headcanon fic, derp
At birth:
They take him home, and now they're Frank and Ann plus one. The name Franken is mostly Frank's idea--Junior is downright over-used, he assures Ann--though even she has to agree that "Franken Stein" has a good rhythm to it. He's a quiet infant, and they quickly discover that he prefers darker colors and quiet toys over the many bright and flashing baby toys they've acquired over the course of Ann's pregnancy. They decide it's a delightful quirk and lavish him with all the attention that parents of an only child can give, and it's not a surprise; the two of them were totally enamored of him from the moment the attending nurse first placed him in his mother's arms.
At two years:
Franken's walking with confidence and beginning to say real words, and they've never been more delighted. Frank beams and Ann covers her mouth in delight every time he says "mama" or "papa". He's still as good-natured as the day they brought him home from the hospital and he's not a picky eater--other young parents in the neighborhood don't hesitate to tell Frank and Ann how lucky they are to have him and the two of them never hesitate to agree. Ann sits him in her lap and reads him story after story, and when she's done Frank gets down in the floor with him and teaches him how to build houses and schools and skyscrapers with wooden blocks. They're convinced they've got the best toddler in the world.
At three and a half:
Franken has his first tantrum, and it's spectacular if only in how badly it surprises his parents; later they'll suppose that he must have been frustrated at himself, but at the time it alarms them both to see him shriek and fling a toy across the living room, seemingly apropos of nothing, and they both nearly wipe out in the rush to get to him when he starts pulling his own hair with a thundercloud expression on his face. Frank gets to him first, and chooses to deal with the situation by picking him up and carrying to his bedroom where they sit in a rocking chair in the dark until Franken calms down. It's a lucky coincidence--the urgency that leads Frank to sit down without bothering to turn the light on first--that shows them the best way to deal with the son they're just now beginning to realize they don't fully understand.
At five:
The complaints start coming after his very first day in kindergarten. He's unusually violent towards the other children, the teacher's note says, and doesn't respect authority. Frank and Ann aren't sure what to think; Franken, after he delivers the note the school sent home with him, stands in the kitchen and pulls his own hair. Frank tells him to go to his room, and when he slips into the hallway a few minutes later to check on him the door is closed and the light is off, but Frank knows his son isn't trying to sleep. He goes back into the kitchen and wonders, for the first time, if there's something more to his boy than just being delicate.
At six:
The school refuses to take Franken back for his second year. Frank and Ann go to the school in person, not for the first time, to speak with the principal--he tells them that until Franken's had a full psychiatric evaluation he'll be recommending him to a state disciplinary school instead. Frank and Ann feel like they have no choice, like they've been bullied into it, but in the end they arrange an appointment at a local clinic for their son. A whole year of insisting that Franken is well-behaved at home, that the teachers just don't want to learn how to handle him, that if they would just make a quiet, dark place for him to calm down when he was upset his behavior would improve has gotten them nowhere with the school administration.
Waiting for the evaluation to be finished is the worst thing. They sit in the waiting room of the clinic, painfully aware of the fact that the doctors think they've done something horrible to their own son. It's humiliating in a way, but they're doing it for him and when, after an excruciating number of hours, the doctors bring Franken back to his parents and admit defeat, Frank and Ann have never been so relieved. There's nothing wrong with their son. He's delicate and has trouble adjusting socially, but it'll be all right. They stop and buy him an ice cream on the way home.
At nine:
Franken is in his third elementary school. This time Frank and Ann go to the administration beforehand and warn them of Franken's delicacies; to their relief, the teacher he's been assigned to is willing to work with them and assures them at various points throughout the school year that Franken's classroom behavior is improving. Parents still call them at home to complain that Franken has terrorized their children. Frank takes the calls and assures them that he's being disciplined at home, then turns around and sends Franken to his room to calm down. They've tried other punishments, but cool-down time in a dark room remains the most effective. Once, Frank catches Franken after he's cornered a stray cat, killed it and begun to dissect it. He gently pulls him away, stunned by the image in front of him, and is cognizant enough to take the knife away from his nine-year-old as Franken earnestly begins explaining how the inside of a cat works. Franken is banished to his room for a good two hours that night, but his parents make sure to come get him for dinner. They love him and they don't believe in excessive punishment.
At ten:
Frank and Ann are contacted by the DWMA; they're told that Franken's school sent them a packet of information on the boy and the DWMA is interested in having Franken take the entrance exam to the school early. They know the DWMA is somewhat militaristic, and after a long discussion they decide it might be good for him, and they give their consent.
Soon after, they find themselves the parents of the youngest student to ever be admitted to the academy. When it's time for him to move out of the house, Ann can't stop crying and even Frank suffers a little coughing fit to cover up his suddenly watering eyes. They send him off with hugs and kisses and tousled hair that he still tolerates from them and them alone, and when he's gone they realize that the house feels terribly empty.
At twelve:
Franken is flourishing at the DWMA. Frank and Ann miss him dearly, but he calls twice a week and tells them what he's up to in that flat, ever unconcerned voice that he's famous for. He finally brings his weapon partner home for a holiday, and while Frank and Ann are taken by the charming redhead and grateful that he takes such good care of their son, it stings a little to see Franken accept from him the little touches and gestures that he used to only allow if they came from his parents.
At fifteen:
Frank practically bursts with pride when Franken announces he has a girlfriend. It seems that their little boy is finally growing up, and Frank uses their biweekly phone conversations to impart dating advice that Franken hardly understands how to use.
At seventeen:
Franken is galloping through the premed program at a prestigious university; he only calls his parents once a week, now, but they're no less proud of him. Frank gushes to the other neighborhood parents, most of whose children are still languishing in various high schools, about Franken's success while Ann works on a scrapbook of his achievements and pretends she doesn't know that all the neighbors really think about Franken is that they're grateful he's not around to vivisect their pets and harass their children anymore.
At twenty:
Franken is in med school, where the students are disturbed by his various medical passions and the professors gush about the places he'll go. The word "genius" is bandied about over his head, and Frank and Ann sometimes have to call him if they want their weekly conversation. Franken is still as distant as he's always been with other people, but he doesn't mind telling his parents what he's been up to. They cherish that fact.
At twenty-four:
Franken calls them from the hospital, voice slightly slurred and in distress. They want to take it out, he says, please don't let them. Frank waits patiently for him to hand the phone to a doctor and tells them to wait until he can get there. He and Ann drive all night and when they arrive they discover that Franken has put a screw through his own brain. Ann steps out of his room so she can have a good cry and Frank puts a hand on his son's head to ask why.
He never gets an answer, but eventually the doctors decide that less damage will be done with the screw left where it is, and Franken is declared to be as healthy as he'll ever be and is discharged. Frank and Ann spend the night in his new laboratory on the outskirts of Death City, and they wish it felt more like a home and less like a hospital.
At thirty:
Franken calls them once a month, if they're lucky. There are a few months in which they don't hear from him at all, and just when Frank is contemplating heading out to Nevada to check on him the phone rings. It's Franken. He apologizes for going so long without contact, and at the end of the conversation he tells his father that he loves him without being prompted. Ann is terribly confused when she arrives home from the grocer's to find her husband crying at the kitchen table, but she takes it in stride; after all, she's always suspected that Franken inherited his delicate nature from his father.
Their home, no longer new but still as comfortable as ever, is a shrine to their son and the love they have for him. The walls are covered in pictures of him from infancy on, and their pride and joy is the mantlepiece in the living room where they've always displayed the most recent picture of him. At the moment it's a portrait that's a few years old, from Franken's last visit home. He's smiling, one hand on his screw, with Frank on one side of him and Ann on the other. As they tell guests to their home, it's an appropriate display, because Franken has always been the center of their lives. And he always will be.
They take him home, and now they're Frank and Ann plus one. The name Franken is mostly Frank's idea--Junior is downright over-used, he assures Ann--though even she has to agree that "Franken Stein" has a good rhythm to it. He's a quiet infant, and they quickly discover that he prefers darker colors and quiet toys over the many bright and flashing baby toys they've acquired over the course of Ann's pregnancy. They decide it's a delightful quirk and lavish him with all the attention that parents of an only child can give, and it's not a surprise; the two of them were totally enamored of him from the moment the attending nurse first placed him in his mother's arms.
At two years:
Franken's walking with confidence and beginning to say real words, and they've never been more delighted. Frank beams and Ann covers her mouth in delight every time he says "mama" or "papa". He's still as good-natured as the day they brought him home from the hospital and he's not a picky eater--other young parents in the neighborhood don't hesitate to tell Frank and Ann how lucky they are to have him and the two of them never hesitate to agree. Ann sits him in her lap and reads him story after story, and when she's done Frank gets down in the floor with him and teaches him how to build houses and schools and skyscrapers with wooden blocks. They're convinced they've got the best toddler in the world.
At three and a half:
Franken has his first tantrum, and it's spectacular if only in how badly it surprises his parents; later they'll suppose that he must have been frustrated at himself, but at the time it alarms them both to see him shriek and fling a toy across the living room, seemingly apropos of nothing, and they both nearly wipe out in the rush to get to him when he starts pulling his own hair with a thundercloud expression on his face. Frank gets to him first, and chooses to deal with the situation by picking him up and carrying to his bedroom where they sit in a rocking chair in the dark until Franken calms down. It's a lucky coincidence--the urgency that leads Frank to sit down without bothering to turn the light on first--that shows them the best way to deal with the son they're just now beginning to realize they don't fully understand.
At five:
The complaints start coming after his very first day in kindergarten. He's unusually violent towards the other children, the teacher's note says, and doesn't respect authority. Frank and Ann aren't sure what to think; Franken, after he delivers the note the school sent home with him, stands in the kitchen and pulls his own hair. Frank tells him to go to his room, and when he slips into the hallway a few minutes later to check on him the door is closed and the light is off, but Frank knows his son isn't trying to sleep. He goes back into the kitchen and wonders, for the first time, if there's something more to his boy than just being delicate.
At six:
The school refuses to take Franken back for his second year. Frank and Ann go to the school in person, not for the first time, to speak with the principal--he tells them that until Franken's had a full psychiatric evaluation he'll be recommending him to a state disciplinary school instead. Frank and Ann feel like they have no choice, like they've been bullied into it, but in the end they arrange an appointment at a local clinic for their son. A whole year of insisting that Franken is well-behaved at home, that the teachers just don't want to learn how to handle him, that if they would just make a quiet, dark place for him to calm down when he was upset his behavior would improve has gotten them nowhere with the school administration.
Waiting for the evaluation to be finished is the worst thing. They sit in the waiting room of the clinic, painfully aware of the fact that the doctors think they've done something horrible to their own son. It's humiliating in a way, but they're doing it for him and when, after an excruciating number of hours, the doctors bring Franken back to his parents and admit defeat, Frank and Ann have never been so relieved. There's nothing wrong with their son. He's delicate and has trouble adjusting socially, but it'll be all right. They stop and buy him an ice cream on the way home.
At nine:
Franken is in his third elementary school. This time Frank and Ann go to the administration beforehand and warn them of Franken's delicacies; to their relief, the teacher he's been assigned to is willing to work with them and assures them at various points throughout the school year that Franken's classroom behavior is improving. Parents still call them at home to complain that Franken has terrorized their children. Frank takes the calls and assures them that he's being disciplined at home, then turns around and sends Franken to his room to calm down. They've tried other punishments, but cool-down time in a dark room remains the most effective. Once, Frank catches Franken after he's cornered a stray cat, killed it and begun to dissect it. He gently pulls him away, stunned by the image in front of him, and is cognizant enough to take the knife away from his nine-year-old as Franken earnestly begins explaining how the inside of a cat works. Franken is banished to his room for a good two hours that night, but his parents make sure to come get him for dinner. They love him and they don't believe in excessive punishment.
At ten:
Frank and Ann are contacted by the DWMA; they're told that Franken's school sent them a packet of information on the boy and the DWMA is interested in having Franken take the entrance exam to the school early. They know the DWMA is somewhat militaristic, and after a long discussion they decide it might be good for him, and they give their consent.
Soon after, they find themselves the parents of the youngest student to ever be admitted to the academy. When it's time for him to move out of the house, Ann can't stop crying and even Frank suffers a little coughing fit to cover up his suddenly watering eyes. They send him off with hugs and kisses and tousled hair that he still tolerates from them and them alone, and when he's gone they realize that the house feels terribly empty.
At twelve:
Franken is flourishing at the DWMA. Frank and Ann miss him dearly, but he calls twice a week and tells them what he's up to in that flat, ever unconcerned voice that he's famous for. He finally brings his weapon partner home for a holiday, and while Frank and Ann are taken by the charming redhead and grateful that he takes such good care of their son, it stings a little to see Franken accept from him the little touches and gestures that he used to only allow if they came from his parents.
At fifteen:
Frank practically bursts with pride when Franken announces he has a girlfriend. It seems that their little boy is finally growing up, and Frank uses their biweekly phone conversations to impart dating advice that Franken hardly understands how to use.
At seventeen:
Franken is galloping through the premed program at a prestigious university; he only calls his parents once a week, now, but they're no less proud of him. Frank gushes to the other neighborhood parents, most of whose children are still languishing in various high schools, about Franken's success while Ann works on a scrapbook of his achievements and pretends she doesn't know that all the neighbors really think about Franken is that they're grateful he's not around to vivisect their pets and harass their children anymore.
At twenty:
Franken is in med school, where the students are disturbed by his various medical passions and the professors gush about the places he'll go. The word "genius" is bandied about over his head, and Frank and Ann sometimes have to call him if they want their weekly conversation. Franken is still as distant as he's always been with other people, but he doesn't mind telling his parents what he's been up to. They cherish that fact.
At twenty-four:
Franken calls them from the hospital, voice slightly slurred and in distress. They want to take it out, he says, please don't let them. Frank waits patiently for him to hand the phone to a doctor and tells them to wait until he can get there. He and Ann drive all night and when they arrive they discover that Franken has put a screw through his own brain. Ann steps out of his room so she can have a good cry and Frank puts a hand on his son's head to ask why.
He never gets an answer, but eventually the doctors decide that less damage will be done with the screw left where it is, and Franken is declared to be as healthy as he'll ever be and is discharged. Frank and Ann spend the night in his new laboratory on the outskirts of Death City, and they wish it felt more like a home and less like a hospital.
At thirty:
Franken calls them once a month, if they're lucky. There are a few months in which they don't hear from him at all, and just when Frank is contemplating heading out to Nevada to check on him the phone rings. It's Franken. He apologizes for going so long without contact, and at the end of the conversation he tells his father that he loves him without being prompted. Ann is terribly confused when she arrives home from the grocer's to find her husband crying at the kitchen table, but she takes it in stride; after all, she's always suspected that Franken inherited his delicate nature from his father.
Their home, no longer new but still as comfortable as ever, is a shrine to their son and the love they have for him. The walls are covered in pictures of him from infancy on, and their pride and joy is the mantlepiece in the living room where they've always displayed the most recent picture of him. At the moment it's a portrait that's a few years old, from Franken's last visit home. He's smiling, one hand on his screw, with Frank on one side of him and Ann on the other. As they tell guests to their home, it's an appropriate display, because Franken has always been the center of their lives. And he always will be.