For Sawyer (Timed for... whenever)

[little_moons]

We had dinner, like a family, but that only seemed to make it more obvious how many chairs around the table are empty now. The girls are moody, angry and cranky and sad, even though they don't always seem to know why, but when we sit at the table, the three of us, it's like they know how thin a thread I'm hanging on by and they just... behave. They

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[cibosity]

I'm pretty sure that all people get moments in their lives when all they can do is stare at the hell that fate's put them in, and I'll be the first to admit- I've had plenty of times when I'm tempted to do little more than give God the finger and ask him why the hell he's singled me out for all this crap. Why the hell he decided to riddle me with a bunch of weaknesses, then have my life shaped so that every single one matters, like I'm just some tragic figure for his divine amusement

[cibosity]

Of all the things I could've imagined bringing Neil to this point, this wasn't one of them. And it makes me sick. I'm seeing red and feeling sick to my stomach, and for half a second it's all I can do to keep my anger contained, knuckles turning white as I grasp my glass. "Jesus," I manage, letting go of my glass to pinch at the bridge of my nose, eyes squeezing shut. If I got my hands on this guy... can't guarantee that I wouldn't do something I'd later regret. I stare over at Neil, hoping to high hell that he means that last part, that he hates this guy and isn't about to give him a second chance, whether in a memory or otherwise.

"You were just a kid," I say, as though that changes anything that we're saying right now. "You didn't know any better. Perspective ain't easy to come by."

[little_moons]

"I know I was then, but afterward... Look, I'm not tryin' to make this about me, man. I'm just sayin'... You're fucked up, and I get that. You get so all you can think about is that one thing. That one person. To the point where your life isn't yours anymore. And I know that there's nothin' to be done to make up for the shit you done, or the shit I've done. It is what it is, there's no starting over. Not completely. But that doesn't have to be all there is, you know? That's not all there is to you, and when I say I don't think you're a bad fuckin' person, that's all I mean."

[cibosity]

Suddenly, it's... just enough. I wave my hand, and if it comes off as dismissive, well- better than talking about any of this for too long. I know Neil only means well, but there ain't a single person who's gonna be able to convince me to let go of any of it, especially not with this damn island shoving it in my face time and time again. Reminding me of how fear felt to a kid, how my entire life fell apart. Dozens of cons, and dozens of chances that I've done that to someone all on my own.

"I get along fine," I tell Neil, glancing over and daring him to tell me any different. Hell, it ain't even like most of the people on the island see me as anything other than that redneck with the hair. "And ain't that what all of us are tryin' for?"

[little_moons]

"Guess so," I murmur, reaching for the bottle to take another swig.

I can't argue with that. He does get along fine, as far as I can tell, and that's really all any of us can hope for. Anyway, it's not like I've got my life all pulled together. It's a fuckin' mess and it's not like I've done a bang up job of keepin' it secret.

[cibosity]

"Which brings me to what actually pulled me here in the first place," I add. Maybe it's the last thing he wants to do. Talk more about what's going on with him. Maybe. Maybe it's the last thing that he wants, in the same way that I've never wanted to talk to Neil about Tom Sawyer and my life as a con, but I did anyway, and there's a part of me now that wonders if it didn't help solidify what we've got going just a bit. Earning me a friendshpi that actually seems to last.

Don't think Neil would have as much trouble making those, of course, and the comparison ain't perfect. But maybe he'll get something outta it. "You hangin' in there?"

[little_moons]

"I dunno. Guess so," I admit with a shrug, picking at a jagged piece of skin beside my thumbnail.

"I mean, I dunno how the fuck to do any of this shit, but that's nothin' new."

[cibosity]

It's going somewhere. This conversation, it could go somewhere if I let it, my eyes dropping down to where he's picking at his skin, to all of the little movements and fidgeting that would have made him a dead target for a talk or two years ago. Back when I didn't...

Back when my whole job was tugging the truth out of people, finding the holes, exploiting them.

That ain't what I'm trying for here, but it's funny, how close the paths are. But they say the path to hell's paved with good intentions.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that," I point out.

[little_moons]

"I don't know how to be a fuckin' father. Or a fuckin' adult, even," I shrug, tracing a random pattern in the condensation pooled on the counter. "And before you fuckin' argue that I'm doin' fine or whatever, I'm fakin' it half the fucking time."

But most people are, anyway, I guess. There's no fuckin' handbook on how to raise your dead husband's kids.

[cibosity]

"Like the rest of us ain't fakin' the hell out of everything we do? Christ, Neil, it's not like there's a friggin' handbook on how to be there for a friend, let alone as a parent," I reply, my gaze caught on the movement of his finger through the water on the counter. "And it ain't like... somethin' you've prepared yourself for."

Part of me even wants to point out that it might not have been anything he wanted, but it seems too cruel to put it like that now. I've seen him with those girls. He ain't giving them up for anything.

"S'far as I'm concerned, you've already learned how to be a goddamned father. And adult. But that don't make it any more comfortable to think about than it was before."