Enter Hestia {Nolan / Christopher}

Enter Hestia

The man that steps to the door is clearly someone larger than I. It doesn't bother me. Most people are. I'm not huge, I'm not tiny. I'm just average. "Who're you?" He asks, maybe too hastily, but it doesn't matter to me. His face is staring seriously at me when he poses the question. I pause a little, not necessarily freezing in the moment but definitely taken aback by the abruptness of it. But then again, isn't he the same? Whatever conditional leave he received it is clearly not worn off yet, this seems pretty conditional already and he's only barely said three words to me.

"I'm... Christopher. I've come to check everything's okay. You were supposed to be at work." I have to say things to the book, no matter how hard of a time my 'clients', as they call it, are having. I needn't bother asking the man's name, he is clearly who I think it is, Nolan O'Rourke. There's only one forty-odd year old man on the records and this is the only man I can see that is older than me.

Maybe it was the briefly portrayed look on my face, or perhaps he heard how stern he was being; either way he lets out a sigh and steps out of the door and closes it behind him. Closing the door, perhaps of all the trouble that may be inside. I wouldn't know, and I don't ask questions.

"Sorry, it's been kind of a long week." I give him a small nod. I appreciate a person who can talk one to one, and lay the facts out despite how hard it hits them inside. It has to happen, and he must know that. Otherwise he may suffer consequences at work. "It's probably better we talk outside; just brought my son home from the hospital, this is the first time in a while he's gotten any sleep."

Ah, so it must be that kind of conditional leave. He looks far too old to be a man of new fatherhood, though. But then again, who am I to judge? Of course, I lower my voice a little before speaking again. "That's alright, first time home can be tough." I give him a mutual smile simply because I know the feeling, I think. I'm merely assuming just to make this whole ordeal easier for him. I check a couple of things on the clipboard that I have, and whilst none of it says parental duty leave, it seems more so that there's been a mistake in the records or something.

"Just a couple of things to sign for to get you off work for a couple of weeks, it's the least I can do, but the most I'll get away with." This way, he won't have to worry about work for a little while. If he's got a newborn child then he'll have a lot of work to do already. I'd rather just help out a fellow father here, rather than make his time even harder. I care more for kids than I do the mining company.

"So it's a boy then? I'm sorry, you've got your work cut out for you." I raise an eyebrow playfully despite the seriousness of the situation. But of course naturally, I only notice after I've done it how stupid I may look.

Enter Hestia

"It's been taking some getting used to." He tells me. I know that all too well. My little girl has only just started to grow out of the nuisance stage. She's only three whilst my boy is five. They're at good ages, and they get along so well. It's only the beginning of a great partnership, those two. I just dread to think what would happen to them when they grow up. Will they become careers? I wouldn't stop them. I think parents would do anything to have their children grow up safer, and if they knew how to handle themselves they probably wouldn't face any of the problems I have faced. Tough bosses, dark alleys. That sort of thing is all too common, and it's bizarre to think that people actually look at me and expect money to be in my pockets. They'd be quite wrong.

"I appreciate it." His words lift my smile a little. I know the last thing he wants right now is more trouble, so I just had to alleviate some of that. Paperwork is a bitch, and it isn't even productive considering they don't get it right half the time. It's because they literally care very little about the miners, as long as the work gets done. I care, they're human beings.

"Brody was never much of a handful," I raise a brow at him. Never much of a handful. He must have an angel for a child. Either that, or he's just a great dad. Now I see it, he has that look. Maybe I do too, I hope I do. "I can't really say the same of the Peacekeepers though." Something tells me he's not just mentioning the Peacekeepers for nothing. I'm guessing this Brody gets into an awful lot of bother, but then he's never been much of a handful. I can't wrap my head around it, which is why I don't ask questions. I don't want to look stupid.

"You have children?" He asks me, "Yeah, two." I say, a bundle of pride in my tone. I love my childhood without a shadow of doubt over our home. Naturally, but they aren't my biological children. I don't tell people that, though. It's something I don't need - people to think I'm a good guy. I love helping people, but when I make friends I want them to be friends, not people wanting my help all the time. I put a hand into my jacket pocket and fetch out my ID. I open it up and on one side is my name and ID badge whilst on the other I've stitched in two pictures of them. "That's Robbie," I tell him pointing to the little five year old all dressed up for his first day at school earlier this year. It's so rare that I get pictures of anything, so these are special. I can't afford any high-tech machines to take the pictures, so I have to make do with what little the schools provide. I'm sure Nolan knows, given that Brody sounds older than I thought...

"And this is Lily," Now I point to the younger girl of three, before then putting it away. "They're great kids. Harmless." I say that last word with a little bit of bitterness. I know that I am at least a little too soft for this word, but them? Me and Judy are nothing but nice to them. We don't know any other way to teach them. It's so difficult raising a child, especially when we've got so little money, so we have to be nice to them. We don't want to mess them up. "Maybe too harmless. I worry if I'm honest."

I think now is the time to ask questions though, despite my reluctance. Nolan seems troubled from my point of view. Maybe all he needs is a break from all this. "So how old is Brody then?" I ask him curiously. Covertly, I'm wanting to know what happened to him, and why he was in hospital, but I have no idea how to approach such a question. How did your son hospitalize himself? It could be anything. This is why I. Can't. Ask. Questions.

Enter Hestia

"How old?" He asked me. "Robbie's five, Lily's three. Like I said absolutely harmless." I would go into the details of my curiosities about career lives for them, but I have to remember that I have only just met this man. Brody could have been a career for all I know and bad things may have happened. As much as I don't like asking questions, I also don't like assuming everyone has a better live than me.

Nolan's picture brings it into perspective that I have in fact been a little bit silly, assuming that Brody was nothing short of an infant. Naturally, I laugh at my own mistake a little bit. "Oh, he's a bit older than I expected."

"Brody's twenty-one, just a bit older than yours." He offers me the photo and I take a closer look at Brody. I can see a lot of Nolan in him, I can't tell the eye colour but they seem to resemble each other. "Oh right, he's a Peacekeeper," I pause just for a little moment, nothing short of a quick realization. "Not that it's a bad thing." I save myself a little bit. I don't necessarily cover nerves up in the slightest, but now I see it, Nolan could easily be an ex-Peacekeeper... But then I do the maths, surely not.

"Were you a Keeper, back in the day?" I ask him purely out of curiosity rather than necessity. I don't altogether mind the whole Peacekeeping business, as long as it doesn't affect me. I've seen the way they teach their... prey, though. Sometimes it's quite horrific, but the same can be said about criminals. Once, somebody had stolen a bag of my wife's whilst we were carrying some shopping home and he just ran, and ran and ran. The Peacekeepers obviously seen, I don't know what he was doing trying to commit crimes in broad daylight as well as in the District Square, but he did. And he paid the price.

I couldn't count the beatings he received, but they weren't done by time me and Judy had left.

"It must be difficult knowing he's facing tough criminals on a daily basis." I let it loose, unassumingly. I didn't mean to, it was just a natural thing to ask, or state in this case. The thing is, out of all of the things I could've said, that probably was the word. "Sorry, I didn't mean..." I simply try to say. "I hope your son is okay, I think maybe I should shut up."

Enter Hestia

"But my wife was a Peacekeeper medic for a few years." I nod my head. It had to have come from somewhere, especially if Brody was willing to injure himself for them. Maybe it wasn't for them (maybe I shouldn't ask any more questions).

"... Brody had a close call. But he will be."

I think to my own children. I have two, and the records say Nolan only has the one. I wonder if something had happened to one of mine, Lily for example, would I feel the same? Would I feel overwhelmed? Obviously. I can't imagine what it is like to be that kind of parent; the dependent-on-their-safety kind. "I'm sorry, I hope he gets better." I simply and safely say.

"So, what all do you need me to do to set the record straight at work?" I scribble a couple of things down on the paper. "Nothing, I'll sort it all for you. There's obviously been a mistake in the offices." I look down, pondering the repercussions that it will have for me, rather than him. It's nothing to lose my job over, and if it were I wouldn't be irresponsible enough to do that especially with children and a wife needing my help. Probably a slap on the wrist for overwriting work notes. But that is my job, right?

"I hope everything gets brighter over here. I'll see you in a few weeks Mr O'Rourke, I'll check back and see if things are improving myself. I know what it feels like to have the wolf breathing behind you every moment of the day."

With that being said, and everything seemingly done with, I turn on my heel and begin to make my way from the house.