CW: hypnosis, parental whumper, dubious parenting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Hey, buddy. Still up?" 

Thin metal creaked as Dad sat on the edge of his cot, the scrunch of his eyebrows telling Ben that "It's way past your bedtime, young man." 

"I'm not tired," he mumbled and stared back into the dark office, its walls only illuminated by the red sheen of a lava lamp. Blobs of plasma danced in soft lighting.

"After keeping four kids at bay all afternoon, you're not tired?" his dad laughed, "Somehow, I don't believe you."

But Ben simply shrugged, his pout a bit too melancholic for Shepard's liking. His hands now carded slowly through his son's curls, still a bit damp from washing the campfire smoke out of them tonight. Only one person had the power to thicken the peaceful calm between them. After a few minutes, Ben admitted it too: "I hope Luke's doing okay, I miss him." 

And Avery, though he felt glad no one could see him blush in the semi-dark.

"I do too, I missed both of you," Shepard mumbled, as if the thought squeezed all the air out of his chest, "Every day."

Ben's focus turned back to the radiant spheres of lava: joining, bouncing, fusing into each other. He couldn't stop thinking about his brother and how furious he surely was with him for coming back home to Dad, not until gentle fingers began tracing over his cheek, nose and down his nape. Melting into the touch, Ben's already unfocused eyes were caught in the mesmerizing flow of plasma.

"'m not tired." 

His dizzy head sank into the pillow, any protest getting smothered by cotton. The soft rhythm with which Ben's chest rose and fell, though, proved the opposite.

"Of course you're not."

Flickering lights always got him the best, and his dad knew it. With a warm kiss on his temple, another day together came to an end. 

"Good night."

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Then I remember that when I was about four I talked about running away to join the circus, because TV. Apparently my mother decided this was prime life-lesson material, and walked me to the front door, said 'fine', and left me out there for about five minutes, in the middle of the night, without another word. I remember getting as far as the sidewalk before just kind of standing there, no idea what to do, with the slow dawning realization that I had no idea what to do, and that being alone was terrifying.

Of course, after those five minutes she opened the door and let me back in, making sure to rub my poor decision in my face in a 'well, you won't be saying that again will you?' kind of way.

I can only imagine this is a portion of why I panic at being in a house alone overnight.