I gift you more Linus fic because it is all I have been able to write about and I want the world to see it. I have decided to write it in bits in pieces, snapshots of Linus' life post-s6 as they come to me. This one is a draft of what could have led to Linus leaving Nina that was discussed some here.
Linus knew next to nothing about kids, but Frederik had to be at the age where talking was non-stop. Since Nina fell into… whatever it was, Frederik had become very quiet and glued to his tablet. Linus couldn’t find it in himself to care that much, because all it did was make Frederik easier to deal with and Lord knows that’s what Linus needs.
“Frederik, gubben, come on,” Linus said again, trying really hard to keep his cool and keep his voice light. He pulled gently on the boy’s shoulder. Luckily, Frederik went along with it, as he tends to do with many things these days. He climbed out of bed, taking Linus’ hand with one of his own and dangling the tablet at his side with the other.
Linus led him to the kitchen.
Surprisingly, Nina was there, in her pj’s, stumbling through making… something.
“Good morning, Nina,” Linus greeted, failing to hide his bewilderment, “are you…?”
“What? Is making breakfast for my son and brother so weird? Isn’t this my job?” She sounded… drunk? It wouldn’t be the first time, but it was 7:30 in the morning. Nina would usually stumble home late from work absolutely wasted. She had yet to start the day that way. But Linus didn’t know how else to place her tone. Maybe just angry and tired. Weren’t they all?
“Nina…” Linus pinched his nose and sighed. He guided Frederik to a seat at the table as Nina continued, “He’s my son, anyway. You’re not his pappa.”
Linus stilled where he stood behind Frederik’s chair. The boy had returned to his tablet. Linus took a deep breath. “Nina, I’m his uncle. He’s my nephew. I love and care for him just the same”
“Doesn’t mean you have to take care of him.” She was so detached and wouldn’t even face him.
Linus exploded, “As if you are?” Now really wasn’t the time to be having this conversation, but it had already started. Something clattered onto the counter and Nina swore. She reached for a napkin. Her back was still to him. “Linus, I’m…”
“As if I’m not?” The flood gates were open, now, and a month's worth of pent up emotions rushed out of him. “Nina, I’ve lost him, too. I’ve lost mamma. I’ve lost—” Tanja. The name got stuck in his throat. He was no better off than Nina, but he pushed past the block. “I’ve gone through just as much shit as you, Nina, but I’ve been able to look after Frederik while you’ve rotted in bed.”
His sister turned round in a flash, a blood-soaked napkin over a finger and the blood-covered knife in the other hand. All Linus could think about it was good. She pointed the knife at him. “Then why aren’t you going to work? Why don’t you have a job? You’re fucking eighteen; it’s about time! I reserve the right to kick you out. You’re not a minor anymore.”
“I’m here with Frederik while you sell art for our livelihood!"
“Letting him rot his brain staring at a screen all day?”
That one hit close to home, but Linus didn’t let it show. It was hard to constantly be attentive and entertaining. It was far easier to slip into the darkness of his brain. Frederik never seemed to mind, anyway. He grit his teeth.
“At least I’m around for him,” Linus spit. He stared on in contempt as Nina stilled and her gaze hardened. Then she hissed, “Get out,” and took a step forward with the knife brandished. “Get out!”
Frankly, Linus didn’t need to be told twice. He was unfazed by the subtle threat and turned to pack a bag easily.
