[Fanfic] Scars
Title: Scars
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Liz mostly, some Kid, Patti, others.
Type: Fanfic
Genre: General/Introspective
Disclaimer: Do not own Soul Eater.
Warnings: References back to Wounds, Liz nurses.
Summary: Liz's mind wanders during a late-night feeding of her son.
Notes: Set after Parenthood, planned this for a while and then suddenly it was written in less than an hour.
Liz stirred, as it slowly registered that what woke her were her son's noises-the ones that came before crying-that signaled that he wanted to nurse. Of course, the other two in the bed slept on; Patti took care of the daytime feedings for both babies (they'd always been close, so why not pool resources for feeding?) and neither had quite been able to bring themselves to suggest Kid take a turn at baby duties.
He was not back to his old self.
She shifted the blanket covering the crate, reaching in to pick Aiden up from the nest he and his half-sister had made of their parents' old quilt. It was weird, but Kid had been right: the two were happier like that than they'd been when in cradles. Patti had always joked that the pair's father was really mindful of a cat, and now with the two young half-shinigami were acting so very kittenish, or perhaps puppyish…maybe her little sister was right.
She rocked her son, fingers playing with his hair-strands of pale blond, evidence that there was a blond somewhere in Kid's ancestry. It'd already become clear, too, that unlike his half-sister-who looked so much like her father had at the same age, going by the baby pictures Shinigami-sama had shown them-he was going to have eyes the same color as his mother's…
Liz had half-expected Kid to be depressed at how different his two children looked. After all, they were not at all a matched pair; different genders, exact opposite looks…
She wouldn't have liked his symmetry obsession returning like that, but she did-much to her surprise-want to see it return. It might have been troublesome, but it was one of the things about him that made him who he was.
Instead, he just seemed…resigned.
Sometimes she wondered if it wasn't internal scars, to match his external ones.
Kid had been eviscerated when they'd found him. It was the worst injury they'd ever seen him get-even worse than when Mos had taken his arm off, and there was a pale, thin white scar encircling his arm from that one. Previous injuries, which would have killed a human but he had been able to shrug off ultimately, hadn't even left a mark.
He had never needed to be put (sewn) back together before.
The incisions Dr. Stein had made had healed perfectly; his careful stitches had ensured that, much to the surprise of Kid's friends and his two lovers. The cuts that had been made by Noah and his group, though, had not healed so neatly.
They had not even left the sort of neat, pale scar that Kid had due to Mos. If they'd not known about it, they'd never have noticed that scar.
Liz didn't look at his stomach much, anymore.
The cuts had been angled, as if the person making them didn't really care just what exactly got sliced, confident that Kid would be able to survive whatever was done to him short of his spine getting damaged.
At least, she hoped that they'd just been so confident of his ability to survive. Some of what she knew about Gopher from the others…
Kid wouldn't talk about it.
She didn't want to know for sure.
But those scars…
Angled, asymmetric…and permanent, from what his father had said…
Liz missed his obsession for symmetry, because she couldn't tell if Kid had merely given up on ever being symmetric himself, or if it was truly a sign he had gotten better from that part of his problems.
Yes, it had bothered her, gotten on her nerves, and certainly been a problem, but…
Liz would rather have her old Kid back, even if it'd mean not having Aiden and Alice, than have him feeling himself permanently worthless and not obsessing over symmetry because he thought there was no way for him to ever change that.
At least before…Kid had felt that he could-somehow-reach the goal his obsession had given him.
There was nothing Liz could think of that could make up for it, if he had given up on that.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Liz mostly, some Kid, Patti, others.
Type: Fanfic
Genre: General/Introspective
Disclaimer: Do not own Soul Eater.
Warnings: References back to Wounds, Liz nurses.
Summary: Liz's mind wanders during a late-night feeding of her son.
Notes: Set after Parenthood, planned this for a while and then suddenly it was written in less than an hour.
Liz stirred, as it slowly registered that what woke her were her son's noises-the ones that came before crying-that signaled that he wanted to nurse. Of course, the other two in the bed slept on; Patti took care of the daytime feedings for both babies (they'd always been close, so why not pool resources for feeding?) and neither had quite been able to bring themselves to suggest Kid take a turn at baby duties.
He was not back to his old self.
She shifted the blanket covering the crate, reaching in to pick Aiden up from the nest he and his half-sister had made of their parents' old quilt. It was weird, but Kid had been right: the two were happier like that than they'd been when in cradles. Patti had always joked that the pair's father was really mindful of a cat, and now with the two young half-shinigami were acting so very kittenish, or perhaps puppyish…maybe her little sister was right.
She rocked her son, fingers playing with his hair-strands of pale blond, evidence that there was a blond somewhere in Kid's ancestry. It'd already become clear, too, that unlike his half-sister-who looked so much like her father had at the same age, going by the baby pictures Shinigami-sama had shown them-he was going to have eyes the same color as his mother's…
Liz had half-expected Kid to be depressed at how different his two children looked. After all, they were not at all a matched pair; different genders, exact opposite looks…
She wouldn't have liked his symmetry obsession returning like that, but she did-much to her surprise-want to see it return. It might have been troublesome, but it was one of the things about him that made him who he was.
Instead, he just seemed…resigned.
Sometimes she wondered if it wasn't internal scars, to match his external ones.
Kid had been eviscerated when they'd found him. It was the worst injury they'd ever seen him get-even worse than when Mos had taken his arm off, and there was a pale, thin white scar encircling his arm from that one. Previous injuries, which would have killed a human but he had been able to shrug off ultimately, hadn't even left a mark.
He had never needed to be put (sewn) back together before.
The incisions Dr. Stein had made had healed perfectly; his careful stitches had ensured that, much to the surprise of Kid's friends and his two lovers. The cuts that had been made by Noah and his group, though, had not healed so neatly.
They had not even left the sort of neat, pale scar that Kid had due to Mos. If they'd not known about it, they'd never have noticed that scar.
Liz didn't look at his stomach much, anymore.
The cuts had been angled, as if the person making them didn't really care just what exactly got sliced, confident that Kid would be able to survive whatever was done to him short of his spine getting damaged.
At least, she hoped that they'd just been so confident of his ability to survive. Some of what she knew about Gopher from the others…
Kid wouldn't talk about it.
She didn't want to know for sure.
But those scars…
Angled, asymmetric…and permanent, from what his father had said…
Liz missed his obsession for symmetry, because she couldn't tell if Kid had merely given up on ever being symmetric himself, or if it was truly a sign he had gotten better from that part of his problems.
Yes, it had bothered her, gotten on her nerves, and certainly been a problem, but…
Liz would rather have her old Kid back, even if it'd mean not having Aiden and Alice, than have him feeling himself permanently worthless and not obsessing over symmetry because he thought there was no way for him to ever change that.
At least before…Kid had felt that he could-somehow-reach the goal his obsession had given him.
There was nothing Liz could think of that could make up for it, if he had given up on that.