A/N: So this one shot is a little different, it doesn't really feature Falice but is more of a Knocked Up prequel that I've been working on for a while. Hope you guys enjoy!
Single motherhood was no picnic, especially when the mother in question was still a teenager barely out of high school, living below the poverty line and struggling to scrape through college while handling parenthood.
The second her son was born, Alice promised herself and him that she'd turn her life around, stop repeating the same mistakes and get her act together for the better. It was the least Charles deserved, and now at 5 months old, she's stuck by that promise so far, but dear God she had never felt more stressed and alone in all her life.
Everyone she knew and loved had moved on with life, including Charles' father. Her high school peers were off in outer state colleges, her mother had abandoned her and FP? Well, she didn't know if she'd ever see him again, and it's times like this, where Charles has had yet another troubled night, struggling to fall asleep and her only solution is a quiet night stroll to calm him down, that she really wishes his father was around.
Returning to the trailer with a now fast asleep and settled Charles, the sounds of aggressive coughing and heaving from Forsythe Senior outside of his door got her attention.
She immediately recoiled as she pushed the stroller up her porch, feeling like it wasn't her place to intervene with him or speak, whatever he was going through was down to him to deal with, but the second his gasping coughs fell more aggressive, her sensitive and considerate side kicked in, and she began to worry.
She placed the lock onto the stroller in a hurry, ensuring it didn't roll away before racing over to the frail man.
"Forsythe?" Alice called out as she gently rested her hand over his shoulders, trying to help him stand firmly.
"I'm okay!" He insisted in a hoarse voice gasping for air.
"Clearly you're not!" Alice argued back as she helped the struggling man through to his front door. She watched him relax into his armchair before taking Charlie out of his stroller, being careful not to wake him, and entered the Jones motor home.
The second she closed the door behind her, she was taken aback by the derelict and homespun presence before her.
The living room had a bone chilling temperature and a dark atmosphere from the indrawn curtains. He barely had a stick of furniture in sight, just the one discoloured sofa, his signature battered arm chair and a wooden coffee table stacked with bills and documents. And more disturbing? A rather old oxygen machine right by his side.
She knew Forsythe had never been the cleanest person around or took much pride in his home, but it broke her heart just a little to see ow far he'd clearly sunken over the past year.
She diverted her gaze from the displeasing area and back onto Forsythe as he struggled to get himself comfortable.
"Everything okay Mr Jones?" She cautiously asked, reluctantly sitting down in the beat up couch.
"Yeah, just failed lungs, nothing too rough." He says sarcastically, trying to chuckle in the process. Except, the part regarding the failed lungs was in fact serious. 30 years of 20 a day and a weak healthcare insurance plan had finally caught up with him, and it was only a matter of time before they gave up on him. The oxygen machine was making the struggle of dying much slower and easier, but he knew he was on his way to deaths door.
"What are you doing out so late?" Alice concerned, narrowing her eyes into a brief glare.
"What am I? A cat?" He quirked. "I'm allowed to be out past ten."
