Jaspar One-Shots

Little Pudding Joe 2.0

A/N: Part 2 will follow
For Maisie 💛

Instead of giggles and silly smiles, a glum, solemn looking frown was on little 8 year old Joe's face one Saturday morning. The day had started off just like any other weekend; he slept in a little later than when he had school to go to, he sat down to eat at the breakfast bar with his bowl of cheerios and a glass of milk, watching re runs of SpongeBob on the small kitchen TV.

But it could never be the same without his partner in crime next to him on the right, his spoon drooping in his own bowl as he too concentrated on the humour of the programme.

"I'm sure everything is okay, Joe." His Dad spoke kindly from across the table, having watch the boy's cereal turn soggy and the milk begin to curdle. His son just let out an exhausted, frustrated sigh and allowed his elbows to rest on the table with his head in his hands, even though he knew he wasn't really supposed to do that.

"Good morning, boys!" A cheerier voice broke the sad silence as Tracey entered the kitchen, dressing gown clad and with her fluffy slippers on. Her smile soon fell when her eyes cast down on the littler one, and made her way over to wrap him in a comforting, cuddly embrace.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She cooed gently as Joe leaned into her, head resting on the fluffy material and his small arms wrapping around her thin build. He didn't give her a verbal response, but instead nuzzled his face into his Mum and clenched his hands into fists. Eventually, Tracey encouraged him to pull away slightly, and her hands gently cupped his cheeks and soothed the bags under his young, duller-than-normal eyes.

"Did you not sleep very well?" She asked, earning a shake of the head from her son. "Why dong you go back to bed, Joe, we can go and see Caspar later on instead, or another day perhaps?"

"No! You promised I could see him today, Mum, I want to go now." He whined, his eyes widening at the thought of missing out, progressively becoming more watery.

"Why don't you come cuddle up with me for a little while, and then when Mum has finished getting ready, you can go?" His Dad suddenly spoke up, coming around the other side of the island with his arm around his wife's waist and his other arm stretching out to push back a few stray pieces of hair away from his little boy's crestfallen face.

Joe hesitantly obliged and jumped down from his stool, going to settle on the sofa quietly and waiting for Graham to finish the dishes and join him. At long last, Joe curled up into his side with a different cartoon on the TV this time, happily drowning out the sound of the shower and washing Joe's worries away for a little while- or at least until Zoë came bounding downstairs a little too energetically for Joe's liking.

"Stop!" Joe yelled as his sister as she tried to jump on top of him, arms flailing around to try and hold onto her Dad.

"Zoë, give him some space, love, he's tired."

"I didn't do anything, Dad!" She whined back, giving him her most innocent look and pouting lips.

"Be quiet, Zo!"

"No! It's not fair, I want a cuddle too!" In her small moment of anger towards her younger sibling, Zoë smacked the top of Joe's arm as she still tried to worm her way into the boy's embrace, feeling a little left out. "Why will you let him cuddle and not me?"

"Enough." Graham said sternly, in a voice that they both knew was not to be argued with. "You can have your turn when Joe and Mum go out in a bit, alright Zoë? Right now it's Joe's turn, so no hitting."

"Fine." She mumbled, walking away solemnly with her bottom lip protruding out.

Joe gave out a little sigh before being lifted up onto his Dad's lap, where he rested his head in the crook of his neck tiredly. "How much longer?"

"Not long, I promise." Graham tried to soothe him; he didn't like to see his son feeling worried or anxious when he was so often smiling and giggly with his best friend.

"I just want to see Caspar, Daddy."