Just Imagine: A Book of Sebastian Stan Imagines

27. You Deserve a Family Too

"Go to your room!" You heard Sebastian shout just as she walked into the house with her youngest children. They had just gotten home from their ballet practice since Nutcracker season was gearing up. You and Sebastian typically take turns taking them if he isn't away filming. 

"Go on up and take your showers," You said to your eight and ten year old since Sebastian had managed to get the house built for each room to have their bathroom. Once your youngest headed towards their rooms, you entered the kitchen to find Sebastian leaning on the counter with his head in his hands. 

"Hi, you ok?" You asked, startling him before he brought you into a hug. 

"Yeah, but I don't think your son will be," he said, currently frustrated with the fifteen-year-old.

"Our son," You corrected, and he nodded his head, "What's going on?"

"When I went to pick him up from practice, his coach pulled me to the side. Apparently, he's been skipping practice, his grades are dropping, and he's close to being kicked off the team," and your heart dropped. 

"How are we just now finding out about all this?" She asked, and he let out a sarcastic laugh. 

"That's the kicker. We've gotten calls, but he's intercepted them. They've sent home papers and got them out of the mailbox. He's being sneaky, and I don't like it, Y/N," he said, and you nodded your head, not quite liking it either. 

"I don't either, but what was the yelling about?" You asked, knowing it was unlike Sebastian to yell at any of the children, no matter how frustrated he was. It was one of the things that you admired about your husband. 

"He decided to become a disrespectful little shit," He mumbled, forcing you to take a step back. 

"Nope, you're not doing that. He's fifteen, Seb. All fifteen-year-olds are like that; they're testing boundaries; we have to keep our cool," You reminded him, crossing your arms. 

"How am I supposed to respect a child who clearly doesn't respect me? Maybe he has it too good with us; maybe we should send him to go live with his dad for a little," Sebastian said, and you froze, looking at him, wondering where this all came from. 

"Excuse me?" You asked, utterly shocked by his statement.

"Maybe by sending him to go live with Edward for a little bit, he'll see that it's not too bad here," Sebastian continued, and this infuriated you. 

"Your solution to handling this behavior is to send him to the man that hurt me in more ways than one? The man who didn't even want him here, to begin with?"

"It wouldn't be forever, babe. Just enough for him to get straightened out,"

"Okay, so if Elisa and Luca act out later on down the road, where will we send them to? To some random family member that they have no connection with?" You asked, trying to get it across to him how ridiculous he sounded. 

"Of course not! We'd handle it here," Sebastian said. 

"Then what makes Charlie any different? Is it because he isn't your son? Is that it?" You asked him, and he got silent, which was all the confirmation you needed, and you scoffed, "Fuck you, Sebastian. That little boy, because he still is a little boy, thinks the world of you, and you're the only dad he knows. So until you can be the father that all three of our children need, then maybe you should go get a hotel room," You said, moving out of the kitchen and upstairs.

You instantly went to Charlie's room and knocked on the door though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear you over his music, so you slowly opened it up to find him lying on his bed crying. Your heart broke at your first baby boy being broken like this, but you also weren't going to let any of his behavior slide.