Pazuzu squirms just like Tycho used to the first few times I hugged him, and I could almost laugh. Oh, barely, just a stiffening of the muscles in his back and the slightest hint of instinctive avoidance before he returns the gesture, and that relieved sigh of his as I let go has me grinning. There's a reason I kept the embrace brief; the kind of casual physical affection my family shares so easily isn't something he's accustomed to just yet. Which just makes me appreciate his efforts at adjusting even more.
Ohhh the last thing I had to say does not sit well with him. I can feel the rage my words stir up, hints of offended indignation simmering underneath a roaring inferno of fury. Good. When he finally turns to face me, I meet his gaze dead on, my expression just as serious and determined as his. “Good man. I would have killed to hear that from her mother, would have torn my heart out and laid it at her feet if it would have made her see...” That we were worth fighting for. That she was worth fighting for. “Ha, or torn out someone else's, otherwise what would have been the point?”
The quip falls a little flat as old sorrow wells up again, and I look away, riding out the ache in my chest and the tightness in my throat. It'll pass. It always does. She gave me everything she had to give, loved me the best way she knew how. And I still wouldn't trade a single day of our time together. Hell, I'd have begged for more, even knowing the pain would be worse. I pull in a deep breath, let it out just as slowly, and ignore the way it shakes just a little. Fuck, that doesn't happen very often anymore and I wasn't expecting it this time.
“Good,” I say, when I know my voice will be steady instead of trembling. “And yeah, I'll do my damnedest to be there for them, to watch out for them, to keep them safe. Of course I will. But I won't always succeed. I won't always be able to be there, and I won't always be able to help them pick up the pieces. Hell, and even when I'm able sometimes they won't let me. Part of being a parent.” I snort. If he hasn't already learned that with Tycho I'm sure he will before long. And I've had just the quietest little dreams in the midst of the darkness that suggest maybe Tycho isn't the only one.
“But it's not the same.” Or at least I assume. My parents weren't exactly the greatest at sticking around. Really, though, I had Kagerou. She was more of a mother to me than anyone else, blood or no. She found me after I was raped, held me and let me fall apart in a way I couldn't with Nocturnal. My pain hurt Noct too much for me to pour it out at her feet like that, to sob incoherently, to shake and scream and let her see how being touched by anyone made my skin crawl. How scarred I was for years. How our first time together I couldn't bear to be female, couldn't bear to be that vulnerable even with her, even a year later. I never said the words, buried the flashes of his face, his touch—my skin twitches, trying to dislodge the train of thought like I would a fly.
So many words I never said. And none of them would have changed anything.
“Yeah, sometimes she'll need me to help her in ways only I can. And I will do everything in my power to be there when she does. But being able to turn to her mom when she's hurting or when life fucks her up is not the same at all. You're the man she loves. The father of her children. The person she's making a life with. I just...needed to know. That you're not fucking going anywhere.” Something settles in my chest, and the restless wariness fades. So something is coming. Let it come, then. We'll be ready.
Ohhh the last thing I had to say does not sit well with him. I can feel the rage my words stir up, hints of offended indignation simmering underneath a roaring inferno of fury. Good. When he finally turns to face me, I meet his gaze dead on, my expression just as serious and determined as his. “Good man. I would have killed to hear that from her mother, would have torn my heart out and laid it at her feet if it would have made her see...” That we were worth fighting for. That she was worth fighting for. “Ha, or torn out someone else's, otherwise what would have been the point?”
The quip falls a little flat as old sorrow wells up again, and I look away, riding out the ache in my chest and the tightness in my throat. It'll pass. It always does. She gave me everything she had to give, loved me the best way she knew how. And I still wouldn't trade a single day of our time together. Hell, I'd have begged for more, even knowing the pain would be worse. I pull in a deep breath, let it out just as slowly, and ignore the way it shakes just a little. Fuck, that doesn't happen very often anymore and I wasn't expecting it this time.
“Good,” I say, when I know my voice will be steady instead of trembling. “And yeah, I'll do my damnedest to be there for them, to watch out for them, to keep them safe. Of course I will. But I won't always succeed. I won't always be able to be there, and I won't always be able to help them pick up the pieces. Hell, and even when I'm able sometimes they won't let me. Part of being a parent.” I snort. If he hasn't already learned that with Tycho I'm sure he will before long. And I've had just the quietest little dreams in the midst of the darkness that suggest maybe Tycho isn't the only one.
“But it's not the same.” Or at least I assume. My parents weren't exactly the greatest at sticking around. Really, though, I had Kagerou. She was more of a mother to me than anyone else, blood or no. She found me after I was raped, held me and let me fall apart in a way I couldn't with Nocturnal. My pain hurt Noct too much for me to pour it out at her feet like that, to sob incoherently, to shake and scream and let her see how being touched by anyone made my skin crawl. How scarred I was for years. How our first time together I couldn't bear to be female, couldn't bear to be that vulnerable even with her, even a year later. I never said the words, buried the flashes of his face, his touch—my skin twitches, trying to dislodge the train of thought like I would a fly.
So many words I never said. And none of them would have changed anything.
“Yeah, sometimes she'll need me to help her in ways only I can. And I will do everything in my power to be there when she does. But being able to turn to her mom when she's hurting or when life fucks her up is not the same at all. You're the man she loves. The father of her children. The person she's making a life with. I just...needed to know. That you're not fucking going anywhere.” Something settles in my chest, and the restless wariness fades. So something is coming. Let it come, then. We'll be ready.