Patrick pushes the door open, leading Nia into his home again. He watches her trudge inside, her footsteps heavy and her eyes darkening. He frowns at the sight and closes the door behind them. Nia makes her slow beeline towards the couch, but Patrick rushes to her before she can claim it.

"Hey," he calls out gently. He grabs her arm, stopping her. Nia slowly looks up at the man, her violet eyes on a canvas of irritated red. Patrick's heart cracks at the sight, much like it always did many years ago.

"How about you take my bed again?" the blonde suggests. "I don't mind it."
"Buster, I'm just gonna rest my eyes," Nia mumbles sleepily. "It won't be long, I'll be fine."
"You need more rest than that, Nia," he states. Concern coats his words as he studies the struggling woman. "I know you. You probably didn't sleep well last night."
"What about Stello?" Nia asks. "I gotta pick him up from school—"
"I'll pick him up—"
"No, you don't have to," she groans. "Just give me thirty minutes and I'll be okay."

Despite her protests, Patrick leads her to his bedroom. He sits her down on the bed, allowing her to get comfortable. Instantly, Nia lies down and rests her head on a nearby pillow.

"You had a really long, bad day," Patrick points out. He claims a seat next to Nia and runs his hand through her hair. The wavy strands still feel as soft as he remembers. Patrick fights the urge to smile at the sensation against his fingertips. "I just need you to rest, alright? I'll take care of Costello and get him home safe. I just need you to write the address down and rest."

Nia is silent for a moment, then she lets out a slightly annoyed huff as she reaches for the nearby pen and notebook on Patrick's nightstand. Normally, Patrick would tense at the action. But it was Nia, the girl who knew him inside and out despite the missing eight years. The violet-eyed girl flips to an empty page and scrawls the school address and what time it is let out on the paper.

"If anything happens—" she says as she finishes the last of the information, "— and I mean anything... call me. Immediately."
"I will, don't worry," Patrick reassures. "Go to sleep. I've got it from here."

* * *

Patrick had the rest of the day to himself. With all the events that had occurred earlier, he would have often found himself mulling over every detail in his head until he could feel himself wanting to explode. Not this time. Instead, Patrick kept himself busy as everything ran through his head again all while Nia slept peacefully in his room.

He cleaned the dirty dishes in the kitchen, putting them away as he tried to forget the pain in Ricky's eyes. He wiped down counters and put away items that were misplaced, trying to repress the burning questions and unanswered theories. He gathered his keys, trying to go over mental lists of things he needs to do before picking up Costello.

I think I've passed by the school before. Do I need to pick up more groceries before then or after?

Patrick glances towards the direction of his room. His racing head falls silent and still for a moment. His feet immediately guide him towards the room, but he doesn't fight against it. He quietly peeks around the door frame, spotting Nia deep in her slumber. The dark circles that consumed her once lively eyes are slowly fading.

A smile twitches at Patrick's lips, his chest stirring at the rare sight. He hesitates, then makes his way out the house. Patrick knew Nia would be asleep for a while. She could use as much as she can to break the information to her son.

Patrick drives around the town that is a safe distance between his home and Costello's school. Every now and again, he glances at Nia's rushed penmanship to remind himself that he needs to be at the school by 2:15. His eyes trace the careless lines, a chuckle forming in his chest. Her penmanship hasn't changed since junior year of high school.

Patrick shakes himself out of his trance and glances at the clock on his radio. He estimates the time in his head, figuring he should head to the elementary school. He does so, leaving him five minutes to wait for the young child.

Cars and minivans alike also line up with Patrick's 1992 Corolla. It subsides the bit of anxiety that threatens to build in the pit of his stomach. Despite his hands gripping the steering wheel, his fingers occasionally straying from the fists to drum on the dashboard in random burst, he exhales.

How the hell do you tell a kid that you're their father?, he asks himself. Patrick's blue eyes flick to the rear view mirror mounted on his windshield. He takes the time to fidget with his hair, trying to convince himself he doesn't look like a mad man.

He'll recognize me. Right?

The bell rings. A sea of children escape the school gates, all of them dispersing to different directions towards their ways home. Patrick cautiously watches out the window for the little boy, hoping he can pinpoint him.

He sees a boy with wavy brown hair wearing a Donatello backpack. Patrick starts to reel in the child's features. He has Nia's tangling hair, and his own blue, round eyes. He shares the same nose as his mother, pointy and "almost elf-like"— how Patrick had explained in many years ago; he also shares his father's mouth and jaw.

A warm, strong feeling seeps through Patrick as he watches the boy. He can't quite identify the name of the feeling. Pride? Familiarity?

Before he knew it, Costello was wandering along the sidewalk with confusion etched in his precious features. Patrick fumbles for a moment, then gives his horn a short beep to gain his attention. Quickly, he rolls down the window and calls out to the boy.

"Hey! Costello!" the man exclaims. Costello looks over at him, curiosity now mixing with his confusion. Cautiously, he approaches Patrick's car.

"Hey, kiddo," Patrick smiles. "Remember me? Patrick? Your mom's friend?"
"Uh-huh," he replies.
"She told me to come pick you up."

Costello narrows his eyes at Patrick in a skeptical way that only Patrick could do. It scared him, but also amused him all the same.

"If Mommy told you to pick me up, then who's the best Ninja Turtle?" Costello quizzes.
"Obviously, Donatello," Patrick scoffs confidently. Costello starts to back away from the car.
"Wait!" Patrick calls out, panic and worry rising in his chest. "Costello, wait! I've known your mom for a very long time. She works at the observatory in town. She gave you a Raphael toy and you sleep with it every night. She told me all about it."

Costello studies Patrick for a moment, shifting on his feet nervously. Patrick has no other option but to watch him and hope he believes him. After a moment, Costello opens the back door and sits in the seat adjacent to Patrick. He snaps his seatbelt in. Patrick can't help but to release a sigh of relief with a smile.

"For the record, Raphael is the best Ninja Turtle," Costello argues. "I'm only taking Donatello because he's second best, mister...?"
"Just call me Patrick," the man says, his voice uncomfortably cracking around his own name.
"There's a kid in my class named Patrick," Costello says. Patrick raises a brow at the information as he drives through school traffic.

"Oh yeah? That's cool," Patrick hums.
"He said that Pokémon is better than Ninja Turtles," Costello comments. Patrick feigns a cringe for the child.
"Can't really agree with that," he chuckles.

Silence claims the car. Costello rummages through his backpack for a moment, retrieving the old plush of Raphael. Patrick glances at the boy, noticing the toy. A pang spreads through his chest.

"Your mom gave you that, right?" Patrick asks. Costello nods.
"Uh-huh," he answers, his attention not wavering from the stuffed doll.
"Wanna know where she got it from?"
"Yeah."
"Before she moved to California, I gave that to her. I told her it would keep the monsters and bad dreams away," Patrick reminisces. "I really hope Raphael is doing his job for you, kiddo."
"He is," Costello says. He cracks a smile at the toy, but it starts to fade. A light that was strong in his eyes starts to dim.

"Sometimes, I wish I could give it back to Mommy. She told me it would keep monsters and bad dreams away. But I heard Mommy crying because of monsters and nightmares before we left home. I think we left home because she was scared of the monsters," Costello relays. Patrick's heart plummets to the pit of his stomach. He tries to watch the boy force the dark topic out all the while keeping his attention on the road.

"Yeah?" Patrick asks gently, eyeing Costello's reflection. "W-What kind of monsters and nightmares?"
"Something about Daddy. Maybe he can get rid of them and that's why we left. She never told me why we left. I remember Mommy and Daddy screaming. Maybe they saw a monster. Raphael can beat them up. Right, Patrick?"
"Absolutely," Patrick agrees, trying to mask a million emotions with one, weak smile.

An ice cream store catches the corner of his eye. He turns towards its parking lot, memories of him and Nia spending summers there through all their years together. It's enough to strike a match of joy in his dampening soul.

"Hey, Costello, how about some ice cream before we head home?" Patrick asks. He sees joy reclaim Costello's face.
"Can we? Please?" Costello begs. Patrick chuckles and takes the key out of the ignition.

"Yeah," he beams as he turns to the boy. "Don't tell your mom though. She won't let me hear the end of it."

To that, Costello nods and hurries out of the vehicle. Patrick quickly follows suit, catching up to him. He chuckles at the child's enthusiasm, waiting in line with him.

"Only one scoop, little guy," Patrick informs Costello. "I don't want you to spoil dinner."
"Okay!" Costello chirps. Patrick laughs at the child again, tousling his hair gently.

After a while, Costello chooses his ice cream. They both ask for vanilla before sitting at a table to eat their frozen treat.

"So, how was school, kiddo?" Patrick asks before taking a spoonful of ice cream.
"It was good," Costello says as he eats his own scoop.
"Yeah?" the bleached blonde asks. "What did you learn today?"
"We learned about time tables and rain cycles," he lists vaguely. "Mommy used to tell me that rain came from sad angels, but really it comes from oceans."

Patrick snickers at the comment about Nia.

"That does sound like something she would say," he mumbles as he fails to fight his smile. "What's your favorite subject in school?"
"Science is pretty cool," Costello comments. "Mommy and Daddy are scientists, too."
"Y'know, I thought about being a scientist when I was your age," Patrick mentions. Costello's eyes widen and sparkle with wonder. Patrick starts to wonder if that's how his own eyes looked when amazed by something so simple. Perhaps is own eyes did just that when around Nia.

"Really?" Costello gasps. Patrick nods with a sound of confirmation as he takes another spoonful of frozen vanilla.

"I wanted to be a Ghostbuster, actually," Patrick confesses. A blush dusts over his cheeks as he chuckles at his past.
"Ghostbusters are scientists?" Costello asks.
"Yep! All of them!" Patrick chirps.
"Do you think you can get rid of the monsters at home? Or the ones that scare Mommy?"
"I..." Patrick hesitates. He studies the boy in front of him, who wants nothing more than just to go back to what he's used to. Patrick knew Costello didn't deserve to go through such trauma at a young age. He knew he was beyond confused and feeling things no one could quite identify nor pinpoint.

"I really wish I could, Stello," Patrick chokes out, "but, I didn't go to Ghostbusting School. Even if I did, I still don't think I can do it."
"Why not?" Costello asks. Patrick furrows his brow at the question. Why couldn't he help Nia through this strenuous predicament?

We're strangers, now. She's just lost and confused, right now. She loves Ricky, I'm sure of it. She has a family. I'm not supposed to be in the picture.

A million reasons stirred in his mind, all of them pointing to invalid answers— all being answers an eight-year-old couldn't comprehend. Patrick cautiously looks around the ice cream shop before leaning towards Costello.

"Truth is... I'm a scaredy cat," Patrick whispers; he presses a smile for the young boy, "but I'm sure when you grow up and go to Ghostbusting School, you can scare them away from your mom. Can you promise me that?"

With a grin, Costello nods with eager. The boy returns to his ice cream, eating a few spoonfuls. He starts to slow down, light dimming in his bright eyes. Patrick studies him cautiously, waiting for Costello to say what plagues his young and curious mind.

"Are Mommy and Daddy getting a divorce?" Costello rasps. He forces himself to look up at Patrick, waiting for an answer. To that, Patrick's own eyes widen with shock. He notices that it earns a few glances from strangers nearby.

"Stello, buddy, do you even know what that is?" Patrick chuckles worriedly. He couldn't bring himself to repeat the dark, heavy word that sunk in the air between him and his son.

Costello stirs his plastic spoon in the melted ice cream, keeping his attention there. It doesn't hide his quivering lip and swelling tears.

"I-It's when... It's w-when two people don't love each other any-anymore, so th-they ignore each other," the boy stammers, his voice breaking. It's more than enough to shatter Patrick's heart. It gives him even more confirmation that the boy before him is the child of Nia. No one could break his heart like her.

"Mommy and Daddy don't love each other anymore," Costello sniffles before crumbling into a sob. "They're getting a divorce, huh?"
"Costello, come here," Patrick coos gently as he pushes his chair away from the table. Costello hops down from his chair and makes his way to Patrick as he fails to wipe away infinite tears.

Patrick picks the boy up, sitting him on his lap. He embraces him, wishing he could shield him from the world and it's vulgar things— such as the knowledge of divorce, or any pending doom that could crush his wonderful spirit.

"That's not all the way true, Stello," Patrick forces himself to say. "People get divorced and sometimes still love each other."
"S-So, are Mommy and Daddy getting a divorce?" Costello dares himself to ask into the fabric of Patrick's shirt.

"I don't know," he lies. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Look at me, buddy."

Costello parts from Patrick's shoulder and looks up at him. His Nia-like, button nose is ruby red while his Patrick-like, round eyes swim in tears. It simultaneously hints a smile at Patrick's lips and breaks his heart even more.

"No matter what happens, it's going to be okay," Patrick says. He wipes the tears from Costello's flushed cheeks as he continues. "You're going to be okay. Everyone will be okay, I promise."
"Pinky promise?" Costello pleas.
"Double pinky promise," Patrick reassures. "Let's head home, kiddo. I'll help you with your homework and we can watch Ninja Turtles afterwards."

Costello smiles a little bit more, a small giggle eliciting from him.

The two stand, throw away their cups, and make their way home. The car ride is silent. Every now and then, Patrick glances in the rear view mirror to check on Costello. Each time, he finds him busy playing with the Raphael plush. It eases just a piece of his anxiety, but at least he knows that the child  has a distraction from the current events in his life.

A/N:
It's been so long I'm so sorry hhh,,, this is about,,, 2.7k words. We are really out here i suppose?? Thank you for your patience btw!!! Let me know what you think of this chapter :)

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