[ i had ideas and now they're all gone lol // song is by twenty one pilots

warnings: language, yelling, a parent being a dick to their kid pretty much

stay safe,
lew. ]

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Lewis sat beside the toolbox, occasionally handing his father what he asked for. The kid was only four years old, delicate and timid as could be.

He watched on with wide eyes as his dad worked on the car, and ignoring the bad words that fell from his dad's mouth, because his mama said it would get him in a lot of trouble knowing words like that. Lewis always listened to his mama, she was a smart lady.

"I need a ten millimeter socket," his dad requested, sticking his hand out.

Lewis had a bit of a panic at that. He didn't know very many of his numbers yet, and ten wasn't one of the ones he was familiar with. He chose at random and dropped the cylindrical tool into the waiting hand. "There you go, Dad!"

A brief pause, and then the tool launched across the garage. "I said ten, not eighteen!"

"But, I-I-I don't know—"

"If you can't be useful, get out of the garage."

"Sorry, Dad—"

"Stop saying sorry all the goddamn time!" Then under his breath, he muttered, "Stupid son of a bitch," and it was unclear whether it was directed at his son, the car, or the tools.

Tears began to well up in his wide amber eyes as he got up and quietly left so he wouldn't make his dad any angrier. He had tears running down his face by the time he found his mama sitting out in the tiny backyard, and as soon as she saw him, she opened up her arms for a hug.

"What's wrong, buttercup?" She murmured, pulling him close and rocking the two of them a little bit. "Did those boys start bothering you again?"

He shook his head, hiding his face in the fabric of her sweater. "Mama, I'm stupid and don't know what numbers look like."

"You aren't stupid, Lewis. You're a little boy, you just don't know these things yet," she soothed, kissing the top of his head.

"But Mason-"

"Mason's older than you, honeybee. He's had more time to practice things like that, and you shouldn't expect to know everything he does right now." She kept her voice even, despite the fact that there were tiny flowers growing every time one of her son's tears hit the ground. "Who called you stupid?"

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad at you, baby. You can tell me," she assured him.

"I was helpin' Dad and gave him the wrong socket and he got mad and yelled at me and yelled again 'cuz I said sorry and he said 'stupid son of a bitch'."

"Don't use words like that, Lewis. That's a bad word, and your dad was being mean." She sighed and kissed his head again, standing up with him still in her arms. "I think we should get your hands washed off from touching those icky tools, then you need a nap."

"Mama, I'm not sleepy!" He protested, trying to hide the fact he was indeed tired, nuzzling his face into her shoulder. "No naps."

"If you take a nap, I'll let you help me at work tomorrow." She brought him in the house, nudging open the bathroom door and sitting him down on the counter.

"With the pretty flowers?" He stuck out his hands when she asked, letting her clean them off with a baby wipe.

"I don't know. You'll just have to find out." She smiled and tapped his nose, then tossed the wipe in the trash and picked him up again.

"Okay, Mama," he sighed. "Does Mason gotta take a nap too?"

"No, baby, remember? He's at his friend Chloe's house right now."

He stayed silent until his mama put him down on his bed, pulled his shoes off, and helped him pull the blankets over himself. "Can you tell me a story?"

"Of course, honeybee. What story?" She asked, brushing his hair back away from his eyes.

"The one about the girl and her mama. With the flowers and the fruit thingy and the nice guy."

"I think I know what one you're talking about," she laughed, "Do you have your teddy bear?"

He nodded, moving the bear so it looked like it was going to bed too.

"A long, long, long time ago, there was a girl named Persephone..."

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