fictide

[fictide]

St. Christopher - Omegaverse + kid!Nick

Somewhere in the bonus features for Hot Fuzz, we learn that Nicholas’ necklace is a medallion of St. Christopher, “probably given to him by his mother.”

"Did I ever tell you about Saint Christopher, Nicky?"

"Mm-mm, Mum. Who is that?"

Little Nicholas gripped the knee of his mother's skirt and looked up at her with his stormy blue eyes, so intense for a boy his age. Mrs Eliza Angel smoothed her fingers through her son's smooth blond locks.

"Saint Christopher was a very kind man. He performed an act of kindness purely out of the good of his heart, and for that we celebrate him."

"We do?"

"Yes, love."

"He's good like Uncle Derek?"

Eliza paused. She really didn't approve of Nicholas' fixation on her husband's brother, but she supposed if Nicky was going to idolize anyone, a policeman might be a good man to look up to. Shifty behaviour aside.

"Rather like Uncle Derek I suppose. He carried a little child across the river who was all alone that he didn't even know. Who d'you think that child was, darling?"

"Mmm," Nicholas kneaded at her skirt, distracted and tactile. Doctors were saying that they could tell much earlier on now what a child might present as, just by their behavior. She didn't believe in that sort of thing. The Lord was in charge of that.

"Who did Saint Christopher carry across the river, Nicky?" She leaned down and brought her boy up into her lap, settling him down.

"Baby Jesus?" Eliza smiled.

"It was Christ, darling."

"What was he, mum?"

"Hm?"

"Sand Chris'pher."

"Saint Christopher? He became a Saint, dear, for his good, righteous behavior."

"Yea, but what /was/ he?"

Ah. Eliza scratched behind her ear.

"Nobody knows for sure, but lots of people believe Saint Christopher was an omega."

"Why?"

"Well, because people like to see themselves in great stories, don't they? In great people?"

"Mmm." Nicholas was playing with her pendant, as he was oft found doing. He avoided her gaze as he spoke. "Eric Barnes says megas stay in the house with puppies and they can't come to school."

"He said that to you?"

Nicholas shrugged.

"Honey, did you tell your teacher?"

"Teacher believes him."

Eliza felt like she'd been struck across the face. It appeared she'd have to approach the school administration. Again.

"Darling, that's not true."

"Mmm."

"Nicky, baby, look at me."

Little Nicholas kept the Saint Christopher medallion locked tightly in his fist, but he looked up at his mother just the same.

"Omegas can be whatever they want to be," she told him, not for the first time. She would not have her son be taught prejudice behind her back. "Saint Christopher was an omega and he became one of Christ's disciples, didn't he? A Patron Saint of travel."

"What's a Patron sand?"

"It's when they're put in charge of something. Here, darling." Eliza reached back and pulled her pendant off over her head. Nicholas made a quiet noise of protest, reaching up for it even as she lowered it back down within his reach.

"I'm going to give you this, okay, darling? It's Saint Christopher, see? So long as you have this with you, you'll never be lost. He'll protect you on your travels." Nick gasped quietly and reached for the pendant again, but Eliza raised it up.

"One more thing. Darling, sweet. If I give you this, you have to promise me."

"Whatsit, Mummy?"

"So long as you wear this, I want you to be kind to omegas. Be kind to everyone. Omegas are no less human than Alphas, or Betas. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"Promise me, darling."

"I pwomise I be nice to omegas."

"Because?"

"Cebause they're not less of people."

She could tell her son was being earnest, and so she lowered the medallion with a soft smile. Nicholas hummed and held it between his little fingers, turning it and watching it sparkle silver in the dim light of their living room.

#kid!nick angel #nicholas angel #hot fuzz fic #omegaverse #abo dynamics #eliza angel #my post #eventual angelbutter #the magnum opus #saint christopher #st christopher

[fictide]

Social Graces - kid!Nick Angel

Nicholas hugged Mum’s throw pillow closer to his chest, his mouth and nose pressed up against the musty fabric. His feet still didn’t touch the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch, but now wasn’t the time to swing his feet.

All he’d said was, “Of course it’s sad, somebody died,” and now Auntie Meredith wouldn’t talk to him. Didn’t she know that’s why everyone was here? Grandpa Arnold was a wonderful man, even if he’d always smelled like cigar smoke. He gave Nicholas big, heavy books to read, and took him to museums, and called him “old boy.” He was nice. But now he was gone. Was Nicholas the only one who knew about it?

“Nicky,” his Mum cooed. She walked over from the kitchen doorway and sat beside him on the old couch. Nick buried his face deeper into his cushion, sank back deeper into the worn pillows behind him. He was tempted to bring his legs up, but only little kids did that. Nick’s not little.

“Why are you hiding in here?” she asks.

“M’not hiding, it’s a public place.”

“Everybody else is in the kitchen.” She reaches over and takes his pillow gently from him, setting it down in his lap instead. She probably thought he’d been chewing on it, come to think of it, but Nicholas had stopped doing that as soon as she’d told him to. His pencils were worse for wear, now, though.

“Auntie M. is cross with me,” Nick told her. “I think I said something wrong again.”

“How do you mean?” Mummy’s eyebrows drew closer together, like she was cross. But she didn’t speak angrily at him, and so she must not be.

“I told her somebody had died, because she told Mr. Richard this all is sad. Of course, it’s sad. I thought she didn’t know what had happened, because of how she said it. But she gave me this mean look and walked away fast...” Nicholas sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Big boys did not cry, and neither did policemen.

“Nicky,” Mummy started, in that coddling way of hers. “It’s how she wanted to express her feelings. Auntie M. absolutely knows why we’re all here. Why don’t you go and have one of the biiscuits Mrs. Richard brought? It’s alright. I’ll speak with your aunt. Go on.”

He didn’t really feel better, but there had been a lot of biscuits on the counter. Maybe they weren’t tasty, but everybody else knew better than to say so. Maybe they all knew better than Nicholas.

#asd #autism headcanons #nicholas angel #nick angel #kid!nick angel #hot fuzz au #hot fuzz #au #kid fic #neurodivergent #my post #hot fuzz fic #elizabeth angel #eliza angel #edgar wright #simon pegg #nick frost