Blue Raspberry 10, Watermelon 7, Apple Pie 9
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy universe, Post NIEE
Challenges: Blue Raspberry 10 (in bad taste), Watermelon 7 (put it on my tab) & Apple Pie 9 (family)
Toppings & Extras: None.
Word Count: 1,408
Rating: PG-13 (Warning: Suicide aftermath)
Summary: Sorin starts to understand just what his brother has done to his son.
Notes: Towards the end of Paths. Follows on the end of the piece I posted from Vlad’s POV for PB week. For the 1k marathon for the Olympics
Only a second elapsed before Sage darted forward, but Sorin got there first, gently wrapping a hand around her elbow and stopping her. “Don’t,” he said softly even as he edged forward and peered out the broken window.
He pursed his lips, taking in his brother’s splayed and broken body. Vladimir would not be getting up from this one.
“Is he…?” Sage asked.
“It’s over,” he said, pulling her back from the window as he turned, only now spotting his son in the door way.
Dean clenched a knife with almost the same intensity as Sage, somehow covered in even more blood then his cousin, including a steady trickle down the side of his face that now splashed to the floor. “Hey, Dad,” Dean said, with a strange, crooked smile as he reached up and swiped at the blood with his elbow, momentarily stemming the flow and smearing it freshly across his cheek. As Sorin stared, trying to reconcile this short adult with the child he’d last seen only a couple weeks ago, the blood resumed its downward trek. His heart fluttered at the fact that a lot of it could be Dean’s and hurt almost worse at the idea that his twelve-year-old had gotten close enough to fighting to get someone else’s blood on him.
Sage, meanwhile, looked her cousin up and down. “What’d you do? Roll in it?” she asked.
“You’re one to talk,” he shot back, amusement, strangely enough, flaring in his eyes.
“You bet I did. Only way to do it properly.”
Hearing such morbid humor out of both children gave Sorin a jolt and he spoke as much because it scared him. At the same time, though, he recognized it - knew instinctively that this situation had created a bond between Dean and his niece that nothing in the world could now break. A bond just like his and Ani’s. “How much of it is yours?” he asked his son, his little boy, who, he noted absently, had to have grown at least an inch since he saw him last.
Dean’s gaze snapped back to him. “Why-” he started, almost harshly, before his eyes focused and he seemed to see Sorin for the first time. Then he sprinted forward and all but tackled Sorin in a tight hug. “I told Sage you’d come. I told her,” he said in a small, wavering voice.
“Of course I came,” he said, hugging him carefully, still not sure where he might be injured. He was fairly certain he’d identified a bandage on his arm, but other than that, it was impossible under all the blood. “You’re my son. I’m just sorry it took us this long.”
Dean pulled back now, eyes bone dry and smiling faintly, again a grown up in a child’s body. “You came as soon as you could. That’s what matters.”
Sorin knew it didn’t. He could see the energy it took Dean to look and sound even this positive. He could only imagine what his brother might have done. He kept one hand on Dean’s shoulder and used the other to gently turn his head to the side, eyeing the wound there critically.
“It’s not bad. It just got reopened,” his son said, making no move to get out of his grasp.
“And the rest of the blood?”
Dean now looked down at his saturated shirt. “A lot of it is from others. People bleed an awful lot when they’re dying,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Of course they do. It’s all got to get out of them,” Sage said and then, in a slightly softer voice, tinged with a slight quaver, “Did you kill any of them?”
He shrugged, turning to look at her as Sorin let his hand fall, fighting the urge to insist he see every last nick that instant. “Two.” His father swallowed hard, not liking that. Even he hadn’t killed his first man until fifteen.
She nodded. “Same. I got Tourn and Travers.”
“Renie?”
“Morgan was going to get them away safely. She showed up as Tourn went down.”
Sorin clenched his hand in a fist, feeling as if he’d lost control of everything and understood even less. “Are you both okay?” he asked, the question sounding inane the moment it left his lips.
The duo exchanged glances. “We’ll survive,” Dean said. “I told Sage she could come live with us.”
He nodded. This was more solid ground, even if the subject change was less then subtle. “Of course. I’m sure Ani and Ren will say the same.”
Sage smiled faintly. “Your son is very persuasive when he wants to be.”
“It runs in the family,” he said, with all sorts of innocent intentions, but he realized how bad it was, all things considered, almost immediately.
Dean shuddered and Sage’s gaze darted to him. “Dean,” she said sharply.
Finally, his son’s face broke into a familiar expression, even if it was a mulish one. “Leave off, Sage.”
“The agreement was your idea.”
Again, Sorin felt the conversation was spiraling into territory he couldn’t begin to understand, at least not yet. “Okay, you two, that’s enough,” he said gently. “I want you both to take a moment and figure out where you’re bleeding and then let me know,” he said and shrugged his small pack off his back, rummaging for the bandages he’d packed. They probably wouldn’t be enough but it was a definite start.
Sage stared at him strangely, but Dean just laughed, still sounding himself. “He’s a dad, Sage, a real one. Get used to it.”
“That’s right. Now take stock.”
Dean patted himself down, swiping at the blood in various places, checking critically to see if it welled up, indicating his blood, or just smeared, indicating someone else’s. While he did, Sorin stepped up to him. “I’m going to wrap your head. When did you get this one?”
“Tourn did it when they kidnapped me,” Dean said without looking up from his examinations. “It…” he obviously bit back what he was going to say. “It became an easy way to cause pain,” he said finally, “so it’s probably not as healed as it should be.”
“You’ve got that right,” Sorin muttered, dabbing at the blood to clean him up a little before wrapping bandages around his head.
Just then, Jay poked his head inside and brightened. “Oh good, there you guys are! Colin sent me to find you.” Like Sorin, Jay had a much more reasonable amount of blood on him then the two youngsters, more a spattering then a saturation. “Hey, Sage, Deankid.”
Dean smiled a little. “Hey. What’s up?”
“The compound is secure. The last groups have given up and the garrison is taking control. There’s no sign of Vladimir, though.”
“My brother won’t be a problem anymore,” Sorin said, jerking his head towards the window.
Jay frowned, but edged over and peeked out before his eyes widened in understanding. “Ah, yes, no walking away from that one.”
He was glad Jay had the tact not to ask how he’d ended up out the window, at least not at that second.
“Is everyone okay?”
“Oh, you know, I’ve turned traitor, killed two men to protect my four-year-old cousin from being raped and watched my father jump out a window. Doing wonderful,” Sage said. “All in a day’s work.”
For a moment, the three males just stared at her with varying degrees of surprise and shock. “There’s no need to whine about it,” Dean told her finally, smirking.
“Whining? I do not whine. You on the other hand,” Sage started.
Sorin glanced at Jay, who merely shrugged. “This is just how they operate. Best be getting used to it if you’re going to adopt her. I’ve spent most of the past days trying not to get in their way.”
The two teens had continued to argue, so Sorin was surprised when Sage interjected. “Adopt me?” she echoed, another strange look on her face.
Jay slung an arm around her shoulder. “Welcome to our large, screwy family, Sage. We stretch from Northwind to Oakbridge to Hilltop and beyond.”
She looked at Dean, who grinned, and then up at Sorin, who nodded. “He’s right. For better or worse, you’re part of ours now.”
Slowly, a smile spread across her face before she ducked her head. He felt himself smile too. He had never imagined Sage might exist, but there was absolutely no denying she was part of the family.
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy universe, Post NIEE
Challenges: Blue Raspberry 10 (in bad taste), Watermelon 7 (put it on my tab) & Apple Pie 9 (family)
Toppings & Extras: None.
Word Count: 1,408
Rating: PG-13 (Warning: Suicide aftermath)
Summary: Sorin starts to understand just what his brother has done to his son.
Notes: Towards the end of Paths. Follows on the end of the piece I posted from Vlad’s POV for PB week. For the 1k marathon for the Olympics
Only a second elapsed before Sage darted forward, but Sorin got there first, gently wrapping a hand around her elbow and stopping her. “Don’t,” he said softly even as he edged forward and peered out the broken window.
He pursed his lips, taking in his brother’s splayed and broken body. Vladimir would not be getting up from this one.
“Is he…?” Sage asked.
“It’s over,” he said, pulling her back from the window as he turned, only now spotting his son in the door way.
Dean clenched a knife with almost the same intensity as Sage, somehow covered in even more blood then his cousin, including a steady trickle down the side of his face that now splashed to the floor. “Hey, Dad,” Dean said, with a strange, crooked smile as he reached up and swiped at the blood with his elbow, momentarily stemming the flow and smearing it freshly across his cheek. As Sorin stared, trying to reconcile this short adult with the child he’d last seen only a couple weeks ago, the blood resumed its downward trek. His heart fluttered at the fact that a lot of it could be Dean’s and hurt almost worse at the idea that his twelve-year-old had gotten close enough to fighting to get someone else’s blood on him.
Sage, meanwhile, looked her cousin up and down. “What’d you do? Roll in it?” she asked.
“You’re one to talk,” he shot back, amusement, strangely enough, flaring in his eyes.
“You bet I did. Only way to do it properly.”
Hearing such morbid humor out of both children gave Sorin a jolt and he spoke as much because it scared him. At the same time, though, he recognized it - knew instinctively that this situation had created a bond between Dean and his niece that nothing in the world could now break. A bond just like his and Ani’s. “How much of it is yours?” he asked his son, his little boy, who, he noted absently, had to have grown at least an inch since he saw him last.
Dean’s gaze snapped back to him. “Why-” he started, almost harshly, before his eyes focused and he seemed to see Sorin for the first time. Then he sprinted forward and all but tackled Sorin in a tight hug. “I told Sage you’d come. I told her,” he said in a small, wavering voice.
“Of course I came,” he said, hugging him carefully, still not sure where he might be injured. He was fairly certain he’d identified a bandage on his arm, but other than that, it was impossible under all the blood. “You’re my son. I’m just sorry it took us this long.”
Dean pulled back now, eyes bone dry and smiling faintly, again a grown up in a child’s body. “You came as soon as you could. That’s what matters.”
Sorin knew it didn’t. He could see the energy it took Dean to look and sound even this positive. He could only imagine what his brother might have done. He kept one hand on Dean’s shoulder and used the other to gently turn his head to the side, eyeing the wound there critically.
“It’s not bad. It just got reopened,” his son said, making no move to get out of his grasp.
“And the rest of the blood?”
Dean now looked down at his saturated shirt. “A lot of it is from others. People bleed an awful lot when they’re dying,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Of course they do. It’s all got to get out of them,” Sage said and then, in a slightly softer voice, tinged with a slight quaver, “Did you kill any of them?”
He shrugged, turning to look at her as Sorin let his hand fall, fighting the urge to insist he see every last nick that instant. “Two.” His father swallowed hard, not liking that. Even he hadn’t killed his first man until fifteen.
She nodded. “Same. I got Tourn and Travers.”
“Renie?”
“Morgan was going to get them away safely. She showed up as Tourn went down.”
Sorin clenched his hand in a fist, feeling as if he’d lost control of everything and understood even less. “Are you both okay?” he asked, the question sounding inane the moment it left his lips.
The duo exchanged glances. “We’ll survive,” Dean said. “I told Sage she could come live with us.”
He nodded. This was more solid ground, even if the subject change was less then subtle. “Of course. I’m sure Ani and Ren will say the same.”
Sage smiled faintly. “Your son is very persuasive when he wants to be.”
“It runs in the family,” he said, with all sorts of innocent intentions, but he realized how bad it was, all things considered, almost immediately.
Dean shuddered and Sage’s gaze darted to him. “Dean,” she said sharply.
Finally, his son’s face broke into a familiar expression, even if it was a mulish one. “Leave off, Sage.”
“The agreement was your idea.”
Again, Sorin felt the conversation was spiraling into territory he couldn’t begin to understand, at least not yet. “Okay, you two, that’s enough,” he said gently. “I want you both to take a moment and figure out where you’re bleeding and then let me know,” he said and shrugged his small pack off his back, rummaging for the bandages he’d packed. They probably wouldn’t be enough but it was a definite start.
Sage stared at him strangely, but Dean just laughed, still sounding himself. “He’s a dad, Sage, a real one. Get used to it.”
“That’s right. Now take stock.”
Dean patted himself down, swiping at the blood in various places, checking critically to see if it welled up, indicating his blood, or just smeared, indicating someone else’s. While he did, Sorin stepped up to him. “I’m going to wrap your head. When did you get this one?”
“Tourn did it when they kidnapped me,” Dean said without looking up from his examinations. “It…” he obviously bit back what he was going to say. “It became an easy way to cause pain,” he said finally, “so it’s probably not as healed as it should be.”
“You’ve got that right,” Sorin muttered, dabbing at the blood to clean him up a little before wrapping bandages around his head.
Just then, Jay poked his head inside and brightened. “Oh good, there you guys are! Colin sent me to find you.” Like Sorin, Jay had a much more reasonable amount of blood on him then the two youngsters, more a spattering then a saturation. “Hey, Sage, Deankid.”
Dean smiled a little. “Hey. What’s up?”
“The compound is secure. The last groups have given up and the garrison is taking control. There’s no sign of Vladimir, though.”
“My brother won’t be a problem anymore,” Sorin said, jerking his head towards the window.
Jay frowned, but edged over and peeked out before his eyes widened in understanding. “Ah, yes, no walking away from that one.”
He was glad Jay had the tact not to ask how he’d ended up out the window, at least not at that second.
“Is everyone okay?”
“Oh, you know, I’ve turned traitor, killed two men to protect my four-year-old cousin from being raped and watched my father jump out a window. Doing wonderful,” Sage said. “All in a day’s work.”
For a moment, the three males just stared at her with varying degrees of surprise and shock. “There’s no need to whine about it,” Dean told her finally, smirking.
“Whining? I do not whine. You on the other hand,” Sage started.
Sorin glanced at Jay, who merely shrugged. “This is just how they operate. Best be getting used to it if you’re going to adopt her. I’ve spent most of the past days trying not to get in their way.”
The two teens had continued to argue, so Sorin was surprised when Sage interjected. “Adopt me?” she echoed, another strange look on her face.
Jay slung an arm around her shoulder. “Welcome to our large, screwy family, Sage. We stretch from Northwind to Oakbridge to Hilltop and beyond.”
She looked at Dean, who grinned, and then up at Sorin, who nodded. “He’s right. For better or worse, you’re part of ours now.”
Slowly, a smile spread across her face before she ducked her head. He felt himself smile too. He had never imagined Sage might exist, but there was absolutely no denying she was part of the family.