Prompt: For the stars that night, what about something with Jack and his dad? His dad seems like a mean guy but what was he like with Jack as a child? Did he care for Jack at all?
A.N.- So when Jack was as young as he is in this prompt, he didn't have his nickname yet, and still went by Chester!
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Six year old Chester Waymire picked up a packet of snappers and studied them curiously. He reached in and took one out of the bag, testing it in his hands.
He grinned to himself and threw it at the ground, letting out a triumphant noise as it hit the ground and popped off. He threw another, eyes widening in excitement as it popped.
But then he bedroom door was flung open. Paul Waymire glared at his young son.
"But..." Chester said, holding up the bag. "Daddy, I wanna play with them." Paul tilted his head and Chester frowned. "Please?" Paul glared, and Chester pouted. "Daddy, please."
Paul held his hand out. Chester got up and went over, taking his dad's hand, gripping his poppers in his other hand.
Paul walked Chester out to the backyard, lifting him up and sitting him down in a chair. He took the poppers from Chester and took one out of the bag. He looked at Ray Edmon's yard and whipped a popper at it, watching the smoke rise up from the grass as it landed it with the promised pop.
Chester clapped, giggling. Paul did it again, encouraged by Chester's wide smile.
"Lemme try," Chester said, getting up and holding his hand out.
Paul set a popper in it, and Chester threw it at Ray's yard, eyes lighting up as it went off. Paul put a hand on his shoulder.
"Daddy, can I try the bigger ones?" Chester said.
Paul shrugged and sat Chester back down before disappearing into the garage. He came back out with a box of little fireworks. He knew Chester loved playing with them, so he stocked up around the Fourth of July.
He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and dug through the box. Chester reached for the lighter, but Paul held it away from him, shooting him a stern look.
Paul set up a small firework and aimed it to the other side of the lawn. He didn't want Ray to come out and ruin his time with Chester.
Paul held out his hand and Chester held it as Paul lit the firework. It went off, shooting out and setting off a small burst of color before falling to the ground.
"My turn?" Chester said, his eyes hopeful and eager.
"No lighter," Paul said, and nodded to the box.
Chester dug through and picked out a firework, setting it up. Paul turned it so it'd hit the other side of the lawn. Chester held his hand out expectantly for the lighter.
"It's no fun if you do it," he said, pouting at his father. "Please?"
Paul reluctantly put the lighter in Chester's hands. He carefully curled Chester's fingers around it and guided his hand to the fuse, nodding at him.
Chester flicked the flame into life, laughing as it lit the fuse. The firework went off, exploding in the air, small by comparison to what he saw at the town's celebratory displays, but fascinating all the same.
"Daddy, did you see that? Did you see it? I did it!" Chester said in excitement.
Paul pulled him close, hugging his son to his side. He offered Chester a rare smile, and Chester pointed at the box again. Paul nodded.
Chester dug out another firework and set it up. Paul wrapped his fingers around the lighter again, but in his excitement, Chester's finger slipped as he flicked the flame, and the heat of it licked up his finger.
"Ow!" Chester cried, throwing the lighter and cradling his hand to his chest. Tears welled in his eyes. "Ow, that hurt!"
Paul pulled Chester into his lap, taking his finger and inspecting it. It wasn't a bad burn, just something light that would fade within the hour. Paul held Chester's finger to his lips and lightly blew on it.
"Better?" he asked.
Chester nodded and sniffled. Paul continued to blow on Chester's finger until Chester's tears dried up.
He kissed Chester's finger and stood up with Chester in his arms, rocking him as Chester wiped his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Paul's neck.
"That hurt," he whimpered.
"No lighter anymore," Paul said, carrying him back to the house.
"I wanted to keep playing," Chester muttered sadly.
Paul set his son down on the couch and grabbed his laptop. He sat next to Chester and searched the internet until he found a video of a spectacular firework display. He held Chester close as he watched the show, eyes wide.
"I wanna make one like that," Chester said, pointing at the screen.
"Someday," Paul assured. He pulled Chester back into his lap, keeping an arm around the little boy as he watched the firework display.
"Can we try again, daddy? Tomorrow?" Chester said.
Paul glanced at his injured finger and hesitated. But then he looked at Chester's eager face, and gave a nod.
"No lighter," he repeated, this time much sterner.
Chester looked at his finger. "Uh-huh. Promise you'll play with me and not work all day?"
"I'll work after you go to bed," Paul promised. He had a lot to get done but...Chester just looked so excited. He couldn't just say no.
"Thanks, dad," Chester said, hugging him and beaming a smile up at him.
Paul hugged him close, and kissed his head. Chester curled against him, eyes back on the screen as Paul found another video for them to watch. It was almost Chester's bedtime, but Paul supposed he could let him stay up late tonight, if that was what Chester wanted. Anything Chester wanted.
