Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the end of the day for Mr. Ttaálfurinn’s first-grade class, and as he was wiping down the chalkboard of all the numbers and letters, his students were packing away their arts and crafts for the day.

That day’s project had been to make cards for any family member that they chose.

His classroom might be covered in pieces of cut construction paper, glitter, glue, felt-tip marker caps, and colours of crayon and pencil-shavings, but it was wholly worth it. The kids were ecstatic about their creations, practically bouncing in their seats in anticipation of giving them away.

A small hand tugged on the back of his shirt. “Mr... Mr. Ttaa-... ta...ta...”

The teacher chuckled, turning. “Remember, Stingy? I said you can call me Sportacus, or Mr. Sportacus,” he said while he half-kneeling to get to the child’s small height.

“Oh yeah!” the boy brightened. “And... and ‘member? You call me by my nickname too! Stingy!”

“That’s right!” Sportacus smiled. “Now what is it that would you like?”

Stingy shifted, fiddling with the card behind his back. “Um – Mr. Sportacus... Do I really have to give away my card?”

Sportacus had anticipated this. The child was incredibly possessive of his items, and took some careful manoeuvring to get to give things up. “You worked very hard on it right?”

“...Right,” Stingy agreed.

“And you made it especially for your mom, right?” Sportacus continued.

A nod. “Right.”

Sportacus put a hand on his shoulder. “I think you have to see how happy she will be when she gets the gift. Making your mom happy is something that nobody can take away from you.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes – really,” Sportacus assured with a bright smile. “You can keep that feeling forever and ever. That’s why people like giving presents; because you can make someone you love very happy.”

“Wow.” Stingy’s eyes were wide. “Thank you Mr. Sportacus!” Stingy chirped and he bounced back to his chair without further ado, joining in with the happy babble of the other students.

Sportacus shook his head fondly, watching the kids babble, before he turned back to the chalkboard.

Once the bell had finally rung, the classroom emptied quickly, and Sportacus said goodbye to each of the students as they rushed out of the door.

“Goodbye!”

“See you later!”

“Great job colouring today!”

“Yes – I can see that you have a new backpack, you showed me that before.”

“Okay, see you later!”

“Bye!”

The kids joined up with their parents and guardians, happily babbling away to them about their day as Sportacus stood by the door and watched.

“-and then,” Sportacus caught the tail-end of a conversation one particular student and their mother, “- and then Mr. Sportacus did a back-flip – and it wasn’t even gym time yet.”

She just chuckled, looking up at Sportacus standing by the door.

Sportacus just waved in return.

He turned back to the classroom to start the cleanup, but something caught his attention. A bright pink something.

One student left behind.

A bright pink figure alone in the sea of empty chairs and tables; her head was tilted down, and her tongue sticking out, and completely unaware that she was only one left in the classroom aside from her teacher.

Sportacus approached and knelt down beside her desk, and tilted his head to see what she was still so diligently working on.

“Stephanie – class is over.”

“I know,” she chirped, but didn’t look up. She was carefully – slowly – writing with a felt-tip marker, the tip making a scratching sound as she wrote out her letters.

“Oh, that’s right,” Sportacus remembered. “You’re being picked up by your babysitter today.”

“Yep! Pabbi had to do extra work today, so Trixie is picking me up. We’re gonna go to her apartment and – and – play video games and eat pizza and I’m going to show her how to do a handstand,” Stephanie babbled. “Just like the one you taught me!” she announced, looking up at him and smiling.

“Oh that’s wonderful!”

“Yeah! ‘cause Trixie’s apartment is right next to pabbi and mine’s apartment. So it’s super close and stuff.”

“Oh yes -that sounds very close.”

“And that makes it easier too, ‘cause when pabbi is home he just knocks on the wall and I know I can come home and stuff.”

“How very clever,” Sportacus encouraged happily.

“But sometimes we don’t hear it ‘cause I fell asleep and stuff, so he texts Trixie with his phone,” she continued to babble.

“That seems very reasonable,” Sportacus agreed with a nod.

She nodded back. “Yes. Very reese-bable,” she parroted.

Sportacus resisted a chuckle. Kids.

Sportacus peeked at the card she was making.

It was large and pink – obviously – and had scrawled in the neatest writing the first-grader could muster: U are best pabbi evr – lov Stephanie. The i’s in ‘pabbi’ and ‘Stephanie’ were dotted with hearts.

Sportacus’ heart warmed immediately.

“Oh Stephanie, that’s lovely, your father will love it.”

“Yep!” She chirped happily, and began to adorn the inside of the pink card with a tremendous amount of hearts, her legs kicking back and forth in her seat as she scribbled away.

“Are you going to give it to him right away?” Sportacus asked, smiling as she worked.

“Yep!” she replied happily. She paused, and the spoke in a low conspiratorial tone. Sportacus leaned in to listen. “You know,” she said, “Sometimes pabbi is super-duper grumpy.”

Sportacus had to draw his mouth in a tight line to resist snorting. “Oh? Is he?”

“Yeah. Like,” she gestured. “Really super-duper grumpy. But,” she waggled a finger at him, “If I ever give him stuff, or say ‘I love you’ or even just smile or hug pabbi, all that grumpiness just goes... poof,” she spread her arms wide.

“Poof?”

“Poof,” she nodded.

How lucky Stephanie’s pabbi was to have such a bright child as this. It was no wonder that all his grumpiness just ‘went poof’ whenever she was near him.

She was a veritable ray of sunshine packed in a tiny bright-pink package.

Sportacus had met her father, and he certainly seemed quiet and dower, and a bit stand-offish, but Sportacus also had seen the soft expression he had whenever he saw his daughter.

A bit grumpy, yes.

But maybe a little warmhearted too.

“I am absolutely sure your card will make him very happy and all his grumpiness will go ‘poof’ for quite some time.”

Stephanie giggled.

A knock on the side of the classroom drew their attention, and Sportacus stood to greet Stephanie’s babysitter.

“Hello Trixie.”

“Hello ‘Mr. Sportacus’,” the teenager smiled. “I’m here to pick up the pink brat.”

“I’m not a brat!” Stephanie called, giggling, from where she was packing up her things.

“You so are – your father calls you that all the time,” Trixie stuck out her tongue. “Sorry I’m late,” she turned back to Sportacus, apologizing, “I had some trouble with the buses, so it took me a bit to get here.”

Sportacus waved it off, knowing that the buses were not especially known for being the most reliable in this part of the city. “It’s no trouble at all. I’m always the last teacher to leave, and I have no trouble watching over Stephanie.”

“Cool,” Trixie held out her hand as Stephanie rushed over to take it, bouncing. “Thanks again, Mr. S.”

Sportacus chuckled. “Of course. See you later Trixie. Stephanie.”

“Have a good day Sportacus!”

“I will.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

Sportacus smiled, “Really sure.”

“Are you very -”

“Oh-kay... that’s enough of that.” Trixie announced, and hoisted Stephanie up onto her shoulders. “Come on kiddo – enough blabbering.”

“Bye Mr. Sportacus!” Stephanie called, waving at Sportacus as she was carried away.

Sportacus just waved, resisting the urge to burst out laughing.

Once she was gone from sight – and the sound of her peels of laughter faded, he closed the door and looked at his disaster of a classroom.

Time to clean.

Hands on his hips, he got to work.

Once the glitter was swept and vacuumed away, the paper bits recycled and the caps of the felt-tips found their proper mates, and the crayons, coloured pencils back into their slots, along with the rest of the classroom being made spotless; Sportacus settled himself down at his desk.

While most teachers preferred to take home their work and mark at home, Sportacus preferred to do it in his classroom.

Sportacus got to work, uncapping a bright blue pen, and started to gently correct the formation of the students’ letters and numbers.

While he wrote, his mind drifted off to Stephanie... and her father.

What an interesting family.

Stephanie all bubbles and bright pink – the most active and bright young girl that Sportacus ever had the pleasure to meet.

And then there was Robin Glæpur – or Robbie, as he seemed to prefer – a quiet, dower sort of man, who appeared unfriendly and standoffish on the outside of it.

Sportacus smiled a little to himself.

He had the honour to catch Mr. Glæpur’s face brighten up whenever he picked Stephanie up from school. Sportacus even had caught the man, who people thought was dreadfully serious, kneeling close to his daughter, and whispering in her ear, wry smile on his face, and voice low and silly.

Sportacus felt a bubble of something in his chest when he saw Stephanie giggle at whatever he had said, and her father’s own deep hearty chuckle.

He could even catch the love in the man’s voice whenever he spoke about her – though the tone was careful and measured – it was easy to catch the brightness and pride in his low tone and -

- and -

- Sportacus blinked, he was no longer correcting curves of letters, but instead was doodling on his note-pad’s cover with one hand while his head rested on his other.

Loopy hearts were dashed across the book’s surface, and he flushed upon realization jerking the pen away from the page.

He chewed on the end of the pen in embarrassment, feeling like a schoolboy again – crushing hard after another person like this.

He couldn’t help it though.

Ever since he had met the man halfway through the school year when Stephanie had transferred in and they had moved to the Lazytown district of the city...

He was enamoured.

This mysterious man who seemed half serious and poised, and the other half warm and perhaps less serious than he seemed to be.

Sportacus knew better than to nurture these feelings, but it was hard not to whenever he got a chance to see the man interacting with his daughter.

Sportacus sighed happily and continued to doodle on the notebook, absently drawing hearts.

Well, he’d just let himself crush then. There was no harm in that. He knew it would lead to nothing, but at least he could appreciate the man from afar.

Sportacus had a rare face-to-face with the man after school on the Thursday, as Sportacus was washing the whiteboard again, the students already long-gone and picked up by their parents.

A soft knock on the door made Sportacus turn.

“Mr. Glæpur!” well that was certainly was a surprise. Hadn’t he already picked up his bright bundle of pink and sparkles earlier?

“It’s Robbie – please,” came first, and as if anticipating the question, he continued, “Stephanie is on the playground playing with some of the kindergartners at the moment.”

Sportacus hopped off the stool, and looked out the window where he had a good vantage point of the playground off near the line of trees. Sure enough, he saw a blaze of bright pink swinging happily.

“I’ve just come to drop this off,” Robbie continued, and Sportacus had a pair of bright blue scissors dropped into his hand. “Stephanie accidentally took these home with her yesterday.”

“Oh! Thank you. I didn’t even notice they were gone.” Sportacus spoke. Finding he was speaking a bit too quickly, so he slowed his pace, “Did you like her card?”

Robbie’s face flushed ever-so-slightly, and almost sounded offended by the question, “Of course I did.”

Sportacus kicked himself. What a stupid question. “I – I mean, of course I thought you’d like it,” he tried to repair, “She did a very good job!”

“She did,” her father agreed.

There was a moment of awkward silence and Sportacus felt his face heat up, and Robbie’s hands went into his pockets, looking out the window to watch where his daughter was.

The silence continued, and Robbie eventually said, “Well I better go and get Stephanie -”

“Wait -” Sportacus surprised himself with stopping him. He hardly ever had a chance to speak with the man. “- I’m – I’m... er... making coffee. Do you want any? Stephanie looks like she is having a good time, I’d hate to interrupt her.”

Robbie turned to look at him, eyebrow raising slowly.

Sportacus face turned pink, and he felt like he was going to burn through the floor with the embarrassment he felt.

What was he thinking?

Of course he wouldn’t -

“I can do that,” Robbie agreed.

Oh.

Oh!

Sportacus smiled brightly. “Good! Maybe we can actually have a chance to talk.”

“... Talk?”

“I – er – about how Stephanie is doing... of course.”

“Ah. Of course.”

And that was how Sportacus found himself sitting outside with Robin Glæpur himself, cup of coffee each, talking while watching Stephanie play.

Thankfully Sportacus had asked no more stupid stupid questions.

“- And it took me three weeks to get the glitter out of our carpet,” Robbie finished explaining, shuddering at the memory.

Sportacus chuckled. “So is that why Stephanie refused to use glitter yesterday?”

“Very possibly.”

Sportacus couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t imagine Robbie on his hands and knees trying to pick star-shaped glitter out of the carpet with a pair of tweezers. But there it was the knowledge, and the mental image that came with it.

“Don’t laugh,” Robbie said, his voice bubbling with it’s own amusement. “That was a very harrowing time of my life, you know.”

Sportacus chuckled, “I’m sure...”

Stephanie stood in front of them.

“Pabbi!” she called, “Mr. Sportacus! Look at me!” She announced, arms raised in the air.

Sportacus looked away from Robbie, and Robbie turned his head to look up at his daughter.

Once she garnered both of their attentions, she did a splendid cartwheel.

“That’s very good Stephanie,” Sportacus cheered, standing to give her a high-five. “Remember when you first came to my class?”

“I couldn’t even do one!” Stephanie beamed proudly, imitating his hands-on-hips power-pose. “I just fell over and stuff.”

“And now you can do one! More than that too, I bet.”

“Uh huh,” she agreed, then she pointed at him, “You do one now, Mr. Sportacus,” Stephanie tugged on his hand. “You do all sorts of amazing stuff. Like – like, back-flips, and splits, and crazy silly push-ups.”

Sportacus felt his ears go pink. “I – er -” he felt very aware of Robbie sitting behind him on the bench. “Maybe later, Stephanie.”

“Aww.”

But Robbie’s low voice cut through his embarrassment. “No, go on. Stephanie keeps rattling on about it. I’m curious.”

Sportacus felt his ears go even warmer. He suddenly felt very silly.

“Come on Sportacus!” she encouraged, and she did another cartwheel. “You are so super great at it!”

Well he couldn’t say no to such a cute face, and especially now that he had an interested audience.

He did a cartwheel.

“Now a back-flip! Do one of those!”

Sportacus chuckled, and did as requested.

Stephanie cheered loudly.

“Do another!”

Sportacus laughed.

Encouraged – and seeing no appalled look from Robbie for his antics – he went into his normal series of ‘super-moves’ he liked to do for the kids.

He did his jump-splits, his forward flips, his butterfly flips, and he went down to do his push ups that he ended with a flip back onto his feet.

Stephanie was cheering excitedly, full of energy and happily cartwheeling and somersaulting with him.

They lost track of time.

Sportacus had fallen into playing with Stephanie, showing her how to do a handstand – holding her feet – and also encouraging her to do more somersaults and cartwheels.

He was caught-out when he saw a pair of black leather shoes in his vision when he was in the middle of a push-up himself, Stephanie insisting to sit on his back.

He looked up, and saw Stephanie’s father looking down at him.

“I hate to cut this short, but I think I ought to take Stephanie home for some supper.”

Stephanie rolled off of Sportacus. “Aw.”

Sportacus shot up, feeling the heat of embarrassment attacking his face again. “I’m so sorry – I lost track of time -”

Robbie put up a hand. “No. It’s fine. I can’t do any of those things, so I’ll be glad to let you run down this mite’s endless supply of energy.”

“Pabbi says I’m an infinite battery,” Stephanie announced cheerfully from where she was laying in the grass. “He also says I’m in-courage-able. Whatever that means.”

“Incorrigible,” Robbie corrected flatly.

“Yes. That.”

Sportacus laughed. “I don’t think she’s incorrigible.”

“You try to tuck her in at night when she’s brimming with energy and we can trade notes.” Robbie deadpanned.

Sportacus chuckled. “Sorry about wasting your time like this.”

“No no, you... you haven’t wasted any of my time,” Robbie held out his hand for his daughter, and she ran over to take it.

The warmth of Robbie’s smile he gave to Stephanie made Sportacus’ heart leap from his chest straight into somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.

He had to cough before he felt able to speak at all. “Well – that’s good then. We should do this again.” He froze. “Er- I mean-”

“That would be nice,” Robbie smiled.

And for a moment – a single moment – Sportacus felt that the grass below him was going to drop away and he’d be left floating in internal bliss.

Because the smile Robbie gave him was the first warm smile he had ever seen given to another person other than his daughter – and it was directed at him.

Stephanie’s call of, “See you Mr. Sportacus!” rammed Sportacus straight back to earth.

“Oh!” he nearly stumbled, “Yes. See you tomorrow, Stephanie. Don’t be too much trouble for your pabbi.”

“See you, Sporta- ah – your real name?”

“Íþró... But seriously, call me Sportacus. Everyone else does.”

Robbie’s eyebrow raised. “I will have to hear the story of that name sometime.”

“It’s not as interesting as it seems.”

“I’ll be the judge of th-”

“Pabbi – come on – you said we had to go,” Stephanie tugged. “I’m hungry.”

“Ah. Yes. Right. See you later then.”

“Yep. See you.”

With a small wave from Sportacus, and another tug from Stephanie, Robbie and her left.

Sportacus watched them round the corner till they were out of view, before he fell onto his back and into the grass with a wistful sigh.

He covered his face with his hands and remained there for quite a while.

...At least until his heart stopped beating so wildly.

Chapter Text

Shockingly, Sportacus hadn’t made such a terrible impression on Robbie. The man wasn’t avoiding him like the plague, and had even, through the week following, made the effort to wave at him whenever he picked up Stephanie from school.

Sportacus considered that a win.

Though he may not ever find his infatuation with the man to amount to anything, he was awfully glad Robbie hadn’t been weirded out by him at all.

Sportacus may or may not have been replaying the whole scenario in his head, and it may or may not have become more and more embarrassing as he remembered it, likely incorrectly.

At the moment though, he was in the middle of class with the kids, outside on the field, and his thoughts happily away from Robbie and how he might have possibly been the biggest dumbest dork in the history of ever.

It was nice to have a distraction.

The kids were in peels of laughter currently, because Sportacus was in the middle of a handstand, acting like for the life of him he didn’t know where the soccer ball went.

“But it’s up there Mr. Sportacus!”

Sportacus, still on his hands, looked around, bemused, “Where?”

“Up there!” the kids cried while in peels of laughter.

The ball was balanced on his feet.

He held himself up with one hand, and used his other to ‘survey’ the area.

“The roof?”

“No!”

He switched hands.

“Up a tree?”

“No! No Mr. Sportacus! Your feet!”

“What about my feet?” he asked.

“It’s on your feet!”

Sportacus was grinning ear-to-ear. “But how is that possible? I’m standing on my feet!”

Stephanie, who was nearly rolling with amusement, was the one that stalked up to him, put her hands on her hips, and announced. “You are on your hands silly! The ball is on your feet! You got it all backwards!”

Sportacus let his expression fall to one of shock and he let himself flop onto his back with a ‘oomph’. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

He hopped onto his feet, ball under his arm, and the kids giggling madly at his antics.

“Mr. Sportacus how can you forget you were upside down!”

“Sometimes I forget?” he offered with a cheeky smile.

“But you was on your hands!”

“It seems so,” he nodded sagely.

“How would you write if you forgot! Or eat,” one kid realized.

“I suppose with my feet.”

That got them going again and Sportacus couldn’t help but smile along.

Once the laughter ebbed away, he held up the ball. “Okay, there is a bin full of balls, go and have fun!”

Now all revved up and full of excitement, the kids dashed towards the bins of balls with more enthusiasm they would originally have if he hadn’t started the lesson with such tomfoolery.

He tossed the soccer ball in the air a few times, and chuckled.

“Pabbi!” Stephanie’s call broke his thoughts, and he turned his head.

In a blur of pink, Stephanie ran to the chain-link fence that surrounded one half of the large field.

And there was Robbie, leaning against the fence, arms crossed over the tops of it.

Sportacus’ heart did flips in seeing the father’s warm earnest smile upon seeing his daughter, and as he reached down to ruffle her pink hair - the fence between them stopped any hugs.

His face began to heat up when Robbie looked up, noticing him.

Stephanie was babbling away to her father, and Robbie gestured for Sportacus to come over.

“- and then he forgot he was on his hands - he’s so silly -”

“Yes I saw.”

He saw? Sportacus felt himself go redder.

“And the ball was on his feet the whole time.”

“I know - how very silly of him,” Robbie said, and he glanced at Sportacus and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat or two.

Or three.

Robbie hushed his daughter, before speaking to Sportacus. “I don’t mean to be lurking, but my dearest daughter forgot something at home today...”

Stephanie’s eyes widened and she threw her arms in the air. “My lunch!”

Robbie held up a bright pink lunch-kit. “Yes. I’d hate for you to starve and waste away. I don’t want to be a father to a skeleton.”

“Pabbi.”

Sportacus held out his hand. “I can take that for her.”

Robbie handed over the lunch-kit and Sportacus took it.

“Go run along and play now Stephanie,” Robbie encouraged.

“Aw, but pabbi...”

“Go. You get to bug me all day after school, go bug other people of your own stature for a change.”

Stephanie grinned, nodded, and Sportacus gave her the soccer ball.

“Bye pabbi! Love you!” she announced before she dashed off to join up with her classmates.

Robbie watched her go fondly.

Sportacus couldn’t help but admire that soft expression.

“I don’t mean to be a creep and stand here by the fence...”

“Oh! No no! It’s fine. It’s pretty normal for kids to forget their lunches. A lot of parents that live around here like to watch their kids whenever they are playing outside.”

Lazytown Elementary was a rather small school, a tight-knit little community where everybody knew everybody else.

“Oh good.” Robbie finally looked away from his daughter.

Sportacus hoped his face wasn’t going pink again. He was worried that Robbie would think he was permanently sun-burnt or something...

Sportacus fidgeted. “How have you been?” he half-blurted. “I mean - I haven’t seen a lot of you since the coffee. You’ve been in and out pretty quickly after school and Stephanie says you’ve been ‘very super busy’.”

Robbie shrugged. “No more busy than usual, but I’ve been okay. You? Have you gotten that,” he wheeled his hand, “Problem sorted out?”

Sportacus’ eyebrows furrowed. “Problem?”

What problem?

Did he have a problem?

“The whole ‘getting upside down mixed with right-side up’ problem,” Robbie said with a smirk.

Sportacus blinked, then laughed. “I forgot you saw all that.”

“In all it’s glory, yes. Is that how you usually teach your class, by being a Sportaflip?”

Sportaflip?

“They seem to like it,” Sportacus said after a moment, but he didn’t argue with the nickname. Robbie seemed to relax after a moment. Maybe Robbie thought he would take it badly?

“You’re very good, you know,” Robbie said after a moment, straightening and idly fixing his sleeve.

“Pardon?”

“With kids. You’re very good with kids.”

“Oh! I’d like to hope so. I enjoy teaching them.”

Robbie looked out to where the kids were playing and Sportacus followed his gaze. Stephanie was organizing the kids into a large circle, making up some sort of game with the balls.

“Stephanie is really fond of you,” Robbie said after a moment.

“O... Oh?”

“Mm hm. She talks about you a lot. Sportateacher this. Sportaflip that. Sportahero did a back-flip today, pabbi, which was the best,” Robbie said in a sing-song impersonation of his daughter. “Sportahandstand taught us our numbers. Sportaweirdo said that fruits and vegetables are super good for us.”

Sportacus was entranced. He had never seen this side of Robbie.

He was so used to Robbie being so stern and serious looking, so used to the man looking like a completely serious and collected person...

That seeing the side of him that Sportacus knew was there, was... refreshing.

Sportacus shook his head. “Wait. Sportaweirdo?”

Robbie scoffed. “You made my daughter willingly want to eat fruits and vegetables.” He then looked at Sportacus, hard. “No, never mind, I mean sportscandy.”

Sportacus swallowed. “To be fair, I never came up with that term,” he attempted to defend. “That term has followed me with the name Sportacus.”

“Oh really.”

“Yes, really.”

Robbie rolled his eyes and Sportacus was loving how relaxed the man was acting around him.

“You mean that word just haunted you and you didn’t repeat it at all? Ever? Or use it yourself? Ever? That the people around you magically know to use the word ‘sportscandy’?” Robbie demanded, good humour in his voice.

Sportacus chuckled. “Okay. I may have used it once or twice -” all the time “- But I didn’t come up with it!”

“That’s your defense for sportscandy.”

“Yes.”

“You still enabled it - and you even tied it in with being happy to eat healthy.”

Sportacus snorted. “Now what’s wrong with eating healthy?”

“Nothing is wrong with it, but I feel like I’ve died and gone to a different plane of existence when my daughter - who used to balk at the idea of broccoli - now asks for spinach for supper.” Robbie threw his hands in the air. “It’s like she’s a different person! I don’t even have to bribe her with candy anymore.”

Sportacus chuckled.

“To be fair,” Robbie added with a sigh. “She still wants the candy. But for all intents and purposes, you’ve made her a ‘sportscandy’ consuming machine.”

Sportacus felt pride at that.

“Don’t look so smug.”

Sportacus tried to tame his expression. It went poorly, as he knew he couldn’t hide a smile to save his life.

“Mr. Sportacus!” one of the kids called. “Stingy is trying to hog all the soccer balls again!”

Sportacus looked behind himself, then back to Robbie.

Right.

“Sorry - I have to -”

Robbie waved it off. “It’s fine. I interrupted your class.”

“Are you picking up Stephanie?”

“Of course.”

Sportacus bounced on his heels slightly, and couldn’t keep the flush off of his features when he asked, “See you then?”

Robbie paused for a moment, but said, “... Sure.”

Sportacus beamed. “Okay! Bye Robbie!”

He was so filled with exhilaration that he did a few flips on his way back to the children. Which, happily, distracted Stingy enough that the other kids got to play with the sports equipment again.

Sportacus sat at his desk, the school-day over, and was tapping a pencil idly against the wood, his leg wiggling too.

He had just dismissed the students - but he hadn’t seen Robbie.

Stephanie had gone skipping out of the classroom, but Sportacus didn’t spot hide nor hair of the man.

A sudden worrying thought came to him all at once. What if -

What if he had really made a proper fool of himself?

What if Robbie had just been humouring him?

What if Robbie was aware of his stupid feelings and -

A knock on the door made Sportacus jump, and the pencil bounced out of his hand. It danced in the air as he fumbled, scrambling to catch it as it kept bouncing off of his fingers.

He caught it - and heard laughter.

Looking up, pencil still in his fist, he saw Robbie standing at the half-open door, chuckling while shaking his head.

Sportacus felt his entire face go beet red and there was no way he could possibly hide it.

“O-Oh. Hello Robbie,” Sportacus greeted, and he tucked the pencil behind his ear just to do something and not look like an idiot. Though that chance was far gone.

Stephanie’s father entered the classroom - still chuckling. “What was that - practicing a new move to show off the kids?” Robbie teased gently.

Sportacus coughed awkwardly. “Not exactly.”

“Sorry for the delay,” Robbie apologized, and it was then Sportacus noticed that Robbie was holding a cardboard tray laden with two tall steaming cups, and a folded plain paper bag “Stephanie is at the school playground with the Zweets kid - and I might have decided to stop by the coffee shop close to here.”

Sportacus suddenly understood. “Oh! You didn’t have to do that!”

“Well I did,” Robbie picked one of the cups out of the tray, and put it down on Sportacus’ desk and slid it toward him.

Robbie himself just perched himself on the corner of the desk, and he pulled out his own coffee, casually throwing the tray into the recycle bin Sportacus always kept right beside his desk. The paper bag Robbie put down beside himself.

Sportacus’ flush had nothing to do with his clumsiness earlier anymore.

“There’s no sugar in it,” Robbie said. “I remember last time you didn’t take any?”

Sportacus nodded numbly. Robbie had remembered that? They had only had coffee together the once, and it was terrible school coffee that the teachers drank and he had no idea that the man had paid attention to the fact that he didn’t put sugar in it.

“Thank you,” Sportacus said genuinely as he lifted the lid, and sniffed. Proper real coffee.

“Oh.” Robbie then said, almost too casually, and the paper bag was slid quickly toward him. “These are for you too.”

Sportacus caught the bag before it went off the edge of the table. Inside, were what looked like sugar cookies. He picked one out, and smirked a little at the shape.

A dog looked back at him, and was coated in brown icing sugar to resemble a rather cute pooch.

The only downside was. “... I’m really sorry Robbie - but I can’t eat these.”

Robbie froze where he was sitting and he looked over at Sportacus. “What? Why?”

Just by looking at Robbie’s expression, Sportacus felt extremely guilty. “I’m really sorry; I can’t have processed sugar and -”

“- I didn’t even think -” Robbie put down his coffee on the desk. “- I just assumed... You’re not diabetic, are you?” he suddenly asked, and it was easy to hear the anxiety in Robbie’s tone. “Did you tell me you were diabetic and I forgot?”

“No no! Nothing like that. I just can’t eat processed sugars. Something like an intolerance.” Not quite, but he wasn’t about to get into long-winded explanations about it. Sportacus sadly put the cookie back into the bag. It looked so delicious too. “I hope you don’t feel like you’ve wasted money at the coffee shop for these.”

Robbie gently took the bag from him. “... I didn’t buy these... exactly...” his tone was hesitant.

Oh.

Oh no.

Robbie hadn’t bought the cookies - he had made them.

Sportacus immediately wanted to take back everything he had said. “I- I could try one,” he insisted, holding out his hand for the bag. “I mean, one cookie shouldn’t hurt me.”

This was the worst. The absolute worst. Robbie had made cookies and he had refused him! He could have at least nibbled one! Or eaten one and bore the consequences later happily!

He didn’t care!

What’s one night of stomachaches and horrible, horrible indigestion?

Robbie yanked it out of his reach. “No! You said you can’t have processed sugar!”

“Just not copious amounts! I haven’t eaten a real cookie in forever. It might not affect me that badly -” oh it certainly did, “- so I mean, I could try.”

“No.”

“But!”

“No! You’ll be sick!”

A part of Sportacus’ brain insisted that it would be completely worth it though. “You put in all that hard work!” he argued instead.

Robbie’s face was an odd shade of pink as he held the bag up over his head and away from Sportacus’ hands. “First of all - I don’t want you to get sick, second of all, it doesn’t matter if I put in all that hard work,” Robbie’s voice pitched a little, “and third of all -”

Sportacus cringed slightly waiting for anger of some kind.

“- Can you have non-refined sugar?” Robbie half-blurted instead.

Sportacus blinked. “Huh?”

“I said,” Robbie cleared his throat - and were his cheeks turning pinker? “Can you have non-refined sugar? Like, if someone made something out of honey? Fruits? Rice syrup?”

“I-... yes.” Sportacus couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “Those are okay.”

Robbie harrumphed, but the effect was rather lost on his face being so red. “Well then I’ll have to make something that suits your needs better in the future. I am not having my daughter’s teacher get poisoned just because I made cookies.”

Sportacus stared at Robbie, who was looking resolutely away, his legs crossed and his arms crossed too.

Was he -

“You poisoned Mr. Sportacus!?” a small voice came from the doorway, causing both Robbie and Sportacus to jump.

“No... honey, that’s not what I said...”

Stephanie ran into the room to Sportacus’ side, and both men were happy for the distraction.

“But you said -” Stephanie insisted, and she looked up at Sportacus, hands on the armrest of his chair. “You isn’t poisoned, are you? The cookies pabbi made for you didn’t poison you, did they?”

“No!” Sportacus laughed. “I just can’t eat them, that’s all. They wouldn’t have poisoned me.” Given him horrible indigestion, maybe.

Stephanie frowned. “Oh. Okay.”

“Now what have I told you about sneaking up on me, young lady,” Robbie said, setting down his coffee cup and gesturing for her to come to where he was seated on the desk corner.

“Not to do it ‘cause it gives you a heart-attack?” Stephanie replied with ease, and Robbie pinked a little.

“No - well - yes. I told you that it can be very rude to just shout at people without announcing that you are there first,” Robbie explained, and Sportacus watched Robbie hoist his daughter up with ease and settled her into his lap, keeping her in place with one of his arms wrapped across her stomach.

“- and that gives you heart-attacks,” Stephanie added, seriously. “I know pabbi, you told me a-thousand times already. I didn’t forget, I just thought you poisoned Mr. Sportacus!” she explained, as if it was a perfectly reasonable response. “It was an emergency.”

Robbie rubbed a hand over his face. “Just... eat a cookie,” and he jammed the bag into Stephanie’s hands.

Stephanie happily complied, picked one of the cookies out of the bag and munched on one of the dog’s ears.

Sportacus chuckled. “Sorry again I couldn’t enjoy them too, Robbie. It was very nice that you made them.”

“Don’t worry about it. I will always have someone happy to eat them all if all else fails.”

“Pabbi says I am a bottomless pit,” Stephanie announced through a mouthful of sugar. Her eyebrows furrowed cutely after a second, however, and she added, “Pabbi calls me a whole bunch-a things.”

Sportacus barked a laugh.

“That’s because each and every one of them is true,” Robbie replied primly.

“Even me being a gremlin?”

“Especially you being a gremlin,” Robbie said easily, and he reached to grab the remains of his coffee with his free hand and he sipped.

So they sat like that. Stephanie on Robbie’s lap, munching away on cookies, Robbie still on the edge of Sportacus’ desk, and Sportacus nursing the cup of coffee as the three of them spoke.

Despite the disastrously embarrassing incident regarding the cookies -

- It was really nice.

“- Well I think Stephanie and I should probably stop taking up your time.” Robbie said, while shifting to get Stephanie to hop off of him.

“You aren’t taking up my time at all,” Sportacus insisted, “But we should probably wrap it up before it gets any later.”

“Agreed.”

“Aww, but I was having lots of fun,” Stephanie complained. “I like it when you and pabbi are talkin’ togeder.”

Sportacus felt his face pink, and he covered it with a cough.

Robbie seemed to have caught the same dust that was in the air, and said, “Well - we can bother ‘Mr. Sportacus’ some other time.”

Sportacus smiled a little, getting up from his desk.

Robbie continued, “Because he still owes me the story for his ridiculous nickname.”

Sportacus laughed. “Of course.”

After that, they said their goodbyes, and Robbie and Stephanie left the classroom, closing the door behind them.

“Okay - bye! See you tomorrow Stephanie!”

“Bye Mr. Sportacus!”

“See you later, then.”

Once the door was shut, Sportacus stared at it for a good long while. Slowly, he sat himself back down behind his desk, buried his burning face into his hands, and resisted every urge he had to scream.

He was so absolutely, positively happy.

Chapter Text

Spring was pulling back as Summer started it’s approach. Spring flowers began to wane, and summer flowers began to blossom. The rich bright yellow-green of new leaves darkened into deep undertones, and the shade no longer was crisp and almost too-cool, but a comfortable place to sit in the grass.

It was Sportacus’ favorite time of year.

He was able to teach the majority of his lessons outside, and his activeness was in full-force.

This year was especially happy because he was still having impromptu after-school time with Stephanie’s father.

It was never that long, always brief little exchanges - Robbie appeared to be much, much busier as of late, so they hadn’t the time for another round of coffee like the other times before - but there was a certain effort made to speak; even if it was just for five minutes.

And it was nice. Really nice.

He hadn’t expected it, and Sportacus didn’t know what to make of it, but it was nice.

He knew the chances of Mr. Glæpur actually being interested in him was rather statistically small - that there was likely no attraction on his side what-so-ever - but Sportacus didn’t care; because even then, he was thrilled that Robbie seemed to have chosen him as a friend.

That fact alone sent Sportacus over the moon. Bolstered by the fact that Trixie had pulled him aside one day to mention the fact that Robbie hardly ever made friends, and seemed to actually be putting in effort to speak with Sportacus.

So despite what Sportacus himself felt - the schoolboy-type crush that fluttered in his chest whenever he saw the man - he knew he could be happy with just Robbie’s friendship if he came down to it.

So Sportacus was in a state of relaxing bliss.

The season was perfect, and he was making a new friend.

However. Life was life.

Life was never perfect.

Life was never always sunshine and roses and happy feelings fluttering in chests.

Life was unfortunately real, and life happened whether people wanted it to or not.

And unfortunately for Sportacus, things in the life of a simple first-grade teacher could be just as difficult and distressing as anyone else - whether he liked it or not.

And usually, when life happened, Sportacus felt it happened to people that he cared about.

Like one Friday before a long-weekend, when Trixie dropped Stephanie off to school with an expression that spoke volumes of stressed seriousness.

Sportacus heart lept at the sight of Trixie’s expression, and how Stephanie entered the classroom with a rather lackluster, ‘hello’ directed toward him.

Trixie held back, standing by the door, clearly wanting to speak to Sportacus.

“Okay class,” Sportacus said over his shoulder once everybody was accounted for and inside. “Get out yesterdays’ colouring, we’re going to finish that first. I just need to talk to someone. I’ll be right outside the door.”

The clatter of children getting coloured pencils beginning, Sportacus turned his attention to Trixie wholly.

“What happened?” He immediately asked, stepping outside the classroom enough so the children wouldn’t hear their conversation.

Trixie took a moment to respond, shifting as if trying to find a way to word it. “There was a bit of an... incident at Robbie’s workplace.” She didn’t leave Sportacus wondering as she immediately followed it with, “He was hospitalized.”

Sportacus felt his stomach freeze.

What.

“Hospitalized?” he asked. “What happened? Is he okay? When did this happen?” he tried to control his immediate panicked tone, but he was worried.

Hospitalized. That sent rather unpleasant images to Sportacus’ mind’s eye.

“Last night,” Trixie explained. “Robbie managed to get a sudden pick-up shift and so Stephanie was going to have a ‘sleepover’ at my place...” Trixie dithered a bit anxiously. “I didn’t mind because I was just studying and I didn’t mind the company...”

Sportacus was patient. “So it happened at work? Last night?”

“That’s what he said on the phone. He said that he was hospitalized and they wanted to keep him for a while for observation and I... I don’t know what that means or whatever... But it was too late for us to visit him, and too early for before school and there was no way the buses would get there and...” Trixie sighed, rubbing her arm. “He didn’t want Stephanie to miss school anyway, he was really insistent that she go.”

Sportacus looked at Stephanie over his shoulder, and saw her head on her crossed arms on her desk.

“But what happened?”

Trixie shrugged, biting her lip. “He didn’t exactly go into details when I asked him. He just said he was fine.”

Damn. Sportacus rubbed a hand through his hair anxiously. “Anything else?”

“He wanted me to tell you that he was okay,” she said, “and that he was going to be released later today, and to just... like... can you look after Stephanie today? He didn’t say this part, but like, he really trusts you with her. A lot.” She added. “He would have phoned you himself, but he doesn’t have your number, and he was getting really groggy on the phone so he was probably, like, drugged up or something?”

Sportacus took a breath, nodded and tried to process all the information. He felt his heart fluttering somewhere close to his throat, and a icy pinch just below his sternum.

“Stephanie will be fine here. Is... there anything else I... should know?” he asked carefully.

Trixie shook her head. “Robbie just kept saying to repeat that he was fine, that everything was being ‘blown out of proportion’ and to not scare Stephanie. He emphasized that a lot.”

“Did he talk to Stephanie at all?”

“Oh yeah - he did. Told her he was fine, and that he’d see her later, and make her cookies and read her favorite stories in his silly voices,” Trixie said, “But she didn’t take it well.”

Of course Stephanie didn’t take that well. He wasn’t taking it well. The idea of Robbie being suddenly hospitalized for unknown reasons because of ‘something’ that happened at work was hardly a comforting thought. Robbie’s insistence to otherwise did nothing to placate worry either.

It for some reason amplified it.

“Thank you Trixie.” Sportacus said after a moment, sighing out a breath to even his own anxiety. “Which hospital is he at? Just in case?”

“Meanswell Memorial, room 110.”

“Right. Okay.” Sportacus ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you Trixie.”

She nodded.

“... Can I do anything to help you?” Sportacus asked; he wasn’t about to ignore how upset she was .

“Nah. Not really. Once I see that old bastard in person I’ll give him a talking-to for giving me a heart-attack. But for now, just look after Pinkie?”

“Of course.”

Trixie turned to leave, but stopped. “Oh... And um, Mr. Ttaálfurinn?

“Yes?” Sportacus said, surprised by the use of his actual surname.

“Robbie and Stephanie have - uh - been through a lot before moving to Lazytown. I mean, a lot. It might come up,” she said, glancing in the direction of Stephanie. “I’d explain to you more, but that is really Robbie’s decision...”

Sportacus held up his hand. “Say no more. I appreciate everything that you’ve already told me.”

Trixie left after waving goodbye to Stephanie - she had picked her head up from the table to watch the two of them talk.

Sportacus entered the classroom, and shut the door behind him.

Oh boy.

This day was going to be interesting.

Well.

Sportacus wasn’t wrong about that.

Though it was hardly the first time that Sportacus had to deal with a serious situation that blanketed over the feeling of a day, but it didn’t make it any easier to keep up his usual happy-front for the children as he taught.

But he went through the motions, and kept his watch on Stephanie all the while.

She was... quiet.

It brought back memories of the first few days when Stephanie had first come to Lazytown Elementary.

She had been a much quieter girl during those short few days. Shy, but definitely full of a hesitant sparkling hopeful energy. And when he had reached out to encourage her, it had all spilled out at once.

She instantly had blossomed into the bright, cheerful, friend-making, heart-stealing clever little girl that he knew.

But this was different from that hesitant shyness.

This was a quiet deep-seeded almost haunted worry. One that striped out the sparkle, and was like a wash of grey over her brightness.

Sportacus knew that she would be worried for her father - any child would be - but this felt more than that. There was much more to it.

She hardly spoke to the other students, and when he came around to her desk to speak to her or encourage her, she responded only in nods or tight controlled words.

She was closing off rapidly and his worry for Stephanie was surmounting any worry he had for Robbie.

Trixie said Robbie and Stephanie had ‘been through a lot before’. What had happened to cause this kind of reaction.

Any and all attempts to brighten her up or distract her didn’t quite work. She still worked, and she, bless her, was doing her best, he could tell.

But like fine china, she was cracking around the edges, and Sportacus knew that it wouldn’t be long until he had to rush and catch the pieces before the shattered on the ground.

And it happened, like he knew it would, as the kids were leaving to be picked up by their parents at the end of the day.

She had gone the whole day without breaking down. The whole day she had fought whatever inner-demon it was, and the whole day she had been far stronger than he expected any six-year-old could be.

But when the other students filed out, leaving Stephanie in the classroom - Trixie was late - she broke.

One moment she was slowly putting away her books into her pink backpack, and the next she was breaking down into sobs, burying her face into her hands as her hair covered her in a curtain of bright pink.

Sportacus rushed to her side immediately, going down on his knees next to her desk and pressing a hand into her back comfortingly as her shoulders shook.

She looked so... so small.

“Hey.. hey... It’ll be okay...”

She just sobbed.

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to cry,” he encouraged. “You’re allowed to be upset. You can cry all you want.”

She choked on a few more sobs, hiccuping, and he half-wondered if she was trying to stifle her tears despite what he had said.

It was so heartbreaking to watch.

She looked up at him, brown eyes sparkling with immense sadness, but also searching desperately for some comfort somewhere... anywhere.

“You can cry,” Sportacus encouraged again.

Stephanie turned away fully from her desk and Sportacus found himself with an armload of a small sobbing little girl.

He folded his legs under him so he would be more comfortable with the added weight, and he wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest.

Sportacus just let her cry.

He didn’t hush her, or try to get her to stop, he only rubbed her back and encouraged her to let it all out. It did no child any good to contain such sheer angst and obvious pain. Hell, it did nobody any good to withhold such emotion.

So Sportacus just let her cry.

It took some time, but her sobs ebbed into hiccups, and though big fat tears still rolled down her face, her breathing was far more controlled.

Sportacus only spoke once he was sure that she was calm enough.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sportacus asked as adjusted her so he could see her face a little better. Her cheek was buried against his chest and he supported her with one arm.

She shrugged, but didn’t say no. Instead she rubbed her face with one of her hands.

“Is this about your pabbi?” Sportacus asked.

She nodded.

“Did he talk to you on the phone today? Do you remember him telling you that he was going to be okay?”

She nodded again.

“Do you believe that?”

She shrugged.

Sportacus couldn’t speak for Robbie - or much for the situation - his own worry made his mind want to draw the most extreme and unrealistic of scenarios; but he had to look at the facts, what was presented to him.

“If he was able to phone you, and talk to you on the phone, and Trixie told me that he was going to be released today, that means he will be okay to go home. That’s a very good thing, do you understand?”

She took a shaky breath.

“If he can come home, that means even though he might be hurt a bit, he is okay enough to be home.” Sportacus hoped that was the case, that he wasn’t just parroting placating words from a parent to a child trying to shield them from a harsh truth.

But he was pretty sure that Robbie would never do that to Stephanie.

“He’ll be home tonight,” Sportacus rubbed her back. “And - and even if he isn’t, he will be soon, okay?”

She nodded.

He had a feeling - evident by how she had acted all day - this was not the whole issue.

“What... what is really bothering you? I know that your pabbi being in the hospital is very scary for you,” and him, “But... what are you really worried about? You don’t have to tell me if you’re too uncomfortable though, Stephanie.”

He hit the mark. Stephanie sniffed, her lip wibbling.

Sportacus rubbed her shoulder as best he could. “You are allowed to talk about it.”

“I-.. I...”

He gave her a moment to work through new streaking tears and her little hands shaking from whatever thought was terrifying her.

“Yes?” he hummed.

“They’re going to take me away again!” she suddenly cried - her voice fresh and raw and cracking. “They are going to take me away from pabbi an- and I’ll never see him again a-and they’ll sa-say he’s a - a b-bad pabbi... a-and...” she hiccuped as hot tears flooded down her face. “- a-and...” she hiccuped. “He’s not. He... he’s the best pabbi ever.”

Sportacus was nearly stunned into silence.

“What?” Sportacus squeezed her shoulder. “Who is going to take you away from your pabbi, Stephanie? I don’t think anyone is going to take you away from him.”

What was she talking about!?

“B-bu... but it happened before. They-they took me - a-and Pabbi was so angry and scared. And he even cried a-and... I want my pabbi.” She started sobbing a-new. She cried out, “I want my pabbi!”

Sportacus just pulled her to him, the hand that wasn’t supporting her pulling her head against his chest.

What had happened to them?

Sportacus pressed his cheek into her hair, and affirmed his hold on her by pulling her as close as he could, hoping that his presence could do anything to comfort her.

And that was how Trixie had found them when she had finally rushed in, apologizing for being late.

“I’m sorry the buses were - oh shit.” Trixie wasted no time in rushing over to their side.

Stephanie was no longer sobbing, thankfully, but she clearly wasn't magically all better. “I w- I want my pabbi...”

“I know, I know,” Trixie said, scrambling for a solution. Sportacus didn’t blame the panic in her voice, she probably hadn’t expected this of all things. “I’ll take you to see your pabbi, okay? We can take the bus to the hospital an we can go see your pabbi.”

That was probably for the bes - wait.

Something clicked in Sportacus mind. “No.”

Trixie’s head snapped up. “What?”

“No. No buses. I’m driving you.” He announced, standing with Stephanie still in her arms. “Right now.” Stephanie’s arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried into him. “This can’t wait, she also can’t go on public transport like this.”

“You don’t have to -”

“Believe me,” Sportacus said. “I want to.”

Sportacus had wasted no time in closing up his classroom, grabbing his jacket and keys, and he rushed out of the school toward his car and got everybody situated.

He had so many questions. So many questions to ask, but he knew that he couldn’t ask them of Stephanie - she was just a little girl for Pete’s sake, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask Trixie for privacy reasons.

It was Robbie’s decision.

It was Robbie that was in the hospital after all.

However that happened.

He turned into the Meanswell Memorial parking lot, paid the toll, and once parked, he pulled Stephanie from the car.

Sportacus just up and carried her - Trixie following - to the receptionist desk.

“Can you tell me where room 110 is? Where a Robin Glæpur is staying? I have his daughter here to see him.”

“Oh yes...” the receptionist said easily as she typed away on her computer, “Just go up the elevator and turn right.”

Sportacus was glad that the cliche of ‘no visitors outside of family’ was not used against him, and though that lessened his worry of what could be wrong with Robbie - it just made him move with more determination to get Stephanie to her father.

Stephanie clung to Sportacus as he strode down the halls - Trixie still following - and he stopped in front of the open door of room 110.

It wasn’t a shared room that had four beds separated by curtains like he expected. It was a rather minuscule room entirely, just enough for one person.

A person of whom was sitting up with his legs over the edge of the bed, looking idly at a heavily-bandaged hand.

“Pabbi!” Stephanie cried, voice choking with new tears.

Robbie looked up in shock as Sportacus put Stephanie down so she could rush to her father.

“Stephanie? Wait - Woah woah woah! Watch it-!” Stephanie crashed into Robbie.

“Pabbi!”

“W-woah! Honey, sweetheart. Come on - what’s... what’s this about -” Robbie was shocked, bewildered, upset. And in a wide-eyed confusion, he rubbed her back with his good hand. “Shh... shh...”

“D-don’t let them t-take me away.”

Sportacus’ heart broke.

Robbie froze, eyes widening. “What? What no! Honey! No no no! That’s not going to happen! No honey. No...”

Sportacus just stood back at the doorway, watching.

“B-but -”

“No no, listen to me,” Robbie held her out at arms’ length, despite his bandaged hand. “Nobody is going to take you away.”

“B-but -”

Robbie hushed her. “No. Nobody. I promise. Remember what I said? They’d have to pry you from me personally. They will never ever take you away again.”

Stephanie sniffed, voice shaking.

“Look at me,” Robbie tipped her face up.

She did so, Sportacus’ heart broke at her expression, so fearful of whatever realities she was conjuring up.

“I love you. Come here,” and Robbie pulled her into a proper warm hug. “It’s fine... You’re fine... I’m fine...”

Feeling the moment was too private, Sportacus turned to leave.

“Hey,” Robbie’s soft voice stopped him.

Sportacus turned, looking at him questioningly.

As Robbie rubbed Stephanie’s back. “After I... after I calm her down, I want to talk to you - explain things.”

Sportacus chewed his bottom lip. He wanted explanations more than anything and he wanted assurances that Robbie was okay as well; but all of this felt too personal, and he didn’t want to pry.

“You don’t have -”

“I want to,” Robbie impressed, and Sportacus felt his heart flutter. “Please. Go... go pick up dinner or something, and we can talk. Stephanie and I just need a few minutes.”

Sportacus nodded, and after one last look at the father and daughter pair, Trixie and Sportacus left them alone.

He let the relief wash over him.

Chapter Text

When driving to a local restaurant to get their food – Sportacus didn’t even want to entertain the idea of getting hospital food – he was silent.

Trixie had come along too, and thankfully she didn’t prompt him to speak at all.

He needed to sort things out in his head, and realize that at least the situation was not as awful as he had been projecting it was.

Hopefully.

Sportacus didn’t order much for himself – honestly he wasn’t hungry – he let Trixie order for herself and Robbie, and he picked out finger-foods for Stephanie.

He hoped it would be good enough.

Though if Sportacus was being completely honest with himself, his anxiety was no where near the meals.

He was still worried about Robbie.

He was still worried about Stephanie.

He was still worried about everything.

So when he finally made it back to the hospital and to Robbie’s room, two meal-boxes in hand, he swallowed.

Hopefully everything would turn out alright.

When he knocked on the door, he heard Robbie beckon them in.

And thankfully the sight he saw was not a sobbing Stephanie, but a much perkier little girl. Though her eyes were still a bit puffy and red-rimmed from all her crying, her spirits certainly looked much higher.

“Come on Steph -” Trixie was the first to speak, and she gestured with Stephanie’s meal in her hand. “Mr. Sportacus bought us all food, and I saw this awesome playground outside the hospital. Wanna go eat there?”

Sportacus and her already discussed a way to gently get Stephanie out of the room without her panicking again. Though he wouldn’t press the issue if Stephanie refused to leave. He and Robbie could always talk later if it came down to it.

As expected, she looked warily at her father.

Robbie just chuckled. “Go on. I know you want to go, brat. I’ll be right here. I just want to talk to your dear Mr. Sportaflip.”

Stephanie stared at him.

“What?” he said, innocently. “I just said I wanted to talk to Mr. Sportaloon?”

“... It’s Mr. Sport-a-cus.” Stephanie corrected, sounding out each sound with a huff.

Something told Sportacus this wasn’t the first time that they had had this conversation.

“Right. Right.” Robbie nodded sagely, and like he hadn’t been listening at all. “Sorry. Mr. Sportaweirdo.”

“... Pabbi!”

“What? I mean. Sporta... Sporta... Sportakook! Yes. That has to be it!”

Even Sportacus couldn’t resist a chuckle, and he caught Robbie winking at him from the corner of his eye.

The effect Robbie clearly wanted happened as Stephanie giggled and she pushed her father’s arm. “Pabbi! Stop being silly!”

Robbie poked her nose. “No. Never. I’ll be silly and bother you till the end of time – you’ll never be rid of me. Now go and eat supper with Trixie outside - I have boring adult stuff to do.”

Stephanie looked hesitantly at her father. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He leaned and kissed her forehead. “Go on.”

And with a little encouragement, Stephanie left the hospital room with Trixie.

Once the door was shut, leaving him and Sportacus alone together – Robbie sighed. “Thank goodness,” the man muttered, mostly to himself. It was only when Robbie said, “Sit down,” had Sportacus realized he was still standing against the wall.

He awkwardly sat down in one of the chairs, and handed over one of the boxes of food.

Robbie gingerly opened it with his right hand – it was his left that was bandages, and he looked at the contents with half-baked interest. Clearly Robbie wasn’t all that hungry either, but he took up the fork anyway and poked it into one of the french-fries inside.

“So...” Robbie began, because Sportacus had no idea how to. “You probably want to know what happened.”

Sportacus couldn’t deny that. “I more or less want to be sure that you are okay,” he admitted. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Robbie waved off. “It’s all nothing sleep, rest and medication won’t solve,” Robbie offered. He trailed off slightly, shoving the food around inside of the box with the fork idly. “This whole thing is just bloody inconvenient.”

“What did happen?” Sportacus asked, his own food still in the sealed box in his lap.

Robbie sighed. “A mess, that’s what.”

“Trixie said it happened at work?”

Robbie nodded, and sighed. “It happened at a bar I work at,” he started to explain. “I’m not a full-time worker, and they just call me when they need me,” he briefly explained.

“They needed you last night?”

“They’ve been calling me the past few nights, actually, to cover a late-night shift.”

Sportacus nodded, understanding.

“- Anyway,” Robbie continued. “There’s been this creep lurking around the place. He keeps trying to talk to one of our female bartenders and he’s been getting very out of hand about it. She’s very kind and friendly and all of that, but he takes it personally, you know? Like, she does it all just for him and it’s not a requirement of the job or something.”

Sportacus wrinkled his nose in disgust. “And what happened...?”

“So they’ve been calling me in to work with her. She’s a great bartender, and she needs the money, so she can’t afford to not work. So I just play interference whenever he’s there,” Robbie explained. He was rubbing his left hand idly as he spoke, and Sportacus could tell that he was growing anxious just by telling the story.

He resisted the urge to put his hand on Robbie’s knee to comfort him so he tapped his foot instead.

“Well, the guy didn’t appreciate it much after the first time it happened, and it kept happening. He wouldn’t do anything, just look disgusted and leave. He also didn’t do anything much we could report to the police about, he was just making Zoe uncomfortable.”

“Zoe?”

“Oh. The bartender. She’s actually the elder sister of that Zweets kid.”

Sportacus blinked. “Ziggy?” The kindergartner kid that Stephanie sometimes played with?

“That’s the one.”

Oh so that’s how Robbie knew him. Sportacus had always wondered. Especially after the one time that he had spotted Ziggy dashing to Robbie and nearly gluing himself to Robbie’s leg.

It had been amusing to watch, because Robbie had tried to wiggle him off to no avail.

“I think I’ve met her,” Sportacus recalled. “Sometimes picks up Ziggy? She’s really bubbly.”

“Yep. That’s her,” Robbie nodded.

“So what happened?” Sportacus asked.

“Well, I was playing interference as usual. I saw the guy, made up some excuse for her to serve another person, and I served him myself. He just...” Robbie winced at the memory. “Snapped. It was sudden.”

Sportacus’ grip tightened on his food-box, and his foot stopped tapping. “Snapped?”

“Went from just being a disappointed sleaze to a full-blown stalker psychopath. He started yelling and shouting and he took out a knife.”

Sportacus paled a little. “And...?”

"He accused me of 'being in the way' and that I was ‘ruining his chances’ -” Robbie swallowed.

Sportacus couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and touching Robbie’s leg. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t -”

“- No. I probably should. I’ve been told it helps.”

Sportacus nodded, but didn’t retract his hand. Robbie never commented on it.

Robbie continued. “He grabbed me and tried to stab my face -”

“What!?” Sportacus couldn’t contain himself, and he gripped Robbie’s knee.

“No no! Obviously he didn’t manage it,” Robbie quickly said, “- I – er – put up my hand.” He held up his left as demonstration. “It took the knife. Literally. The doctor’s said that it was a clean cut though - shockingly – and despite it going straight-through I might not even have a scar.” The tone was light, as if Robbie was trying to insert levity, but his face was pale.

Sportacus swallowed. “That’s -”

“- Awful, I know.” Robbie sighed. “And Then when that didn’t work the psychopath just grabbed me and slammed me into the counter. I don’t really remember much else. The police say that he had been tackled by a few of our bigger patrons and was taken away when the police came.” Robbie shrugged.

“And then...?”

“They called an ambulance – obviously. I had to be kept here overnight because of the possible concussion.” Robbie tenderly touched the side of his head.

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Shockingly okay,” Robbie breathed. “I’m just glad that Zoe wasn’t the one that got the brunt of his anger, you know?”

Sportacus could understand that feeling completely.

After a moment of sitting in silence, Robbie changed the subject, “Thank you for looking after Stephanie today.”

Sportacus flushed. “I was literally just doing my job. I was going to be teaching today regardless,” he argued, knowing full-well that was not what Robbie had been meaning at all.

“No no,” Robbie waved his hand. “That’s not what I meant. You know what I meant.”

“I know,” Sportacus relented, even though he felt as if he did not do much in the way of helping Stephanie at all, “I was happy to look after her,” he said. “Stephanie is a wonderful person.”

Robbie smiled for the first time since they started this conversation. “She is, isn’t she? A brat though.”

Sportacus laughed. “No she isn’t!”

“Oh yes she is.”

“She doesn’t do anything brattish that I’ve witnessed,” Sportacus replied with ease. “Not once.”

“That’s because she wants to impress ‘Mr. Sportacus’ and save it all up for me anyway,” Robbie retorted. “You have no idea what a troublemaker she is. Especially with Trixie as an influence.”

Sportacus chuckled.

“Seriously, she just puts on an angel act around you.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yes uh huh,” Robbie retorted with a roll of his eyes. “One day you will know what I mean.”

“I’m sure I will.”

They sat in a somewhat more comfortable silence after that. Robbie had picked at his food some more, and Sportacus just sat there, food still in his lap between his hands.

There were still some things unanswered between them though.

Best get through it all.

“Stephanie was really upset,” Sportacus finally said, once he felt the moment was right.

Robbie, having anticipated the statement, put down his fork. “She had every right to be.”

Sportacus’ eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

Robbie sighed, running his hand through his unusually-unkempt hair. “I don’t really want to go through details right now, but let’s just say that someone had a personal vendetta against me and made a purposefully false-claim that I was an unfit guardian...” he trailed off heavily.

Sportacus felt his stomach turn to ice. “No.”

“Yes.”

Sportacus half-spluttered, “But that’s completely untrue! You’re a perfectly fit guardian! I’ve never seen a happier or healthier little girl!”

“I know. I know. Don’t – don’t get all twisted up about this. It’s in the past. It’s all been sorted and the people who made the false claims have been charged. It’s – it’s a closed case.”

Sportacus felt anger boiling in his chest though.

He had heard cases were someone had a petty difference with someone else and decided to make untrue claims against one party to make them seem bad. Abusing the systems put in place to keep children safe just to satisfy some personal grievance made Sportacus’ blood boil.

If what Robbie was implying was true then...

Someone had called the police on him, and -

Stephanie could have been taken away.

Who would do that to a family?

It was not something that could be thrown around and abused!

“Sportacus – you’re crushing your food.”

Sportacus breathed and let go, looking down at the crumpled container. At least it didn’t leak.

Sportacus cleared his throat, and tried to speak in level tones. “Tell me that Stephanie wasn’t -”

“What? Oh! No. Well, sort of, but not really,” Robbie explained quickly.

Not really?

“The police and CPS descended on me very fast, you know. Especially with the outrageous claims of ‘rampant abuse’ that the bitch had been making. Of course they had to act fast,” Robbie explained.

Sportacus’ moustache twitched in anger. ‘rampant abuse’!? But he let Robbie continue without saying anything.

“- A very nice police woman had taken Stephanie away from my apartment while the... whole situation had been dealt with,” Robbie said. Though anger was evident in his voice despite his intention was to placate Sportacus.

“Then what -”

“The bitch had been shouting at my daughter. That’s what. Shouting at her as she was being lead away – thinking she had won – that Stephanie would ‘never see her father again,’ that ‘he will be in jail’, and that she ‘deserved to be in foster care’ and things like that.”

Sportacus wanted to hit something. “Surely the police didn’t believe a word-”

“Not a word. It was solved within hours; practically when they got there, even. It was pretty obvious what was going on the moment they got there, but they still had to do routine check, of course. I gladly let my home and my life be pried into to prove a point. The moment that bitch opened her mouth to shout horrible things at my daughter they had a feeling what the truth was.

“When did Stephanie come back home?”

“A day later. The police woman was kind enough to take her for the night.” He then added. “We now talk regularly via email.”

“And the... woman?”

“Fined. Charged with some serious stuff too. Let’s just say CPS and the police don’t take kindly to false claims of that nature.”

Thank god.

It could have been so much worse.

“But now you can see why Stephanie... reacted as she did. She’s had a lot of trouble with that since. She was just five at the time, Sportacus. It really, really got to her. Even though us adults didn’t believe a word that woman was saying, for a five-year-old to hear that shout at her...” Robbie clenched his fist for a second before breathing it through.

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“Not as sorry as I am. I should have known to move the moment she started her personal grievances...”

“That’s not your fault! You didn’t cause her to call police on you. You were living your life! That’s no reason -”

“Well to her it was. She threatened she’d call, you know. I just didn’t believe her.”

“This still isn’t your fault.”

“Well, at any rate,” Robbie said, changing the subject. “That’s why we moved here – to get away from it.”

Sportacus let loose a breath, and he gently grabbed Robbie’s right hand. “I’m glad you did. I’m glad you both moved here.”

Robbie was slightly red, but he didn’t tug his hand away.

“- And whatever happened before wasn’t your fault. You said so yourself, that it had all been figured out within hours. If you had any fault at all, you wouldn’t be where you are right now.”

Robbie blinked. “Pardon?”

Wait.

Oh shit.

Sportacus faltered, “I don’t mean here in the – the hospital here I mean- I mean... I didn’t mean- That came out horribly.” Oh god he was an idiot.

Robbie was staring at him, and he burst out laughing.

Robbie’s hand tightened around Sportacus’ as he bent over letting out the loudest guffaws Sportacus had ever heard from the man. It just have been hurting him too, because he was wincing, but that didn’t stop his laughter.

“I – what?” Sportacus chuckled lamely, surprised, but mostly confused.

“T- th-” Robbie choked, laughing.

“I... er... sorry.” Sportacus said, not knowing what to say or do as Robbie wheezed.

“You... you-” Robbie eventually said, trying to breathe, but it just was wheezes. He let go of Sportacus’ hand to rub at his temple. “What the hell was that?”

Sportacus felt his face turn a deeper shade of red. “I’m sorry.”

“ ‘Wouldn’t be where I am right now,’ oh gee – thanks,” Robbie said, but there was no hint of anger or maliciousness, his eyes were sparkling.

“I was trying to imply being here... in Lazytown.”

“I know what you were trying to do,” Robbie teased. “Good to know that my being in the hospital is a blessing though.”

Sportacus spluttered. “Hey! I was trying to be comforting!”

“Yes. Oh so comforting.”

“Robbie!”

“Maybe I should stay another night if it is such a good thing I am here...” Robbie trailed off.

“Now hold on -”

“Or should I just -”

Sportacus didn’t think he could go any redder. He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

Robbie chuckled. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stop teasing you. I didn’t care, really.” He added, softer. “I know what you meant.”

Sportacus groaned in his hands again.

Robbie continued speaking. “You’re right, you know. I am lucky that I am where I am now. I just wish that I had given myself a push to move to Lazytown earlier.”

Sportacus looked at Robbie from between two fingers. The look he was being given was very sincere.

“Thanks,” Robbie finally said.

“... No problem,” Sportacus smiled.

“I’ll drive you home,” Sportacus offered.

It was some time later, well after the talk and the subsequent lighter conversations that followed. Stephanie and Trixie were back in the room and the doctor had just come in to give Robbie his paperwork and the OK to go home.

Robbie narrowed his eyes at Sportacus.

“Why do I have a feeling that you will insist if I refuse?”

“Because that is exactly what I will do?”

Trixie nodded.

Stephanie nodded too.

“Ugh. Fine. Thank you,” Robbie relented.

Sportacus helped Robbie gather up what little things he had, and piled them into the bag and offered it to Trixie to carry. There was no way he was going to let the man carry anything.

“Does this mean that Mr. Sportacus is going to see our house?” Stephanie asked, latching her hand onto Sportacus’. Robbie was leaning into Sportacus for support and he couldn’t very well hold her hand as they walked down the hallway.

Sportacus felt his heart warm at the simple gesture, and he squeezed her hand.

“Apartment, sweetheart – and I suppose yes he will,” Robbie replied.

“Yay!” Stephanie cheered.

Sportacus chuckled, adjusting his arm and he pulled Robbie a little closer so the man wouldn’t falter in his steps. He was still wobbly on his feet, it seemed and it would do no good if he tripped...

Robbie didn’t argue against the arm around his waist, and he kept his right arm around Sportacus’ shoulders to steady himself.

“Pardon if our home is messy,” he said.

“I don’t mind,” Sportacus assured.

“Pabbi, our house isn’t messy!”

“Yes it wouldn't be if you picked up all your toys.”

“I pick them up... sometimes.”

“Yes, see there’s my point.”

Stephanie’s brows furrowed. “Maybe you and pabbi can wait outside our house -”

“- apartment -”

“- yeah. Maybe you can pabbi can wait outside, Mr. Sportacus. I can clean up first.”

Sportacus laughed.

Robbie chuckled.

Trixie ruffled Stephanie’s pink hair.

“... What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s fine.”

As Sportacus walked to the car, Stephanie holding his hand, and Robbie tucked neatly against his side, and the knowledge that everything was going to be okay...

... he couldn’t ignore the swell of warmth he felt in his heart.