Mending the Mechanic's Heart

A Father's Quiet Strength

Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of Pon's small apartment, casting a warm glow over the room. The gentle hum of the city outside provided a soothing backdrop, but inside the quiet sanctuary of his home, the world seemed to stand still.

Pon slowly stirred from sleep, his body protesting with every movement. The events of the previous day had left him sore, bruised, and emotionally drained. Yet, as his eyes fluttered open, his first thought wasn't of his injuries—it was of Aon.

His baby boy, the light of his life, was sleeping peacefully in the crib beside his bed. Aon's tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, his cherubic face framed by wisps of soft black hair. Pon's heart swelled with a mix of love and protectiveness. No matter how hard things got, Aon was his reason for pushing forward.

Carefully, Pon sat up, wincing as his sore muscles protested the movement. He glanced at the clock; it was still early, but Aon would likely wake soon. Pon needed to be up and ready for him, no matter how exhausted he felt.

Ignoring the dull ache in his ribs, Pon slowly got out of bed, his movements deliberate and cautious. He took a moment to stretch, grimacing slightly as his body reminded him of the previous day's ordeal. But there was no time to dwell on that now—Aon needed him.

Pon moved quietly through the small apartment, making his way to the kitchen. He prepared Aon's morning bottle, his hands moving with practiced ease. Despite everything that had happened, the routine tasks of caring for his son brought Pon a sense of normalcy and peace.

As he warmed the bottle, Pon's thoughts drifted back to the previous night. The worry in Pooh's eyes, the quiet strength in Sailub's presence, Nut's unexpected concern—it all lingered in his mind. For so long, he had tried to handle everything on his own, but maybe it was okay to let others in, to let them help him carry the weight.

A soft whimper from the bedroom pulled Pon from his thoughts. Aon was waking up.

Pon quickly finished preparing the bottle and returned to the bedroom. Aon was stirring, his tiny fists rubbing at his sleepy eyes. The sight made Pon's heart melt, and despite the pain and exhaustion, a smile tugged at his lips.

"Morning, little one," Pon whispered as he leaned down to scoop Aon into his arms. The baby nuzzled against his chest, seeking comfort and warmth.

Pon held Aon close, feeling the steady rhythm of his son's heartbeat against his own. This was what mattered—this quiet, tender moment between father and son. All the pain, all the challenges, faded away when he was with Aon.

Settling into a nearby chair, Pon gently rocked Aon while feeding him the bottle. The baby's big, dark eyes gazed up at Pon with trust and adoration, and Pon couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and responsibility. Aon depended on him, and Pon would do everything in his power to give his son the best life possible.

As Aon drank his bottle, Pon hummed softly, a lullaby that had been sung to him by his own mother when he was a child. The melody was simple, but it carried a weight of love and tradition. Aon's eyes slowly began to droop, lulled by the soothing sound and the warmth of his father's embrace.

Once Aon had finished his bottle, Pon carefully burped him, all the while keeping up the soft humming. Aon's tiny fingers clutched at Pon's shirt, and Pon felt a pang of tenderness. This little life in his arms was his entire world.

When Aon finally drifted back to sleep, Pon cradled him for a while longer, savoring the moment. It was in these quiet, still moments that Pon found his strength. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew he could face them as long as he had Aon.

Eventually, Pon gently placed Aon back in his crib, tucking him in with a soft blanket. He watched his son sleep for a moment, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. Aon was his anchor, the reason he kept going, no matter how tough things got.

As he turned away from the crib, Pon felt a sharp twinge in his side. The bruises from the day before were a painful reminder of the harsh reality he faced. But despite the pain, Pon knew he had to keep moving forward—not just for himself, but for Aon.

Pon moved back to the kitchen, preparing a simple breakfast for himself. His mind wandered to the garage, to the work that awaited him. He wasn't sure what would happen next—whether Dean and his group would escalate their harassment or if Sailub would step in. But whatever happened, Pon knew he had to stay strong, for Aon's sake.

As he ate, Pon's phone buzzed with a message from Pooh. The text was short but filled with concern, asking how Pon was feeling and if he needed anything. Pon smiled at his brother's worry, typing back a reassuring reply that he was fine, just a bit sore.

After finishing breakfast, Pon cleaned up and took a quick shower, careful not to aggravate his injuries. The warm water helped soothe some of the tension in his muscles, and by the time he was dressed and ready for the day, he felt a little more like himself.

He returned to the bedroom to check on Aon, who was still sleeping soundly. Pon sat by the crib, watching his son with a soft smile. The world outside could be harsh and unforgiving, but in this small apartment, Pon had created a haven of love and safety for his child.

And as long as he had Aon, Pon knew he could face anything.

The day ahead would be challenging—there was work to be done, and the tension at the garage was far from resolved. But with Aon by his side, Pon felt ready to take on whatever came his way.

After all, he wasn't just fighting for himself anymore. He was fighting for his son, for their future. And that gave him all the strength he needed.