Jelissa doesn’t even make it halfway through Jonah’s room before her wings falter, flight weakening until she’s on the floor.
Her knees dig into the hardwood as she stares blankly, untameable tears flowing down her cheeks.
He meets her there.
Jonah scoops her up from under her arms, lifting her to sit on the edge of the mattress.
“Jels? Jelly, what’s wrong?”
He holds her face between his fingers, levelling himself with her.
“Why are you crying, baby, talk to me,” he whispers frantically.
She chokes on her own sobs, unable to get any words out. He could see the panic in her eyes, see how badly she wanted to get it out.
Jelissa clung onto the digits with a knuckle-white grip, shaking her head as the tears continued to stream down her face.
“Jonah,” she sobs, face twisting further.
“Jels… my baby… breathe.”
Her lips part once more, jaw trembling.
“H— He, He… He—” She sobs again. “He w…” A pained cry.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Hey. Hey, Jels, I’m right here. I’m listening.” He wipes the continuous flow of tears, rubbing circles against her cheeks.
Again, she shakes her head, eyes widening.
“It— it’s stupid, it’s— it’s— it’s…“
“No, no, it’s not stupid. It’s not stupid, Jelissa. If it’s making you this upset then it’s a big fucking problem. What happened?”
“He— He…”
Jonah knew that she was referring to Shawn. He just didn’t know what could have possibly changed.
He nods along, trying his best not to rush her.
“He— he can’t, can’t… handle it, it—me,”
The sobs come even harder, and he didn’t even realize she was holding herself up until she collapsed against his fingers.
“Oh, sweetheart… oh, that’s…”
“It’s— it— it’s— it…” she clamps her eyes shut. “Jon— Jonah.”
“Baby…”
“It’s— pathet—ic, what’s wrong with m… m— me? We were talking and— and… and… a— I—”
It hurt him to wait this long. He promised her he’d never finish for her, but that didn’t make it any easier.
He wanted to fix it, he wanted to get to the root and make the tears stop for good.
“And… it came out of nowhere… I t— I thought, I thought it was getting better… it was suppos— it was suppos—ed to—” she opens her eyes, sending a chill down Jonah’s spine with how bloodshot and desperate they were. “I don’t understand.”
She was going to start hyperventilating if she wasn’t already. Chest heaving, breaths shallow.
“Jels. Hey.”
“Jonah…” she sticks her arms out for his face, grasping at the air.
“Jelly, baby. Come here, shhh… come,” he coos, receiving her.
She clings onto his face, smearing her tears all over him.
Jonah stands up, taking her with him as he climbs onto the bed and leans against the backboard.
He carefully pries her off of his face, bringing her down to his chest and cradling her against the fabric there. Almost immediately her fingers dig into his shirt, along with her face, and a fresh round of tears.
Her wings were vibrating, he couldn’t tell if it was because she was flapping so fast or if it was another side effect of her meltdown.
Jonah brings his thumb up behind her, brushing them over her wings in an attempt to soothe. They falter against the digit before freezing, the thin appendages going limp against her back as the rest of her body continued to tremble.
“Easy,” he sways her gently. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, just breathe,”
He rubs circles into her back, then against the back of her head, loosening the knot of a little white ribbon tied in her hair.
Her cries had gone silent, but they hadn’t come to an end. He could see the sharp jolts in her shoulders, and feel them, too.
“Atta girl,” he coos, eyes patiently locked onto her. “Just breathe. You have all the time in world.”
The tension is his heart dissipates as she takes a deep breath, releasing a final sob and lifting her head out of his shirt to look at him.
Jonah snakes his thumb up to wipe her cheek, holding her face right there.
“Hi… hey, princess.” He tsks as her pout reforms, and she leans into his touch, still holding tight onto his shirt.
“Jonah— Jonah…” she breathes out, moving her hands to clutch his thumb, self soothing by rocking back and forth. “It’s— it— it’s… it’s… rrrruin… it’s…”
He knew exactly what she was going to say, that was the worst part.
“It’s rrruining… m—my… l… l— it’s… ruining my… life… I h— I, h…ate it,” she croaks, eyes pleading with him.
She flinches as a heavy knock falls against the door. Then another. And a final.
“Jonah?”
Shawn.
Her eyes widen, and she looks back up at Jonah, desperately shaking her head.
“Jonah? Hey, is Jelly in there?”
She claws onto Jonah’s skin, shaking her head again. “No, no, no no no, n… I— he can’t— I want to stay with—" She takes a sharp breath, lips still parted. “With you, with you, I want…”
“Okay,” he whispers.
“Hello?! Jonah, is she with you?” He knocks again.
He lifts his head up towards the locked door. “Just give us a minute, yeah?”
Another knock. His voice is still muffled through the wood.
“Lissa, please… I need to talk to you.”
Jonah waits for her to refuse again, sighing deeply and calling out once more.
“I’ll call you when you can come in, Shawn.”
Silence.
She slumps against Jonah, lashes falling heavy as he continues to rock her back and forth, as though she were in a cradle.
“Fine. Okay, yeah. Call me.”
Followed by a set of retreating footsteps.
“Jonah.”
“Yes?”
“It’s not… working,” she breathes deep once more. “The therapy. It’s not fixing anything, it’s— still so bad, so…”
He cups his hand beneath her, bringing her further up his chest, right above his heart.
“Speech therapy isn’t always linear, my love… it’s going to take time, and, I can’t lie to you, you know that. It doesn’t mean the stuttering and the blocks are completely going to go away. It’s supposed to help, not ‘cure’.”
She blinks, sending a few more drops down her cheek, only for Jonah to wipe them up again.
“I’m... fff…aulty.”
His rocking stops, and he just stares.
Takes in the little girl curled up in his hands.
Absorbs the frilly ankle socks and the pink skirt and the disheveled cardigan. He had no idea where her shoes went, she came in without them. He takes another long look at her face, seeing that her lashes were now shut.
That sweet, sweet face… the girl with the brightest smile. Her breaths were still shaky, exhaustion the only thing taking her over.
“You’re not faulty,” he mutters, trying to keep the tightness in his throat from showing.
She whispers back. “It feels. Like that. People look at me like that, with… pity… like they feel bad for me, l…ike, I’m unfixable.”
She opens her eyes again, fatigue written all over her face, lashes clumped together with tears. “You’re the only perrr...ssson, who doesn’t, who doesn’t, who— who…”
Jelissa takes another deep breath, seemingly falling out of her state of panic.
“You don’t look at me like that.”
Jonah uses the tip of his pointer to push the hair out of her face, trembling a bit himself. He was good at composing himself with the other fae, he was excellent, really. There was something about this girl in particular that tore down his defences.
“You… you look at me like I’m. A person,” her lashes flutter again at his touch.
Carefully, Jonah holds her tighter, pressing her firmly against his chest.
“Because that’s what you are, Jelly. I’m not the only one who sees it. You’re not your stutter and you’re not your blocks,” he whispers.
“You love ballet flats and drawing and things that smell like cinnamon,” he coos. “And you hate horror movies, and you always skip on the marshmallows in your hot coco because you hate how soggy they get.”
He couldn’t see her face now, it was hidden in the fabric. But he could see and feel her wings against his fingers, gently flapping the way they do before she’s about to fall asleep.
“Everyone sees it. And if they don’t, well, then they aren’t worth your time.”
Jonah clears his throat, stroking her wings down against her back.
“You’re a million little things before your struggles… and you’re nowhere near faulty.”
Just barely, he sees her nod against him. He releases a breath.
“Jels?”
A soft hum in response.
“I know it hurts, baby. I know.”
She lets out a final sob at that.
“I know… but it isn’t over, you’re still improving… and it’s meant to make your life easier, not anyone else’s.”
“...Okay," she says, muffled. “I believe you.”
“Sweet girl,” he croons, lifting her higher, curling her up near the crook of his neck.
She takes a second to readjust, wings fluttering in a short burst before they settle again, and she scrunches herself up into a ball by the hollow.
Jonah’s pulse was much more prominent up here through the barrier of skin, and she couldn’t help but fall drowsy against it. That, along with all the crying, all the worry, it made her bones heavy and her lids clamp shut.
And then, the humming. The warm hand surrounding her, and that familiar song. She never asked him what it was called. She didn’t want to hear it anywhere else.
Once Jonah feels her body go limp, he lifts her off of him. Her arms and legs now wrapped around his fingers, keeping a grip on him despite the sleep.
He turns over, depositing her onto the middle of his pillow.
However, when he tries letting go, she stirs, arms and legs holding on tighter.
“Jelly..." he whispers.
Her legs encircled the base of his middle finger while her arms wrapped around the index, wings tucked loosely against her back.
He contemplates her for a moment before settling back into bed himself, resting his head on the pillow beside her.
Faint, tiny handprints dotted the mirror that Jelissa found herself staring into on the occasional afternoon.
There were lots of things she liked about herself. She didn’t mind the brown of her eyes or the little beauty mark that dotted her cheek. Those things were okay.
The problem was that she didn’t know what she didn’t like. She didn’t know what was missing, or why she felt that way to begin with.
The bedroom was vacant. Beds left empty and neatly made. All the other fae were out and about, probably hanging out in the living room and playing card games with the boys.
She wraps her hand around her honey coloured hair for a third time in a sitting, pulling it out of her face to try out a ponytail. Nothing was working. Her arms were beginning to ache. She had probably torn out a decent chunk with how many strands clung to the discarded hair ties on the table.
Jelissa tilts her head this way and that, gauging the framing of her face and the wisps that wouldn’t sit flat.
The knock on the door is soft enough not to startle her, but her eyes are still drawn to the movement in the reflection of the mirror.
Her shoulders relax as her little brown eyes lock onto her favourite pair of greens.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Jonah says softly, clicking the door behind him.
Her heart swells as she drops the hair from her hand, turning around to really look at him.
She sat with her knees on the wood of the desk, craning her head up as he walked over to meet her there.
“Hey, Jonah.”
He crouches, hands braced on the desk to steady himself as his face comes down to her level.
Jonah had a great face. A slightly rugged air to him, yes, but he was far from rough-looking. She wondered if his confidence helped with it at all. Maybe her fears showed through her stature, too.
Despite all the giggle-inducing conversations the fae had surrounding him, Jelissa could never see him in that light. She couldn’t imagine how lonely she would be if he was anything but her friend. With how tongue tied she already was around Shawn… she probably wouldn’t have made it this far to begin with if that were the case.
“What’re you doing up here, Jels? All by yourself?”
She opens her mouth to speak, jaw working a bit before the words come out.
“I’m… I’m, just not…” she takes a shaky breath. “Feeling it right now, I guess.”
He brings his hand on top of the wood, unfurling his fingers and resting it flat beside her.
“Come. We can go hang out in the backyard.”
Her lips pull together, holding back her smile as she crawls forward, hoisting herself up onto his palm. He waits, thumb ready to support her if she needed it.
Sure enough, her little hands find purchase against the digit, pulling herself onto the uneven surface of his hand, wings flapping gently behind her.
Jonah draws her close to his chest, standing up from his spot on the floor.
“Wanna talk?” he whispers, knowing she was close enough to hear it.
She nods, scooting near the edge to wrap her arms and legs around his thumb entirely, resting her cheek against the print as he carries her out.
---
“You’ve been gone for sss…o long,” she comments, slipping her hands through the gaps between his fingers to wrap around a blade of grass, without actually leaving his hold. “I missed you.”
The sun cast a golden glow over the backyard, illuminating Jonah’s face from above her. He lay on his stomach, cupping the fairy in both hands with his elbows digging into the earth. The house was far back, but behind her, the grass stretched on for miles. Sparse trees and an endless horizon.
“I missed you too,” he chuckles softly. “All of you, but especially you.”
Her cheeks heat up, and she avoids eye contact, snuggling closer into his hand, curled up on her side.
“How have things been with… you know who?” he tries, tilting his hands back and forth, depositing her from palm to palm, mindlessly.
She giggles at the sensation, appreciative of his pacing, allowing her to go limp like a ragdoll and roll between his fingers as though she were a fistful of sand.
“They’re okay, Sh… shhh… Shawn,” she huffs. “Shawn, and I have been talking a little more, so… I think I’m making progress. If that’s what you’d ca… ll it.”
He hums in acknowledgment. “It doesn’t have to be some sort of goal you’re working towards, you know. You can just be friends. He’s great as one of those, too.”
“I know.” she whispers.
Shawn wasn’t the sun in her world, but it sure felt like it at times. Even when she was staring into the mirror she wondered how it would be if he was looking at her, instead. How she’d feel then. If it would be just as terrible or if she’d forget all about it.
He holds his hands still, giving her a second to catch her bearings.
“And what about the designs? Have you been sketching?”
She perks up at this, pushing herself up into a seat.
“I want skorts. Or, I want to make some, I can’t pick. Maybe both.”
He grins. “I can help with that.”
She smiles back, subconsciously smoothing down the ruffled fabric of her skirt.
Although he hadn’t been around for a while, Jonah still thought about how passionate she was in that area. All the little ballet flats, the cardigans and skirts and butterfly clips. She had such a distinct, sweet sense of style.
Even now, she was sporting a white tennis skirt and a pastel pink top with lantern sleeves. Miniscule, cream sneakers dotted with even tinier pink and yellow flowers. To Jonah, and to anyone else with a set of eyes, it was beyond adorable. He often had to resist the urge to reach over and squish her face between the tips of his fingers, although she wouldn’t mind if he did so.
She was just too cute for his own good.
It ached. She was one of the only fae who gave him near as much attention as he did her, to top it off.
Jelissa sighs, puffing air into her cheeks before sticking one hand in the air and gesturing for Jonah to come closer.
“L…. Lay… Lay down, come.”
He complies instantly, parting his hands to let her drop gently onto the grass. He adjusts himself, turning onto his side and resting his head on the ground beside her, face close enough to touch.
A breeze dances through the air then, running through her hair.
She plants her elbows into the ground behind her, getting into a comfortable position on her back. Jonah’s hand comes over to push aside the longer blades of grass, giving her a flat patch to lay on.
Jelissa sighs.
“I’m a really jealous person, Jonah.”
He mirrors her, resting flat on his back and staring at the expanse of clouds above them. “It’s natural.”
“Hm. It doesn’t feel… that way, though. No one else cares. But I care.”
“You have every right to care… your heart’s big and it needs somewhere to go.”
She frowns affectionately, always so struck by his choice of words.
“It’s not just a fae thing, though. You guys do get jelly sometimes.”
Jonah laughs at that. “Yeah? What have you seen.”
She runs a hand through her hair, twirling the ends around her fingers.
“Eli.”
“Really?” Jonah turns back onto his side, facing her. “I know Misty gets riled up, but he seems pretty tame in that department.”
She shakes her head, smiling to herself. “He doesn’t… like it when other people… hold her. He won’t say, because he doesn’t want to seem possessive. But it bothers him, Jonah.”
“Huh.” He nods to himself. “I mean, Misty doesn’t like it when other people hold her, either. It’s a pretty even split.”
Jelissa’s shoulders tense as she hears the pitter-patter of crawling from behind her, eyes widening and instantly locking onto Jonah’s for reassurance.
His brows furrow as he takes a peek behind her.
“It’s just a ladybug.”
Jelissa props herself up, turning around to see for herself.
It was, in fact, just a ladybug, wonky and making its way closer to them with soft clicks.
“Are you scared?”
Her chest tightens as Jonah lowers his hand, extending his finger out towards it. As expected, the bug crawls on, skittering across the pad of his fingertip before ending up upside down, swirling across his knuckle. It was so mind-rattling to see something that big, appear so tiny when it was on him.
“No… No, I’m okay,” she breathes out.
Jonah had grown so accustomed to the feeling of little hands and feet and wings all over him that the ladybug barely registered, pattering its way down to round over his wrist.
“There we go,” he mumbles.
Jelissa watches as he lifts his hand, carrying it over to the other side of his torso and guiding it onto the patch of grass behind him.
He returns, tucking his hand underneath his cheek and looking back at the fairy.
She pushes herself onto her knees, reaching her arm out to run her hand over the bridge of his nose.
He keeps his greens locked onto her, soft breaths smoothing over her hair. She could’ve sworn his lids went heavy in response.
As she moves on to his cheek, tiny fingers tracing patterns into the skin, she mutters softly to herself.
“You’d be a great dad.”
His breathing hitches, startled by the sudden switch in conversation.
“Yeah? What makes you say that?”
She shrugs, squeezing the skin just below his cheekbone, soaking up the warmth.
“I don’t know, just… you’re not the same as the other humans here. They’re fun, but, I actually feel like I can be myself, around you. I don’t get nervous.”
“You get nervous around everyone else? Not just Shawn?” he pries.
She nods. “Everyone.”
“Do you want kids?” She lets go of him, bringing her hand back to her chest.
“I don’t know. Not really?”
“You’re just so good with all things little… like… all of us, and then that ladybug… and… and— and that alley cat.”
His eyes turn back to the sky. “Well, I don’t know if that qualifies as a fatherly trait. A lot of the guys are great with fae.”
She frowns. “Maybe I’m just not explaining it, properly.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers with a smile. “I’m still taking it as a compliment.”
Jelissa nods, forcing a sigh out of her lungs once more. “I guess… I don’t know, this is stupid.”
“No, no, talk.”
She rests her chin on her knees. “I kinda see you that way. Like a brother, too, but it’s a mix of both. Like when you called me pretty back at… the… house. It was like my dad was saying it.”
The silence that followed made the back of her neck burn, anticipating his reaction.
Her breathing catches as Jonah rolls onto his front, hand cupping behind her and lifting her up to his face.
“Jelly,” he says softly, lowering himself further to press a kiss against her stomach, then a few more soft pecks along her arms and legs, prompting her to giggle and curl up onto her side.
“Jonah,” she laughs, wings fluttering like a hummingbird’s.
“You’re the cutest,” Jonah coos, trailing another quick round of kisses along her back and wings before adjusting, nuzzling her with the tip of his nose.
Breathless, she feels tears prick her eyes as he murmurs against her.
“I kinda see you that way, too. But not a daughter per se,” he laughs.
She nods against him, beaming so hard her cheeks hurt. “Yeah. There isn’t a word for it.”
He smiles, mindlessly feeding her wings through the gap between two fingers.
“That’s just it, Jels. You don’t have to put a label on everything.”
She hugs tighter onto his nose, sighing deeply.
“Maybe you’re right. We can just…”
He gives her a second, eyes full of sparkle. The sun’s yellow glow had turned orange by now, her shadow dancing across his face.
In which you’re offered something you deeply yearn for.
“You keep staring at me.”
Those words shake you out of your daydream, one you’d be embarrassed to admit is happening more frequently.
“Are you still afraid of me?”
Not necessarily, you think. You’d been staring at his hands, thinking about what it might feel like to be held by them. Ever since he discovered you and saved your life, he’s been exceptionally patient regarding you not wanting to be handled at all if possible. If it’s not possible, he tries to make it as quick and easy to adjust to as he can.
Given how incredibly gentle he is, you’ve not been minding it quite so much lately. In fact, you’ve been wondering to yourself what it might feel like for him to just hold you close, to cuddle you against his chest and let you lean against him…
You shake your head when you realize you’re at it again, and you quickly look away to try and hide your red cheeks.
“If you’re not afraid, then why do you keep staring at my hands?”
You shake your head again, but he’s quick to catch on, annoyingly so. You see him smiling softly from the corner of your eye.
“If you want me to hold you, all you need to do is ask. You don’t have to be shy about it.”
He states it so easily, there’s no hesitation or judgment in his voice. All you need to do is ask…
You take a deep breath, trying to muster all of the courage you can in your tiny little body. You turn to look at him again, seeing him watching you with a patient smile.
“U-um, c… could you hold me…? Please?”
His face lights up as you do as he suggests, nodding his head as you take deep breaths to prepare yourself for what you’ve just asked for. He reaches over and, using both hands, gingerly scoops you up. You gasp as you’re suddenly in his hold, watching warily as he brings you closer to him. He looks down at you with a friendly gaze, as though waiting for you to respond to his actions. After you anxiously fidget for a moment, he softly speaks up again.
“Is there a particular way you’d like me to hold you? I have no problem with this, but if you want to get more cozy, we can do that too.”
You nod your head as he ends his sentence, speaking up even quieter this time.
“More cozy…?” you ask timidly.
He smiles, his hands bringing you to his chest and giving you exactly what you’ve been hoping and dreaming for. You’re tucked against him as he leans back, and you nestle in as his warmth invites you closer.
“There you go, that’s all you needed to do. You let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you, alright?”
You nod your head, your eyes closed as you soak in this moment. You feel his thumb move, startling briefly before relaxing under his soothing touch. He rubs his thumb softly over your side, and you begin to nestle in closer. You sigh deeply as you feel his massive fingers keeping you supported, making you feel secure and safe. His warmth seeps into your body with ease, and you nuzzle your face into his shirt, clinging to it with your tiny hands.
“Oh my, you’re quite the little cuddle bug, aren’t you?”
You nod your head softly once more, not caring quite so much about how shy or embarrassed you feel anymore. You’ve been needing this for a while, and being on your own hasn’t been conducive to receiving this kind of attention. While you didn’t expect to find comfort from a human, of all things, you still welcome the opportunity to indulge in something you’ve dearly missed, and he seems just as eager to provide it to you.
“You should have said something sooner, sweetheart…” he murmurs, his thumb brushing across the side of your face briefly before returning to your side.
You don’t respond this time, instead focusing entirely on the feeling of being held by such large, gentle hands, and being cradled to his chest as his heart beats soothingly inches away from you.
“Here, I’m going to lie down so you can lay on my chest. Hold on tightly.”
You do as he says, clinging to his shirt as he presses you up against his chest securely with one hand. His other grabs a couch pillow to lay against, and he turns to situate himself horizontally across the cushions. He’s now halfway propped up on the pillow, and your tiny weight settles comfortably onto his chest as it supports you from beneath. It’s still at a bit of an angle, so his hands continue to cradle you close to him to keep you feeling secure atop him.
“There we are, how’s this?”
You take a moment to process all of this. It’s one thing to be held close to his chest, it’s another thing entirely to be laying on top of his chest. It feels much closer, more intimate and personal, and you feel your face heating up as the weight of the situation hits you.
This human, who you strove so hard to avoid for so long, was now fully invested in making sure you feel safe and warm. He encouraged you to ask for comfort from him, and wasted no time in making sure he could provide it to you.
You offer him a small, shy smile in response to his question as you snuggle in, the weight of his hands over you soothing you. It feels like you’re constantly being hugged, and it’s something you’ve been yearning for ever since you ended up on your own. His thumb strokes over you again and again, a gentle touch that begins to lull you into a doze as you close your eyes.
“You can sleep if you want, you’re safe here.”
And despite this going against all rules in place to ensure your survival, you believe him. You feel like you can let your guard down, like you can let yourself be so incredibly vulnerable to him and that he wouldn’t take advantage of you. You feel safe with him, and you let yourself relinquish your control, passing out surrounded by his warmth and soothed by his affection.
Gustave and Verso meet in the garden of the Dessendre manor. After the last events, they can properly talk to each other.
(Previous part) / (Next part) / (Master list)
I hope you liked this chapter ! Next one will take a LONG time to come, since I really must be careful on what's going to be said (or not said 👀) and because of IRL stuff !
See you for the next one, which will probably be one of the most complicated for me to do :')
Thank you for the love you give this series ! I wouldn't have done it this far without your support for this silly AU !
Clover was supposed to be asleep. At least, he thought she had been.
Jonah had his head resting on his desk, arms concealing his face from the little fairy.
“…Daddy?”
That gets him.
He lifts his forearm away, revealing his bloodshot eyes to an equally exhausted Clover, clad in pink polka-dotted pajamas.
“Hey, Lucky,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “How’d you get up here?”
She rocks back and forth on her feet, clutching tight onto a miniature stuffed bunny. It was already starting to look worn out with how often she lugged it around. A good size for her, yes, but it still dragged across the floor behind her.
“Marve opened it for me.”
He’d assumed just as much. She was getting better at flying lately, yes, but there was no world in which she could open up a human-sized door.
He tries giving her a smile, still glued in place.
Only the lamp in the corner of the office kept the room aglow in a warm yellow, but it was far past her bedtime. He could see it in the stiffled yawns and hear it in the croak at the edge of her voice.
She takes a look around on the desk for a moment, little eyes trailing over the mess of papers and discarded pens, before turning back to his face.
“Why are you sad, Jonah?”
He lets out a sigh through his nose. It was getting more difficult by the day to keep it away from her. He had been sitting there in a pile of his own sorrow for who knows how long.
She read him like a book sometimes.
“It’s complicated, sweetheart.”
She nods, planting her feet firmly on the desk.
A little hand fidgets with one of the ears of her bunny.
“Do you get mad? When I call you Dada?” She crouches into a seat, folding her legs under her. Bunny held tight to her chest as her wings fluttered to help her settle. “Or Daddy. Or Papa.”
Jonah’s brows furrow, eyes pooling once more.
“No,” he coos, hand coming up to ruffle her hair under his fingertip. “You can call me whatever you want.”
“Do you want me to say Jonah?”
“What do you want, baby?”
“Marve said I have to call you Jonah.”
He scoffs, lifting his head up to prop his chin on the desk instead.
Clover frowns, pulling on both ears now. “I dunno. All the grown ups call you Jonah. But I want you to be my Dad.”
He wouldn’t dare tell her that this very conversation topic was the reason he was in tears to begin with.
“I know, Clove. It’s hard, eh?”
“Yeah. Difficult.”
“Hm.” Jonah lays a hand flat on the wood, helping her climb on. “Life is a little hard sometimes. A little confusing, maybe.”
“Yeah,” she huffs out, struggling to hoist herself up while keeping a hold on her stuffed animal. “Can I tell a secret?”
He nods, sitting up straight and bringing her to his face.
She uses one hand to wipe her hair out of her face, pressing her entire palm against her forehead and dragging it back along her head. A little habit that Jonah had noticed months ago, though he found it too cute to correct.
“I miss my mommy.”
Gutted. He was instantly gutted.
She had given him bits and pieces over the last few weeks, casually dropping them in conversation. The songs she used to sing and the way she used to do her hair. But none of them were an admission as conscious and devastating as this one.
“Yeah?” He tries, rubbing her arm with his thumb.
She bursts into tears then, nodding frantically.
“Come here,” he grimaces, pressing her against his cheek, bunny and all. “You miss being with your mama?”
He feels her nod against him, heartbroken sobs escaping her.
It was refreshing to know that being so young, Clover didn’t need to hide how she was feeling the way that Jonah did. She didn’t need to hold her tears in for the sake of anyone else, she could just be. No one was relying on her to keep up a facade.
“You’re a good papa but I miss Mama too,” she cries. “But not my other papa, ‘cause I don’t remember, you know?”
“I know.”
Again, bits and pieces.
He freezes when he hears her familiar giggle blend in with her tears.
“Your voice buzzed again,” she says, tapping a little hand against his face.
He was going to start crying all over again if she didn’t stop all this. The routine, the jokes, the… everything. He couldn’t handle it anymore. There was already talk about sending her across the state. He just knew it couldn’t be permanent.
Jonah couldn’t keep her in his pocket forever. He couldn’t read stories and take her to the house to have tea parties with the girls or play dragons with the residents for the rest of her life.
None of this was forever, and the realization was looming over his head like a storm cloud.
After years of fairy-care and interviews and recruiting. Coaxing people out from under the couch and begging them to let him in, finally, finally he had found a sense of purpose.
Jelissa had told him a while back that he’d be a great dad. He had no clue that an opportunity like that could present itself, let alone be ripped away from him so fast.
His head ached just thinking about it, all the times he had tucked a fairy in for bed or soothed one through a nightmare. The long talks on the couch where he’d get to spill his glorified life advice.
This entire time, he had it in him. He always had that underlying desire to be fatherly, and now? It wasn’t here to stay.
“I’m sad, Papa.”
“It’s okay to be sad, Clove. I get sad sometimes too.”
“Like now?”
“Like now. Missing people can make you really sad, but it’s okay, you can feel that way.”
Another nod, followed by a sniffle. “When I was little, a long time ago, my mama told me that I don’t need another daddy, but if you’re not my other daddy then I’m all alone, Jonah. It’s only me then.”
He was selfish. He had all these people ready to fill up the holes in his life and still, he managed to make Clover’s situation about himself. He couldn’t imagine being four years old and being moved around from place to place like this.
Her whole world was falling apart. She really didn’t know anything besides her old life and the one she had here. She didn’t have the time or the past to numb the pain, everything was now.
“You’re not alone, Clover, okay?”
“But…”
“But nothing, you’ve got me either way. As Jonah or as your dad, you don’t have to pick just yet. I’m always gonna be here for you from here on out, yeah?”
“Yeah… promise?”
He’d curse under his breath if she weren’t close enough to hear it.
Jonah pulls her away from his face enough to make eye contact with her.
She had her hand out, grabby fingers clenching and unclenching.
He offers her the pinky of his other hand, eyes softening as she grabs onto it. Her bunny falls into her lap as she does so, little arms hugging onto him.
“I promise.”
A thick sense of dread took him over then, at the thought that it might not be one he was able to keep.
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