Broken Soles

 

Summary- John tries to raise two kids alone while juggling a job that keeps him away from home for days.

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John woke up in degrees, feeling the questionable softness of the scratchy sheets and the light flooding the room from the windows that was obvious even with his eyes closed. He could hear the muted sound of the TV playing somewhere in the house and the periodic turning of pages and he relaxed; enjoying the brief spell of domesticity. Eventually it was five more minutes before he stepped out of the room.

Emmy, as expected; was bent over a book at the dining table while Evan sat on the couch carefully repairing the heel of his boot.

Wait; what??? Didn’t he give the boy money just last week to buy the stuff they needed?

“Mornin’, Dad. Coffee’s on the counter,” His eldest greeted.

John nodded, swiping a cup of the hot brew for himself as he went to sit next to his eldest. Evan obediently switched off the TV and turned to him askance.

John’s heart clenched briefly at how his children just expected him to ‘order’ them and even though Evan had never complained or protested the treatment; the fact that he didn’t expect anything else hurt something inside John. Cassandra- his late wife, would have been furious with him if she could see them now...

He offered an awkward smile and sent her a silent apology as he sat back, hoping to convey what he couldn’t put in words and Evan took his cue; returning his attention to the shoe he was repairing.

“Money not enough for a new pair?” He managed to ask as casually as he was able.

“Emily needed a book for her class,” Evan offered as an excuse and John felt his heart shatter at the knowledge that he hadn’t- that he couldn’t- provide enough for his kids to be able to afford a book AND a shoe. He wondered if his kids inwardly resented him for it; but judging from Evan’s serene expression, such hardships were barely more than a blip on his radar.

And no wonder; Evan was seventeen, but he had already taken on the responsibility of someone much older with the way he handled their finances and was virtually raising Emmy. Sure, he was around but the onus was- and had been - on Evan.

He took a closer look at the shoe and realized that it had to be at least one size too small for his boy.

“Does it still fit you?” He asked, wanting to see how he responded.

“It’s- uh... it’s a little tight,” Evan admitted with a shrug.

‘Little tight’, right. And their Cruiser- the only thing of value left behind from ‘before’, was nothing but a toy-car.

He shook his head at this fresh evidence of his kid’s big heart; sure, he had wanted Evan to take care of Emmy, but he hadn’t expected the boy to take his ‘job’ to this extent either. He wondered if Emily even realized how lucky she was- they were- to have Evan.

“You should put yourself first sometimes, Kiddo; walkin’ in them boots can affect your growth,” He told the boy; proud that he was able to maintain a steady tone.

Evan glanced at him sharply at that; gaze searching his eyes for something though John couldn’t imagine what.

“Emmy, why don’t you go grab us some grub from Funky Town?” Evan called.

 John frowned at the abrupt change in topic and at the way Emily’s head jerked up at Evan’s words. However, to his surprise; his youngest didn’t argue like she had been prone to over the last few months and simply nodded.

Busy watching Emily, he didn’t notice Evan moving; and ended up spluttering in disbelief when his oldest splashed him. He was still spitting out the few droplets he’d swallowed when a sharp bite of pain across his forearm had him reacting defensively on instinct; and feeling proud of his boy’s swift reflexes when Evan neatly evaded the move. It was only the release of the safety catch from his Glock (and wasn’t that just the icing on the cake- having his own gun pointed at him?) that had him understanding the seriousness of the situation, “Evan? Son?”

“I’m not your son, you- whatever-you-are!” Evan growled out, the gun in his hand never wavering, “So you’re not a ‘shifter and not a demon. What are you?”

Confusion had him frowning, “I’m your father,”

Evan snorted, the Glock still frighteningly steady in his hand, “Nice try; quoting Star Wars,”

John cocked his head- the surprise from the attack  finally fading as the pieces fell into place: he really needed to make sure that his kids stopped watching that supernatural-themed show on the tele. Now that he knew what was happening, he turned deceptively casual as he leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees, “What makes you think I’m not?”

 And before Evan could respond, John was up and disarming the kid before someone got seriously injured, twisting the boy’s hand behind his back in a painful hold to make him cease struggling.

Evan growled and spit expletives till he realized that he was only injuring himself with his moves and then went still, “What do you want?”

John bit back his smile at the knowledge that even the threat of breaking his arm wasn’t enough to force his son into compliance and the fact that the boy had had the foresight to send his sister out to summon back-up.

“Where did you send Emmy?”

“As if I’d tell you!”

He twisted Evan’s arm further, regretting the pain he was causing the boy but happy to have this chance at an impromptu training session. “Last chance, Son. Where did you send Emily?”

Green eyes glittered with suppressed rage as his boy twisted in his hold to glance at him. John made the mistake of loosening his grip slightly, making the mistake of assuming Evan would try to head-butt him and was taken aback at the face full of spit he got instead; hand instinctively coming up to wipe the saliva of his face. He regretted the action a second later when Evan jerked out of his hold and kicked at his knee before rounding on him again. It was pure luck that allowed John to grab the teenager before he could retrieve the gun he’d tossed to the side.

Evan struggled like a wildcat and John was forced to tighten his grasp to stop the flailing limbs from injuring either one of them. “Calm. Down.”

Evan froze at the tone.

“It’s me, I promise.” John reiterated, “Not a demon.” Thank heavens he had watched that one episode that showed how a ‘real person’ acted versus a demon pretending to be one.

Evan nodded haltingly.

“Am I going to get punched if I release you?”

A reluctant head shake.

“Good boy,”

And John released him, holding his breath to see whether Evan kept his word. But if there was one thing he could always count on, it was his son’s determination to keep his family safe, and he knew Evan wouldn’t risk hurting him on the off-chance it really was him.

True to prediction, Evan slithered out of his hold to move out of his arm’s range the moment he released him but didn’t fight him. John raised his hands- palm outwards- in a placating manner. “It’s me, son. Do you believe me?”

Green eyes glimmered with mistrust, but the boy didn’t attack; instead he offered a flask, “Drink.”

John nodded his acceptance, complying without complaint. He was surprised at first when he found it to be plain water before remembering that the demons on the show were unable to consume normal human food and drink. It was only once he was satisfied that John had swallowed that his oldest relaxed, the tension bleeding from his shoulders like it had never been there.

“Dad?”

“It’s me.” He confirmed, accepting the stilted embrace and trying not to notice Evan’s wince as he moved his right arm. Apparently he’d sprained it during their tussle.

“So, who do I need to call and inform that they’re not actually needed?”

Evan blinked in confusion, “Huh?”

John narrowed his eyes, “You didn’t send Emmy to get back-up?”

His oldest hunched in on himself like he had committed some grave offence, “No, Sir.”

He nodded- so capable but God, his boy was still so achingly young!- “What was the plan, then?”

“Sir?”

“The plan?” John prodded.

“To keep Emmy safe,”

John swallowed down the bile that rose as understanding hit that his son had offered himself up as a bait in order to keep the perceived threat from his younger sister. His voice was gruff as he managed a ‘Good job, son’- barely succeeding in hiding his tears when the seventeen-year old blushed at the praise as though risking his life was nothing to be proud about.

“Let’s go grab a bite, shall we?”

Evan gave a stilted nod as though he still couldn’t believe John had praised him.

“I’m assuming you know where Emmy is?”

“Yeah,” A tiny grin appeared at the mention of his sister and John found himself hoping that his kids never lost this closeness.

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Emily glanced between the two of them suspiciously and John knew she would be quizzing Evan about it later but joined them amiably enough at the mention of burgers. He allowed his children to enter the restaurant ahead of himself and suppressed a smile when both kids instinctively scoped the place the moment they entered and he knew they would be able to name all the exits and that they had chosen the table that offered them the best vantage point. He had taught them some of what he’d learnt during his time in the military and both his children had taken to it like fish to water. He watched as they piled into the bench seat next to one another leaving the couch opposite for John.

“So,” John broke the silence, glancing briefly at the menu, “What’s good in this place?”

He watched his children hesitate briefly and Evan take a quick look around to see what the other patrons were eating before meeting his gaze, “Burgers?”

It had been a swift check; and anybody else would have missed it, but John knew better. He only found himself questioning the ‘why’ behind it: hadn’t his children been eating here while he was away?... Not that he was proud of it, but his work didn’t allow him to spend long stretches at home. So he always tried to ensure that there was at least one diner close-by to wherever their current address was.

 

Rather than voice his doubts though, John decided to play along, “Sure,”

 

Order placed, he questioned the children on what had been happening and they filled him in, ribbing each other lightly as they spoke and John relaxed in the casual atmosphere. Conversation was forgotten once the food arrived though and he found his stomach rumbling its approval as the aroma of cheese and meat-patties wafted up from his plate. His eyes closed of their own volition as he savoured that first bite after days of surviving on the stale day-old sandwiches from Gas and Sip- God, but this burger was good!

He opened his eyes and he saw his youngest practically inhaling the food. He grinned, “Good?”

Emily shrugged, “I guess,”

John snorted, “You guess,”

His youngest’s eyes flashed defensively, “It’s not as good as Evan’s; but considering that it’s a diner? Yeah, I guess it’s good.”

 

John didn’t know which part of that statement bothered him more- the tone or the content. In the end he decided to ask the obvious, “Evan cooks?”

The tips of his eldest’s ears flushed a dull red as he blushed and it was only then that John noticed that instead of gobbling his burger the way Emily and he had done, Evan had been taking measured bites; chewing carefully and eating slowly.

“You okay, son?” Worry spiked instantly- it wasn’t like Evan to push food around on his plate.

“Yes, Sir.” Evan answered at the same time that Emily’s stomach rumbled loud enough for it draw all their attention, the young girl blushing a bright red in embarrassment.

“Still hungry?” Evan asked softly enough that John only knew what he’d said by lip-reading.

The younger child shrugged lightly.

“Here,” Evan pushed his half-eaten burger towards his sister, “I swear you’ve got hollow legs, dude!”

And John abruptly lost his appetite- neither of his children had even considered asking him for more. He took a closer look at the two and noticed how lean they had grown.

Evan had shot up a couple of inches and the boy was just beginning to grow into his height, but he was still so slender... a growing-boy still. And Emmy... Emily had grown too, was nearing her brother’s height already even though she was four years his junior. Neither had a starved look but both could do with some fattening up.

“Finish your food, Evan,” John told him and hid his wince as he realized how harsh his tone had sounded.

Obviously his boy took it as the reprimand it wasn’t: “I’m full, Dad,”

“Dad’s right, Evan. You should eat,” Emily put in and John watched in amusement as the older sibling snapped a low ‘Shut it, Emily’.

“Emmy needs to eat, Sir,” He told John earnestly.

John nodded, torn between pride and sorrow at the understanding that his younger sister’s welfare was never far from Evan’s mind... But who watched out for Evan?

He smiled in satisfaction as both children looked flabbergasted when John put in a second order for more burgers for all three of them and a side of fries. “Happy now?”

Evan’s smile could have powered a small town with its brightness and John felt a pang of regret as his oldest finally started tucking in on the food like he should have all along.

“Now... what’s this I hear about you cooking, Evie?”

“It’s Evan, Dad,” His oldest protest the childhood nickname even as he explained, “ It’s just that it’s cheaper than eating out every day,” Evan admitted and John wondered at the defensiveness he saw flare in those green eyes.

“And healthier,” He agreed, hoping to convey that he wasn’t angry or starting to think less of his son because he knew how to cook.

“Tastier too,” Emily mumbled from behind her burger and yelped when Evan elbowed her.

“Guess you’ll have to treat me to your cooking sometime so that I can be the judge of that,”

Evan nodded, “I could do something tonight... unless you’re leaving already?”

“No, tonight sounds good. What’re you planning to cook?”

“Pasta with meatballs sound good?”

“Perfect. We need to pick up anything for it?”

“A few things,” Evan nodded, “I can come back later for them though,”

“Nah, we can pick ‘em up on the way back itself. It’s cool.”

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 “You know, I’ll have to go with your sister on this one: this is quality stuff,” John found himself admitting later that day as he sampled his eldest’s culinary skills for the first time, “Where’d you learn to cook like this, Evie?”

Evan’s ears turned a dull red at the praise, “Home Economics,”

John sobered, “I thought you were in Workshop?”

His boy was so good with his hands, why hadn’t he opted for the easier option?

“I saw they taught basic culinary skills and a few other things in Home Ec at this school. Figured it would be good for Emmy to have home-cooked meals every once in awhile. Besides I can always switch when we transfer.”

John took in the way Emily’s eyes moved away as Evan answered, apparently Emmy had known.

 

“What else did you learn?” He asked, heart clenching at the knowledge that his oldest had chosen a subject to be a better provider for Emmy. He wondered what it said about him that he was grateful for Evan’s devotion to his baby sister and remembering how he had encouraged such behaviour.

“In Home Ec?” Evan asked suspiciously.

“Um hmm,” John wished he was open enough with his kids to ask whether he’d been teased at school for his choice... because Home ec was definitely not what complimented Evan’s macho-male image. Though to be honest, he supposed no one would have even guessed why his son had chosen it.

“Needle work,” Emily answered before Evan.

John nodded, noticing the tiny -neat- barely discernible stitches at Emily’s shoulder and pocket; realizing for the first time that for children who were shooting up almost an inch a day, he hadn’t had to buy clothes as often as he probably should have. He jerked his chin towards Emmy’s shirt, “Your work?”

Evan nodded silently.

Emily glared daggers at him, apparently expecting him to ridicule Evan’s efforts and looked suitably chastised when he all he said was a ‘good job’ instead.

 

Not for the first time John found himself questioning what he would’ve done without Evan. Evan who was the peacemaker of their little unit; who ‘did what they did and shut up about it’ without expecting a word of acknowledgement or thanks in return. Who was the only reason he was still sane and Emmy still as innocent as she was.

Maybe he placed too much responsibility on those slender shoulders. Maybe he expected too much... but his boy was yet to let him down even once.

Evan automatically rose to gather the dishes once they were all done and John grabbed his wrist to halt him. “The one who doesn’t cook does the dishes, boy; your mom’s rule.”

Evan’s eyes flicked up in surprise at that; it was so rare for him to even mention Cassandra that neither of his children had outgrown being awed into silence at even the most casual reference to her. So which at any other time might have resulted in a snarky retort was a simple ‘really?’ this time around.

“Yup,” John grinned as he stood, “Emmy, you wanna dry or wash?”

“But- but I helped Evan!” His youngest protested even as she got to her feet.

John ruffled her brown curls as they moved to the kitchen, catching Evan staring after them for a long moment before he moved to the couch. They were such great kids, John thought to himself, he really ought to begin appreciating them more.

“Hey, Evan?” He called,

“Yeah, Dad?” His oldest was at the door in the blink of an eye.

He tossed him his wallet, “Get yourself some new shoes tomorrow,”

 

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The End.