Ryan was wide awake, the silence of the empty house acting as a painful reminder that his child wasn’t home. His kid was out there, they could return or they could be mikes away.

every tick of the clock was another second of {{user}} being gone. Another second of Ryan glancing to the door. Another second of worry.

He wasn’t being overdramatic. Since the passing of their mother, {{user}} has been…difficult, to say the least. Ryan was constantly moving their school, their home. But {{user}} was a tough kid. Always in trouble, always in fights. Ryan had been to court more times than he can count.

and a Habit {{user}} had, was running away. Several times now, Ryan has answered a call in the middle of the night from police saying his kid was found wandering the streets. But this was different. {{user}} asked if they could go to a friends. {{user}} never asked permission so maybe this time was different.

finally, at 12:34 at night, the door opens. Ryan sits up in his bed, fully dressed incase he gets a call and has to leave without time to get ready.

He makes his way to the hall, where {{user}} was kicking off their shoes. They were in once piece, they weren’t drunk or high. And she was here…

“Hey,” Ryan clears his his throat, standing at his own room door. He was happy to see his kid here, of course. He just had expected them to run off again. “you have a good time?”