Tears cannot run dry when I hear people speak of how you'd be so proud of me.

- TWO DAYS -

A small, bundled up baby boy rested in the sturdy arms of a rather short man. The tiny, pudgy fingers of the newborn reached for the man's beard with a barrage of adorable babbles. The man happily smiled down at the infant and raised one of his hands to allow him to grasp onto it.

"Hey there," he whispered softly, careful not to wake up the blue-haired woman in the room next to them. Again, he repeated his words. "Hey..."

The baby merely stared up at him with a twinkle of amusement in his bright blue eyes. He had ceased in messing with the man's fingers, but still held onto them as tightly as his small body would allow.

With a chuckle, the man kissed the baby's forehead. "I love you, my son..."

- SEVEN MONTHS -

"Darling dearest!?" A light, twittering voice lifted throughout the house and met a man's ears. "Darling, sweetheart, honey! Do you think you could possibly feed the baby for just a little while?"

The man, in response, clambered his way down the stairs. In a rushed attempt to get his clothing on, his head had happened to go through the sleeve which caused him to look anything but decent.

"Yeah, I will, just give me a few moments!" he called back, fixing himself with the same amount of speed.

As he stepped to where his wife was, he caught sight of his son and burst out with laughter. The baby boy had managed to get the food his mother was feeding him everywhere but into his mouth, and seemed fairly adamant about keeping it that way.

"Hey, kid!" The man called out playfully, catching the seven-month-old's attention. When the child saw his father, an adorable grin stretched across his face and he threw his hands out in front of him, gesturing for his father's hand.

"D-daaa..." The baby trailed off, scrunching his nose up cutely. "Daaa-daa! Dad-dddaa!"

The man shared a bewildered look with his wife before they both burst out into laughter. The man speedily walked over to his son and picked him up from his seat. "You did it!" he laughed, watching as the baby continued to repeat the word.

- TWO YEARS -

"Dada! Dada!" A squealing, light-haired child stumbled through the house with a handful of diced fruits. Following behind him was his mother, who was smiling softly all the while. "Dada!"

The same short man strolled out of a room in the house and gave his son a toothy-smirk. Crouching down to meet his height, the man grunted as the boy impacted with him.

"Dada! Look!" The toddler held up the fruits in his hand and waved them in front of his father's face.

The man huffed out a laugh, meeting his sons eyes. "I see. Got some fruits, do ya?"

His son nodded happily and brought his full hand down. In a split second, he looked down at the fruit and picked out a small piece. Again, he held a hand up to his father's face, but this time he pressed the fruit to the man's lips.

"You have, too!" The child cried profusely, pushing with all his might.

His father took the piece of fruit from the child and popped it into his mouth. As he stood, he ruffled his son's hair. "Thanks, kid!"

- SEVEN YEARS -

"I don't like 'em," the child muttered, proceeding to take off the glasses that were perched atop his face. "Make me look bad..."

"Now, come on, kid!" His father took the glasses from his smaller hands and delicately placed them back onto his face. "They make ya look smart - pretty cool, too."

The boy narrowed his eyes at the older man, watching as he gave him one of his natural smiles.

"Are you sure?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side in curiosity. If his dad thought they were cool, then they had to be!

"I'm absolutely sure," the man practically gushed out, pinching his son's cheeks.

"Dada! Dada, stop!" the child pleaded, slapping at the man's wrists. "Nooo! No pinching!"

- TWELVE YEARS -

The boy sniffled, holding his right hand close to him. His mother stood in front of him, holding her hands out.

"Now, son," she began, speaking softly, "you know that there's nothing I can do unless you let me see your hand."

"I want Dad!" the boy howled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Dad'll make it all better!"

The woman watched her son sadly and crouched down to face him as his father would do. "Son, you know that your father's at a council meeting right now. I wish he could be here too, but you're just going to have to bear with me here. Please?"

"When will he be back?" the boy asked. He already knew the answer and his mother was aware of that, but she answered anyway.

"Two days," she whispered to him with a small smile. "Two days and we can all have fun together again, alright?"

Her son nodded with a sigh and let his mother take hold of his injured hand.

- SEVENTEEN YEARS -

"Yes! I did it!" The boy's now hoarse voice echoed throughout the entire house. He continued to cheer, and soon began bouncing around - though not without knocking over a flower or two.

A mass of loud thumps merged with his cheering until his father came into view. "You finished it?" he questioned loudly.

"Yes! Look at it!" The teen held up his hand, and with a little bit of concentration blue flickers appear at the tips of his fingers. They traveled up near the roof of the room then let out a little burst of energy.

His dad gasped in surprise, his gaze shifting back to his son. "In just a few days you can already do that?"

"It's amazing, right!?" The younger male trotted over towards his dad, an expectant simper stretched from ear to ear on his face.

"It's magnificent!"

The man went to hug his son and wrapped his arms all the way around his body. The teen hugged him back, chuckling lightly.

- TWENTY-TWO YEARS -

"Dad, dad!" The boy screeched, reaching out for his father's hand. "Dad, please! Don't let them do this! I didn't do it!"

The man fought against the two magicians holding him back, snarling at them. "Let me go, you insufferable weasels!"

"Dad, please!" Tears were streaming down his son's face at this point. His glasses at been knocked off of his face as he reached out once more. "DAD! I DON'T WANT TO DIE - NO, PLEASE! I DIDN'T DO IT, I SWEAR! IT WASN'T ME!!" With a heart-wrenching sob, the other magicians dragged the young man away from his father.

"You can't do this!" the man barked out, struggling to wrestle himself out of their grips. "You can't do this to him!" With one last burst of energy, he broke out even for a moment. The men carrying his son away stopped for a second to look back at him, but began to walk even faster.

"DAD!"

The man caught up to the others and immediately grabbed at the collar of one of the men. As the whole group was jerked back, he took his son's face in his hands.

"Listen - we'll get you out of this. We have time, alright?"

The four men didn't pull back, but let the older male have this last - or so they thought - moment with his son.

The twenty-two year old continued to cry, but his father took the liberty of wiping his tears away with his thumbs. He kissed his forehead, then let go.

"Dad! Dad, no!"

"I love you! I'll get you back, I swear to Arawn!"

- TWENTY-SEVEN -

"Have you talked to Ronan lately?"

"Not since we saw him three years ago."

"Oh."

-

I finally wrote your song, at last. I'm sorry that this one came out so sad...
...any tear I had was shed for the man who gave me a better sense.

-
-

HaPPY SAD FATHER'S DAY FROM AVA.
YEAH.
THIS HURT TO WRITE.
I LOVE RONAN A LOT MORE NOW.
HAH.

- Aveh