boy's best friend
general audiences ● gen (nick nelson & sarah nelson, nick nelson & nellie nelson) ● one-shot ● 3,412 words
“A puppy?” Nick asks softly, as though the reality of the situation is only now settling in his mind. His eyes are wide with awe as he looks down at the fluffy lump in his lap. He blinks up at Sarah, one of his hands buried in the impossibly soft fur on the puppy’s chest. “For us to keep?” (Or, the story of how Nellie came into the Nelsons’ lives.)
“Are you actually stupid? Dad’s not coming back, Nicky!” David’s shouted words ring out from the living room. “Get that through your thick skull!”
Sarah’s breath catches in her throat, blood draining from her face. She tosses the dish towel in her hand onto the counter and hurries out from the kitchen.
“David Nelson!” she yells, aghast. “Don't you dare speak to your brother like that!” The voice that emerges from her is confident and stern, but she feels nothing of the sort; she’s far too alarmed to be anything but horrified, her mind reeling from hearing David’s harsh tone, his merciless words.
The scene that awaits her is nothing out of the ordinary these days. David stands in front of the telly, arms crossed in front of his puffed chest as though he's posturing as someone older than his 9 years. Nick is curled up in the corner of the sofa, palms pressed to his ears, eyes squeezed shut and framed by damp lashes. Tears haven't fallen yet, but Nick’s trembling lower lip tells Sarah that his battle to stay strong is quickly going south.
David whirls to face Sarah and rips his arms away from his body. His expression twists into a sneer so venomous, she almost flinches back instinctively. It’s only the knowledge that he would never actually strike her that keeps her from moving. He shoves past her to stomp towards the staircase.
“Fournier,” David hisses halfway up the stairs. “My name is David Fournier.”
A door slams upstairs and deafening silence cloaks the house in its wake, save for a small whimper that comes from the sofa.
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