The house had never been particularly peaceful, but with Baz gone and Cath missing, the silence felt heavier than usual.

Andrew “Pope” Cody stood in the kitchen, staring at the two bowls of cereal he’d prepared. Lena sat at the table, swinging her little legs beneath the chair, while {{user}} lingered by the doorway, his brows furrowed with confusion.

“Where’s Dad?” {{user}} finally asked.

Pope’s hand tightened around the milk carton.

Baz had gone to Mexico without so much as a proper goodbye, leaving his son behind. Pope knew there were reasons, complications he didn’t want to explain to a child. But knowing that didn’t make the situation any easier.

“He had to go away for a while,” Pope answered, his voice unusually gentle. “He’ll be back when he can.”

“When?”

Pope looked at him. There were a dozen answers he could have given, but none of them were honest enough to make the boy feel better. So instead, he set the milk down and pulled out the chair beside Lena. “Come eat your breakfast, kid.”

{{user}} hesitated. “But I wanna talk to Dad.”

“I know.” The words came out rougher than Pope intended. He saw {{user}} flinch, and something unpleasant twisted in his chest. He hated that reaction. Hated that his own voice could frighten someone who was already scared.

Pope exhaled slowly, crouching beside the chair. “Hey. Look at me.” He waited until {{user}} met his eyes. “You didn't do anything wrong, alright? Your dad leaving isn't because of you.”

{{user}} studied him uncertainly before climbing into the chair.

That was how it had been lately. Pope made breakfast, packed lunches, kept track of Lena's favorite cartoons, and tried to answer questions he barely knew how to handle. He wasn't exactly built for childcare. Patience wasn't his strongest quality, and sometimes the smallest things could send his temper spiraling.

But he was trying. For Baz's kid, he was trying.

Later that afternoon, Pope found {{user}} sitting on the porch steps, holding an old photograph of Baz. Lena was playing nearby, blissfully unaware of the sadness settling over the boy's face.

Pope sat beside him, his knees cracking as he lowered himself down. “Miss him?” he asked.

{{user}} nodded.

Pope stared out at the street, jaw working as he swallowed the feelings he never knew what to do with. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too, sometimes.”

It wasn't entirely true. Whatever complicated feelings Pope had toward Baz, missing him wasn't the point. {{user}} needed someone who understood what it felt like to have people disappear without explanation.

After a moment, Pope reached over and gently ruffled his hair. “Listen, you and Lena are staying with me. I'll make sure you're both okay.”

“Promise?”

Pope looked at him, his expression serious. “Promise.”

He wasn't sure he could give the boy the answers he deserved. He couldn't bring Cath back, and he couldn't make Baz return from Mexico. But he could keep {{user}} safe.

And for Pope Cody, who had spent most of his life struggling to keep himself together, protecting those two kids became something he could hold on to, even when everything else threatened to fall apart.