eyebrows. He was too short to reach. He stood up on his tiptoes, which allowed his fingers to just brush up against the handle. His arm was beginning to feel sore, but he was almost there… Just a little more…
He smiled triumphantly as he managed to wrap his hand around the handle. Chance tugged the pot toward him. Huh, it was a lot heavier than he thought it would be.
The pot suddenly slipped out of Chance’s grip and began to fall…
straight towards his face.
For a moment, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Chance’s eyes went wide as they watched the heavy metal pot get closer and closer. It tipped sideways, and boiling water splashed out. Chance suddenly regretted ever daring to grab the handle. They should’ve just gone looking for their mother. They should’ve just been content with not having her attention in the first place. They were used to it.
Chance let out a small whimper and squeezed their eyes shut, preparing for the pain.
It never came.
Something grabbed the back of Chance’s shirt and pulled him away. He crashed into whoever his savior was, causing them both to stumble to the ground. Behind him was a loud clatter as the pot met the floor.
Chance slowly opened his eyes, meeting his brother’s worried gaze.
“L-Lance…?”
Lance suddenly began to cry and threw his arms around Chance. “Why you do that?! That was scary!” He buried his head into Chance’s shoulder, getting their shirt wet with tears.
“Scary…?” The pure terror Chance felt just a moment ago was quickly forgotten. Or maybe it just transformed into something else because Chance began to laugh. “That was awesome!”
Thundering footsteps came from the hallway. At the entrance of the kitchen appeared their mother.
“What’s going on in here?!” she exclaimed.
Lance glanced over at Chance but kept his mouth shut, not willing to rat his sibling out. Chance, on the other hand, was all too willing to rat themself out.
“Look, Mama! I take down the pot!” Chance proudly pointed at the fallen pot and spilt water. The woman gaped as her gaze fell on the mess her child had made.
“Chance!” she admonished. She hurried over to Chance and began to fuss over him frantically. He swatted his mother’s prying hands away.
“No, no. Mama, stop! I don’t have an owie!” he whined. “Lance push me so the pot don’t hit me.”
His mother sighed and rubbed her face, messing up some of her perfectly applied makeup.
“Chance, don’t ever do that again. You could’ve gotten really hurt or…” She hesitated and then shook her head. “You’re lucky your brother was close by.”
Chance flashed his brother a big grin. "Thanks, Lance!”
Lance wiped his watery eyes and nodded. Chance looked back over at the pot. They didn’t know why their mother and brother were making such a big deal out of this. Sure, at the time of the pot falling, it was sort of frightening. But now Chance couldn’t help but feel excited! And they even got their mother’s attention!
The woman let out a huff before picking Chance up. As the adrenaline wore off, Chance felt a small sting. He glimpsed down, finding a single drop of hot water on his arm.
He frowned and wiped it off, leaving a tiny dot on his skin.