barefoot on a beach + i'm happy

[fatherallthechange]

They're not really beach people, it's true, but the ocean's important. Being with family is important. Taking trips with all of them-- Eileen, Rachel, Aidan, Elliot, and baby Edgar-- all together is something that the adults are trying to take for more seriously.

So they're at a quiet little beach much like the one Rachel and the rest of the quartet had gone to in their youth. Rachel's in a swimsuit for the first time in a while, helping Edgar walk at the edge of the waves. Elliot is watching her with a smile, as he gets all their food and blankets set up, before taking off his shirt and moving in the general direction of his wife.

It's a testament to his own growth, that his spine doesn't even prickle slightly as he lets the sun shine on his scars.

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[runallthelights]

It isn't that he had never known how brutal the Deck could be--how much worse the Spades had been, how hard it still was for some, how much cruelty was allowed in old families in particular. It isn't that he had never faced anything that felt wrong deep in his gut or suspected that most of the wrinkles in his father's brow had been etched long ago.

It's just that it distracts him from his own trajectory for a heartbeat, seeing for the first time the true extent on the skin of someone he loved so much.

"--Dad?"

He's not a kid anymore, but his voice sounds young and nervous for a moment, the way it used to when he wasn't quite sure he was actually wanted. He knows better than to bring this sort of thing up, but the odd panic in his chest for a few heartbeats is the same as it used to be watching his father leave at the end of any given visit.

[fatherallthechange]

The nerves in his son's voice have him turning instantly, of course, worry for the young man obvious in his expression.

Facing him, though, will reveal even more scars. It might help a little to see that there's slightly less intentionality to the ones on his torso-- the scattered remainders of road rash from a motorcycle accident, the various knife wounds common for a Deckian to bear; the faint line of a scar on his leg from when the bone had broken through skin.

It will also likely hurt more, though, to see the far more intentional lines of scars along his wrists and backs of his arms; the cigarette burns that occasionally pop up between the scars and on the tops of his thighs. The only consolation might be that these are years old, by now.

All the scars are old enough, at least, that he isn't thinking of them when he looks at his son.

"What's up, kiddo?"

[runallthelights]

This isn't the time or place, probably. This is a happy family outing. This is playing with his little brother in the ocean and teasing Eileen so she stops looking so serious all the time and letting his father and step-mother have a little time to relax together.

But it hurts. It's strange, but it physically hurts to take in the marks crossing his father's skin. He can't help the way his own shoulders hunch in slightly.

He also can't help that he doesn't know what to say, lips parting helplessly.

[fatherallthechange]

"Hey."

His voice is low with concern, but gentle as he steps back towards his son, one hand reaching out carefully to touch at his elbow.

"Aidan. Kiddo. Can't help with what's wrong 'f you don't tell me."

[runallthelights]

It's another layer of what hurts. It's his father--his wonderful, caring father who had gotten so good at making time. It's the man who had shown him how to be one, how to be strong and soft at the same time. This is someone who doesn't even deserve the 'normal' set of cuts and marks that the average Spade will wear without a second thought.

"You're--"

But what is there to say? What is there to ask? What is there except the odd empathetic hurt he doesn't know how to explain?

"--you're okay?"

[fatherallthechange]

"Me?"

There's obvious surprise at the question, his fingers squeezing Aidan's lightly. He hopes it's grounding.

"Yeah, kiddo, 'm all right. Worried about you, though."

It's a rather out of the blue question. He's got a very concerning expression on his face.

[runallthelights]

"--I'm okay."

Or, as often happens, knows he will be once he gets a hug. The little ducking motion of his torso is surely familiar--getting himself a little lower to fit better in a hug.

It's just his arms don't quite know what to do with themselves, hesitant to touch the network of scars he now knows crosses his father's spine.

[fatherallthechange]

"Y'sure?"

Because he looks uncertain in even reaching for a hug. Elliot's absolutely going to offer, but he'll hold back completely when the other young man looks so tentative.

[runallthelights]

"Yeah. 'm sure."

He can still hide his face against his father's shoulder easily enough. He can still bring himself close into a hug. His arms can still make it to his father's waist.

He just can't let his hands splay against his father's back, fingers balled into uncomfortable fists.

[fatherallthechange]

Well. That distinct discomfort absolutely has him putting two and two together-- the query about whether or not he was all right; the concern in his eyes; the avoidance of his back.

He doesn't think of his scars as often these days. There's a sigh that accompanies the realization, now.

"Hey." Shifting back is careful. He's doing his best not to dislodge the young man, but he has to catch at at least one of those balled fists; try to properly hold his son's hand, "Those were-- a long time ago, mm? These-- these, too."

The shift of his hand so that Aidan's fingers brush against the scars against his wrist is delicate, perhaps still a hint shaky.

"Things are a lot better for me now than they were then. You can touch them. And you can-- ask."

Which might be the more important part.

[runallthelights]

Holding his father's hand is an old, easy instinct. No matter how nervous or angry or terrified, his fingers know exactly how to cling to the safety of his father's hand.

He knows the little scars on his father's fingers. He knows where he can get his own knuckles lined comfortably up with his father's.

That makes it easier to breathe through having his fingers pressed carefully to his father's wrist, if with a sharper sort of exhale. It doesn't quite destroy the tremble in his voice as he manages to reply. "'s... 's just, 'm... r-really glad y-you're here, Dad."

[fatherallthechange]

A rough chuckle as he leans to press a light kiss against Aidan's forehead.

"Believe me, kiddo. I am, too." Which is such a wonderful change. Which he can't help but smile about, despite the pain of having these scars addressed after all this time, "'nd I'm-- glad you are. Thank you."

Not all of his children feel the same.

[runallthelights]

Coming around to an actual hug is a little clunky. It's easier once he's close again to settle into hugging his father properly again.

"'s nothin' for thanking. I love you."

[fatherallthechange]

"I love you, too."

It's something that has him smiling brightly to say as he presses a kiss against his son's forehead.

"And it is-- something t'thank. I'm grateful that you love me."

Not everyone he's related to does, after all.

[runallthelights]

That gets his own smile beginning to settle into place properly again. This, after all, is one of his favourite places to breathe.

"And we can-- talk, sometime?"

After enjoying today.

[fatherallthechange]

"We can. Promise."

It might be good, to talk about this, even if it'll probably hurt.

[runallthelights]

"Thanks, Dad."

It's necessary to give one more tight squeeze before he lets go. It's also necessary, if much more unconscious, to let his fingers catch just briefly at Elliot's wrist, protective and lingering.

"Me and Edie got the kiddo, okay? You and Rachel can relax."

[fatherallthechange]

His own fingers squeeze back against Aidan's, as reassuring as he can manage.

"Thanks, Aidan. We appreciate it, mm?"

He knows Rachel will say as much, too, but it's important for him to affirm.

[runallthelights]

His grin is easy and natural enough again. If there's anything lingering now, it's attentiveness rather than concern.

"Just tryin' t' be a good brother."

And son, clearly.

[fatherallthechange]

"You already are."

It's automatic, but it's also clearly genuine.

[runallthelights]

"Gettin' there."

It's natural to bump his head against his father's shoulder. It's gotten natural now to kiss Rachel on the cheek and to carefully sweep the little boy out from her arms with a million reassurances.

It will get natural to talk with his father about these sorts of hurts, he's certain.

[fatherallthechange]

"Love you, kiddo."

It's a sentiment that is echoed by Rachel when she surrenders Edgar to his older brother's grip. It's something the couple will agree on when the older woman joins her husband and they discuss the conversation that's just been had.

It's something that Elliot will make sure to repeat, when he and Aidan come together to properly talk again.

[lowtohigh]

It's amazingly easy, as a sentiment, to bounce around this little group. It comes a little tinged with fluster between the two older children, perhaps, but it's certainly going to get thrown here and there throughout the little trip.

And it will certainly, before all is said and done, come from Eileen stealing her way under Elliot's arm for a few seconds. "--Uncle Elliot?"

[fatherallthechange]

It's nice to see the two older children getting along. It's even nicer to have Eileen pop up at his side. He's going to pull her in close, giving her a warm squeeze.

"Hey there, kiddo."

[lowtohigh]

She remembers big rough scars on Edgar's arms and chest in half-memories of the beach. She remembers being fascinated with tracing the thin lines, so familiar in the Deck, that hide among the folds of Andrew's palms and Lancelot's knuckles. And she knows where half a dozen scars live on Elisha's shoulders and sides, the oldest beginning to soften slightly around the edges.

It's fairly comfortable to fit herself in here now without a second thought, her own arms wrapping briefly tight around Elliot's waist. "Love you. That's all."

Today is the day to make sure it's been heard, apparently.

[fatherallthechange]

It's easy to smile, around Eileen. It's even more so when she's folding herself in for a hug like this.

"Love you, too, Eileen."

It's always nice to assure her of that, now that he's not skittish about saying it to people.

[lowtohigh]

"I know."

She's gotten good at seeing in it faces, between Lancelot and Elisha. It's still nicer to hear, admittedly.

"Good day, yeah?"

[fatherallthechange]

"Yeah," he says after a beat, his smile soft and pleased, "It really has been."

[lowtohigh]

She gives another tight squeeze before relaxing her grip. One arm drops away, although the other sticks loosely around her uncle's waist all the same.

"Let's-- do this more."

It's difficult being a teenager.

[fatherallthechange]

It's nice to hear her asking. It has him smiling quite broadly, pressing a brief but firm kiss against her forehead.

"Yeah. It'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

[lowtohigh]

There's the tiniest bit of a squirm under the kiss, the way most children turning into 'grown ups' squirm.

"While the weather's nice, at least."

See? It's not that she's still a sweet little girl who loves her family. It's that the beach is nice.

[fatherallthechange]

A chuckle.

"If you say so, kiddo."