Family Ties [Sol]

"Okay, we'll talk later." She promised, ruffling up his hair.

"You know what, ice cream sounds really good. Let's go with that!" She grinned at him. "You know what, we'll get banana splits, they have fruit and nuts on them, and that makes them healthy, right?" She winked.

The two headed down the street towards one of the local ice cream places, where she ordered sundaes for the both of them, settling down at a table by the window where they could look outside and watch everyone that came and went.

"So, what things would you like to talk about?" She asked, starting to eat from the large mount of ice cream and toppings in front of her.

Solomon's face brightened when his mother agreed to ice cream, even more so when she mentioned banana splits, "oooh yes! Banana splits sound perfect!" He laughed at her reasoning, not really caring if they were healthy or not, "oh totally! It counts!" He laughed as he followed her down the street, hand in hand, to the ice cream shop.

He was eager to sit when she led them to the table, digging in when the food was set down. He still looked unsure when she invited him to talk, he had a lot of things he wanted to say, but he didn't know how well he could keep his composure, and he didn't want to lose it in this public place, "I-I...C-can I talk later?" He looked around, "there's so many people..." He smiled up at her, "a-and I'd rather listen to you right now! S-so you go first..." He would feel better talking when it was just them, or he hoped he would.

"We can talk later, sure!" She assured him with a bright smile, eating more of her treat as she did.

"Oh, so you want me to talk, hmm?" She considered that for a minute. "Well, what's interesting lately? Mostly working a lot, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about all that boring stuff." She worked with designer and luxury goods, but fancy purses or shoes or whatever else was fashionable at the moment wasn't overly of interest to a young boy, she was sure.

"Once we do get home though we really need to finish getting that basement cleaned out. So what do you think...if you had your choice, would you rather stay in that house? Or we can look at getting another house. Or maybe even an apartment in the city proper, would you like that?" She asked, maybe a touch anxiously, wanting him to feel like he also had some say in what happened to his life going forward.

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He hated being down here, especially recently, he wasn't afraid of the dark or of the creepy crawlies, it was the memories that hung around down here, old photographs and knickknacks that spoke of a time when they were a family, he used to enjoy looking back, but now it only hurt. He only grasped what was going on in the simple way that kids often grasp such things, but it was enough to tell him that his life would never be the same again, that there wouldn't be happy mornings where everyone was laughing, or family vacations, he didn't even know how long there would b a family.

He hated his father's refusal to talk about anything, but sometimes he disliked his mother's oversharing more, he felt like she expected him to know how to fix this, for him to know what to do about this, she spoke to him like an adult, and the differing methods between the two left the boy rather overwhelmed quite often. He'd never lost his cool in front of them, but sometimes it would when he was alone in his room, and he would stuff himself in the closet where there was no sound or light.

He glanced up at his mother, "I never answered you...A-about the house..." He looked down, "I don't want to stay here..." There were good memories here, sure, but it felt like there were twice as many bad ones lately.

Amanda paused, looking over from where she was sorting through a mound of Christmas decorations.

"Yeah? That's fine, we can find somewhere else." She gave him an encouraging smile, secretly a bit relieved. She would not have denied him if he'd asked to stay, but she didn't want to stay in this place either.

"Maybe get a place in the city?" She offered, something she'd long wanted herself. "And hey, then you'd have a new school too! Solves that problem too, right?" Her cheerfulness felt a little forced but she was trying.

"Or maybe even go someplace totally new? I mean, your dad is looking at places in DC, there's no reason we need to stay in New York either if we don't want, right?"

He nodded, his face a little absent as he looked through an old album, it was a trip they'd taken several years back, he flipped through it as he listened to her speak, nodding, "yeah...I think it would be nice to have a new place...A new school..." It was clear by his voice that he was distracted, and glancing through the photos brought tears bubbling up in his eyes, he remembered this trip, it had been the best summer he'd ever had. Would he ever get moments like these again?

"DC...Y-what?!" He glanced up at her with a shocked expression, "Why is dad looking at places in DC?!" He held the album against his chest, eyes wide, "He's leaving us?!" His grip on the photo album tightened as he started to shake, "D-dad can't leave!" He felt rooted to the spot as he tried to process the information, all the months of forcing all this stress and anxiety down, and now he could feel his chest getting tight, "Why is this happening?!" He looked up at her with a desperate expression, "why didn't he tell me?! Why has no one told me?!" He wrapped his arms tight around the album, holding it to his chest as he collapsed to a sitting position on the ground.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry for...For whatever I did! I'm sorry..." He was forcing back sobs now, "I tried to smile for you and daddy so maybe things would be okay! I tried!" He was shaking under his emotions, "I don't want Daddy to go away...I'll never see him again!" He made a pitiful noise and cradled the album in his arms, "I don't want to never have another family vacation, I just want my family back!" His tears were streaming now and he wasn't trying to quell them now.

Amanda realized just a moment too late, a moment too late to take the words back, what was happening here.

"Shit." She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling for a moment with a quietly muttered "Dammit anyway, Ian!"

She quickly turned her attention back to Sol. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry I thought he would have said..." No, of course he wouldn't have. He didn't say things, he didn't talk about them, that's what part of the problem was in the first place.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." She came to sit next to him on the floor, not even sure where to start the damage control here, and his pain tore at her until tears welled in her own eyes. Some of his words drew a more serious tone through her own tears though.

"No. Sol, honey, look at me. This isn't you, okay? This isn't your fault...*at all*. And don't...I don't want you to ever feel like you have to just pretend to be happy, that you can't be not okay. That's...what your father does, he thinks if he's the silently suffering martyr all the damn time it makes it easier on all of us...but it's not, it's not, okay? Don't do that. Don't do that to yourself." She half pleaded, through this whole process she'd rarely talked poorly about Ian but this was something she'd never been able to help in him, and would not let take root in her son without a fight.

"I'm sorry I couldn't fix this, and you have every right in the world to be sad or scared or angry...if you want to yell or cry or throw things...it's okay."

Solomon shot her a look that was distressed and angry, "Daddy never tells me anything!" He'd set aside the album he'd been holding and closed his eyes tightly, putting a hand over his chest and looking down, "He never says anything!" He let out a choked little sob and pressed his hands into his eyes, "he wasn't gonna tell me! He was just gonna leave me alone!" He looked down and his voice became softer, "he was gonna leave me...He doesn't care at all..." He'd always been especially close to his father, the two were so alike, but this just made him feel betrayed, "I don't want Daddy to go away forever..."

He was cut short when his mother spoke, looking up at her reluctantly. He didn't believe her, not fully, and his expression showed that, "I just...Thought maybe if I kept smiling...It would help you and daddy feel better..." He looked down and reached his hands to press them into the sides of his head, "but I c-can't...I'm sorry...I can't keep doing this..." His shaking worsened and he rocked himself slightly, "I keep getting these scared...Buzzy feelings and it feels like my head is going to explode! Like there just angry bees and wasps swarming in my chest...I'm scared...I don't know what to do or how to feel!" He curled in tighter and whimpered, "you say to many things and daddy wont say anything at all! I don't know who or what to even believe!" He slipped his hands up into his hair and gripped it tight, "I just want my family back...I just want things to be quiet..."