Jazz Red's Anomaly

c h a p t e r. 35

"Oh, um, no." He shakes his head, thick hair sticking up all over the place. "I didn't ask them."

Raising an eyebrow in question only gets a shrug in reply, so Jazz gets off of the couch he was sitting on and leads the star back into the kitchen, showing him where the mugs were kept before grabbing the creamer out of the fridge.

He doesn't see how it happened-- there's too many different songs and noises around the place-- but he knows that his papa's elbow and his boyfriend's face just got a very crude, accidental meeting and then Castor's falling to the floor with a bloody nose.

Jazz lunges forward, trying to steady his feet and his arms luckily catch the god around the waist, holding them in an awkward position right above the ground. He was thankful that he caught him, he knew how a fall like that felt and it certainly wasn't a good feeling.

Besides, the last thing his star needed was a bloody nose and a concussion

Dark, lightning-strike eyes just stare in a daze, a grimace on his face as pain leaks into his song.

Why is it always Castor's nose that gets hurt?

"Oh fuck," Bar gasped out, throwing the bag of flour-- that he was previously trying to get down from the cupboard when the accident happened-- onto the counter as he crouched down near his son and the bleeding celestial. "I'm so sorry. I didn't, I didn't mean to. Fuck, are you okay?"

Jazz's papa was a sensitive man with a huge heart, he knows that due to his own past and trauma that the last thing his papa would ever want to do is hurt a kid, let alone a kid he now considers his own.

This probably makes him more upset that he's letting on.

"I'm-- nose, nose, nose-- fine," Castor's voice was muffled and grumbled out, eyes squinting up at Bar and the musician, who quickly grabs a clean cloth and hands it to the god. "Wouldn't be a real Christmas--" He growls. "--without a broken nose."

That's... kinda not okay.

Clementine instantly takes to fusing, calling Viv to bring Ahmik over with the emergency medical bag they all keep for situations like this (someone can never be too prepared) and Jazz helped the star clean his nose until he was just sitting on the kitchen floor, mama and papa hovering slightly as his siblings and their partners stayed in the living room.

"I really am sorry," Bar was frowning, that dark worry in his eyes shining through and his goddess mama took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I... I would never-- I didn't mean to."

Although he looked like his mama, and although his papa typically put on this rough exterior towards anyone that hadn't managed to wiggle their way into his heart, he was the one that Jazz inherited the panic and emotional brain from.

So, when his papa's eyes got shiner, bottom lip going into a frown as his shoulders hiked up-- something the musician does too-- he knows he's going to cry.

It was obvious to Jazz, and to his goddess mama too.

But, despite not knowing how, the god could tell as well.

Castor squinted up at him, the light tinge of blood still against his face, as winced, "Please don't cry. I'm-- Christmas lights-- okay, really."

That only seemed to make his papa cry faster, and he held his hand over his eyes, "I have to go. Babygirl, can you--"

"Little Viv's boyfriend is already on his way over, Oly," His mama murmured, already pulling him to the side to take their leave. "Let's g-go calm you down, yeah?"

He nods in return, and just like that Jazz's parents are off to most likely the balcony in their room and the musician turns back to the jaw-clenched, glaring at the ground god.