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"'m sorry."
Chris looks at Theo, little legs swinging on the couch and fingers clinging to his air-filled dinosaur as they wait for Buck and his dad to "finish setting up the car." Chris is pretty sure that it's just code for "argue about something stupid," but it's not like either of them would ever admit that out loud.
"It's okay, Theo," Chris says again, trying to be patient the way dad and Buck always are with him. It is, really. Theo was a wild child, Chris knew, and he didn't kick the basketball to kick it at Chris. He just had a lot of energy for his small body. A lot of feelings for his small body.
He remembers being Theo's age and yelling a lot, actually, because he also had so much energy in his body but it wouldn't move the way he wanted it to. Because he wanted to run and scream and flail to get the buzzing under his skin out, but he could only stumble and catch himself, burst into big bubbling tears. Even now, it buzzes sometimes, like a nest of ants beneath his skin.
Theo looks at him, all big eyes. He looks down at the puffy plastic dinosaur in his arms contemplatively, and says: "D'you want my dinosaur?"
Chris laughs, unable to help it. "That's alright, Theo."
"Dinosaurs make you feel better," Theo says. "That's what Buck says. I got lots."
Chris looks at him, hums. "Do you need to feel better a lot?"
Theo rubs his face against plastic, mouth a pouting line. Chris notices it, the tears that he's holding back. For all that Theo isn't very good at controlling his impulses, he's terribly good at controlling his tears.
"I'm sad," he says, plain the way only a little kid can be. He heaves a big sigh, the way you do when the breath is a replacement for something else. Something sadder. His voice is wobblier when he says: "Buck's sad, too."
Chris follows his eyes, catches the same glimpse beyond their curtains-- the edge of dad's arms, folded and tense. Buck's hands, wrung together in front of him. A hint of the exhausted, guilty expression on Buck's face. Christopher's chest twists. He wishes they wouldn't fight about him. He knows, deep down, that it's not about him at all.
"Buck's just tired," he says, finally.
Theo shakes his head. "I made Buck sad," he says, quiet.
Am I one of the things that make you sad?
Chris can't help his hand from running through Theo's curls, making the little boy look up at him. He was this small too, once, though it feels impossible to see now. "Buck said that he wants me to stay," Theo mumbles. "Miss Deidra said that they couldn't find anyone else who wanted me. I don't wanna make Buck sad."
His legs kick out, small and agitated. Chris remembers broken salad bowls, pictures of dead people, his mom, drowning. "Hey," he says, choosing his words carefully. Theo looks at him, focused the way Buck always is, in whatever Chris says.
"Buck's sad because of what happened," he admits, because he'd forgotten that little kids were cleverer than anyone thought they could be. Because Buck had apparently forgotten, somewhere along the way, that one of Christopher's favorite things about him was how he never lied to him. "But not because of you, Theo."
Theo looks up at him. "Really?"
Chris nods. "Really," he says. Then: "Did Buck teach you about pinkie promises, yet?"
Theo's curls bob as he nods vigorously. "They're magic," he announces.
"Yeah, so-- I can pinkie promise that you don't make Buck sad. And I want you to stay, too."
Theo's eyes go wide as saucers. "Really?"
Chris holds out a pinkie, and Theo is terribly careful as he nudges closer to him, curls their fingers together. His pinkie is very small, around Christopher's. Chris shakes their hands slightly, and smiles when Theo giggles.
"You shouldn't throw stuff on the floor, though," he says, when they let go. "I-- I have crutches, so it's hard to walk around when things are rolling."
"Oh," Theo murmurs, like a revelation. "Okay!"
When dad and Buck come back in, not quite looking at each other, Theo hops off the sofa, takes a few pattering steps towards Buck, then turns back around.
"You can have this anyway," he announces, dropping a big plastic dinosaur into Christopher's startled lap. Buck stares at Chris as Theo runs back into his arms, swinging him up instinctively. Chris smiles back. Dad watches all of them, something careful and soft in his eyes.
For a moment, Chris thinks he can see the shape of it, this thing that they might be growing into. He hopes dad and Buck can see it soon. He thinks it might be something kind of beautiful.