Work Text:
Scott's a good kid.
As his mother, Melissa is one hundred percent aware of that fact, but sometimes she has to remind herself of it when Scott repeatedly fails to bring his homework into class and his teacher ends up leaving yet another voicemail.
It's late when she finally gets off work and is able to check her phone. It's even later when she finally arrives home. Scott's up in bed already, because Miss Elsee insists that growing boys need early bedtimes. Not that she's complaining. She knows it might make her seem like a horrible mother, but after late night shifts, when her feet ache and her entire body seems to protest movement, she wants to come home to a nice, quiet house.
"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice," Melissa says to Miss Elsee as the woman moves around the living room, gathering up her stuff.
"It was no problem," Miss Elsee says, looking up from carefully placing books into her ridiculously large purse to offer Melissa a bright smile. "You're good people, Melissa, and Scott's a good boy. You can call me anytime," she adds, patting Melissa on the shoulder before seeing herself out.
Every part of Melissa's body urges her to drag herself upstairs and go the hell to sleep, but it's Saturday. She only has tomorrow to sit Scott down and finish whatever assignments he missed with him, and for a kid that speaks so fondly of school, he's incredibly difficult to actually finish homework with. Sighing, Melissa shrugs off her coat and throws it on the couch before heading into the kitchen. She makes herself a small bowl of cereal, since she knows that she'll head up to bed right after this, before sitting down at the dining room table where Scott's thrown his backpack.
She pulls out way too many skittles wrappers (and a Reese's package with only one candy missing) before she can finally pull out Scott's homework folder. It's bright red, because she had thought that meant it was harder for him to lose, but she had found underneath the couch yesterday before heading to work. The folder is thick, overflowing with papers, and Melissa pushes aside her bowl of cereal. This job will require better fuel than Cheerios. She grabs the half eaten Reese's and starts eating while she sorts.
Thankfully, most of the homework goes into the done pile. It seems like there's mostly math assignments to complete, which is good. Scott doesn't hate English, but he's much better at math. She smiles softly to herself when she reaches a spelling test with a gold star placed on the top. She sets it aside to hang on the fridge before moving on to the next item, which has her pausing.
She knew that Scott's teacher had the kids starting to write "essays", but she hadn't known they'd actually be using title pages. She hadn't made a title page until she was in high school. The title of the essay is simple: My Personal Hero.
Melissa smiles softly to herself. "It's gotta be Captain America," she murmurs to herself. Scott's been obsessed with Captain America, ever since Stiles came over raving about some new comics he was reading. She flips open to the first page, where the teacher has given Scott a full 10/10 with a comment that says "this is so sweet, Scott! Well done!"
Which is a little weird, because Melissa knows Scott's teacher. She doesn't really get worked up over little boys raving about superheroes (Melissa can't blame her; she has to fake a smile whenever Scott and Stiles start to go on and on and on...she shudders to think of having to deal with ten of them, for twenty plus years), but whatever.
"My personal hero is very sweet and very nice," the essay begins. "She is like a superhero, but even better, because she's actually real. She helps people all the time and even works in a hospital! My personal hero is my mom."
The paper goes on for another half a page and Melissa feels tears building up as she reads. There are small illustrations at the bottom of the page and Melissa can't help but laugh at a picture of a stick figure with curly hair that she assumes is her trying to reattach some other stick figure's arm. It's not exactly what she does for a living, but she thinks it's close enough.
She sets the paper down and doesn't bother to stop the tears from falling, because at least she's crying because she's happy. She picks up the page to read it over again and the misses the sound of someone on the stairs until Scott is standing in front of her in his pajamas.
"Mom?" he says, frowning. He steps closer and reaches out for her. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?"
Melissa doesn't say anything. Instead, she pulls Scott in for a hug, wrapping her arms around him tight. The paper flutters to the floor. Scott wraps his arms around her in return, but repeats his question.
"Nothing's wrong, baby," Melissa says, letting Scott pull back. She smiles at him and brushes a piece of his hair out of his eyes. He needs a haircut again, but first.
"Do you want some ice cream?"
Scott blinks. "But it's bedtime."
"Yeah, but you've been a good boy this week. You weren't late for the bus, you did all your chores without me asking, and I got a call from your teacher. She says you've been doing very good. I think you deserve a little ice cream," Melissa replies and her smile widens when Scott beams at her.
"Can I have sprinkles on it? Please?"
"Sprinkles, hot fudge. Whatever you want," Melissa says. She goes to stand, but pauses to pull him in for another hug. She holds on for a little bit longer this time, doesn't let him try to shy away, but he doesn't seem to want to. They stay like that, holding on to each other, until Melissa finally stands.
She hears Scott start to chatter away behind her while she pulls out bowls. It's when she turns to get the ice cream that she notices the paper lying on the ground. She bends down, picks it up, and folds it small enough that she can place it in her pocket, because this paper?
This is something she wants to keep just for her.