prompt from @amianislovely ! summary: Ian's struggling with raising a very displeased Natalie, and he reaches out to the only person who may understand.
In her surprise, Amy nearly let the phone go to voicemail. She was still staring at the the name on her screen — IAN KABRA — before she remembered that, when someone was calling, it was best to pick up. She fumbled with the ACCEPT button and pressed it to her ear.
"Are you okay?"
"Whatever happened to hello?" Ian's silky British accent sounded just like how she remembered it: infuriating.
Amy bristled. "You've. Um. Never called me before. I f—figured that would only happen if you were dying." She paused. "Are you dying?"
"Unfortunately, no. You are correct, however. Somewhat. It is Cahill business of the utmost importance."
Amy sat up straighter. Was it time? The Vespers…
"While I hate to debase myself in this way —"
"Please stop waxing poetic and just say what's going on."
"Rude. I'm dealing with the most unfortunate situation of a subordinate who simply doesn't seem to understand that they're a subordinate."
Amy's shoulders slumped. She really had to get on them about levels of emergency. "In what way?"
"I tell them to go do something and they refuse. I told them to do their…paperwork and they rolled their eyes at me! I know I'm a good leader, I mean, I'm a Lucian for God's sake. I was born with it. But I guess she was born with a stick up her ass!"
She?
"Ian?"
"Yes?"
"Is this about Natalie?"
There was a decently long pause, where all Amy could hear was the crackling of her phone.
"She won't put on a coat. In this weather. It's abysmal and she usually complains all the time about the cold but I told her to put on a coat and she rolled her eyes at me and went to her room!"
Something almost like a smile made it's way to Amy's face. "First of all," she said, not unkindly, "calling her a subordinate probably doesn't help."
"That's objectively what she is, but sure," he grumbled. "She's barely passing her year and she keeps getting into fights at school. I try to have dinner together like we did before…before, but she doesn't leave her room. I told her that she was acting childish and she threw a sixteenth century vase at my head and told me I wasn't her…her mum. And while he's so dysfunctional that it doesn't look like it, you did a half-decent job raising Daniel. Evidenced by him not being dead."
"Thank you?"
"Correct, it's a compliment. How did you do it?"
An edge of desperation had entered his voice, and it was a sound that Amy hadn't heard in a long time. She took in a deep breath.
"It helped that he was four, when our parents died. All I had to do when he was that age was show that, even though Mom and Dad weren't there, I was. I skipped the first day of school once, so I could sit outside his and wave to him during his recess, because it was his first day ever and he was so scared. He used to be so clingy when he was younger. He'd cry when I left his sight. All I did was understand what he needed and tried my best to provide that."
Ian paused, mulling it over. "Unfortunately, Natalie has a few more years on four-year-old Dan."
"It's the same, basically. Her parents hurt her and left her, and she's lashing out. Since you're in charge, and she's not used to you being in charge, she's lashing out at you. It's going to take a long time for her to adjust, but it's not not going to happen. All you have to do is show her that you love and understand her, and eventually she'll come around."
On the other side, Ian groaned. "And how does one do that? Who decided that putting me in charge of a child was a good idea? I hate children."
You are a child. We were both children.
"If she storms to her room because you told her to put on her coat, give her ten minutes, then go knock on the door to see if she's okay. A lot of the times, when people act out like this, they just need attention. They just need help. Maybe try to have dinner with her somewhere else, if the dining room brings back too many memories." Ian was silent. "And Ian?"
"Yes?"
"Please take care of yourself, too."
Ian huffed. "I'll be fine, thank you very much."
Amy didn't respond. She didn't believe him in the slightest.
Amy was sitting on the school bus when she got the text.
You're a godsend, Amy Cahill.
She brightened at the compliment, then shook her head to snap herself out of it. There was no use in letting a childish old crush interrupt the life that she had very, very carefully built. And then the pictures came in.
They were from Natalie's phone, and most of them were just the young girl preening in a mirror. But the last one…
On the other side of the table, very focused on an array of finger sandwiches, was Ian. His face looked softer than it usually did, despite the newfound dark circles under his eyes and his worried lower lip. He looked happy.
I was trying to convince her all week to go to a new cafe and she finally agreed and didn't ACTUALLY argue with me once.
We will never speak of this again.
Amy's head was tilted and she was smiling when she responded.
