meadowlarklogs

[It's odd, how good he is at getting her to settle. As soon as he pulls her close she feels some of her tension drain away, and she relaxes against him. Her magic is still a fraught topic, and she knows he thinks she just needs to find something else, but this approach is comforting.

Maybe he can't really get it the way Nathan can, just like she can't really get what it was like having his world irreparably torn apart, but she can try to get him a little closer.]

Okay. What do you want to know?

[ He hums out a thoughtful noise, dragging his hand up and down her bicep in a way that's meant to be comforting. ]

How'd you get started? How'd you learn?

[Oh, right. That.

Kyna presses a little closer, totally unaware she's doing it.]

My dad. His side of the family's always been... You know. Super talented, super respected, all mages. When my brother was born and couldn't do magic at all, he was pissed.

[A little bit of bitterness slips into her voice, prodding at that old wound. She and Nico have always been so protective of each other that it's impossible for her not to get upset on his behalf, even all this time later.]

When he figured out I could, he went all in.

[ Burrow on in, Kyna, he'll just keep doing that soothing wild-horse style petting. ]

Your dad sounds like an asshole.

[ Bluntly, because that's the only real way to frame it. ]

It's not like your brother got to pick. Aren't fathers supposed to be, I don't know, unconditional?

[ He's never had one, couldn't tell you. ]

[The petting helps. She lets out a little scoff at his observation, reaching over to pick absently at a loose thread on his jeans.]

Yeah. He's a total asshole. So's most of his family. They didn't think my mom was good enough.

["Slumming it" was a phrase Kyna's heard more than once. Honestly, most of this isn't too awful to talk about when they're staying away from discussing the emotions of it.]

Anyway, eventually he got bored and fucked off and then I mostly taught myself.

[ His lips twist downward, affronted on her mother's behalf despite having no knowledge or context about the woman. It's immediate and subconscious, a product of his relationship with his own mother. The lingering threads of loyalty left behind despite his broken heart and his resentment over what he's perceived as betrayal.

He exhales contemplatively, looking for the right words, the right approach. Gentle and understanding, supportive but not disrespectful. ]

You deserved better than him anyway. Sounds like your mom and your brother did, too. I don't know much about fathers other than the fact that they're unnecessary. You can be strong without them — or to spite them, even.

[It's nice to hear, sure, but she's heard it before, and she never knows quite how to respond to it. Actually, it means a little more that he's offended for them.]

I know that I don't need him. I guess it's... I don't know.

[Not the point, but she doesn't know how to explain it.]

[ He could keep offering surface level platitudes, or he could give away a piece of himself.

Really relate, in a way that might be telling.

There's a long pause before he speaks again. ]

It's that he left. That he didn't think you were worth sticking around for.

[ Right? ]

[Kyna doesn't flinch, but she does tense in a way that seems like the same thing. That's exactly what it is, and having him lay it out so succinctly makes something in her chest twist. She has to fight the instinct to pull away and shut down the conversation, so for a moment, she seems inordinately focused on that loose thread she's playing with.]

Yeah. I guess.

[ He feels the tension, and it aches in the back of his throat. An old wound he doesn't acknowledge that he carries, even though an extremely distant and logical piece of his mind knows. Instinctively, despite his refusal to think of the issue in so many words, he knows.

He just ignores it.

Like recognizes like. ]

Yeah.

[ He murmurs quietly, and the urge to say me, too sits fat and heavy on his tongue.

Can't seem to force it out. ]

[He usually knows exactly what to say, so the sudden silence jostles her out of her own melancholy, enough to look up at him. She's not sure if she's screwed this up by shutting down, or if it's something else. For a fleeting second, she has the urge to reach for his hand, wanting the certainty of the empathy bond, but that old anxiety stops her.]

Sorry, I'm...

[Kyna shifts, sitting up a bit straighter, pressing closer into his side.]

I'm bad at talking about this shit sometimes.

[ He scoffs instantly. ]

Pff, I'm not. I navigate complex emotional issues and my lingering baggage with the grace of a fuckin' dolphin.

[

He's just saying he gets it. Don't apologize. ]

[She scoffs, lips quirking up into the start of a smile.]

Shut up.

[And then, softer and more honestly:]

You're right. It sucks.

[ Maybe it's the little break that helps the words flow easier, because after a beat he manages to admit his own shit. ]

I never knew mine.

[ Just. So you know why he knows. ]

Think my mom had some ideas, but she never told me.

Oh.

[So that's why he'd gotten so quiet.

Kyna can't help but wonder if that's worse, not knowing at all. At least she knows how much of a dick her father is. In some ways, it tempers the loss. If she'd never known him at all, would she have built him up as some sort of perfect father?]

Did you want to know? Or did you just... you know.

[ The quiet stretches out for a long and contemplative second. A muscle in Ian's jaw twitches, back teeth set, searching for a version of the truth his pride will accept. ]

It doesn't matter. Did just fine without him.

[ Which is... maybe entirely too simple, transparently hiding more complex feelings, so he'll concede a little. ]

I did when I was a kid. Gave up on caring in my teens.

[Kyna's mouth twists at that, and she can't help but sound skeptical when she responds.]

You did?

Yeah.

[ An immediate answer, and maybe a touch defiant.

That's what he wants to believe. What he spitefully believes. The truth he acknowledges, while refusing to examine the issue any deeper for how it might be playing out in his life. ]

[The insistence makes her believe it less. It sounds too much like the tack she takes when she sick of the pity and just wants to shut a conversation down.]

It must've been... really hard, though. Without both of your parents.

[ He shakes his head a little. ]

I had my mom, most of the time.

[ That's an overstatement. He had her like a fourth of the time at best. ]

She only went around grad school.

[ Wait, did he tell Kyna about that already or did he just tip his hand on accident? Shit. ]

[He tipped his hand a little.]

What happened?

[It just pops out, and she winces at herself.]

Sorry, I mean... You don't have to tell me. Only if you want to.

[ He licks his lips, hesitates. Contemplates not for the first time how much of himself he wants to give away, how much he wants to dig into. He hasn't touched a lot of this shit since it happened, it's just been... there, under the surface, a splinter that's been covered by layers and layers of skin. ]

She, um. She was a smoker. So.

[ It's a tale as old as time. The oldest cliche in the book. ]

Lung cancer.

[ And he watched her go, slowly, for months. She seemed tired the whole time. Resigned.

And the fucked up thing is-- he breathes out a soft and humorless laugh. ]

She didn't quit smoking right up through the end.

[ It feels like she didn't even try, and he takes it so personally it aches. She couldn't have just tried for him, and though they didn't have the insurance for it, though they didn't have a chance in hell, he still resents the fact that smoking kept her off the potential donors list for a transplant.

But he's trying not to think about it, and about how angry he still is. ]

[She's stunned silent by it, shock and overwhelming sympathy making her stumble over what the hell to say. She doesn't need the empathy bond to guess how that felt, knowing your parent wouldn't even try to fight, and sure, she has no real proof Ian felt that way, but she would, and something in the way he forces it out makes her guess.

Kyna can't imagine dealing with that alone, without family to soften the blow, and suddenly so much about him clicks into place. She pulls away from her place pressed into his side, enough to turn to him more fully and wrap both arms around him.

As always, she doesn't know what to say, what she could possibly say, so she falls back on what's familiar—pressing a kiss against his cheek, brief enough that it barely activates the empathy bond, certainly not long enough to recognize any concrete emotions. She doesn't want to force that level of intimacy when he's already opening up.]

I'm so, so sorry, Ian. That must have been fucking awful.

[ She pulls her lips away before he has time to have a small freak-out about it, which is a solid call. Even this is bordering on too much, it's tipping his scale a little. Adding that on top would have him gently but firmly evacuating the apartment as soon as tactfully possible.

As it is, he's a little noncommittal about hugging her back — not because he doesn't appreciate or enjoy it, it's just... hard, or new. New territory, new navigation, he doesn't know how he feels being consoled for this because it's never happened before.

It feels like a precarious thing — some people in life can hold themselves together perfectly right up until someone touches or hugs them, and the comfort breaks everything down in an abrupt and overwhelming outpouring. It feels like he skirts the edge of that concept. Not yet close, but the notion of the possibility flitters through his mind. ]

It's okay. It was a long time ago.

[ Ten years? A little more maybe? Plenty of time for it to callous over. ]

[Kyna keeps her chin propped gently on his shoulder for a moment, more casual contact than an active attempt at comfort. When she pulls back, it's enough to give him a bit of space, though she keeps one arm wrapped around him loosely.]

Yeah.

[Maybe that's true.]

It's okay if it's not okay too, you know.

[It's not so much an attempt at pushing as an attempt at acknowledgment. As much as she tries to convince herself she doesn't care about her dad or his shitty family, a part of her still does. And maybe he doesn't really want to talk about it—she wouldn't blame him—but she wants him to know he has the option, even if it's not now.]

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