Javier's Chico

6.

"Dios mío..." In camp, it wasn't possible to be picky with food. You ate what Pearson made and that was that, if you wanted something else, you got it yourself. Though that rule is much harder with a fussy toddler who didn't really understand the concept, you get what you're given, that's it.

Unlucky for Javier, Mateo was not in the mood for the soup Pearson cooked. Quite frankly neither was anyone else, but they didn't fuss about it. He was a child, of course he would fuss, but Javier couldn't handle another outburst after they damn well nearly starved to death in the desert.

"¿Qué te pasa hoy..?" Javier was getting annoyed, Mateo just wanted to play, but Pearson had just cooked food and the boy would flat out refuse to eat it later when the soup got cold. It wasn't good food, the first time Javier ate it, he nearly vomited it back up. But such was life, they couldn't have everything. "Please, Mateo?"

"No soup!" He tried kicking the bowl of soup out of Javier's hands. The problem was that John had brought back his own food he cooked earlier that day, he could see the man sitting on his cot eating pieces of rabbit out of a brown paper. "No papá!"

"Mateo Escuella, enough of this!" He sighed, putting the spoon back in the bowl. It was useless trying when Mateo was in a bad mood. He just didn't wanna deal with his cries later that he was hungry, though he had food offered to him. He noticed Mateo staring at John's cot and the paper bag with rabbit on it. "You want?"

"Mhm..."

"Fine. Say please." He sat on the ground, exhausted. Whoever said kids were a blessing was a liar. Parenting was the most exhausting, draining things he had ever done. As much as he loved his little mini-me, he drove him insane.

He'd never seen Mateo run that fast. It was more of a waddle though, or a bounce, either way John looked up from his food and saw the toddler running straight at him, toothy grinned and his big curls bouncing up and down.

It wasn't that John was terrible with kids, he'd just never been around them enough to talk to them or be able to tolerate them for more than a minute. "I want. Please?"

"You want what, kid?" He said, forgetting the poor kid barely spoke a word of English. "You want somethin' to eat? I ain't in the mood for your pa to punch me cause I'm givin' you candy."

"Please?!" Mateo pointed at the pile of rabbit meat on the paper bag.

"Ohh. You want some rabbit? Your pa say it's okay? Are kids your age even meant to eat rabbit?"

Mateo grumbled a little to himself while John started ripping up pieces of his food for him. For all he knew rabbit was a choking hazard, kids aren't smart and he'd be in for it if he let Javier's kid choke. Patient was one thing this kid was not, and he was already getting annoyed at how long John was taking. And when it was all ripped up, Mateo didn't budge, he just stared rather aimlessly at it.

"Wha—? Kid, it's there, you can take it." John laughed awkwardly, gesturing to the food in little tiny pieces. "Oh, you want me to feed you? I ain't so sure I should be doin' that.."

"No, not that," Javier came over with the soup from earlier, licking the remnants off the spoon and passing it to the boy, who started scooping up the little pieces of rabbit. "He knows, I do not like dirt."

"What? You a clean freak?" The other man laughed. Javier shot John a glance, shocked by what John had said. "I didn't mean it like that.."

"No...Because I was gross and filthy, Mateo is not."

"He's a kid, he's gonna get messy."

Javier just grumbled in response, barely acknowledging John. It wasn't much but at least Mateo ate something that night rather than go hungry. He thought he would've learnt he can't be picky about food after the hell and starvation they went through getting to America, but apparently not. He ate every little piece John had broken up for him, offering some to his father who politely declined.