Page 146 of Preacher Man

"I'll look out for you, old man, just hide behind me."

"You're so full of crap." He laughed. "We're Priests. We take care of each other, Ash, you remember that, always, we got each other's backs. But make sure I'm behind you if your gun goes apeshit, yeah? Don't wanna get hit by a stray bullet, I got babies to make when I get home."

Asher smiled. His brother was already counting down the days to when his commitment to the army was over and they'd barely been here two years, this was their first tour overseas.

Whereas Asher, despite his fear of the unknown ahead of him, loved army life, he had no desire for a family of his own, or people to tie him down to a desk job and mortgage, he'd rather run with danger than being part of the monotonous population.

"Kids?" Asher's chest squeezed even as he laughed. "Seeing Tyler piss on the floor isn't enough to put you off that?"

Having a little brother that wasn't even in school yet was a hard lesson in what Asher didn't want to see in his future. Kids were little pissing and shitting aliens who took away your freedom. Sure, he loved the brat and was always taking him toys when he could get home for the weekend, but as for having a brood of his own... thanks but nah.

"Wait until you grow some proper facial hair instead of that babyface fuzz, bro." chuckled Shane grabbing Asher by the face. "Then you'll be mature enough to know you want kids one day. Just wait, it'll happen."

"Fuck off, bonehead. I can grow a beard if I want one!"

"Sure, you can." Shane didn't sound convinced, what with the way he grinned at Asher who flipped him off. "Come on, speaking of the pissy one, we can grab that toy fire truck he wanted, we’ll take it home tomorrow. Ma will want to see my pretty face before we ship out. Yours, too, I suppose." He hooked an arm around Asher's neck.

"Don't care what you say. I'll leave you to shoot out the kids. And I ain't babysitting, I'll be the uncle that stands waaaaaaay over there and throws peanuts at the cages. Do kids live in cages?"

******

Present Day

The first look Preacher got of Sebastian the whole room shifted under his feet until he thought the hospital was experiencing an earthquake. Ruby had let go of his hand rushing across the single-bed room where the kid was sat on the end of it, his legs dangling over the edge, crushing him to her chest, clutching him gently, her cries were something that tore down to the heart and stayed there. He came into the room much slower, the woman in the corner sat with her purse on her lap looked over at him warily. She introduced herself as a social worker.

It was the kid who had his attention.

Four years old, dressed in a pair of what used to be blue pajamas, now covered in smoke damage, same for his face and hair. He had one of those bowl-cuts, old fashioned for a kid his age but made him cute as fuck, but his face …fuck… every muscle in Preacher’s body tensed with pain, his belly rolling over and his heart just went into freefall.

That little fucking face about killed Preacher to the point he wanted to go down to his knees and bawl his goddamn eyes out. He’d never seen such a sad little kid before.

He wanted to bring him the moon just to make him happy.

And so, quiet. He barely even reacted when Ruby grabbed him in a hug kissing his face, she was holding his cheeks, running a hand through his hair checking he was okay, reassuring herself the kid was alive, and still, he barely reacted.

Shock, most probably, but from what Ruby had told Preacher, this was his normal state, beat down by the shitty life with a shitty parent, it was almost as if the kid was resigned to badness, like it was no big fucking deal he’d just nearly died in a house fire, no big deal he was four years old in a hospital he didn’t know with only the company of a social worker who looked like she chewed wasps for fun.

For motherfucker's sake, the kid broke Preacher’s ribcage wide open. He cleared his throat and ran a hand down his beard, up and down, and back again.

“Auntie Ruby is here now, my love,” she told him then turned to the social worker. “I can look after him when they sign him out of here, I can take him.”

Oh, baby.

He was willing to back her up with anything she needed to deal with this shitstorm, but he could already see on the wasp-chewers face it was not going to be as easy as saying she wanted the kid. “Hello, I’m Jacklyn Denton, the temporary guardian of Sebastian, we were told you were coming. I’m sorry, miss---?”

“Steele. Ruby Steele. I’m his aunt. Rita is my sister. I’m all the family he has.” As upset as she was, Preacher heard the true iron in her voice.That’s my girl. Preacher moved himself further into the room and two little brown eyes came up and at him, still, the boy didn’t twitch a muscle.

Jesus, kid, killing me.Preacher smiled at him and approached gradually before lowering his height by going down on his haunches by the bed. Small legs dangling over the end, he wasn’t even wearing footwear for fuck's sake. Preacher’s heart thumped.

“Hey, little man.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele, but until we have the full story, Sebastian has to be taken care of by the state. His father----”

“Is a waste of fresh air,” Ruby whispered harshly. “He’s not even here when his son in the hospital.”

“Sebastian’s well-being is our priority, Miss Steele, I promise.”

“Yes, and he’s mine, too.” Ruby deflated right in front of him, sitting on the side of the bed she lifted the kid onto her lap, he allowed it but didn’t seem to know what to do with the affection.