"REMY IS HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME."

Birdie took a bite of her sandwich, sitting at the counter in Jayne's home, watching as the woman went about cooking lunch for her husband who was sick in bed, coughing up a storm and demanding that he be quarantined for his wife's safety. As a result, the woman called over Birdie, needing someone to entertain her now that her husband was incapacitated.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "I would expect he would, he's an eleven-year-old boy."

Birdie threw up her arms, shaking her head. "But you'd think he'd tell me things, after everything that's happened, the only thing he kept from me was his trying to find Tony, and I don't even like to think about that for long. But I don't think he's hiding something that big anymore."

"Then why are we worried about it if he's hiding something small?" Jayne asked, stirring the soup in the pot, "He has a right to privacy."

"I know, but this is Remy we're talking about," she argued, lowering her voice to a whisper, as if the boy could somehow hear her; knowing him, she wouldn't be surprised if he had done something so he could. "Most kids, they hide that they cheated on a test or have a crush on a girl. Remy? He probably killed someone."

Jayne frowned, shaking her head. "Why do always assume the worst about him, he's a smart boy."

"That's what I'm afraid of!" Birdie cried, "Because he's incredibly smart, but not good at school. He's the kind of smart that gets himself into trouble, and I can't—"

"You need to stop being so afraid of him," Jayne said, and it was the uncharacteristic harshness in her tone that had Birdie speechless, "He's a good boy, he would never hurt anyone, you know that."

Birdie bit her lip. "I know. I know, I know, I don't know—I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Jayne said, "I'm not the one who you're afraid of."

"I-I'm not—" she tried to argue, but there was no point in arguing what was true. "I don't know why."

Jayne pursed her lips. "Ever since he was born, you've been afraid of him. You never stopped to think why?"

Birdie bit her lip, eyes hardening. "I love my son."

"I believe you," Jayne said, because she always did, "But you can't look at him and see all these terrible things you think he's never going to do."

Birdie nodded. "I know."

"Talk to him," Jayne urged, "Really talk to him. When was the last time you really spent time with him?"

Birdie hung her head low. "I know the work takes up all my time, but I want him to have a good future."

"That's all any parent wants," Jayne said, now leaned across from her from her side of the counter, "But don't you want to know your son before he ends up leaving? And I know your situation is hard, I know, but try a little harder."

Birdie raised her head, nodding minutely towards Jayne who held her gaze, no trace of mirth in sight. With a sigh, she turned back to her sandwich, the room engulfed in a painful silence. Birdie fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to come up with something to say, but finding that there was nothing to say.

So there was just silence.

º º º

Birdie stepped out of her car, unused to parking within the grounds, rather than outside, waiting for Remy to make her way to her. Adjusting her clothes, she looked around at all the families heading home with their children, the bell just having run five minutes before.

As she made her way towards the entrance of the school, searching for Remy through the sea of children. Feeling someone looking at her, she turned her head to find a small group of women looking at her with clear judgement, eyeing her blazer and slacks, as she had been working before deciding to take an early day. She forced herself to school her features, not wanting these women to get the satisfaction of knowing that they were right in thinking what they were; just because she wasn't at the school every day hovering over her son did not make her a bad mother.

That wasn't to say she wasn't a bad mother. But having a job and giving her son space at school was not the reason why.

Catching sight of Marc who was standing by the basketball court, smiling at something she couldn't quite see, she made her way towards him, careful not to bump into the running children, catching one right before she fell, smiling over at her father who gave her an apologetic look, reminding the young girl to be careful.

When he caught sight of her, he immediately straightened his posture, giving her a polite smile, walking towards her so she wouldn't have to cross the grass that would no doubt give underneath her heels.

"Hi, Ms. Walsh," Marc greeted, glancing over towards the court, "Remy's over there."

Turning to follow his gaze, she couldn't help but be surprised to see him holding a basketball, a flower crown perched on his head, a blond boy standing behind him, trying to teach him how to make a free throw, the smaller boy's eyebrows furrowed in concentration and almost fear. Not the fear of being hurt, but the fear of failing.

Just before he was about to try, Remy caught sight of her and grinned with relief, dropping the ball and rushing towards her, barreling forward and wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her blouse.

"Thank God," he breathed, a blush bloomed on his cheeks as he pulled away, grinning up at her, "Hi, mom, why're you here early?"

She reached out and smoothed his hair, smiling down at him. "I was thinking we could go to the store and get you a new video game we could play together. If you want."

If Remy had brightened when he caught sight of her initially, the news had him beaming and he immediately rushed over towards his backpack, ready to go, caught by Marc just before he tripped on a lifted part of the ground, his flower crown falling off his head, though he picked it back up immediately.

"I'll play again tomorrow," Remy promised, looking towards Gage who was holding the ball, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Okay," the boy said easily, saying goodbye and making his way back to the other boys who were playing a game of their own, easily taking a position, his attention now averted.

"See you tomorrow," Marc called out, waving as Remy grabbed Birdie's hand and tugged her away, the smaller boy waving back before trying to leave even faster, but Birdie stopped him.

"Slow down, the store isn't going anywhere," she tried, but Remy just kept tugging her along, almost desperate.

"I know," he said, and he glanced back towards the basketball court momentarily before continuing to pull her along, "But I wanna go now."

Deciding that there was no dissuading him, she allowed herself to be pulled away, unable to keep from glancing over at the group of mothers who looked at the two of them with clear judgement and slightly disdain, and she hurried along with Remy, trying not to go so fast so as to start tugging him along.

When the two were in her car, they paused for a moment, Birdie taking a few calming breaths to tamp down the anger rising in her chest, and Remy just leaning back, waiting for her to finally open her eyes before speaking.

"Why're we getting a new video game?" he asked as she turned on the ignition and backed out of the parking lot.

She shrugged. "Just because. How was school today, did you make that flower crown?"

While not fully believing her flippant response, Remy still reached up and took off his flower crown, holding it in his hands. "No, Stephanie made it for me. I forgot to bring mine today, so she just made me one."

Birdie nodded, licking her lips. "Who's Stephanie?"

Narrowing his eyes, Remy didn't respond, clearly catching Birdie's little scheme, and she inwardly cursed herself and sighed, shoulders slumping slightly, but she couldn't find it in herself to be all that surprised. Pushing those thoughts away, she focused back on the task at hand and handed Remy her phone, telling him to look up the directions to the store where Tony had taken him to get his game console.

Remy did quickly, trying not to show just how delighted he was at the fact that his mother wanted to play video games with him again. When he first got his original game console, she used to play with him all the time, sometimes switching with Mark who always played with him. It was one of the things that he could remember enjoying, always having fun playing with both of his parents. He did have fun with the two of them, though, now, he mostly thought negatively of Mark, and Birdie hadn't played with him in quite some time.

"Did you already finish playing the game Tony got for you?" she asked, the two climbing out of the car and making their way out onto the sidewalk, surprised that they even found a parking space.

"I finished it a while ago," he said, walking alongside her, hands swinging, "I finished the other game you got me too."

She raised an eyebrow. "That was fast."

He shrugged. "It was a story game and it was pretty straightforward, but it was really fun."

She felt a pang of guilt for not being able to get him more gifts, and that was partly due to their financial situation, though she would be lying if she claimed that it wasn't because she didn't know what he would even want. That should have been her first clue that something was wrong.

Once again, not wanting to dampen her own mood, she pushed the thoughts out of her mind and followed him into the air-conditioned room, watching as the man at the countered perked up at the sight of Remy, only to deflate when he saw her.

She raised an challenging eyebrow at him and he looked away, clearing his throat. "Hi, can I help you find anything?"

"No, we're good," she replied shortly, walking over towards where Remy was crouched down, running a finger across the spines of the games, mumbling softly to himself as he read out the titles.

"I heard this one's really scary," he gasped, pulling out a game with a cover that Birdie couldn't approve of in good conscience.

"Don't you want a nicer game, you already have a scary game," she tried, though with the way the boy was reading the back, it was clear that she wasn't going to win the argument.

Yet he still looked up at her, ready to argue his case, but also resigned to the fact that, if she said no, he wouldn't be allowed to buy it, though he didn't look too happy with the realization. It was sad thing to see and Birdie couldn't help but feel guilty about it.

"Okay, but if it gets too scary or they start doing stuff that you're not old enough to see, we're returning it," she said, trying to keep a straight face and firm tone, even as Remy cheered and grabbed it from her hand, making his way to the counter.

Following him to the counter, Birdie pulled out her wallet, raising an eyebrow at the man who seemed ready to ask Remy a question, and the man immediately remembered himself, deciding not to ask, though it was clear that he was most likely planning on asking about Tony.

"Thank you," Birdie said shortly, taking the bag from the man, handing it over to Remy who took it happily, the two making their way out of the store.

"Did you have to do the face?" Remy asked as they made their way back to their car.

"What do you mean?" she asked, the two climbing inside.

"You know," the boy said, raising his chin and schooling his features, raising his eyebrow and, generally, looking very haughty, "The lawyer face you use when you're doing one of those cross examinations."

She frowned. "How do you know what I look like when I'm doing my crosses?"

"I sat in the audience thing a few times," he explained, and it was so matter-of-fact that she decided not to point out that, most of the time, her back was to those people.

"Let's go," he urged, kicking his feet slightly, "Come on, I wanna go play the game."

"You don't get to play until you finish your homework and take a shower," she said, backing out of the parking space, because she was still his mother and wasn't about to neglect her responsibilities to get her son to like her.

Remy groaned loudly, whining. "But, mom..."

"Do you want me to return it?" she tried, pausing momentarily, and couldn't help smiling as he shook his head furiously, shouting at her to get out of the way before people got mad at them for blocking traffic.

They were about halfway home when Remy spoke again. "Thanks, mom."

She smiled, reaching out to smooth his hair. "No problem, baby."

º º º

It was around midnight and Birdie didn't want to admit that she was still awake because of how terrifying Remy's game was.

The two finished eating dinner after Remy showered, wanting to play right after, sitting on the couch and booting up the game. It had started out fine enough at first, but had quickly become the stuff of nightmares, terrifying creatures popping up at unexpected times as the story progressed and each time she stood up to tell him that they were returning the game because he was getting too scared, he would tug her back down and argue that, no, he wasn't.

While she knew that she shouldn't have allowed him to continue playing for well over an hour, she wanted to use this as an opportunity to teach him a lesson, to see if he really could handle it or if he was scared and, if it were the latter, to explain to him the importance of knowing when he couldn't handle things and to step away.

Her mother did it all the time with her and scary movies; she understood why he didn't want to admit he was scared.

It was past midnight now and she had turned on a cooking channel, letting it play mindlessly in the background while she worked on the case she had, glad that she couldn't find it in herself to be too stressed out by it.

As she dug deeper into the defendant's history, she heard the door creak open, her heart racing as he head snapped up to look over at the dark figure silhouetted by the lit hallway, only to relax when she caught sight of Remy.

"BUDDY's scared," he tried to argue, turning back towards his room, the inflatable robot peering out at the sound of his name, nodding in affirmation.

Birdie tried not to smile and nodded, motioning for Remy and BUDDY to come into the room, telling him to turn off the hallway light. Remy told BUDDY to do that, racing towards the bed, only to remember himself and walk slower, though she could tell he was on edge.

He climbed in quickly and pressed up against her, burying himself underneath the covers, glad that her laptop, the side lamp, and the TV were giving off a fair amount of light so he could fall asleep without being too afraid.

She looked over at BUDDY who waddled into the room, turning off the light and closing the door, taking a seat on the chair which was near the side Remy was on. She raised an eyebrow at him and, after a few moments—most likely him processing the expression—he spoke.

"I was afraid of the game you were playing. I can hook up to the TV and watched you play."

Birdie bit her lip to keep from laughing, trying to seem serious, nodding and reaching out to run her hand through Remy's hair soothingly, her son relaxing under her touch. He was clearly very scared, and it just didn't feel right to try and lecture him while he was already learning his lesson.

"You have to sleep in your own room tomorrow, okay?" she said, putting her work away and moving so she was lying down, holding him close, the way she had when Mark first left.

He nodded, already starting to fall asleep. "Okay."

She had planned on staying awake, waiting until he fell asleep before she went back to work, but found herself soothed by the comfort of someone else in the room, as well as BUDDY who, though a slight terror when just seated in the dark corner, was also a comforting presence, emitting a dull glow and a light comforting hum of soothing music.

Just before she fell asleep, she heard Remy mumble every so softly.

"Love you, mom."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I just wanted mother/son bonding time, there's literally nothing else to it. I just wanted Birdie to acknowledge that, in her attempt to take care of Remy, she had distanced herself from him, and it's a theme that's going to be explored much more later on, so be prepared for that.

That's all I have to say, so thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!