See I was on the verge of breaking down. Sometimes silence can seem so loud
[OOC: Over a year ago, I made a post with all 14 of my characters that almost reached 925 comments. I only have 8 characters now, but lets see how far that goes. :D Feel free to tag in. Multiple times with one character or with multiple chars. It's open for forever. And I know there have been a lot of posts lately but I haven't made one in over a
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This is one of the many reasons why David would look up to him. There's always that fear for him, and so much of it is irrational. He admires anyone that doesn't look like they're afraid when something obviously terrifying shoves its way on to the street.
"How do you..." He slips his hand back against his neck, staring at his knees., and he wishes he could look Wes in the eyes, in the face even. "How do you channel fear?"
David is quiet. He has an excuse not to look toward Wes' face, and he's watching him sew up that wound instead. It's interesting. The way that his hand moves across it, and it's like... it's like how most people know how to tie their shoes.
But this is much more complicated. It should be much more complicated. Wes makes it look easy, and David ducks his head, a little shyly, when Wes moves to sit closer.
He is not going to pass out any time soon, but his head is still killing him and his thoughts are still a bit disoriented.
"I'd like to... to learn."
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He can remember the anger instead. Oh, how he's used anger in the past. That is not what he'd like to teach anybody, and it is not what he'd like to teach David.
Chicago, though. Has a way of teaching you on its own a good chunk of the time.
Wes doesn't mind not being looked in the face. He embraces his calling, but he will not force anyone to embrace it the way he has. It should have some level of choice, and if David's more comfortable never looking at him in the eye, so be it.
He slows down on the stitching long enough to give the instructions. He waits until he can sense David is feeling a little less disoriented to get to the actual teaching, but for the most part, he's forcing David to focus. "First thing you gotta keep in mind is this..."
The blow to the head might not have been grave, but it's a blow to the head all the same.
Worst place one could take a hit.
If David strains to focus and keeps talking, there's less of a chance of a concussion. Once the thirty minutes are up, if David's head's still hurting, Wes is gonna go papa bear and have Martha do a CT scan of some sort. Prolonged concussions are no good for anybody, okay?
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He hasn't felt much anger in his life. The anger that he has had has been centered toward his father almost entirely. It's an overall foreign emotion to him, but this city knows how to teach people to be angry.
Someday he'll look Wes in the eye, but that will be a really, really bad day. David tries not to think about it too much.
He is able to focus, and it becomes easier to focus as Wes goes on, describing it all. David hopes he'd be able to do it if he ever got put in that situation.
"Did someone teach you how to do that too or did... you just figure it out on your own after getting cut on the arm too many times?"
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Keep it simple, stupid is kind of his motto.
"A little bit of both," he says with a laugh. He gets up and walks over to the fridge. When he returns it's with two sodas and he hands one to David. "An Archangel picked me up off the streets a good while back."
Wes lifts a brow and his lips twitch. "I'm eighty years old, so that really is a while back. He taught me a great deal but there's nothin' like the firsthand experience. And I got a lot of experience in the battlefield."
He places the suturing kit back on the table and looks David over.
"You feelin' any better?"
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If that's the case, he doesn't want to have a higher pain tolerance.
He takes the soda with a quiet thanks, ducking his head until his bangs slide out in front of his face. "An Archangel. Like my dad," David says with a smile that's not really a smile. His dad always makes him feel a bit sick to talk about. "I remember you... told me about him. Last time."
Not a lot. He has a slow sip of his soda, and he looks up at the age. "You're... eighty? You don't... You don't seem that old," he says. "I mean... I don't mean just look wise. I know old angels, and they're... They're not like you."
Of course, he also only ever met old archangels. Archangels aren't really like any of the other types of angels for the most part.
He nods at the question, getting to his feet and slipping his fingers through his hair. "Yes. My head doesn't really hurt anymore." And here comes David in his awkwardness. He clears his throat, runs his fingers through his hair again. "...thanks."
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He molded himself into a certain weapon, and he wonders what he is when he's not wearing all those years of training. Wonders if there'd be anything left of that boy he used to be.
Wes notices things too, David. He notices that smile-that's-not-a-smile. "Yeah, I remember you tellin' me a bit about that, too," he says, placing the needle back on the table.
"Archangels outside of Chicago (and even in it) usually have a certain mindset, one I don't agree with. Hunt demons for the sake of their bein' a demon. Wasn't too keen on the idea of giving myself over to him. Back at the time, I didn't have a lot of options left, though. Once I got myself back up on my feet, refused to go on a demon raid and just left."
He smiles wryly. "Nearly gave the guy a heart attack. Haven't seen him since."
Wes has to bite back the amusement that comes with David's reaction. "I'm eighty." A pause. "Eighty-four. A lot of what I am comes with who I surround myself with, and I surround myself with damn fine people that don't make me feel so old."
Baw, David. You are adorable. The narration cannot handle all the adorable.
"Hey, don't mention it." Wes stands as well, slipping back into his leather jacket as if his arm hadn't just nearly been clawed off. "I'm headin' to the Tower to meet with my ward. Anywhere I can drop you off?"
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He's never met one before, and Wes is older, wiser, nice. He reminds David a little of his uncle who he hasn't seen in years.
"My dad'll wait until they do something, but he's not really... particular about what they do before he'll... go hunt them down with his buddies," he admits, and there are memories that he has that come from when he was small. His dad gathering weapons, packing bags and tents into the back of his car. Someday you'll get to come with me, boy. How he wanted to go then, how little he understood. "It's a lot like people who go hunting for deer in the woods."
He smiles a bit in response to Wes' wry smile, ducking his head again.
"So if you surround yourself with young people, you'll always seem younger than eighty?" There's another small smile on his face as he's not really sure how true that could be.
David hides from this adorable-calling.
He notices how easily Wes puts on that jacket, despite the fact that his arm has been injured. It's amazing to David. He's still recovering from his head.
"Actually, I have to... go to the Tower too. To meet someone too. Not your ward. Someone else," David admits with a tense shrug and awkwardness and... He presses his lips together. "I'll go with you."
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"Sounds familiar and yeah, that's basically what it's like," he says with a nod, then looks up at the boy. It makes him sick, kind of. He knows demons he likes, demons that are just kids, demons that don't ask to be given the calling they're given.
Still, it's David's father there and wrong or right Wes is gonna respect that.
"Must come with some expectations there," he points out, in a manner that allows David to either ignore or agree. He doesn't seem like the kind who'd want to go out hunting demons like deer in the woods.
Wes grins. "Hey, get back to me when you're eighty yourself. You'll see there's logic to it." He shakes his head, finishing the soda. "Nah, not necessarily young people. Just good people. People that laugh hard and play hard. Brings that out in yourself, too."
YOU ARE ADORABLE DAVID, DEAL WITH IT.
"All right." Wes tosses the keys up in the air and then catches them again. "Hadn't seen you around there, but good to know. Come on, we'll stop by a drive-thru first. I'm starving."
He's not glad to know David frequents the Tower because he plans on keeping an eye on him or anything. Ahem.
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There's that half a second where he doesn't admit it. He recognizes that he can agree or ignore it, and he doesn't-- There's that hesitation and then the words spill forth.
"Yeah, it came with-- I was supposed to go with him on hunts," he admits, and his throat tightens. "Made best friends with a demon instead."
And the demon is dead by his father's hands, but that's nothing that he needs to get into.
He lets out a breath and then glances upward, not to the eyes, but he notices the grin. David smiles too. "I'll let you know then," he says. "But I have a long way to go."
Yes, that was David teasing. A little bit. It's done a little shyly as he does everything else.
And David, unlike Robin, can deal with it.
"I don't go... too often. Just sometimes. For Anne," David says and then smiles at the news of the drive-thru. He isn't really hungry, but Wes probably needs a lot of food since he's so strong. "Drive-thru, got it."
SPEAKING OF ADORABLE. Ahem.
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Wes shakes his head. He didn't mean to go off on a tangent. He just wants David to realize what he did was not wrong. A father may be a father, but what he was asking of David--that's what was wrong.
And it's really weird, to feel a surge of anger in the stead of someone he's just met.
"Hey, I've met firsts that are over nine hundred years. Eighty doesn't seem too old in comparison." Wes does not mind the shy teasing. He's pretty good about teasing back and he doesn't make a big deal out of the shyness.
Sooner or later, people come out of their shells.
And this is why David is the narration's favorite. Now the narration will go hide.
A man of his word, Wes goes to a drive-thru. He asks for five cheeseburgers and three sets of fries. ...He will share with David but four of those cheeseburgers are for him. He leaves them directly in front of the Kashtta. He's already finished one burger. Ahem.
"Now, you'll let me know if you need anything, yeah?" Wes asks, unwrapping another burger as he walks inside.
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He would never stop making friends with demons, because of his dad. But it's nice to get some affirmation anyway from someone he... looks up to.
No, eighty isn't old in comparison. It's not even old in comparison to David's dad, but that was his tiny attempt at teasing. "Do you think you'd ever want to live that long?"
Not that guardian angels ever do, but it's a question that sticks with David.
Angels can live a really long time. A long life doesn't necessarily mean a good one or one that's worth living at all. Plus, it would be hard. People die all the time, and he wouldn't want to get... to where that never bothered him.
David stares in wide eyed amazement when Wes orders so much food. He's only half way through his cheeseburger when they walk up the steps and into the tower.
He shrugs a little at the question, running his fingers through his hair awkwardly. "Yeah, sure."
It's nothing that he's used to doing. He's a teenage boy, and he just doesn't think to come to anyone if he needs help with something. David feels like it's kinda his job to take care of it, but the offer's out there so he's not going to say no.
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Wes smiles sadly and not without a small amount of rare gentleness. There's regret in his eyes, and for a moment he's relieved David never looks into them. "The reason I refused to go on a demon raid was the demon I befriended. She was also a good person and a good everything else. I decided to make up my own mind."
Was. Wes speaks in past tense about a lot of people. One would think he'd get used to it but he doesn't, really.
If he's honest with himself, he knows what is going to happen down the line. Martha heals as many people as she can. It's a death sentence. He will be losing a ward someday. "No," he answers, and he manages to not sound as sad as he feels. He manages to not show the fact his chest is burning.
"No, I don't think anyone should get to live that long. Life's...it's beautiful because it doesn't last forever or anything close to forever. I don't think it's supposed to."
He's used to getting those looks, David. In retrospect, it is a good thing he decided on cheeseburgers instead of hot dogs. He can eat six of those in one sitting.
It's ridiculous.
Wes shakes his head with a grin. "You take care now, David."
Whether he takes Wes up on his offer or not, it's not like there's an expiration date on it. And in Chicago, you can never have too many of those offers. Something you learn along the way.
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David notices the was as well, and he does know about that. What it's like to be friends with someone and then have to refer to them with wases. He understands that, and something twists inside of him, right at the center of his chest. "I'm sorry about... your friend." He doesn't ever say this, but it's true. "My.. first friend. My old best friend-- In Kansas, he's-- he's a was... too."
It's about all he'll be able to manage, but it's a miracle that he managed that much.
"Yeah," he says in the face of what Wes has said. "I feel the same. Life would start... losing its meaning if it went on too long. I always want life to mean something to me."
Hey, he can't... really help having those looks. He's never seen anyone eat that much before, not even his father.
"Um. You too, Wes. If you need anything ever too, I--" Right, teenage boy saying this to a grown adult man, and he shakes his head, waves a hand, and then wanders away.
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Wes quiets, waiting for David to finish what he's going to say, doesn't think to interrupt him in any of the pauses. It's a sobering reminder. Young or old, angel or demon--everyone's got a story that somehow manages to break your damn heart.
"I'm real sorry about yours," Wes says. It's genuine, and he doesn't ask for details. Hell, he doesn't think he could manage to share the details of his own circumstance. Some stories are painful and you can't tell them on the whole. Just give bits and pieces.
Enough so the other person can form a picture. David mentioned his father and what he was like. Mentioned befriending a demon that's no longer around. Wes has a picture, more or less, and the burning rages on.
"Think as long as you remember that and don't lose sight of it, you'll be fine." The smile he gives this time is easier, even if it's smaller.
"Will do," Wes says. The last thing on his mind is to make fun of the teenager for it, much less point out he's the older one. He gives David a little salute and watches him go. It's only until David's gone he lets the amusement break into his features.
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