*Yn and Austin try to help their son, Jack when he gets into an abusive relationship with his girlfriend, Emma.* (PS: was inspired by a fanfic form @nicnak20 just so everyone knows. And yes happy to finally after a full year no fanfics to be writing again. And have more to come. Like the one with Elena Kampouris as the oc character face. And other stuff. Request are open. Thanks for reading. Grace šøš¤ššš»š©·.)
Austin and Yn shared a love that had been the quiet, steady anchor of their lives for decades. It wasn't a love built on grand gestures, but on countless small acts of kindness, shared laughter over morning coffee, knowing glances across a crowded room, and an unwavering devotion to each other and their family.
Austin, with his warm blue eyes and kind smile, possessed a gentle strength, protective yet patient. Yn, equally warm and wise, offered a calm understanding that could soothe any storm. Together, they had built a home filled with affection, a place where their son, Jack, had grown up feeling safe, cherished, and deeply loved.
Jack was their world. A bright, sensitive young man, he had inherited his parents' capacity for kindness and their thoughtful nature. When he navigated the usual bumps of adolescence and young adulthood, Austin and Yn were always there, offering guidance without judgment, support without smothering. Their bond was strong, woven with trust and open communication.
But lately, the threads of that bond felt strained. It started subtly, like a shift in the wind you barely notice until the leaves begin to fall out of season. Jack cancelled their usual Sunday dinner more often than not, always with a slightly flustered apology. His calls became shorter, his voice often tight with an unidentifiable tension. He seemed thinner, his shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible weight.
Austin noticed it first. His protective instincts, usually reserved for ensuring Yn never had to carry heavy groceries or felt cold on a chilly evening, now centered on Jack. "Have you noticed Jack isn't quite himself?" he'd asked Yn one evening, his brow furrowed with concern as they sat curled up on the sofa.
Yn nodded slowly, her kind eyes reflecting his worry. "Yes, I have. He seemsā¦ distracted. And tired. Whenever I ask if everything's okay, he just brushes it off."
Their son had been dating Emma for about six months. Initially, she had seemed charming, if a little intense. Austin and Yn had welcomed her into their home, trying to get to know her, but interactions were often cut short by Emma claiming they needed to leave or having a sudden "emergency." Emma dominated conversations when she was there, and Jack seemedā¦ smaller in her presence, quieter than his usual self.
The subtle signs escalated. Jack stopped mentioning his friends. His passion for his hobbies seemed to wane. One evening, Austin called him, and he could hear Emmaās voice in the background, sharp and critical, before Jack quickly ended the call, muttering, "Sorry, Dad, gotta go."
The worry deepened its roots in Austin and Yn's hearts. They talked late into the night, their voices low, sharing observations and fears. "He used to tell us everything," Austin said, his voice thick with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Even the silly stuff. Now it feels like there's a wall." "He's under a lot of pressure, Austin," Yn replied gently, using his name softly. "From something. Or someone."
Austin knew what she meant. They both suspected Emma was at the center of it. But how to help when Jack wouldn't open up? They knew aggressive questioning would only push him away. Their approach had to be built on the foundation of their relationship with him: love, patience, and unwavering support.
They started with small, non-pressuring gestures. Yn would text Jack simple messages: "Thinking of you, love you." Austin would drop by his apartment with his favorite homemade cookies, lingering only long enough for a brief chat, keeping the conversation light. They invited him over for dinner, making it clear there was no pressure if he couldn't make it. They just wanted him to know the door was always open.
Occasionally, Jack wouldĀ come over. These visits were bittersweet. They were grateful to see him, but the change was undeniable. He seemed anxious, checking his phone constantly. He'd make excuses for Emmaās behavior without prompting.
"Emma just gets a bit stressed," he'd say, or "She didn't mean it like that, she was just having a bad day." Austin and Yn would listen, their hearts aching, offering quiet affirmations like, "Relationships can be tough sometimes," or "It's important to feel respected and supported by your partner." They were planting seeds of thought, hoping they would eventually sprout.
One rainy Saturday afternoon, Jack showed up at their door unannounced. He looked utterly defeated, his jacket damp, his eyes red-rimmed. Austin was the first to reach him, his protective arm immediately going around his son's shoulders. "Jack? What is it, son?" Yn was right behind them, her hand immediately going to Jackās cheek. "Oh, sweetheart. Come inside. You're soaked."
They led him to the living room, sitting him down on the comfortable sofa between them. They didn't bombard him with questions. They simply sat, one on each side, offering a silent, comforting presence. Austin gently rubbed his arm; Yn held his hand.
Jack finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "Sheā¦ she said things, Mom. Dad. Terrible things." Austinās grip tightened reassuringly. "What kind of things, son?" Jack swallowed hard, tears welling up again. "She says I'm useless. That I'm lucky to be with her, because no one else would put up with me. She reads my texts, checks my call history. If I talk to you guys for too long, she gets angry. She says I love you more than her, and that's not fair." He choked back a sob. "She makes me feel likeā¦ like everything is my fault. LikeĀ I'mĀ the problem."
The words were a punch to Austin and Yn's gut, but they didn't show their shock or anger. This was the moment they had waited for, the moment Jack was finally reaching out. They needed to be his safe harbor.
"Oh, Jack," Yn said softly, her voice filled with profound sadness and boundless love. "That's not right, sweetheart. None of that is okay." Austin nodded slowly, his jaw tight, but his voice remained calm and steady. "Jack, listen to me. You are a wonderful, kind, intelligent young man. You are not useless. You are more than enough. Any partner should make you feel uplifted and loved, not torn down."
Jack finally broke down, weeping openly between them. Austin held him close, stroking his hair, the protective instinct overwhelming but tempered with patience. Yn held his hand, offering quiet comfort. They let him cry, letting the dam break.
When the sobs subsided, leaving him weary and emotionally drained, Austin spoke again. "Jack, this sounds likeā¦ this sounds like she's being abusive, son. Emotionally and verbally." Jack flinched at the word "abusive," as if it were a label he hadn't dared apply. "Iā¦ I don't know. Maybe I'm justā¦ too sensitive?"
"No," Yn said firmly, though her tone was gentle. "Feeling hurt by cruel words and controlling behavior isn't being too sensitive, Jack. It's a normal reaction to being mistreated. A loving partner doesn't tear you down. They build you up."
They spent the next few hours talking. Austin and Yn didn't push for details he wasn't ready to share, but they affirmed his feelings, validated his experiences, and slowly, carefully, helped him see the pattern of control and manipulation Emma was using. They spoke about healthy relationships, contrasting the respect and equality he deserved with the demeaning treatment he was receiving.
"It's hard," Jack mumbled, looking down at his hands. "I feel soā¦ dependent on her, somehow. Like I can't do anything without her approval." "That's what abuse does, Jack," Austin said, his large hand covering his son's. "It erodes your confidence, makes you doubt yourself. But that's notĀ you. That's her influence. You are strong, son. You just need to remember that."
They didn't demand he break up with Emma immediately. They knew the decision had to be his, arrived at in his own time. Their role was to empower him, remind him of his worth, and provide a safety net.
They talked about what leaving might look like, offering practical help. "You can stay here, for as long as you need," Yn said immediately, her eyes warm and inviting. "Your room is always ready. There's no rush, no pressure. Just know you have a safe place to land." Austin added, "We can help you figure things out. Setting boundaries, getting your things, whatever you need. We'll be with you every step of the way."
The next few days were fragile. Jack stayed with them. He was quiet, introspective, wrestling with the enormity of the situation. Austin and Yn moved around him gently, keeping the atmosphere calm and supportive. They made his favorite meals, watched movies together without demanding conversation, and simplyĀ wereĀ there.
One morning, Jack came downstairs looking resolute, though still pale. "I need to do it," he said, his voice stronger. "I need to end it." Relief washed over Austin and Yn, but they kept their expressions calm for Jackās sake. "Okay, son," Austin said, putting an arm around him. "How can we help?"
They helped him plan it out safely. They advised himĀ notĀ to do it in person, knowing Emmaās potential for volatile reaction. They helped him draft a clear, concise message stating his decision, advising him not to get drawn into arguments or explanations afterward. They sat with him while he sent it, offering silent strength.
The fallout was difficult, as they had anticipated. Emma flooded his phone with angry, manipulative, and pleading messages. Austin and Yn helped him block her number, explaining that cutting contact was crucial for his healing. They supported him as he contacted friends he had lost touch with, helping him rebuild his support system outside of his family.
The healing process was slow, marked by ups and downs. There were days when Jack felt strong and confident, and days when the doubt and emotional scars resurfaced. Austin and Yn were constants through it all. Austin, with his protective nature, subtly buffered Jack from external stresses, ensuring he had space to recover. Yn, with her gentle patience, listened endlessly, validating his pain and reminding him of his resilience.
They encouraged him to talk to a therapist, helping him find a good match. "It helps to talk to someone impartial, sweetheart," Yn explained gently. "Someone who can give you tools to process everything and rebuild your sense of self." Jack agreed, and therapy became an important part of his recovery.
Slowly, tentatively, Jack began to rediscover himself. He picked up his old hobbies, reconnected with friends, and started to laugh more genuinely. The tightness in his voice disappeared, replaced by the familiar, warm tone they knew and loved.
One evening, several months later, they were having dinner together ā a relaxed, happy meal full of easy conversation and comfortable silence. Jack looked across the table at his parents, his eyes filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you guys," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so lost. So convinced I was the problem."
Austin reached across the table and covered Jackās hand with his. "You are never a problem, son. You are our son. And we love you, unconditionally." Yn smiled, her eyes glistening slightly. "Your only job was to heal, Jack. Ours was simply to remind you how loved you are, and that you deserve so much more than that."
The ordeal had been painful, a test of their family's strength. But it had also reinforced the deep, unbreakable bonds of love and devotion that held them together.
Austin and Yn watched their son continue to heal, proud of his resilience and grateful that their steady, patient love had been the light that guided him back to himself. Their home remained a sanctuary, a testament to the enduring power of kindness, understanding, and the fierce, quiet strength of a family united by love.
