Dead Plate Oneshots Toll

Warning: Trans Vincent, Complicated relationships, verbal abuse, depression

Dinner was tense.

Vincent moved through the kitchen in quiet concentration, his every motion smooth, practiced. The table was set with care, and his three sons—Hugo, Theo, and Luc—hovered close, helping without needing to be asked. They watched their mother with quiet, protective looks, each of them catching the small, tired movements in his hands or the way he brushed his hair out of his face.

In the dining room, Rody sat at the head of the table, checking his watch every few minutes, clearly impatient. Across from him, Manon was talking, mostly to herself, flipping through her phone. Every so often, she’d glance around the room, her gaze landing on the framed photos that Vincent had kept on the walls—the kids, a few older ones of Vincent and Rody together, snapshots of family moments from before everything had changed.

When Vincent finally brought the food in, Hugo quickly moved to help, carrying the heavier dishes, keeping an eye on him as if to catch any sign of fatigue. Luc, the youngest, stayed at Vincent’s side, his shoulder brushing against his mother’s arm as he took his seat.

Vincent gave them a quiet, grateful smile as he sat down, his sons close on either side.

Rody, however, wasted no time. “Took you long enough, Vincent,” he said with a smirk, reaching for the bowl in front of him.

Manon giggled, not noticing the strain in Vincent’s face. “Yeah, it must be exhausting, with the boys hanging off you like that all the time.” She glanced at Hugo, then at Theo and Luc, giving them a small, amused smile. “You’re old enough to be a little more independent, don’t you think?”

Theo’s face hardened. “We help him because we want to. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Manon blinked, surprised. “I was just saying, it’s good to learn to stand on your own two feet. Besides, your mom’s got enough on his plate without babying you all the time.”

Vincent’s face softened. “I don’t mind,” he said quietly, avoiding Rody’s eye. “They’re just… being good sons.”

“Oh, come on, Vincent,” Rody scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve always coddled them. They’re teenagers; they should be doing more than hanging around the house like it’s daycare.”

Hugo shot a glare at his father. “Maybe if you were around, we wouldn’t have to.”

The tension sharpened, and Vincent’s hand rested on Hugo’s arm, a silent, pleading gesture. “Let’s just enjoy dinner, please,” he murmured, giving Hugo a gentle look. But Hugo only relaxed a fraction, his gaze still hard on Rody.

Manon reached across the table, giving Rody a gentle pat on the hand. “They just don’t know any better, honey,” she said, her voice calm but with a note of condescension. “It’s hard on kids when the parents split. Especially when their mother starts dressing like a man. It’s weird. Confusing.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “Confusing?” he repeated, his voice tight. “What’s confusing about it?”

“Well, it’s clear you boys don’t quite… understand what a family’s supposed to be like. Rody’s just trying to keep everyone together,” she said, her voice laced with a practiced gentleness. “It’s time for all of you to learn some respect for your father’s choices.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened. “Manon, that’s enough. They don’t have to be lectured.”

Rody leaned back, giving Vincent a hard look. “Maybe they do. Look at them—all over you like they’re five again. They’ve got no discipline, and that’s because you’re too busy spoiling them.” He looked directly at Hugo. “I’m their father, Vincent. When are you going to stop babying them and let me actually be that?”

Luc, seated closest to Vincent, grabbed his hand under the table, holding on as if to protect him from the words. “Maybe if you didn’t make him miserable, we wouldn’t have to be here for him,” he muttered, his voice trembling with anger.

Rody’s face darkened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Watch your mouth, Luc. You don’t know anything about it.”

“Sure we do,” Theo interrupted. “We know you left him, left us. You’re only here because it’s convenient for you. Spoiling your girlfriend with mom’s money.”

Manon sighed, exasperated. “Look, boys, I understand that you have… feelings about all this. But you’ll understand when you’re older that life’s complicated. It’s not my fault that Rody and your aren’t together anymore. Sometimes people just grow apart.”

Vincent’s hand tightened around his napkin, his knuckles white. “Please, just—let’s leave it, alright?”

But Rody didn’t stop. “No, no, Vincent. They need to hear this. They need to know that clinging to you, refusing to move on, is just making this harder for everyone. And maybe you should tell them to back off for once, instead of letting them turn this into a pity party every time we’re together.”

Hugo glared at him, his voice low but steady. “We’re here for him because we care about him. Maybe you’ve forgotten what that feels like.”

Manon’s face tightened, but she kept her voice calm. “That’s enough, Hugo. We’re trying to build something new here, and all of you are doing is making it harder. How about trying to get along, for your father’s sake?”

Theo shook his head, looking at his mother. “Mom doesn’t deserve this. Not from him, and not from you.” He spat the last word out, looking directly at Manon.

Manon’s smile faded, replaced by something icy. “Well, I don’t need your permission to be here. Rody wants me here. And if you can’t accept that, maybe you should think about what it means to support your parents, instead of acting like spoiled children.”

The boys all turned to Vincent, waiting for him to say something, to stand up for them. Vincent took a shaky breath, looking down at his plate, trying to find the right words. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Seeing the struggle on his face, Hugo put an arm around his mother’s shoulders, pulling him close. “It’s okay, Mom. You don’t have to say anything. We’re here.”

Luc reached for Vincent’s hand, holding it tight. “We love you. We’re not going anywhere.”

Vincent managed a small, grateful smile, and a glimmer of sadness in his eyes.

Rody watched this, his jaw clenched. “Fine. Cling to him all you want,” he muttered, pushing his chair back with a scrape. “But you’re going to learn some respect for me and Manon if you want to stay here. Got it?”

Theo glared back. “Respect is earned. And you’re not even trying.”

Without another word, Rody stalked out of the room, leaving an empty silence in his wake. Manon followed him, her face a mix of anger and frustration, but she didn’t spare a glance at Vincent or the boys as she left.

The boys looked back at Vincent, worry filling their faces. Vincent managed a small, shaky smile, squeezing their hands.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, but they could all hear the hurt in his voice.

Hugo hugged him, his voice soft. “We know, Mom. We know.”

As the front door clicked shut, silence fell over the dining room, thick and painful. Vincent sighed, rubbing his temples, feeling the familiar weight settle into his chest. His boys stayed close, their presence a small comfort, grounding him.

“Let’s clear the table,” Vincent said gently, his voice shaky but steady. “We can have dessert in the living room.”

Hugo nodded, moving quickly to gather the plates, shooting Theo a look. Theo took his cue, stacking the silverware and clearing glasses, while Luc took a seat on the kitchen counter, watching Vincent with worried eyes.

Vincent rinsed dishes in the sink, letting the warm water soothe him. “You don’t… have to do all this,” he said softly, almost as if to himself. “I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“We’re here because we want to be, Mom,” Theo said firmly, grabbing a dish towel and drying the plates. “You don’t have to apologize for him.”

Vincent tried to smile, but his expression faltered, and he focused on the dishes instead. He knew his boys meant well, but he hated seeing them caught in the middle of his strained relationship with Rody. It wasn’t fair to them, and he couldn’t shake the guilt that crept in every time he looked at their worried faces.

Luc hopped off the counter and hugged Vincent from the side, his small arms wrapping tightly around his waist. “We’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, his cheek pressed against Vincent’s arm. “And you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine.”

Vincent’s breath hitched, and he placed a hand on Luc’s head, stroking his hair gently. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “You boys… you mean the world to me.”

Hugo entered the kitchen just then, frowning as he saw the way Vincent’s shoulders trembled. “Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly, his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “Take a break from… all of this.”

Vincent nodded, trying to regain his composure. He looked around at his boys, a warmth settling in his heart despite everything. “Okay,” he agreed softly. “Let’s go to the living room. I’ll get the dessert.”

They settled into the cozy living room, the lights dimmed to a soft glow. Hugo brought over a plate of cookies while Theo poured mugs of tea, and Vincent pulled a soft blanket over his lap as he sat on the couch, Luc nestled close to his side.

As they sipped tea in silence, the weight of the evening slowly lifted, replaced by a quieter, safer feeling. The tension faded, replaced with a gentle calm.

But as the night wore on, Hugo finally spoke up, breaking the quiet.

“Mom, why do you stay with him?” His voice was low, cautious, but filled with genuine worry. “Why keep… pretending? When it just makes you unhappy?”

Vincent looked down, the question hanging heavily between them. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “It’s… complicated. And sometimes, it feels easier to just stay, for all of you. I don’t want to make things more difficult than they already are.”

Theo shifted, his brow furrowing. “But, Mom, we’re here for *you.* Not him. You don’t have to put up with him for our sake. We see how he treats you, and we hate it.”

Luc leaned closer, his face determined. “We’ll be okay. We’re old enough. You don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to keep the peace.”

Vincent’s heart ached hearing this, and he looked at his sons, their love and loyalty shining in their eyes. He smiled sadly, feeling a warmth and pain blend together. “You’re all so grown up,” he murmured. “I wish… I wish things could be simpler. But no matter what, I don’t want any of you to feel like you have to pick sides.”

Hugo gave a quiet nod, squeezing Vincent’s shoulder reassuringly. “We’re always on your side, Mom. We don’t care what he says.”

Vincent brushed his hand across Hugo’s cheek, pride and sadness mixing in his gaze. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m so lucky to have you all.”

Theo leaned in, resting his head on Vincent’s shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, Mom. Really happy. Not just… holding on for us.”

Vincent took a deep breath, fighting back the emotions threatening to break free. “I don’t know what I’d do without you three,” he said softly. “You remind me every day that at least I did something right in this life.”

They sat there together, basking in the quiet warmth, the sound of Luc’s gentle breathing filling the room as he dozed off. For the first time that evening, Vincent felt a small sliver of peace settle into his heart.

This one took way too long. I was so sure I wouldn’t be able to finish it and it’ll sit in my drafts abandoned.