Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son-Chapter 222

Leo sat at the little round table with the blue legs—the one with stickers peeling off from the corners where he’d tried to scratch them with his tiny nails.

He blinked. Slowly.

Wait... this was their house.

He looked around the sunny kitchen, at the fridge with all the funny magnets, the counter where Mommy used to put the cookie jar, the floor with that one cracked tile shaped like a fish. He hadn’t seen these things in... a long time? Maybe?

That was weird. Wasn’t it?

But then Captain Bunny was there, and Toast the Bear, and Meow-Meow with only one eye, sitting just like always by his plate.

Ah!

His plate was full of pancakes, golden and warm and cut into neat little squares. Daddy always knew he didn’t like the crusty edges. He grinned and stuffed a piece in his mouth, chewing while his toes kicked against the chair.

He stuffed another syrupy bite into his mouth, swinging his legs under the table, toes just brushing the cool kitchen tile. Everything smelled like cinnamon and sunshine and his favourite syrup.

He was happy. So happy.

But... pancakes?

That was weird. Pancakes didn’t happen anymore. Right?

Why didn’t they happen anymore?

He forgot.

The grown-up voices made him look up.

Laughter echoed from the TV box across the room. Mommy sat beside him, her hands wrapped around a coffee mug, her eyes flicking nervously toward Daddy. They were talking in their grown-up voices. Quiet and serious. Grown-up talk. Boring stuff.

Leo tilted his head, chewing slowly. He didn’t know the words, but he knew Mommy’s worried face. He didn’t like it. But Daddy smiled at her and said something, and then Mommy looked a little less scrunched up.

Leo perked up when Daddy looked over and said something about going outside. The world brightened in his chest.

They were going out? Yay!

He turned to look at Daddy and froze.

His face... why was it blurry? It looked like when the bathroom mirror got foggy. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, frowning. That was silly. Daddy didn’t have a blurry face. Right?

Before he could ask, Mommy came over in her soft sweater and pressed a kiss to his sticky cheek. She laughed and said, "Let’s get you cleaned up, my little pancake monster."

Leo giggled, letting her lift him from his booster seat. Her hands were warm. The water at the sink was warm too. He liked how her fingers scrubbed syrup from his chin, like clouds brushing his skin.

Outside, Mr. Sun was shining so brightly it made his eyes squint. The sky was big and blue and full of nothing. Nothing...?

Something felt weird. Like the sky was missing something. He tugged on Mommy’s sleeve. "Mommy?"

But she was talking to Daddy again, holding his hand tight, walking fast.

Then everything got loud. People yelling. A car horn screamed. Something exploded, or maybe it was just the world cracking open. Mommy grabbed him and pulled him against her chest, her heart thudding like thunder. Daddy was shouting, he was trying to take them home. Home was safe. Home had pancakes and plushies.

Leo buried his face in Mommy’s shoulder, and everything went whoosh. Hot. Too hot. He felt like the sun got in his mouth. His eyes hurt. His ears hurt. He just wanted to see Daddy’s face. He wanted to ask what was happening.

"Hey, champ. You gotta wake up before your mom goes full silver fox on us."

His heart jumped.

"...Daddy?" he whispered.

Leo blinked, and everything was fuzzy. Light poked at his eyes. The voice was right there. He waited for the blur to go away. When it did, the face wasn’t Daddy’s.

It was Uncle Winter.

Leo frowned, his mouth trembling. He squinted again. "Uncle?"

The blurry face smiled and scooped him up. Warm arms. Big and strong like Daddy’s.

Mommy was beside him, frozen with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth.

He coughed—hard—and Uncle rubbed his back, patting softly.

"You’re okay now," Uncle whispered. "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

Leo blinked, and Mommy appeared beside them, holding a bottle of water. She looked tired but happy. She helped him drink, and it felt cool in his mouth. He didn’t know why he was so tired. His arms and legs felt floaty, like when he spun too much.

But Uncle’s arms were nice. Soft and warm and safe. Just like...

He yawned. The world wobbled.

"Daddy..." he murmured again, even though he knew it wasn’t.

Uncle held him closer. Leo tucked his face into the curve of his neck.

It was enough.

He slept again.

******

Zara hadn’t moved.

She just stood there, the bottle of water still in her hand, her mouth parted slightly as if she was stuck mid-breath. Her fingers trembled around the plastic, knuckles white.

Winter felt it too.

Leo’s tiny weight was curled into his chest, warm and soft, his breathing shallow but steady again. The little boy had quieted, lulled back into a fragile sleep, but the word he’d whispered still echoed like a crack through the room.

Daddy.

Not meant for him.

Not yet.

Not really. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Or was it?

Winter’s jaw clenched as he gently adjusted Leo, brushing his hand over the boy’s hair. Still damp with sweat. Still shaking slightly in his arms.

"I think he thought I was him," Winter murmured, voice thick. "Just for a second."

Zara nodded slowly. "I heard."

The silence after was heavy. Winter didn’t dare break it. Not yet. His hand moved in slow circles over Leo’s back, instinctive. Protective.

It was Zara who finally whispered, "He’s never said that word before. Not since—"

"I know."

It felt like they were standing at the edge of something big and painful—something not quite grief, not quite guilt. A ghost of someone Leo loved. Someone he was too young to fully remember, but still carried somewhere deep.

"He must still... miss him," she said quietly.

"Of course he does." Winter’s voice cracked despite himself. "He’s his father."

Zara nodded again, but this time her gaze flicked up to Winter’s face.

"But after he realized you weren’t..." she swallowed. "He didn’t ask for him again."

Winter said nothing.

He didn’t want to assume. Didn’t want to fill in blanks that didn’t belong to him. This wasn’t about replacing someone. It never had been.

But the way Leo had sunk against him afterward—the way he’d held on—it meant something. Maybe not a word. Maybe not a promise. But something real.

"I meant what I said earlier," he said after a beat. "He’s mine. I don’t need him to say it back. I just need to be here."

Zara reached up slowly, placing her hand over his on Leo’s back.

"You are here," she said softly.

Her voice didn’t shake. It was full of quiet certainty. No doubt. No hesitation. "He didn’t fall asleep because you were his dad. He fell asleep because he felt safe with you. That’s what matters."

Winter looked at her, and the emotion hit him harder than he expected.

Not because of Leo’s mistake.

But because of her clarity.

Zara wasn’t asking him to be anything he wasn’t. She saw what he already was.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Leo’s hair, then one to Winter’s cheek, lingering for a second before resting her head lightly against his.

"We’ll get there," she murmured. "If he ever calls you that... it’ll be because he chooses it."

Winter closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, grounding himself in the warmth pressed against his chest. Leo’s small body was so trusting, so still. For a moment, Winter let his shoulders drop and simply felt it—this quiet, delicate joy.

He glanced at Zara and smirked. "Look at you, giving moving speeches now. My influence is finally rubbing off."

Zara snorted and smacked his arm lightly. "You wish. That was all me, thank you very much."

"I don’t know... It was very inspirational. You’ve been spending time with a certain emotionally competent man."

"Emotionally competent my ass," she muttered, though her smile betrayed her.

Winter chuckled, shifting Leo slightly to ease the weight. "Still... he’s sleeping so deeply."

"I think it’s the number of people here," Zara said, her voice gentler now. "You remember how he used to get overwhelmed? That time he tried to keep both of us in his little space?"

Winter winced at the memory. "He kicked me out."

"Because he couldn’t handle all that input. I think that’s why he’s so tired."

He nodded slowly. "Then here’s what we’ll do. Once everyone’s gathered around, we’ll wake him up together—gently. Let him know he doesn’t have to keep holding this space for us."

Zara blinked. "Yes, that will work."

"I think it’s instinct," Winter said. "He’s keeping us safe. But if we talk to him, if we explain, he might be able to release us. And that’ll take the strain off."

Zara studied him for a beat, then smiled softly. "You really are the emotionally competent one."

Winter smirked. "Told you."

Zara rolled her eyes, but her hand reached for his again. "Let’s get the others."