![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perfectworrytitle: Wanting to be Haunted
verse: People's Republic of Heaven
community:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
originalfic100
prompt: Table A - 086 Choices
word count: 964
characters: Kristopher & Gabriel
rating: G
content note: attempted suicide, self-injury, scars, child neglect
summary: Gabriel can't put off this conversation forever.
As spring became summer and the temperatures soared, Kristopher's new habit of dressing like his father became more worrisome. He wiped his face and fanned himself, but the heat was getting to him in his little blue slacks and Oxford-cloth button-down shirt.
Gabriel stopped and knelt beside his son to help Kristopher roll up his sleeves, showing him how to roll the cuffs properly.
"Better?" he asked, ruffling Kristopher's hair. Kristopher scowled up at him and fixed his ponytail. When Gabriel reached out to take his hand, Kristopher took it and swiftly unbuttoned the shirt cuff, eager to be helpful, and pushed up his father's sleeve.
Gabriel jerked away, but it was too late; Kristopher had already seen the scars lining the inside of his arm. He pushed his sleeve back down and took Kristopher gently by the hand.
They continued their walk in silence for awhile. Kristohper ignored the grand stone buildings, instead clinging to his father's hand and shyly running his fingertips over the his shirt cuff. He examined Gabriel's hand with great care, a stubborn little frown on his face.
Gabriel would have liked for Kristopher never to see those scars and he wouldn't have chosen a sunny summer afternoon walk if he had to choose at all, but now Kristopher had seen them and he knew he owed his son an explanation. Otherwise, Kristopher would worry.
Kristopher didn't mention it for the rest of the day, but he kept sneaking anxious glances at Gabriel from the corner of his eye when he thought his father wasn't looking. He picked at his food and announced that it was bed time shortly after dinner.
When he came to Gabriel for his goodnight kiss, Gabriel knew he couldn't put off the conversation any longer. Not when Kristopher had that anxious look in his eyes and placed his favorite stuffed toy, the one he slept with every night, in Gabriel's lap before kissing him on the cheek.
Gabriel handed Mew back to Kristopher and picked them both up. Kristopher buried his face in his father's shoulder as Gabriel settled on the edge of his bed.
"Kristopher," he said, hesitating. Kristopher looked up at him with such love and trust in his sky blue eyes that Gabriel knew he owed Kristopher the truth. "There's something I have to talk to you about."
"I'm sorry!" Kristopher blurted out, throwing his arms around Gabriel. "I was just trying to help! I didn't know, honest!"
Gabriel hugged Kristopher close and smoothed his hair. "You aren't in trouble, Kristopher."
"I'm not?" Kristohper sounded suspicious, wary. He narrowed his eyes.
"Of course you aren't," said Gabriel, shaken by Kristopher's panicked apology. "I'm not angry. I wanted to - I need to tell you a story."
Kristopher crawled from Gabriel's lap to the foot of the bed, then returned with a knit blanket to throw over their heads.
"What kind of story?" he asked, settling back into Gabriel's lap in the comforting darkness of their makeshift tent.
"A mostly sad one," said Gabirel. He paused to steady himself, and Kristopher pressed Mew into his hands again. Gabriel pet the stuffed cat-monster affectionately before returning her to his son, who hugged her tightly.
"It takes place long before you were born. Remember that, Kristopher." One of Kristopher's small hands found Gabriel's and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "There was a man who was very bitter and very sad. He lost someone very important to him, and it was his fault but he was too proud to say it. He didn't think there was any point in living, because he had already lived for a very long time and he hated the idea of living that long again, all by himself."
Gabriel paused, but Kristopher said nothing, so he continued: "So he decided to - He decided that he wouldn't live any longer."
Kristopher shifted so that he was looking Gabriel full in the face. "You tried to kill yourself, Glory?"
"Yes, Kristopher."
Kristopher didn't ask why. He didn't ask anything, just rolled up his father's sleeves to look at the white scars like latticework and run his soft child's hands over each one. He traced them with his fingertip, silent and thoughtful.
"Do they hurt?" he asked, the pad of this thumb pressed over a wide slash.
"Not any more," said Gabriel, and Kristopher lapsed back into silence.
"Kristopher, there's something I need you to understand. These scars are very old. They're much older than you, older than Jude. If someone told me then that I would be living here with you and Salomé and Jude - I would never have believed it, but I wouldn't've hurt myself, either, if I had known you were waiting for me. I love you more than anything."
"Thank you," said Kristopher. "I love you, too, Glory."
Gabriel ran a hand through Kristohper's hair. It was growing long, like his father's, but it grew in waves and loose curls, giving him a diffuse halo the color of winter sunlight, while Gabriel's hair grew dark gold and ruler straight.
They sat together in silence for awhile, Kristopher listening to his father's heartbeat, then: "If you wanted to do it again, would you?"
"No, Kristopher," said Gabriel. "I didn't want you to see because I was afraid you would worry. This happened a very long time ago, when I didn't have you." He hugged his son closer. "I will never leave you."
"Thank you," said Kristopher, leaning into him. Kristopher was an orphan; he was abandoned by adults who should have cared for him. Gabriel believed it a miracle that Kristopher was willing to reach out at all, but it was in complete love and trust thyat he drifted to sleep cradled safely in his father's scarred arms.
verse: People's Republic of Heaven
community:
originalfic100 prompt: Table A - 086 Choices
word count: 964
characters: Kristopher & Gabriel
rating: G
content note: attempted suicide, self-injury, scars, child neglect
summary: Gabriel can't put off this conversation forever.
As spring became summer and the temperatures soared, Kristopher's new habit of dressing like his father became more worrisome. He wiped his face and fanned himself, but the heat was getting to him in his little blue slacks and Oxford-cloth button-down shirt.
Gabriel stopped and knelt beside his son to help Kristopher roll up his sleeves, showing him how to roll the cuffs properly.
"Better?" he asked, ruffling Kristopher's hair. Kristopher scowled up at him and fixed his ponytail. When Gabriel reached out to take his hand, Kristopher took it and swiftly unbuttoned the shirt cuff, eager to be helpful, and pushed up his father's sleeve.
Gabriel jerked away, but it was too late; Kristopher had already seen the scars lining the inside of his arm. He pushed his sleeve back down and took Kristopher gently by the hand.
They continued their walk in silence for awhile. Kristohper ignored the grand stone buildings, instead clinging to his father's hand and shyly running his fingertips over the his shirt cuff. He examined Gabriel's hand with great care, a stubborn little frown on his face.
Gabriel would have liked for Kristopher never to see those scars and he wouldn't have chosen a sunny summer afternoon walk if he had to choose at all, but now Kristopher had seen them and he knew he owed his son an explanation. Otherwise, Kristopher would worry.
Kristopher didn't mention it for the rest of the day, but he kept sneaking anxious glances at Gabriel from the corner of his eye when he thought his father wasn't looking. He picked at his food and announced that it was bed time shortly after dinner.
When he came to Gabriel for his goodnight kiss, Gabriel knew he couldn't put off the conversation any longer. Not when Kristopher had that anxious look in his eyes and placed his favorite stuffed toy, the one he slept with every night, in Gabriel's lap before kissing him on the cheek.
Gabriel handed Mew back to Kristopher and picked them both up. Kristopher buried his face in his father's shoulder as Gabriel settled on the edge of his bed.
"Kristopher," he said, hesitating. Kristopher looked up at him with such love and trust in his sky blue eyes that Gabriel knew he owed Kristopher the truth. "There's something I have to talk to you about."
"I'm sorry!" Kristopher blurted out, throwing his arms around Gabriel. "I was just trying to help! I didn't know, honest!"
Gabriel hugged Kristopher close and smoothed his hair. "You aren't in trouble, Kristopher."
"I'm not?" Kristohper sounded suspicious, wary. He narrowed his eyes.
"Of course you aren't," said Gabriel, shaken by Kristopher's panicked apology. "I'm not angry. I wanted to - I need to tell you a story."
Kristopher crawled from Gabriel's lap to the foot of the bed, then returned with a knit blanket to throw over their heads.
"What kind of story?" he asked, settling back into Gabriel's lap in the comforting darkness of their makeshift tent.
"A mostly sad one," said Gabirel. He paused to steady himself, and Kristopher pressed Mew into his hands again. Gabriel pet the stuffed cat-monster affectionately before returning her to his son, who hugged her tightly.
"It takes place long before you were born. Remember that, Kristopher." One of Kristopher's small hands found Gabriel's and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "There was a man who was very bitter and very sad. He lost someone very important to him, and it was his fault but he was too proud to say it. He didn't think there was any point in living, because he had already lived for a very long time and he hated the idea of living that long again, all by himself."
Gabriel paused, but Kristopher said nothing, so he continued: "So he decided to - He decided that he wouldn't live any longer."
Kristopher shifted so that he was looking Gabriel full in the face. "You tried to kill yourself, Glory?"
"Yes, Kristopher."
Kristopher didn't ask why. He didn't ask anything, just rolled up his father's sleeves to look at the white scars like latticework and run his soft child's hands over each one. He traced them with his fingertip, silent and thoughtful.
"Do they hurt?" he asked, the pad of this thumb pressed over a wide slash.
"Not any more," said Gabriel, and Kristopher lapsed back into silence.
"Kristopher, there's something I need you to understand. These scars are very old. They're much older than you, older than Jude. If someone told me then that I would be living here with you and Salomé and Jude - I would never have believed it, but I wouldn't've hurt myself, either, if I had known you were waiting for me. I love you more than anything."
"Thank you," said Kristopher. "I love you, too, Glory."
Gabriel ran a hand through Kristohper's hair. It was growing long, like his father's, but it grew in waves and loose curls, giving him a diffuse halo the color of winter sunlight, while Gabriel's hair grew dark gold and ruler straight.
They sat together in silence for awhile, Kristopher listening to his father's heartbeat, then: "If you wanted to do it again, would you?"
"No, Kristopher," said Gabriel. "I didn't want you to see because I was afraid you would worry. This happened a very long time ago, when I didn't have you." He hugged his son closer. "I will never leave you."
"Thank you," said Kristopher, leaning into him. Kristopher was an orphan; he was abandoned by adults who should have cared for him. Gabriel believed it a miracle that Kristopher was willing to reach out at all, but it was in complete love and trust thyat he drifted to sleep cradled safely in his father's scarred arms.
