Man to Man [closed]

[Abagael Zellan]

Tap,tap, tap

She hated to do this. It felt like taking advantage of the night before last. But Abagael didn’t really have a choice. She couldn’t just leave Trent at home alone for a few days and Hayes was the only one she really knew.

Though she’d joined the Jedi Order, Abagael Zellan hadn’t given up her old life entirely. Part of that life included seminars, and she’d gotten notice from her boss that they were leaving tonight for one such occasion. It was a minor event, held on-planet, but hotel reservations had been booked and Abby couldn’t drag Trent along—that was asking for trouble. Instead she’d dragged him down the hall where he stood many feet away from her, scowling. Abby gave him a look.

“Cut it out, I mean it. I don’t want any of your crap today Trent. You have to be on your best behavior.”

The little boy narrowed his eyes and turned away, too cross to look at his mother. He’d been quite upset when the two had shown up together at their quarters. The child had immediately disliked Hayes because of it; Trent didn’t like men hanging around with his mother. If the man agreed to watch the boy, it was guaranteed to be an interesting weekend. Abagael sighed and tapped lightly again on Hayes’ door. She knew it was a lot to ask, but fortunately for her he didn’t know Trent too well. Had he, there would have been a much more difficult task in front of her.

[Hayes Muirso]

The door slid open and Hayes held up a hand, without even looking to see who was there. He disappeared back into the room after just giving the two of himself in a pair of shorts and tee, brushing his teeth. There was a moment’s sound of running water, something smacking their lips, and then the Jedi Padawan emerged again.

“Morning you…”

Hayes eyes drifted down to Trent.

“…two. What’s up?”

[Abagael Zellan]

Abagael smiled hopefully.

“Hi.”

She nudged Trent who’d scuffled over to her side and he mumbled an unintelligible greeting. Abby continued to smile a little too cheerfully, though she wanted to ring Trent’s neck at the moment.

“I hate to do this, really I do. I just got word that there’s this legal thing that I have to go to…And I can’t take Trent with. I’d be back on Sunday, early afternoon at the latest.”

Searching the relaxed-looking Hayes’ face, Abby put her hands together in a mock pleading motion.

“I—we were wondering, if you would mind maybe watching Trenty?”

She raised her hand in front of her, assuring him.

“You can say no, I understand that you’ve got a schedule too.”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Uh...”

Mind whirl - it wasn’t like he was going to have anything to do, but he felt better if he did seem as though he was dropping something important to look after Trent.

“Yeah, sure.”

He jerked a thumb back into the apartment, motioning that they could come in.

“Make yourself at home, Trent. I’m just gonna go finish up getting ready…”

Please don’t sit on the touch, popped into his head as he looked back into the room, the thought of the boy there making him feel vaguely nauseous.

[Abagael Zellan]

Abby followed him in with no hesitation, only to find that Trent was still out in the hall, pouting. She marched back out and grabbed his hand, pulling him in after her. She purposefully steered the boy away from the couch—the sight of which made her grin—and sat him on a chair. Abby kneeled in front of him, taking the opportunity to talk to him alone.

“Trent Michael Zellan, you had better behave okay? No screaming, no biting, no kicking, no throwing things out the window, and leave the cupboards alone. Understand?”

Trent nodded begrudgingly and slunk lower in his chair, glowering. Abby gave him a last stern look and picked up her purse, pulling her cardkey from it’s depths.

“Hayes? I’m leaving the key to our place on the counter! Trents stuff is all packed, by the door…I have to dash if I’m going to make it on time!”

[Hayes Muirso]

Stepping out into the main room just in time to see Abby dashing away, Hayes waved out of habit. His eyes slowly slid sideways, gaze coming to rest on Trent.

“So.”

Both hands meeting at his waste, he bounced once on his toes.

“… You have anything you want to do today Trent? We could go hang out in the park or watch the Jedi. Anything you want.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent watched his mother hurry out the door, a horrible feeling of grouchiness curling into a ball in his stomach. As soon as she was out of site he slid out of the chair and crossed to the kitchen, where he grabbed the keycard. Trent looked around the quarters with an expert eye and settled his gaze on the stereo. Running as fast as his little legs could carry him, footsteps thumping on the floor, the boy ran over to it and flung the key into the little crevice behind the system. Satisfied, he trotted back to the chair where Abagael had seated him. When Hayes emerged he was the perfect image of an angel.

“… You have anything you want to do today Trent? We could go hang out in the park or watch the Jedi. Anything you want.”

If looks could kill, Hayes would have been dead in a second. Trent shook his head and wiggled on the seat.

“’M not goin’ with you.”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes smiled faintly. If the kid thought he could wear him down, he was going to be in for a big surprise.

“No? Why not?”

[Trent Zellan]

What? He was still talking? Trent looked at Hayes with raised eyebrows, unamused.

"'Cos."

Reasoning was not his strong point but Trent wasn't idiotic enough to leave it had that. It left too many open opportunities for more conversation, which would inevitably lead to his being persuaded into a better mood.

"I don't like you. You're jus' a dumbhead."

[Hayes Muirso]

“Dumbhead, huh…”

Hayes paced across into the kitchen, yawning quietly.

“Alright then. I guess I will just finished up these dumb pancakes all by my dumb self,” the Padawan called back over his shoulder, making sure the syrup was in full view on the table by his breakfast.

“You.. just.. have a sit or something.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent didn’t look while the man walked past him into the kitchen, keeping his gaze straight ahead. But after a few minutes he cautioned a glance, catching sight of the syrup. He bit his lower lip. Looked down at his tummy. And then made his move.

There is an unnatural amount of pride in the Zellan men, and though Trent was just a kid, he had a more than healthy dose of it himself. In any given situation, a man of Zellan descent will choose to keep his self-importance, rather than risk making himself look like a ninny.

Walking into the kitchen, Trent kept a slow, careful pace, knowing that Hayes was watching. He made as if he were going to join the man, and took a seat. But then, reaching nimbly across the table, the boy overturned the plate and sent it tumbling to the floor.

“Oops.”

He looked at Hayes through rounded orbs.

“It was a assident.”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes chuckled and shook his head, simply picking the stuff up off of the floor and pushing it onto the table. There were plenty more where they came from, but some how he got the idea that Trent wasn’t buying his little reverse psychology act.

“Alrighty then… I’m gonna go read.”

He slouched down into the couch with a holopad and focused his eyes down on it, purposefully not looking up.

[Trent Zellan]

Downright fuming now the boy cast daggers at the Padawan, who didn’t seem to care. Accidents always got his mother going, and this man treated it like a walk in the park. It was simply incomprehensible. Trent started to breath through his nose, irately and loud. He slid from his chair and stomped over to Hayes, standing directly in front of him with his arms wrapped over his chest. The lad waited impatiently for a few seconds and then swatted at the holopad, missing it.

“When my momma comes back, I’m gon’ tell her that you’re the worstest, most meanest dumbhead in the universe!”

Trent plodded away in a fury and hunkered down by the door. He lay down on his back, coiled his legs up and then shot them at the entrance, putting the boot into it over and over. With every whunk he shouted out at the top of his lungs.

“I wanna go home! I wanna go home! I wanna go…”

[Hayes Muirso]

“I’d take you home,” he replied, with a small smile to himself as he looked up at Trent.

‘But I don’t know where you’re moms keycard has gone.”

[Trent Zellan]

He’d done it! Now all he had to do was show Hayes where the key was, and he’d be back in his own room within the hour, and rid of the man too. Halting just as suddenly as he’d started, Trent crossed over to the stereo, peering through a space to the gap between it and the wall. He pointed.

“It’s right back there.”

Hopping from foot to foot Trent kept his finger poised like an arrow, directing traffic to the scene of the crime.

“H’ry up an’ get it out! I wanna go home!”

[Hayes Muirso]

Following the directions, Hayes squinted and shook his head.

“There is no way I can get that out. The stereo is too heavy to move…”

Turning his head he looked up expectantly at Trent.

[Trent Zellan]

Trent frowned, and looked back at the key. His face squinted in thought and after a few moments he reluctantly lay down on the floor and wriggled until his face was pressed against the base of the system. He pushed one tiny arm through the hole and stuck his tongue out in determination, straining to reach the object.

“Ungh…dumb…thing…”

He pushed himself closer, face mashing against the hi-fi arrangement. After a few more wrigglings, Trent’s fingers closed around the edge of the card and he crawled backwards, pulling his arm out. He lifted it up triumphantly, shaking the little square.

“I gotted it!”

And then he ran to the door, stood on his toes to punch it open, and trotted down the hall, shouting over his shoulder.

“H’rry up!”

They lived close, and it was only a matter of minutes before Trent stood before his quarters. But the boy didn’t know how to use the keycard. He stood staring at it, and then up at the door, curiously. Then he spread his arms out, aimed the rectangular card at the door and uttered the password.

“Please!”

[Hayes Muirso]

The Padawan left his room, making sure to slide the door shut behind him. Following behind with a deeply amused look on his face, Hayes wore only a curious smile when he arrived outside of Abby’s door again. Holding out a hand for the card, Trent reluctantly handed it to him and he pushed it into the correct slot and the door slid open – allowing Trent to immediately burst inside.

Hayes took a wary step in, feeling as though he was going against Abby’s privacy, trying not to look too inquisitive as he stood a footstep or two over the threshold.

“What d’you want to do now, then?”

[Trent Zellan]

“Nuthin’.”

Trent jumped over a waiting backpack and scurried over to a door off the living room. It led to his own room and as soon as he entered the boy climbed up onto the higher of the bunkbeds and buried himself under an already mussed quilt.

“You can go now!”

[Hayes Muirso]

“… I can’t though, you see your mom said I have to look after you. Sooo,”

Hayes looked around again, feeling like the unwelcome guest he was.

“… I have to stay.”

His eyes were drawn to the huge TV.

“… Hey, you want to watch some cartoons?”

[Trent Zellan]

"No."

Trent rolled over under the covers, twisting himself up in them. Unfortunatly, the boy's mentality didn't allow him to think of consequenses and so when the bed suddenly ended, he was quite shocked.

WHUMP!

"..."

From inside his cocoon of blankets, Trent's mouth gaped. The wind had been knocked right out of his lungs, and for the four-year-old it was a frightening experience. He'd knocked his head too and it was ringing something awful.

“Ah…ah…ah…”

The child’s breath was coming back in short gasps, and so was the sting of the fall. Trent tried to unwind himself from the covers, but found that he was too tightly entwined in them, and his arm was too sore to move. Hot tears rushed to his eyes and leaked down his cheeks.

“M-m-m…Misser…Misser H-ayes…! O-o-oww!”

Trent looked down at his arm, all puffy and purple, and screeched.

“O-o-o-owww! I wa-want my momma!”

[Hayes Muirso]

thump

Hayes blinked, and got up walking towards Trent’s room. When he heard the cries from within he began to jog. Seeing the cotton cocoon, he grimaced and knelt down at the side of it, slowly peeling it away.

“Calm down, and don’t move.”

Within a little while he’d unraveled Trent from his mishap and caught sight of the whopping purple one on his arm.

“Do you know where your mom keeps any medical stuff? … No, no of course you don’t,”

He shook his head and sighed.

“You sit on your bed there and I’ll go get you a hot flannel…”

It was the best he could think of, considering he didn’t think Trent was warming to the ‘bribing with candy’ method.

[Trent Zellan]

If anything, Hayes’ instruction to not move scared the living daylights out of Trent. He looked down at his arm, whimpered fearfully, and set to imagining horribly gruesome outcomes. His tears had yet to subside, and he was getting the hiccups from the erratic breathing. Cradling his arm, Trent ignored the previous instruction to bedsit and followed the man out of his room.

“D-does you have t-t’… cut it off?”

His eyes were the size of saucers and a nasty bump had risen on his head, just below the hairline. The lad looked as if he’d been through a bit of a battle, and Trent was beginning to think of it that way.

[Hayes Muirso]

“Of course not,” Hayes held back a chuckle as he glanced back to offer Trent a reassuring smile.

“Just want to warm it up a little. That’ll make it feel better.”

Finding a towel by the sink he ran it under the hot water, squeezed it out to let the excess water out, and then turned back to the boy. Gently as he could he folded it partly around his arm, creating a little makeshift bandage.

[Trent Zellan]

“Oh.”

Trent sniffled and made overly exaggerated sounds of pain as his arm was wrapped. Tentatively he prodded his arm, sucking in a sharp breath as it proved that, yes indeed, it did hurt when it was poked. The thing with little boys is this: an injury can make them cry and want their mothers quite easily, but as soon as the initial reaction is over, fascination sets in.

“The bed pushed me offa it.”

He glanced at Hayes in explanation, and then looked at the floor, scuffling his feet.

“’M…sorry.”

The child wasn’t apologizing for falling, and if he had spoken only a little lower it would have gone unheard.

“I’s bein’ bad, huh?”

[Hayes Muirso]

The Padawan shook his head slowly, smiling. When he was a kid he’d been such a worky ticket that he understood where the boy was coming from.

“We’ll just say we’re even.”

[Trent Zellan]

“An’ you won’ tell my mom.”

Trent looked at him with a little smile, still clutching his arm to his chest. It seemed that for now the child was resigned to a good mood, and as if to christen it, he wiped his nose along the length of his sleeve.

“In momma’s room. C’mon.”

Trent began to trot off to Abby’s bedroom, and then turned around. He rolled his eyes.

“Cartoons. Momma’s bed is softerer than the couch an’ it smells better.”

He pushed open his mothers door. The room was like much of the house, very modern and cold. But it smelt like Abby, and to Trent that softened it. He used the black chest at the foot of the monster bed to clamber up, plopping into the soft down coverings. Digging the remote from under the pillow, along with a bottle of something-or-other that the resident adult drank (which was held out to Hayes to take care of), Trent flipped on the holoscreen and turned it from the news channel to a cartoon network. He patted the bed beside him.

“You sit here.”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes carefully put the bottle out of reach as he looked around the bedroom. Compared to his virtually single room apartment it was wonderful. A little too stark for him to really enjoy, but once he was perched on the edge of the bed he couldn’t help but smile – it wasn’t quite as enveloping as his couch, but it sure was comfortable.

“So, what cartoon are we watching?” he inquired, as he squinted through his glasses at the flickering screen.

[Trent Zellan]

"Gerry the Gamorrean."

Trent's barefeet kick-kick-kicked on the bed as he absently lay there, watching as 'Gerry' attempted to squash a squid with a durasteel crate. It landed on his own foot and Trent giggled as the character hopped about.

"Geez, whut a dumbhead."

He wriggled about some more, even though he was comfortable, and turned up the volume on the unit, from blaring to earsplitting. He didn’t seem to notice the noise, chuckling along with the laugh-track of the show.

The episode neared an end, and the obnoxious theme song began to play. Trent had lain his head down mid-way through the show, and now his eyes were closing for long intervals, only to be jerked open and rubbed vehemently. All the excitement was catching up on the tiny boy.

“’re you sleepy, Misser Hayes? ‘Cos ‘m not.”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Nope, I’m wide awake thanks to ole Gerry there,” Hayes replied, absently rubbing one ear.

Shifting a bit, whilst trying not to ruffle the bed at all, Hayes leant relaxed back against one of the beds large pillows.

[Trent Zellan]

“Oh…well that’s good…cos ‘m not either…not sleepy…”

Trent yawned, mumbling as his eyes closed.

“Momma sayed that…you had a sleepover…she sayed lotsa things ‘bout…you an’ ‘bout…other…stuff…”

His breathing was evening out, and the fingers of his unwrapped hand reached out and curled around Hayes’ foot, twiddling about in semi-sleep.

“When my daddy fines out…he’s gonna be sad…cos he says…he says that—”

Yaaaaaaawn. More finger twitching.

“He says…that ‘m his boy an’ that…momma won’ neverer have any frien’s…an’ that she’s gonna be stuck with me…forever an’ ever…”

His babbling made little sense now, and Trent had drifted off nearly all the way, every once in a while breaking off with another ‘forever an’ ever…an’ ever’. The sound of the television didn’t seem to bother him; apparently he was used to sleeping in front of it.

[Hayes Muirso]

Paying careful attention to the sleepy musing of the little boy, Hayes nodded slightly. Even as he was dozing off he made the effort to look like he was enthused. Once it appeared Trent had safely dropped off, he reached over for the TV remote and edged the volume down a few decibels, tucking a little bit of Abby’s blanket over Trent. This done he leant back, folding his arms behind his head, and sighed, closing his eyes.

[Trent Zellan]

Since infancy, Trent had been a cat-napper. Sometimes it was a useful thing, and at other times it was an inconvenience. So after twenty minutes the boy woke up, cheek red from where he’d been laying against the bed. He crawled up from underneath the blankets and over to Hayes’ probable sleeping form. For a few minutes Trent merely observed him silently, edging closer and closer until his face was only millimeters away, his breath tickling the man’s face. Then he scooted backwards and slid off the bed, padding out of the room. Somewhere under his mothers bedding he’d lost the makeshift bandage, and the gross looking arm was particularly satisfying, all hurt aside; a battle wound.

His wandering led him into the kitchen where he climbed onto the counter with a bit of difficulty. There wasn’t really any food in the cupboards, seeing as how Abagael couldn’t cook, but that wasn’t why Trent was attracted to them. Opening one of the doors, he grasped it with his unharmed arm and held on tight…then he swung off the counter, rocking back and forth on the door. The Tarzan-like dangling was ended within a few seconds as Trent crashed to the floor and of course landed on the tender limb. There was a loud cracking sound and Trent let out a soundless cry. The boy pulled the wing up to himself, clutched it in terror and dashed back to his mothers room and his previous spot. He buried himself under the cover, biting back sobs, and lay there.

If he didn’t acknowledge it, nothing had happened.

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes glasses had slipped a little off his face in his dozing and as he found himself waking up, disturbed by some movement, he pushed them back up.

“Mrrh…Must have dozed off.”

Looking to the side, he saw the quilting trembling a little.

“You alright, Trent?”

[Trent Zellan]

The quilt bobbed up and down as Trent nodded.

“Uh…Huh.”

His voice was quivery.

“Jus’ miss my momma ‘s all.”

His head poked out and twisted around, looking at Hayes. Sleep was crusted in the corners of the child’s eyes, but he didn’t bother to swipe at them.

“Misser Hayes…how do you tell if somethin’ gets broked…like a head or somethin’…?”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Usually it, ah, hurts quite a lot… and doesn’t look like it normally does. Like, it will be bumpy or a little odd looking, you know?”

Hayes squinted down at Trent’s eyes, stung red from tears by the looks of it.

“…Why?”

[Trent Zellan]

Bigger and bigger the blue orbs got, alarm enlarging them. Trent shook his head and shrugged.

“Jus’ wann’ed to know ‘s all.”

He swallowed and a guilty expression crossed his rounded face.

“Case I get broked one day.”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Trent…”

There was that voice a parent used when they knew something was amiss. Hayes sat up, and looked down sternly at the boy.

“Trent has something happened that you want to tell me? I won’t be mad or tell your mom.”

[Trent Zellan]

He fidgeted.

"...No...?"

Trent looked down at the patterned bedspread, which had suddenly become very interesting. With his okay hand he pulled at a loose thread.

“…Not really, nuh-uh…”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Not really?”

Hayes frowned slightly.

“Is your arm feeling better?”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent shrugged.

“Guess so.”

It didn’t. It hurt like the devil, throbbing and pulsing like nothing ever did. But he’d already fibbed and once one is spun, a whole other lot come reeling out.

“It’s sleepin’ right now.”

Which was obviously the only logical explanation for why it was playing the lone ranger under the bed. Trent was growing uncomfortable under Hayes’ gaze and he looked up cautiously.

“Whut?”

[Hayes Muirso]

He looked away, a little concerned but willing to trust Trent for now. A glance down at his chrono and he blinked a little, pushing up his glasses to wipe some sleep from his eyes. Another glance sideways at Trent and he smiled conspiratorially, before looking back over at the still flickering TV screen where the news was on.

[Trent Zellan]

Settling back carefully, Trent attempted to watch with interest, but his mind was completely absorbed elsewhere. The dull throbbing would suddenly jolt sharply and he’d flinch, biting on the covers to stop from crying out. It didn’t take long for him to smarten up.

“Misser Hayes!”

The boy shot up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand roughly. His voice was gargally from the quiet crying.

“I think I’m broked!”

[Hayes Muirso]

“You what?”

Hayes frowned, his mind suddenly catching up with him.

“Show me.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent scuffled over on his knees, shielding his arm guiltily. His eyes were somber as he moved the crooked arm into Hayes’ sights, and his ears had gone red in embarrassment.

“It’s hurting.”

The boy looked up trustingly, eyebrows raised and orbs misty.

“Am I…broked?”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes eyes bulged, though he quickly tried to calm himself so as to not panic Trent.

“Ahum… I think we might need to take a trip to the med bay, just to check it over. Just ah… don’t move it too much.”

The damp towel was strewn across the bed, and Hayes snatched it up quickly, fashioning a crude little sling to hold Trents arm up.

“Slip your arm into that… come on,” he motioned for Trent to follow as he began slowly walking towards the door – Abby was going to kill him.

[Trent Zellan]

"Am I gonna be okay? Are they gonna kill me? Whut if they try'n cut my eyes out?"

Trent slid off the bed, arm in the sling, and trotted after, any tears plugged from his worry. He looked genuinely concerned that 'they' might want his eyes.

"Misser Hayes, y're not lis'nen. Whut if they wanna take my eyes an' put 'em in a soup?"

He narrowly avoided running into the doorframe, twisting just in time as they exited the quarters. They were only a few steps down the hall however when he stopped and shook his head.

"'M not goin'! They're gonna make it hurt more!"

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes lowered himself down to Trents level and shook his head.

“I can’t make it better for you, but the doctors here can. I’ll make sure they don’t touch your eyes, I promise,” he replied, sincerely.

[Trent Zellan]

After a moment of hesitation Trent nodded and followed Hayes to the med ward, leery of everything in the section. He was soon ushered into a little room to wait, and as he was plopped on the paper-covered bed, a nurse came in with a needle. It was just a simple, mild anesthetic so that the little boy didn’t have to deal with the tender arm, but as she stepped towards him, the needle raised, Trent screeched.

“Go AWAY!”

He kicked his foot out, whacking her elbow with the toe of his shoe, and used his good limb to cover his face.

“They’re tryin’ to get my eyes! Go AWAY!”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Woah, woah Trent! It’s just to make the pain go away. Look, its going into your arm, not your eyes.”

The thought of offering himself up as an example crossed Hayes mind, albeit briefly, before he realized how ridiculous it was.

[Trent Zellan]

He grabbed at Hayes and gripped the man’s arm tightly, narrowing his eyes at the nurse. The look was the same one he’d given the Padawan earlier in the morning.

“I don’t like her.”

He glared at the woman, who was rubbing her elbow and looking at the child with an unthankful gaze. She tried once more to jab Trent but he kicked her again and she gave up, huffing out of the curtain-surrounded room. Trent smiled. He was obviously proud of his little victory.

“She’s a dumbhead.”

“Who is?”

As the boy had been talking, the doctor had come in. His Jedi robes were a bit wrinkled already from the bustle in the ward. Trent leaned back, afraid.

“Well now Trent, I understand you had a little accident. Let’s see if we can fix it, okay?”

He gulped.

[Hayes Muirso]

With the Jedi doctors assurance the nurse once again moved to give Trent a little painkiller before the operation to straighten out his arm was to begin. The doctor explained carefully that the breakage was not severe, and could be fixed within an hour or so – throughout which time Trent would be blissfully asleep. All the while Hayes sat and listened, watching the panicky boy with concern.

“You alright with all of this, Trent?”

[Trent Zellan]

"Uh-uh."

Trent was too busy watching the doctor to notice the nurse, and he barely moved when she stuck him. She emptied the syringe nad moved away quickly, not willing to get kicked again for her trouble. Trents hand was gripping Hayes' arm tightly, his little fingernails digging into the skin.

"I feel better now, I wanna go."

[Hayes Muirso]

Bacta pads were applied and with the injection of bacta fluid which would react to knit up the wound, Trent would be set in no time. He still had a sling on, though the medbay had provided a much more sophisticated one for him to use.

“See. You’re a proper fighter now… you look like you’ve been in the wars,” Hayes commented as he stood up, with a nod from the Doctor.

[Trent Zellan]

The boy contemplated this for a moment, somewhat groggy. As he’d panicked, Hayes had assured him that he wasn’t feeling better but that he would in no time. Trent had slipped off to sleep, and the doctor had gone about it.

“Guess so.”

He kept looking at his arm as they left the examining room, somewhat awed by the experience. The nurse came to wave goodbye but Trent gave her a dirty look and shook his head. She rolled her eyes. Little boys were all the same.

“Misser Hayes your legs are too big. I can’ keep up.”

Trent grabbed the tail of the mans shirt and hopped behind him, his feet knicking the Padawans.

“Slow down!”

[Hayes Muirso]

Slowing down – he was only walking fast out of feeling a little panicked while thinking about what Abby would have to say about his dozing off and allowing Trent to injure himself – Hayes smiled broadly at Trent.

“Sorry… Sorry about your arm too.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent shrugged and let go of his shirt, hopping alongside him.

“’S okay. I did it cos I was swingin’ on the cupboard like momma says not to.”

He glanced up.

“Don’ tell ‘er.”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Mums the word.”

Hayes grinned.

“It’ll be all sorted by the time she gets home, she’ll be none the wiser,” he added with a conspirators wink.

[Trent Zellan]

"Kay."

The little boy grinned back and began to hum the theme to the cartoon they'd watched earlier. His voice rose higher and higher, all the way back to his apartment, where they retrieved his bag and headed to Hayes' quarters.

"Do you got any toys at your house?"

[Hayes Muirso]

“Not so much toys… just lots of junk. I have old comics.”

He glanced down at Trent as he held open the door to his room again.

“You read comics?”

[Trent Zellan]

He shook his head.

“ I dunno how.”

Tossing his bag on the floor, Trent wandered over to the stereo again, fascinated by it. His hand started to twitch. One finger extended and moved closer and closer. There were so many buttons! He selected a solid-looking one and jabbed it, jumping back as a little compartment opened and a shiny silver disk emerged. He grabbed the disk and looked at it curiously.

“’S this a frisby?!

[Hayes Muirso]

“Nonono!!”

Hayes rushed to Trents side and plucked the disk back up, quickly setting it out of reach. Looking across the record rack he selected something that he’d been given as a present – Tiffany Zears – and took it down, removing it from its packet.

“Here.” :D

[Trent Zellan]

Ah ha! He’d stumbled upon one of the forbidden items…Trent was immediately intrigued. His mother had many of those, and they were infinitely more interesting than anything she ever gave him. Trent took the record carefully and hunkered down on the floor, rolling it across the floor.

“Screeaaaaeeeech…Tsew!”

It had been transformed into a speeder. He was seemingly absorbed in his game, which was exactly his intention. Hayes left the room for a brief second, only to visit the ‘fresher, and Trent was up. He dashed to the stereo, stared at it briefly, and then pushed the same button again. To his delight, another disk popped out. His chubby fingers grabbed it eagerly.

“It is a Frisbee!”

Smiling, Trent pulled his arm back and with great flourish, flung the silver object across the living room. It promptly hit the wall with a great clatter and became not a Frisbee…but two rainbow shaped halves. Trent grimaced and tiptoed over to them, kicking the pieces underneath the couch and going back to his ‘speeder’.

“Tsew! Tsew!”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes came back with a cup of something and sat back down, watching Trent as he took a sip. He seemed quite content to mess about with the worthless disk. The Padawan yawned and sat back further into the couch.

“You don’t have any toys at home you would rather play with?”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent shrugged.

“I broked ‘em all. It was a assident.”

He rolled his newfound toy across the floor, watching as it skittered uncertainly before falling flat on its side. The lad got up and chased after it, but just as he reached down to pick it up, his foot propelled it forward noisily, underneath the couch where Hayes now say.

“Oops.”

Trent got down on his belly and reached his hand under, grasping at something and flinging it out, before sticking his hand back under upon finding that it wasn’t his record.

What it happened to be was the Frisbee.

“Where is that stupid thing?”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes glanced up not really paying attention and for a moment saw the broken disk, though thought nothing of it. A second glance and he saw the disk art of the Jump Lanes, split into two even segments. A wince spread all across his expression as he sighed sadly to himself – a priceless piece of music history destroyed.

“I … don’t know, sorry Trent.”

[Trent Zellan]

"Got it!"

He held up the disk proudly and then saw the mans face.

"What's wrong?"

[Hayes Muirso]

He shook his head and forced a little smile.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

[Trent Zellan]

Knitting his eyebrows together Trent clambered up onto the couch.

"Somethin's wrong. What happened?"

He looked at Hayes, concerned.

"Are you broked too?"

[Hayes Muirso]

The Padawan laughed slightly.

“I’m not broken. I think one of my disks might be a little dented though,” he said, a bit more of a smile on his face as he nodded off at the massacred CD.

“It’s alright though.”

[Trent Zellan]

"Oh."

Trent looked down at the pieces.

"Yeah I sawed whut happened. There was this big...thing that came in the window an' it flew around!"

He waved his hand about, above his head.

"An' I tried to stop it but it got the Frisbee an' it broked it an' then it flew away, really fast."

[Hayes Muirso]

“Oooohhh… I will have to keep a look out for the big thing so I can ask it to pay me back.” :mneh

[Trent Zellan]

"Yeah."

Trent lay his head on Hayes' chest, thinking hard.

"I mighta helped jus' a little. But the thing broked it the most."

He added in a quiet voice, burying his face in the Jedi's shirt. Trent surfaced for air after a few seconds and then lay his head back down, beginning to yawn again.

"Misser Hayes...do you got any kids?"

[Hayes Muirso]

He smiled a bit.

“Nope. I used to be a teacher though, so I know quite a few. I don’t think I’ll ever have any of my own though… far too much work,” Hayes added with a grin.

[Trent Zellan]

“Momma says that she shouldn’ta had kids neither.”

Trent scowled.

“An’ she called my daddy a…”

He lowered his voice to a whisper.

“A bastard. Cos he works in the room next to her with the other liars an’ he almost neverer comes an’ sees me. She says that I’m gonna feel bad when I’m a big boy.”

Trent was silent for some time, and it seemed as if he had gone to sleep. But soon his voice chirped up again.

“Misser Hayes, momma sayed that babies happen at sleepovers. An’ you had a sleepover. How come there’s no baby?”


OOC: :mneh

[Hayes Muirso]

There was a definite cringe at Trent’s last words. The others were bareable and could be passed off with an awkward silence… but this?

“Well… you don’t always get a baby when you have a sleep over. It’s like… a game, sort of. It’s just up to luck whether or not you end up with one.”

[Trent Zellan]

"Where does the baby come from?"

He leaned back to look at the man, totally unaware of the growing discomfort.

[Hayes Muirso]

“It, ah, well it grows inside of a woman. Its like making a cake … if you put the right ingredients together, you get a good cake. Or a baby. Not with cake mix of course. With … er … humans.”

He blinked. This was more awkward than when his father had botched up the attempt at giving him ‘the talk’.

[Trent Zellan]

"Huh?"

Trent's face scrunched up.

"Babies come from cakes? I was a cake? In my mom? She ate me?"

[Hayes Muirso]

“No, that’s not what I mean!”

Hayes couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ok… here’s the thing. You started off inside of her. Like in her belly, and you grew in there until you were ready to be born. It’s all pretty complicated and gross stuff really. You don’t want to know about it, believe me.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent was silent for a minute and then, in a very quiet, very slow voice,

"How did I get out?"

[Hayes Muirso]

If anything was going to warp the kids mind, this was probably it.

“You got, ah, pushed out. Sort of. It’s like your moms’ body knows when you’re … er … ready growing and pushes you out.”

[Trent Zellan]

He stared stonily at Hayes and then shivered.

“That’s gross. I was inside her? That’s really dumb. Why don’t they jus’ have babies in stores?”

Trent made a face and stuck his tongue out, as if he were gagging.

“Misser Hayes, I think I wanna go to bed now. ‘M not hungry.”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Er, ok.”

Phew. That was over quickly. Hayes slowly began to get up.

“Let’s head back on over to your room then…”

[Trent Zellan]

"I don't get to sleep here with you?"

Trent looked disapointed.

"Don' you like me?"

[Hayes Muirso]

Half-sitting back down, he smirked slightly.

“I just figured you wanted to go to your room. You can sleep here if you want though. My bed is through there,” a nod off towards the makeshift sleeping area, “if you want to crash on that.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent glanced at the room.

“I bet that the bedtime monsters are scared a you, huh?”

He nodded at the door pointedly.

“You should come in with me, jus’ in case.”

Trent smiled convincingly.

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes blinked, but complied. He got up and followed, pushing open his bedroom door and flicking the light switch on. The bedroom was just as kitsch as the main room, only everything was crammed into one tiny space with a bed, dresser, and wardrobe and so on. The bed was pretty small and had some tie-dyed covers on it.

“Enjoy.”

[Trent Zellan]

Trent looked about carefully before climbing onto the bed. He waved to Hayes, looking very small indeed, and waited for the man to shut out the light and leave. As soon as this was done, the boy lay down. It was perhaps fifteen minutes before he slid off the bed.

Wandering out to the main room, clad only in his tiny ‘Gerry the Gamorrean’ briefs and a pair of socks (his clothes having been tossed on the floor) Trent walked over to Hayes.

“I had a bad dream.”

He placed a hand on the mans knee.

“Maybe you should get a gun. Or come an' maybe lie down too. Jus' in case.”

Trent nodded.

"It was a very bad dream."

[Hayes Muirso]

“Ok. Just for a little bit.”

Hayes followed Trent back into the room and left the dimmer light on dull as he dropped down onto the bed on the opposite side to Trent. He felt a little awkward, having just given him the birds and the bees talk, sleeping by the boy, but did it none the less.

“Sleep well.”

[Abagael Zellan]

It was early morning when she knocked lightly on the door. The seminar had concluded early, thankfully, and she was glad to be back. Abby frowned and tapped on Hayes’ door again, lightly. She didn’t want to wake them if they were sleeping, but the woman was worried that perhaps Trent had killed him. She wouldn’t have put it past the child.

“Hayes?”

Abagael put her face close to the door, whispering loudly.

“It’s me, Abby…”

[Hayes Muirso]

knockknock

Hayes blinked.

whisperwhispershiper

He leant his head to the side and frowned, glancing back at the apparently still sleeping Trent for a moment. He had ended up falling asleep again, all clothed. Feeling a bit groggy, he rubbed his eyes and face with his palms before climbing off of the bed and wandering to open the door. A bit of a smile spread over his lips.

“Hey, how did yesterday go?”

[Abagael Zellan]

She rolled her eyes.

"As well as could be expected, considering the company."

Abby grinned at his disheveled apearance and then grimaced. She squinted her eyes, especting the worst.

"Was it horrible?"

[Hayes Muirso]

“Uhh... no. Just a few little hurdles and bumps at first,”

Hayes grimaced at the literality of this statement.

“… but we got over them.”

[Abagael Zellan]

Her face smoothed in relief and she let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Frell, that’s good. I was so worried he’d be a terror. Guess he’s sleeping?”

Hayes nodded. Abagael nodded too and then jumped.

“Oh, I almost forgot. How much do I owe you? I want to pay you back for watching him.”

[Hayes Muirso]

A little bit taken aback, he shook his head.

“Nah, it’s alright. I don’t want paid anything. Was a pleasure to look after him,” Hayes laughed, scratching the back of his neck absently.

[Abagael Zellan]

Abby laughed.

“Hayes he’s my son, I know a thing or two about him. I’m betting you’ve got at least one broken something. But okay, if you’re sure…”

She smiled.

“But you’ve got to let me repay you. I owe you one.”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes smiled, laughing a little at the comment about broken something’s. He was tempted to throw in a wink, but held back.

“We can just say you owe me a favor and be done with it.”

[Abagael Zellan]

"Alrighty then. I'm gonna go get Trenty."


Abagael smiled and crept into Hayses room, scooping up teh sleeping child in her arms. As she carefully tottered back out, she gave a tiny wave.

"Thanks again. Don't forget about that favor. And feel free to stop by."

[Hayes Muirso]

Giving a little wave in return he smiled and nodded, whispering in reply.

“Will do. See you guys later.”