Friday at the sandbox - Part 4 "blood, sweat and tears"
Part 4 of the ongoing one-shot...
Summary - Modern day AU/AU. Ennis, Jack, kids, a playground, coffee and donuts...
Warnings - a little blood in this one. Nothing serious, so hopefully not too squicky!
Length - c400 words
Feedback - yes please!
Jack has just introduced himself to the father of the little blonde girl...
“DADDEEEE!”
Before my man has time to answer, the shriek from the sandbox makes us both jump. Junior is leaping about in a panic and pointing at my boy in horror.
Bobby has turned white and is holding his hand out in front of him.
I rush over and grab his arm - there is blood dripping from a finger and he is clasping a sharp stick in the other hand. “What have you done?” I ask. Possibly a touch too sharply.
He opens his mouth to explain, but then his blue eyes fill up and I see him take a deep breath, ready to howl.
“Never mind. Come on bud.” I say quickly. I pick him up under his arms. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” I shoot an apologetic look at my new friend. “Sorry. Better go. See you next week?”
“Sure.” He nods.
As I carry a snivelling Bobby to the car, Junior and her dad watch me go. I wave with my free hand and they both wave back. I can’t stop a little pang of regret at our early exit, but my boy is still my priority. I sit him on the tailgate of our car and rummage behind the front seats for the old first aid kit I flung in there god knows how long ago. I find some sterile wipes and a band aid and go about fixing Bobby’s hand. Fortunately it’s not too bad.
I watch Junior and her dad return to the sandbox. He is still drinking my spare latte and that makes me smile. I like that he has something of mine - however temporarily.
Bobby sees me watching and wants to go back and play. Tempted though I am I don’t want to risk infection, or another trauma, and I do need to get him home soon. I promise him we’ll come early next week. Yes, with coffee and cake again. Yes, cake for him this time too. Yes, a chocolate donut. With sprinkles.
I sigh and swing the car out onto the road, catching one last glimpse of them as we turn away. He is watching me. Still.
“He’s nice.” Bobby cranes his neck around and looks back at the sandbox.
“What?” I say in surprise.
“Juno’s daddy.”
“You mean Junior?”
“Yeah. He’s got a funny name too.”
“Really? Can you remember it?” I watch him in the rear-view mirror. Waiting.
He taps his chin, trying hard to remember. “Um… no.”
I let out my breath. “Oh. Ok.” My son. Memory like a goldfish. “How’s the hand, bud?”
****
Summary - Modern day AU/AU. Ennis, Jack, kids, a playground, coffee and donuts...
Warnings - a little blood in this one. Nothing serious, so hopefully not too squicky!
Length - c400 words
Feedback - yes please!
Jack has just introduced himself to the father of the little blonde girl...
“DADDEEEE!”
Before my man has time to answer, the shriek from the sandbox makes us both jump. Junior is leaping about in a panic and pointing at my boy in horror.
Bobby has turned white and is holding his hand out in front of him.
I rush over and grab his arm - there is blood dripping from a finger and he is clasping a sharp stick in the other hand. “What have you done?” I ask. Possibly a touch too sharply.
He opens his mouth to explain, but then his blue eyes fill up and I see him take a deep breath, ready to howl.
“Never mind. Come on bud.” I say quickly. I pick him up under his arms. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” I shoot an apologetic look at my new friend. “Sorry. Better go. See you next week?”
“Sure.” He nods.
As I carry a snivelling Bobby to the car, Junior and her dad watch me go. I wave with my free hand and they both wave back. I can’t stop a little pang of regret at our early exit, but my boy is still my priority. I sit him on the tailgate of our car and rummage behind the front seats for the old first aid kit I flung in there god knows how long ago. I find some sterile wipes and a band aid and go about fixing Bobby’s hand. Fortunately it’s not too bad.
I watch Junior and her dad return to the sandbox. He is still drinking my spare latte and that makes me smile. I like that he has something of mine - however temporarily.
Bobby sees me watching and wants to go back and play. Tempted though I am I don’t want to risk infection, or another trauma, and I do need to get him home soon. I promise him we’ll come early next week. Yes, with coffee and cake again. Yes, cake for him this time too. Yes, a chocolate donut. With sprinkles.
I sigh and swing the car out onto the road, catching one last glimpse of them as we turn away. He is watching me. Still.
“He’s nice.” Bobby cranes his neck around and looks back at the sandbox.
“What?” I say in surprise.
“Juno’s daddy.”
“You mean Junior?”
“Yeah. He’s got a funny name too.”
“Really? Can you remember it?” I watch him in the rear-view mirror. Waiting.
He taps his chin, trying hard to remember. “Um… no.”
I let out my breath. “Oh. Ok.” My son. Memory like a goldfish. “How’s the hand, bud?”
****