*sneaks some Haninan fic for @scurvgirlâs new Miss Honey AU onto the pile and flees*
Haninan is thinking about Kassaranâs recent venting on the subject of bad fathers, when one of his students - Venavismi - accidentally spills a carton of pencil crayons across the classroom floor during the middle of art time.
 Haninan heads over, of course, as Vena drops to the floor and starts picking up scattered pencils.
 âIâm sorry!â the boy says. âI didnât mean to, Iâm sorry!â
 Something about the way Vena apologizes always makes Haninan worry. Most of the time, Venavismi is the sort of child who would prefer to joke and lighten the mood. But every once in a while, when he gets tired, he starts apologizing, and thereâs always a frantic edge to it that makes it clear he expects some kind of disproportionate retribution to rain down on him. An edge that lends itself very readily to tears, which only seem to provoke more apologies.
 Venaâs parents are the wealthiest that Haninan regularly deals with, apart from his own wife, of course. Ireth doesnât know much about them, herself, except that they run in different circles. The last conference, Haninan talked to them about Venaâs extra curricular activities, because heâs been worried for a while now that the poor child has too many. He has the same piano teacher as June, and heâs in gymnastics, and one of the elven language classes, and beginnerâs fencing. Haninanâs pretty sure heâs in more, too, given some things heâs overheard, but Venaâs parents are very⌠adamant that heâs only âmeeting his potentialâ and not being over-extended.
 Bad parents come in all shapes and sizes, Haninan has learned. Violence and neglect are by no means easy to deal with, but at least they have answers - even when those answers are difficult to actual reach. Thereâs very little anyone can do about parents who veer too strongly in the opposite direction, though.
 âItâs alright, Vena,â he assures the boy, reaching down to ruffle his hair and, when that gets a little sigh of relief, plucking him up to put him back in his seat. âThis isnât too big of a mess, really. Iâll take care of it while you get back to your drawing.â
 He glances at the paper and sees that Vena was in the middle of filling in a blue sky, and picks up the blue pencil crayon, first, to give to him. Vena clutches it with a look of concern on his face for a moment, before he calms down enough to manage a smile.
 âOkay,â he agrees. âSorry, Mister Haninan!â
 âApology accepted. It was an accident, after all,â Haninan assures him, before easily scooping up the rest of the pencil crayons. Fitting them back into their box is only slightly more challenging, but he manages it. Heâs had a lot of practice; June enjoys drawing, but cleaning up after himself is an entirely different matter.
 Class manages to get all the way to the end of the drawing period without anything more dramatic than Venaâs spilled pencil crayons, which Haninan counts as an overall win. Thereâs a bit of a struggle during Quiet Reading Time, when Ash gets impatient with her book and starts whispering with her seatmate, but Haninan is expecting it and comes over to help her go through a few passages and get her to settle down again. To her credit, Ash doesnât try and get out of her seat this time, or ask to go to the bathroom again.
 When the day ends, Haninan gives his students their preferred high-fives or hugs, as the parents come to get them. Vena gives him his drawing from art time as a present, which Haninan enthuses over before he puts it in the special folder in his desk. Ash and June hang out with him and help clean up the classroom - when theyâre arenât busy chasing one another around the desks - until Kassaran arrives, with her usual bevy of thanks and apologies. It doesnât seem to matter how many times Haninan has assured her itâs no trouble. His post-class wrap-up always takes longer than hers, if only because he has June for it, too.
 When Ash and her mother are gone, though, itâs time for Haninan and June to head home as well.
 âPapae?â June asks him, halfway back to the house.
 âHm?â Haninan replies.
 âAre fathers different from papaes?â
 Haninan blinks, and wonders if heâs been neglecting his sonâs word comprehension lately.
 âNo,â he says. âFather and papae are different words for the same thing. What makes you ask?â
 He glances at his son in the rearview mirror. June shifts in his safety seat, and shrugs.
 âIt just seems different,â he says. âAsh says her father wasnât like you, but she didnât want to talk about it. And I overheard her mama saying something about bad fathers. And Vena calls his papae âfatherâ and I remember he said his father doesnât play puzzles with him, so I was just wondering if there was a difference.â
 Haninan sighs.
 âNot really,â he admits. âTheir fathers are just different people from me, June-bug. So they treat their children differently, too.â
 June nods, and seems satisfied with that explanation. Haninan supposes the discussion is done with, and when they pull into the driveway itâs right after Ireth seems to have just done the same. So June hurries out of the car and goes racing off to her, giggling as she beams at him and scoops him up, and spins him around.
 âDid you have a good day, sweetheart?â she asks him.
 âWellll, yes and no,â June tells her, and then heâs off, listing the âgoodâ (got to read out loud to the class at the end of Quiet Reading Time today) and the âbadâ (didnât get to use the monkey bars at recess because some of the other kids were playing Fortress on them). Haninan scoops up his bag from the backseat and wanders over a more leisurely pace, feeling the familiar swell of affection in his breast at the sight of his wife and son. He moves in to interrupt June so that he can steal a kiss, though. Which his son huffs at, until Haninan turns and starts peppering kisses on his own cheeks, too.
 âEw, Papae, no!â he protests, laughing and squirming. âGo back to kissing Mamae.â So saying, he plants a hand on Haninanâs cheek, and pointedly turns his face back towards Ireth.
 âWell, if you insist,â Haninan jokes, before leaning in and doing just that. June makes more protests and squirms until Ireth puts him down. She smiles against Haninanâs lips, and, with her arms free, settles them over his shoulders, before giving him a proper full-on kiss.
 âWe probably shouldnât make-out in the driveway,â she tells him.
 âAs if our neighbours havenât seen it all by now,â he scoffs, which gets an amused snort from her, before she finally lets him go. June is at the front door, rolling his eyes and looking so exaggeratedly impatient that Haninan wishes he could take a picture. His phoneâs in his bag, though, and by the time heâs got it unzipped, Ireth has taken pity on their poor child and is letting him into the house.
 âI want peanut butter cups for my snack!â June announces, dashing inside.
 âOh woe is me,â Haninan gripes, lurching his own way through the door and making a show of lugging Juneâs bag as if it carries a hundred pounds. âI guess Iâll just make my own way, here, carrying everything. If only I had a son who could help me. Alas, alasâŚâ
 His theatrics earn an aggravated sigh, as June reluctantly turns and heads back towards him, and gives him a very Ireth-esque look before taking his bag.
 âMy hero,â Haninan praises.
 June gives his mother a beseeching look. She just shrugs at him, though.
 âGo put your bag away, and Iâll see if we have any peanut butter cups,â she instructs.
 âItâs not even heavy,â June says, but does as told, kicking off his shoes and then rolling his eyes again when Haninan reminds him to put them where they go, please and thank you. He settles his own bag by the door, while Ireth kicks off her shoes in a near-perfect imitation of their son. Haninan raises his eyebrows at her, and she sheepishly puts them on the rack, too.
 âI still canât believe Iâm the tidy one in this family,â he muses, ruefully.
 âOrganized, not tidy. Iâve seen you cook,â Ireth reminds him. âAnd dress. And who still has a fifty-billion piece puzzle taking up the better part of the dining room, hm?â
 âJune does,â Haninan shamelessly insists. Which is half true, considering that theyâve been assembling it together. Itâs been slower going than he expected, though, since June keeps getting frustrated, and then they have to stop. Not that he minds it - June seems to mind it more than he does - but⌠well, anyway. Theyâll get it done, and then they can seal it and put it on Juneâs wall, just as Haninan promised.
 âMY BAG IS AWAY!â June announces, before pelting into the living room to turn on the television.
 âTwo shows, then you have to start homework!â Haninan reminds him.
 âChoose wisely, my son! Iâll get your snack,â Ireth adds.
 âAre you sure? I can get it for him,â Haninan offers, eyeing the work clothes that he knows his wife hates. Ireth just waves it off, though.
 âI want to,â she assures him.
 With a nod of acceptance, Haninan veers his way up to their bedroom, and sets about changing his own clothes. He pulls on a comfortable sweater and exchanges his trousers for leggings, letting out a breath as he gets his socks off, and then wriggling his toes in the carpet a little. He heads for the bathroom to wash up, and hears the distinctive theme song of one of Juneâs favourite shows drift up from the floor below.
 As he runs the water, though, his thoughts sink a little as they drift towards the subject of Ashokaraâs father.
 Haninan knows the patterns that can often lead people to become monsters. Parenting can be stressful, and thankless, and demands endless patience, and heâs intimately aware of that even as he loves it beyond measure. But for people who donât have that drive? That love for being a parent, for looking after their child? He can see where it brings out the worst of them. Especially when they have no tools to cope well with even adult relationships.
 Most of the time, heâs noticed, itâs about control. Abused children are often well-behaved children - until they arenât. Theyâre frightened into obedience, neglected into maturity, starved into desperation for approval and dreadfully aware of their own vulnerability. And when they no longer have to be afraid, itâs always an adjustment for them to figure out where the boundaries of their world should even be. Heâd noticed the signs with Ashokara, when she first came to his class. The way she would always hesitate when he asked her a question, as if she was trying to figure out what he wanted her to answer with. How she would watch his hands whenever he was close by, as if she was nervous that he might suddenly try and grab her. The way she froze up the first time he clapped to get the classâ attention.
 Kassaran had talked to him after class on that first day. Which was difficult for her, Haninan knew. She was ashamed - not of her daughter, not at all, but of the fact that her daughter had come to harm. And of having to explain some of what she herself had gone through, in order to explain what Ash was struggling with.
 Haninan hadnât pried any more than was strictly required.
 They were getting away from it. And now, itâs rearing up again. A pattern that threatens to become a cycle, if it isnât adequately broken. Haninan has every faith in Kass and Ashâs ability to push through a lot of hard things, but that doesnât mean he wants to see them do it. Or stand idly by while it happens, either.
 He might understand the patterns, but heâll never excuse someone who mistreats their child.
 The tap is still running when Ireth comes into the room. He watches through the mirror, and the open crack of the door, as she changes into a loose green dress, and then flops onto the end of the bed.
 âIâm on call,â she informs him, raising her voice a little until he turns off the tap. She pats her phone demonstrably, and then shoves it into one of her dress pockets.
 Haninan shuffles his way back out of the bathroom, and then slumps onto the bed beside her.
 âIâll keep my fingers crossed that there are no emergencies, then,â he says.
 Ireth reaches over, flailing a bit until she finds his cheek, and pats it.
 âHelluva a day,â she says, letting out a gusty breath. âThere was another chicken pox outbreak. Poor things.â
 Haninan makes a sound of sympathetic agreement.
 âWhat about you?â she asks him.
 He hesitates, for a moment. But then, heâs never really been good at keeping anything for her, especially when heâs not even certain he should try.
 âAshokaraâs father is suing for joint custody,â he says.
 Ireth sits up.
 âNo,â she objects.
 âAfraid so. Kassaran came in and told me the other day.â They probably would have talked about it then, but thereâd been a ten car pile-up some time around three pm, and Ireth had been out late helping with the sudden emergency rush. So Haninan and June had made toasties and worked on the puzzle together, and by the time sheâd managed to get home, sheâd had her own work woes to spill and had been in sore need of a shoulder to cry on.
 Which Haninan was more than happy to provide. On that thought he gives her another look-over now. But she seems to be bouncing back, and isntâ giving the usual indications that she needs him to help. Her concern - verging on anger - looks like the normal kind, for this sort of situation.
 âYou tell Kassaran that if worse comes to worse and he actually gets it, I will personally help her hide the body,â she announces.
 âIâll be sure to pass that along, darling,â Haninan replies. âBut the main concern for right now is that Ash is going to have to explain to a judge why she doesnât want to live with her father.â
 Ireth frowns, and glares at the ceiling for a good long moment.
 â...Well what if we kill him before that?â she suggests.
 He sighs.
 âIreth, beloved, light of my life, you donât even kill spiders when they get in through the bathroom drain,â he points out. Not that Haninan kills them, either. But still. They are not exactly murderous folk. He still remembers the first time June went over to a friendâs sleepover and called for Ireth to come get him, because one of the parents had killed a moth that came in through the window, and June was convinced that the man had to be some kind of secret killer âlike on televisionâ.
 âSpiders donât abuse people,â Ireth retorts, folding her arms.
 But after a moment, she gives in, and just slumps back down against him.
 âPoor Ash and Kass,â she murmurs.
 âI know,â he agrees, with a sigh of his own.
 âWe should do something.â
 âWe should.â
 "...Do you think theyâd like a fruit basket?â she ventures, tentatively. âOr maybe one of those fresh farm hampers? I canât imagine Kass will feel like preparing a lot of meals while sheâs dealing with all of this.â
 âCouldnât hurt,â Haninan reasons. He plans on doing his best to help Ash in her classes, to give some extra attention and support. But still. Sometimes itâs good to have a friendâs spouse who absolutely insists on sending fancy gift baskets, which she has no idea of the actual material worth of, except that they be âgoodâ. He still remembers the look on Kassaranâs face the first time Ireth gave her a bottle of wine for the school districtâs Feast Day party.
 âIâm going to send them something,â Ireth decides. âItâll be a good distraction anyway. Should I put who itâs from on the card? Yes, I should, I wouldnât want them thinking itâs from Quarth or whatever his name is.â
 âQal, I think.â
 âDo you still have that card catalogue with everyoneâs food allergies in it?â Ireth asks him, barely listening now as she gets up with a mission in mind.
 âIn the study,â he confirms.
 She pads off towards it, while Haninan decides to remain on the bed, and chase the patterns in the ceiling with his eyes. They form a pleasant latticework that makes him think of beehives, and the strength of hexagonal structures. The children are going to do a unit on bees later in the year. Itâll be fun, and it will give him the chance to include some information about architectural shapes. June is into pyramids right now, but Haninanâs fairly sure it wonât take much to get him interested in hexagons, too.
 Heâs chasing his thoughts down into matters of magical geometry when he hears soft feet pad into the bedroom. Lighter than Irethâs. Haninan turns his head, and watches June climb up onto the bed. He slings his arm around his son as he settles in beside him.
 âWhatcha doing?â June asks.
 âNothing much,â Haninan assures him. âYou need something? I thought you were watching cartoons.â
 June shrugs.
 âI finished my snack, and then it was the clown show,â he explains. With the world-weariness of someone several times his age, he looks thoughtfully up at the ceiling. âI hate that show.â
 Haninan snorts.
 âItâs supposed to teach you math,â he says.
 June makes a face.
 âThatâs what school is for,â he objects. âThey moved my Superman show to dinner time instead. Can I still watch it if I do homework in between?â
 He thinks about it.
 âSure,â he agrees.
 June fist pumps, and then leans in and smooshes his face against Haninanâs side. The ominous sounds of the dreaded Clown Show drift up from downstairs. Haninan can admit, despite knowing what theyâre angling for - it is kind of an awful show. Most of the other parents arenât big fans, either, and he thinks one of Kassâ students had a round of nightmares about one of the clowns climbing out of the television and trying to strangle them.
 âPapae?â June asks him, after a minute.
 âHm?â
 âParents donât just⌠suddenly stop loving their kids, right? Like⌠that doesnât happen, does it? Even if the kids are really bad or mess up a lot of stuff?â
 Haninan shifts around a little to look down at his son, and feels his heart crack at the worried look on his face. He leans down and kisses his head. It doesnât take a genius to see his line of reasoning. Learning about bad parents, about parents who mistreat their kids, also tends to come hand-in-hand with thinking that there might be something that kids could do, to make their parents become hateful or resentful of them.
 âNo,â he assures him, firmly. âThat doesnât happen. And it especially wouldnât happen to you, June-o. Your mamae and I will love you forever, no matter what you do.â
 June wrinkles his nose, but he also looks relieved.
 âI wasnât asking that,â he insists, at a mumble. âI was just checking in general.â
 âOh, okay,â Haninan allows. âBut still. For the record. Iâll love you forever.â
 June grumbles a bit about âmushy stuffâ, but he also rests his head on Haninanâs chest, and relaxes a bit more as Haninan rubs at his back.
 Thereâs no difference between being a father and being a papae. Haninanâs not always sure heâs doing the right thing, that heâs being a good parent, that heâs done enough to look after June or that heâs pushing things in the right direction. But heâs pretty sure that if he was messing it up too badly, Ireth would tell him. Heâs not alone in this grand scheme.
 Kassaran is.
 That canât be easy. With all of everything thatâs gone on, he knows for a fact that itâs hard.
 He makes a mental note to invite Kass over to dinner sometime soon, at least, and hugs his son a little tighter.















