Chapter Text
## Huck
Turning thirteen feels strange.
Not bad strange.
Not good strange either.
Just—
Strange.
Because birthdays are supposed to feel important, Huck thinks.
They are supposed to feel different.
Like something changes overnight.
But when Huck opens his eyes that morning and stares at the ceiling above his bed, everything mostly feels the same.
The room is still his room.
The fishing rod leaning against the wall is still there.
The typewriter still sits on the desk by the window.
His arm no longer hurts when it rains.
His ribs only ache sometimes now.
The house is quiet.
Dad is still deployed.
Mom is still pregnant.
Everything is still happening.
So thirteen feels strange.
---
He walks downstairs and immediately smells pancakes.
Interesting.
Very suspicious.
Because Mom usually only makes pancakes when something important happens.
Or when she accidentally buys too much pancake mix.
Today definitely not second option.
She turns when she hears him.
Immediately smiling.
Far too much smiling.
"Happy birthday."
Huck awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.
"...Thanks."
Mom walks over and hugs him.
Which is expected.
Very expected.
Because Mom hugs for:
Good things.
Bad things.
Average things.
Sometimes no things.
Interesting system.
Very affectionate system.
She pulls away.
"You hungry?"
Huck shrugs.
"Yeah."
Then after a moment:
"...Can we not really do birthday stuff?"
Mom pauses.
Not upset.
Just pauses.
"What do you mean?"
Huck sits down.
Looks at table.
"Dunno."
He thinks for a second.
Then quietly:
"Dad ain't here."
Silence.
Not bad silence.
Just honest silence.
Huck continues.
"Feels weird celebrating when he's gone."
Mom slowly sits across from him.
Thinking.
Then softly asks:
"What would you want to do instead?"
Huck shrugs again.
Interesting.
Because shrugging solves approximately nothing.
Eventually he quietly says:
"...Could we just go fishing?"
Mom smiles.
Not big smile.
Small smile.
"Yeah."
Pause.
"Anything else?"
Huck thinks.
Then shakes head.
"...No."
---
An hour later they are loading the boat.
The lake is quiet.
Cold enough for jackets.
Warm enough that the water isn't frozen.
Perfect fishing weather.
Dad would say perfect fishing weather.
Interesting.
Because Huck immediately misses him.
Again.
---
Mom remains absolutely terrible at fishing.
Some things never change.
Within twenty minutes she somehow tangles the line around herself.
Huck stares.
"...How?"
Mom looks offended.
"I don't know."
Pause.
"I think this fishing pole hates me."
Huck sighs dramatically.
"You holding it backwards."
Mom blinks.
"Oh."
Very concerning.
Very concerning behavior.
---
So Huck teaches her.
Again.
He shows her where to hold.
How to cast.
How to reel slowly.
How to be patient.
Mom listens seriously.
Which still surprises him.
Because grown-ups usually pretend they already know things.
Mom doesn't.
She asks questions.
Tries again.
Misses.
Tries again.
Eventually catches something.
Very small fish.
Extremely small fish.
Mom immediately cheers.
"I DID IT."
Huck looks.
"...That fish still a baby."
Mom gasps dramatically.
"Rude."
Despite himself—
Huck laughs.
---
Around lunch time—
Mom's phone rings.
She immediately checks.
Then smiles.
Very big smile.
"Oh."
She hands phone over.
"Someone wants the birthday boy."
Huck immediately straightens.
Because:
Dad.
---
## Michael
Missing birthdays sucks.
It just does.
Michael has missed holidays.
Anniversaries.
Family dinners.
Random Tuesdays.
Military teaches you that missing things sometimes happens.
Doesn't mean it hurts less.
---
The connection crackles.
Then:
"...Hello?"
Huck.
Good.
Very good.
Michael immediately smiles.
"Happy birthday, kid."
There's a pause.
Then:
"...Thanks."
Michael immediately notices.
Interesting.
Because Huck sounds quieter.
Not upset.
Just—
Missing somebody.
Michael quietly asks:
"You fishing?"
"Yeah."
Pause.
"Mom caught a branch earlier."
Excellent.
Very excellent.
Michael laughs.
Loud enough nearby soldiers glance over.
Worth it.
Very worth it.
---
Eventually Michael says quietly:
"Sorry I'm not there."
Silence.
Then Huck answers honestly.
"...I know."
Pause.
"...Still wish you were."
Oh.
Interesting.
Painful.
Michael swallows.
"Yeah."
Pause.
"Me too."
---
Michael changes subject.
Important.
Very important.
"Got something coming for you."
Huck immediately perks up.
"...Really?"
Michael sounds offended.
"Buddy."
Pause.
"Of course."
Then grins.
"Should arrive soon."
"What is it?"
Michael immediately answers:
"No."
Huck groans.
Excellent.
Very excellent.
---
Before hanging up—
Michael quietly says:
"You taking care of your mom?"
Huck answers immediately.
"Yeah."
"Good."
Pause.
"Keep doing that."
Then softer:
"Love you, kid."
Silence.
Then:
"...Love you too."
Interesting.
Still wonderful hearing.
Very wonderful.
---
## Huck
After phone call—
Everything feels better.
And worse.
Interesting.
Very rude.
Because now he misses Dad more.
But also—
Less.
Very confusing.
---
They fish another hour.
Then Mom notices.
Again.
Because she always notices.
"You okay?"
Huck shrugs.
Then quietly asks:
"...What happens after baby born?"
Mom blinks.
"What do you mean?"
Huck stares at water.
"Dad deploys."
Pause.
"He misses stuff."
Another pause.
"...What happens when baby has birthdays?"
Mom becomes quiet.
Really quiet.
Thinking quiet.
After a long moment she says:
"We keep going."
Huck looks confused.
"That's it?"
Mom nods slowly.
"Mostly."
Then she continues.
"Military means sometimes people miss things."
Pause.
"It isn't fair."
Another pause.
"It sometimes really sucks."
Interesting.
Honest answer.
Very Mom answer.
---
She continues softly.
"But missing moments doesn't mean somebody stops being family."
Pause.
"We celebrate early sometimes."
"We celebrate late sometimes."
"We celebrate through video calls."
Small smile.
"We make weird traditions if we have to."
Huck listens carefully.
Mom continues.
"And when Dad deploys—"
Pause.
"We support him."
Another pause.
"And when he comes home—"
She smiles.
"He supports us."
---
Huck quietly asks:
"...Baby ain't gonna be mad?"
Mom laughs softly.
"Oh."
Pause.
"Probably sometimes."
Interesting.
Very honest.
Then she says:
"But they'll also know their dad loves them."
She looks directly at Huck.
"Just like you know."
Oh.
Interesting.
Chest weird again.
Very rude.
---
Mom gently bumps shoulders with him.
"And baby got advantage."
Huck looks over.
"What?"
Mom smiles.
"They get you."
Huck blinks.
"...Me?"
Mom nods.
"Yeah."
Pause.
"You've already been practicing."
Huck looks confused.
Mom starts counting.
"You help fix things."
"You carry groceries."
"You remind me eat."
"You check locks."
"You make sure I don't lift heavy stuff."
Small smile.
"You've been taking care of us for months."
Interesting.
Because—
Oh.
Hadn't thought about that.
---
Huck quietly asks:
"...Think I'll be good brother?"
Mom answers immediately.
"I know you will."
No hesitation.
None.
Interesting.
Very dangerous.
Because now chest weird again.
Very rude.
---
Huck looks back toward lake.
Sun starting set.
Water quiet.
Mom terrible at fishing.
Dad far away.
Baby coming.
Everything changing.
Again.
He quietly says:
"...Okay."
Mom smiles.
"Okay?"
Huck nods.
"...We'll keep going."
Mom squeezes his shoulder.
"Yeah."
Very softly.
"We will."
For first time all day—
Thirteen finally starts feeling okay.