Rory sighed as he stretched out on his bed. As he opened his eyes, he realized that it was still dark out. His eyes lazily flicked over to the blue numbers floating on his alarm clock. 3:15 in the morning. So his father should still be home.
Rory was home from college for winter break. He loved any time he got to spend with his father. Since he had grown up without a mother, his father had acted as both parents. Rory rolled out of bed and fixed his boxers as he shuffled out of his room. The house was chilly, his father hadn't remembered to adjust the heat. So used to living alone, his father was. So used to an empty house.
His heart ached as he pulled in a sweater, thinking about all the time his father spent alone. How he buried himself in his work. It surely only got worse when his only son left for college at U of M, hours and hours south of their home.
Rory dragged his feet as he made his sleepy way down the stairs. He'd never had many friends in high school. He'd had the only friend he'd ever needed right at home. Being separated from his father was torture. But he was finally getting his footing socially. He went with his classmates to every football game. Attended late night parties. He was branching out. But his heart strings always tugged back his memories. His life waiting idle back home.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee encased him as he entered the kitchen, affirming that his father hadn't left for work yet. Rory sank down into one of the comfy chairs at the table, his eyes half open.
State Trooper Patrick Kramer smiled affectionately at his son. He missed his boy almost too much these days. He poured a cup of coffee for his not-so-little-anymore boy and placed it on the table. He couldn't resist cupping the side of his son's head in his big palm. When Rory leaned into the touch, he slowly wound his fingers into the messy blond hair and placed a kiss on the top of his head.
Ever used to the affection, Rory circled his arms around Patrick's waist. He always loved the smell of the pressed, clean trooper uniform and leather tool belt holding his gun and other things. Rory felt the rumbling timbre of his father's voice as the older man spoke.
"Thank you for getting your butt out of bed to see me off. Just like when you were little."
Rory smiled up at his father, content to just hold him for a moment and enjoy the gentle caress on his head. "You're not the only one doing the missing, dad. It's hard to be away from home."
"Tell me you're at least enjoying it. College life can't be all bad." He gave a playful tug on his son's hair, knowing full well that Rory adored his school and his new friends.
"Of course it's fun!" Rory batted his father's hand away, only to have his own hand snatched up. Patrick pulled him out of his seat and the boy leaned in to the offered hug. "I just worry about you, here, alone."
Patrick squeezed his son before letting him go. He placed a soft, lingering kiss on Rory's cheek before turning to head for the door. "Don't worry about your old man, Ror. I've got my guys at the squad. And you call me weekly. My son is going after his dreams. What more could I want? We'll talk more when I get off my shift. I love you, son."
Before Rory's could say another word, his father was out the door and headed to his cruiser. He sighed, took his coffee and headed to the living room. With his father gone it was going to be a long, boring day.
The house was dark when Patrick got home. It was just after ten PM. He found his son asleep on the living room couch, the TV flashing quiet in front of him. He took a moment to admire his son. He had showered, only to change into another pair of boxers and lounge in his underwear all day. The house was warmer, he could tell. And he mentally chided himself for not turning the heat up sooner.
He sat down slowly on the couch. Rory was curled up against the arm. Patrick put his arm around his boy his shoulder. Rory instinctively scooted closer. Patrick put his head down on Rory's and left his eyes drift closed. He had missed moments like this more than he could fathom. They'd grown more and sparse as his son grew up.