Duke calls

It's often said that life is a marathon, and for Mason, childcare felt like one, but with sprints and hurdles. 

Sprinting to catch Nico when he was about to fall from the sofa, or because he tried to climb a chair and got stuck, and hurdles like bath time. He had tried bribing him with snacks before the baths, putting toys and making a whole activity out of it, and even threatened him with no dinner, but when it came down to it, Nico still cried.

"It's always a fight to get you here, but then you enjoy playing in the water," mumbled Mason with a deep sigh, watching Nico with the bubbles. Staying home to keep Nico hidden was Mason's go-to strategy after Ty handed him over, but at the time, he had hoped everything would be fixed within the week. He had been too optimistic. 

In a blink, time went by with no contact from Ty, and Mason couldn't stay in the house any longer; he needed fresh air other than what he got from the balcony. On the other hand, Nico didn't seem bothered by staying at home every day. In fact, besides bath time, nothing seemed to faze him enough to change his expression and get a glimpse of what was going on in his little brain.

The following day, after breakfast, they went out for the first time. For a seemingly important and secret child, the bag that came with him only had clothes out of size for him with small holes or little stains. It housed a couple of t-shirts and shorts, not even one pair of trousers, some underwear, and some random toys: a couple of wooden blocks, a soft ball and an incomplete book. Besides the dummy he never parted with, Nico wasn’t attached to anything else inside that bag.

Fifth rule of assassination: don't get attached to the target.

This had never been a problem for Mason. However, Nico wasn't a target for assassination and buying some clothes and toys to entertain him wouldn't get him attached. With that in mind, they went into the madness of looking for children's clothes.

"It looks good on you," Mason said after trying out some clothes on Nico. The tiniest smile popped up on Mason's lips, seeing Nico looking at himself in the mirror, his eyes big with a small tinge to his cheeks. He controlled his expression, seeing the child staring at his reflection with awe, but against his wishes, his smile showed, even if restrained.

It took longer than expected, but Mason was able to get everything done by mid-afternoon, and despite all they walked, Nico didn't complain. On the way home, Mason was ready to carry Nico if he asked, but instead, when Nico stopped, it was to stare at a small playground across the street.

"Do you want to go?"

Nico's eyes brightened for a moment before he returned to his expressionless face and shook his head. Mason had passed by that street countless times, but he had never looked twice at the old playground. "Come on, we still have time."

Nico's eyes didn't leave the slide, and despite his blank face, Mason noticed the slight tremble of his lips and his hand clenching his clothes. Only when Mason put the bags down and moved closer to the slide did Nico step closer as well, his eyes on Mason as if asking for permission. When Mason nodded, Nico went up the stairs and once again stopped, watching Mason go around and stand at the end of the slide.

The slide took two seconds, if that, but for Nico, it was two seconds of awe and fun, so much that once he stopped, and Mason's face was right there in front of him, it took him a second to show it. But he did, he smiled the brightest with his whole face, and Mason returned the smile. They lost count of how many times Nico went down the slide, but each time, the smile was bigger until it turned into small giggles as his cheeks turned red. That innocent smile was contagious, and Mason couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Eighth rule of assassination: never show your true feelings.

As Nico climbed the stairs for the umpteenth time, a little girl rushed into the playground straight for the swings with her mother just behind. All colour from Nico's face evaporated, and he went down the slide back to his blank expression and rushed to Mason's side, who smiled politely at the woman.

"It's okay, my daughter is a social butterfly like me and gets along with everybody. But why is such a big boy still using a dummy?" said the woman, pushing her daughter on the swing while smiling at Nico, as if they had been in the middle of a conversation. "I threw hers away, and she cried for a couple of days, but that was it. I mean, it hurt to see her cry, but most kids in her daycare class no longer used them, and it would look bad if she did."

Despite her friendly smile, her words were filled with poison, and Mason's jaw clenched despite the smile he showed. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. He seems around the same age as my daughter, and it was just friendly advice. Seeing as it's you here instead of his mother, I just assumed–"

"It's okay," said Mason with the most blatantly fake smile. He couldn't bear to hear her voice any longer.

Without another word, he held Nico in his arms, grabbed the bags and left. His reply was unnecessary, a wasted effort since they wouldn't see each other again, and he should have just blocked out the stringy voice and let her speak. But those words were an attack, even if she didn’t mean them to be, and they were directed at a child who couldn’t even speak. Nico didn’t deserve that.

Maybe Mason was more sensitive after dealing with her, but he swore that Nico was holding onto him harder than he normally did. Maybe Mason’s grip on him was firmer, too.

The outing had taken its toll on both, and for a long while they sat in silence, in the comfort of the sofa. Nico held the soft ball, and Mason slumped, eyes closed, until his phone disturbed them.

He pondered not even getting up to see who was calling, but the small chance that it could be Ty had him dragging his feet to his phone on the kitchen counter.

The shouting on the other end was so loud that it startled even Nico, who was a few steps away. Mason had to take a deep breath to keep from disconnecting the call and understand why Duke was calling.

"After charging me that much,” Duke continued his yelling, giving no time for a reply. Mason imagined the man foaming at his mouth in anger with the way he growled, and even though his instinct was to push Duke’s buttons to annoy him further, he didn’t. Instead, he put his phone down, grabbed a cup of water and waited for Duke to make his point. “I warned you!” Duke was weaving after all that, and Mason wondered if his throat was hurting from the strain.

“If you don’t make sense soon, I’ll hang up," said Mason.

“You think this is funny? I paid every fucking cent you asked, and you let that woman live? You’re next on my list.”

Mason stared at his phone for a beat, trying to make sense of what Duke was saying, but it was impossible. The woman, Sarah, died that night. Before Mason could ask what he meant, Duke disconnected the call.