terribly sorry, officer (baelfiery) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-08-12 08:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, garrus vakarian, neal cassidy (baelfire) |
Who: Cuddlefishes (Neal + Garrus) and also Henry!
What: Painting like manly men, officially meeting Neal's son, and rootbeer
When: Tuesday
Where: Neal's place
Rating/Warnings: Not so much
Status: Complete
Marriage, children. It was a miracle that, in this peculiar shithole of malleable metaphysics, a sense of domesticity could be found. Didn’t matter if the jaws of hell opened and unleashed demons and beasts, or if the skies tried to bring them destruction - they still found a way to carry on. Garrus knew that Neal had always been a father; he had it engrained in his bones, the instincts and the actual want to be a parent to a boy he originally knew in the dreams. Now the boy was actual flesh incarnate and not only did he exist, but he was here. Garrus actually didn’t know how to act around kids. Of any age - though he guessed it helped Henry wasn’t young enough to where he had the risk to accidentally drop him on his head, either. His most recent exposure to the younger population had been at the Ranch, his coincidental run in with the infamous Emma Swan and that caused him to be a victim of a spitball. Henry was likely to be more polite. Instead of beer under his arm, he approached the door with bottled rootbeer. For all of them - he wouldn’t bring something Henry couldn’t drink, not when he was first meeting him. His knuckles hit the door, then his finger pushed the doorbell. “Housekeeping, por favor.” The sound of a kid running to the door could be heard, Henry having bolted up from doing boring things helping to paint his bedroom. They’d cleaned the walls, removed any dirt and residue, taped the trim and window and doorframe, primed, and were starting to brush where they couldn’t roll - it was a playful color scheme, mainly blue and yellow, and there would be a superhero and comic book theme, as Henry wanted. Lots of boom! and pow! splashed on there, with an outline of New York City, and Neal was planning to hire Jack and/or Rose to take care of the details because like fuck he could. It’d be Henry’s own space in the house Neena and Clarice left Neal, when the kid wasn’t sleeping on Emma’s lumpy sofa or lavishly luxuriating in Regina’s mansion. They didn’t have the arrangement worked down to an exact science yet, but Henry was fine with shuffling around - he was fine with everything in Orange County, in general, which was both relieving and concerning. Now, Henry was glad to get to go answer the door, paint splatters on him, blue smeared on his cheek, and he opened it with a big goofy grin on that face of his. “Hi! Are you the guy with the spaceship? Can I see it?” “Henry,” Neal chuckled, following the ever inquisitive child. He too was wearing his very best painting clothes. “Spaceship later. Hey, come on in - “ Garrus was waved inside. “Excuse the mess, we were deeply involved in home decor.” The guy with the spaceship. Spirits. They really weren’t kidding when they said he’d acclimate fairly well - and was it possible that someone who was barely in the teenage numbers could actually handle this entire fuckhole better than the actual adults? Yeah, actually. It was entirely possible. “It’s in space right now, but -” A nod to Neal at first, a motion of a quick greet, and he stepped in. “You’ll see it for the wedding. My wedding. I’m getting married in space, your dad would be a jerk if he didn’t bring you along.” Then everyone would be graced with the beauty that was the Normandy SR-2. It was actually a Turian design (his entire race was very military orientated, crafting vessels of war was their thing), but humans gained the reigns to it and kept that interesting fact hush-hush. “Henry, right? Garrus. Good to finally meet you - you’re sort of a legend around these parts.” Hey, he wasn’t wrong. Henry had been one of the biggest themes in Neal’s life, and now he was among the ranks. He set the pack of glass rootbeer down on the nearest surface void of ‘mess’ but it wasn’t bad, actually. “Figured you two could use a break. Or a hand. Drink and paint like men.” “Yeah!” Obviously, Henry was super excited to get to go on a real spaceship. His dad had the most awesome friends - he totally knew Wolverine too, like, the real Wolverine; living in Orange County was a dream come true for this kid. “Do I have to wear a suit? Wait, I’m a legend, really?” That was kind of flattering. Neal grinned in that crookedly impish way of his taking out three bottles of (root) beer, using the edge of the countertop to open them. There was an actual bottle opener, somewhere in the kitchen, but finding it required effort. “Ever since I first went to that carnival, yeah,” he confirmed. “Beer break sounds good though, doesn’t it? Garrus will tell you all about how he’s marrying Cinderella.” Henry took the bottle, dark eyes widening. “Wait! But you’re not Prince Charming, are you?” Damn. Someone was just a bundle of excitement, wasn’t he? “It’s pretty advanced technology, so no suits required. Or no space suits. We gotta wear suits by proxy,” he grinned, a bit fondly. Henry was instantly likeable. A strange personification of wonder and innocence, something they didn’t really have around these parts. He even had to pass Neal a look - no words with it - but the expression of he’s definitely your spawn was meant to be translated. Though they were lucky Garrus wasn’t in mid-sip at the question. “No,” was the immediate response, accompanied by a very resolute shake of his head, like the title of Prince Charming was something to be insulted by and, well, technically, from what Cindy had told him about this particular asshead, it was an insult. “No, unless there’s a version of Prince Charming that explores space and beyond - but really, no.” He’d love to say that Prince Charming was a complete dick, but that wouldn’t be really appropriate for someone his age, right? That’s what Garrus assumed anyway. Again, he wasn’t used to being around kids of any age. Sigh. “I’m actually - am supposed to be - an alien.” He had been one here, technically, for a couple a days and he was glad he wasn’t one permanently. The physiology wouldn’t work. Human food would do nothing for him and eventually, he’d die of starvation. At least this place showed him some semblance of mercy. Garrus chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll have to draw you a picture later.” Or he could Google himself. There was the little fact that their entire lives had been made into some kind of video game but he tried to not dwell on that very much. Henry pulled out one of the stools at the counter so he could sit, gangly pre-teen limbs getting comfortable. He was probably too messy to sit on the sofa, and Neal preferred to keep the house somewhat neat and tidy. The bottle was nursed, he cradled it in his hands - root beer was good, he liked root beer. Floats especially. Real beer he’d had a sip of once, and it was gross. It tasted like pee. “That’s so cool,” he was also clearly awed at the fact that he was speaking with an alien right now. “How come you don’t look like an alien? Or I guess like, we don’t actually know what aliens are supposed to look like. But some are humanoid, I bet.” “He’s the Batman of space,” Neal helpfully amended. Yep, Henry’s reaction definitely proved that he was in fact Cassidy’s spawn. No, he was glad he hadn’t been in mid sip for that declaration either. Would he ever get to drink his rootbeer at this rate, he wondered? “It’s true, some are of the humanoid variety - but let’s just consider me lucky. Don’t think I could survive this day and age with the kind I am; human food doesn’t sit well with Turians and I’d starve.” He forced himself to eat a damn cheeseburger when Halloween had cursed him into his alien-self, but it tasted like ash and it did nothing for him nutrition-wise - it actually made him more queasy than anything, but that could also be the curse of Burger King too. It was up in the air. Anyway, he’d take a seat next to the ever-curious Henry. And finally sipped his drink. Without spitting it up. “How’s the adjustment going? Your dad give you the grand tour around this place yet? Any Disney plans in the making?” Kids liked Disney, didn’t they? Sounded about right. Neal leaned on the counter, elbows resting there, watching Henry chat with his best Cuddlefish - the look in his eye distinctly amused. “Disney, yeah, I think there was some Disney talk,” he laughed. “Henry’s never been, right?” Mostly, Henry thought he was too mature for Disney, but he had to admit that he wanted to go on the cooler rides - like the roller coasters, and Pirates of the Caribbean. He’d just stay away from any Princess-themed things, that was all. “I wanna do the Sorcerer’s Workshop! It looks awesome,” he beamed, spinning on the stool, to and fro. “I wanna go to Knott’s Berry Farm too, and the beach to try surfing. But it’s been fun, I like it here. I mean, my dad knows so many cool people. And there’s magic.” He didn’t seem to be lying about that either; genuinely, he was enthused about his new home in Orange County - weird as it could be sometimes. There was magic, lots of it. Most of it over and beyond his head. Magic didn’t really exist in his dreams - though maybe the harnessing of dark matter into offensive attacks and defensive tactics could be considered the closest thing. The gift of biotics. He’d stick to what he knew; alien military strategy (with some of his own human experience), weapons and gun batteries, thanks. You couldn’t really get away from magic here. Not really. It was everywhere, and it sometimes made him feel incompetent. Not much he could do against it. He’d been exposed to the good and bad parts, though the bad stuck with him more than anything recently. It brought his thoughts briefly to Wisdom, and what magic had taken from him. “Yeah, you’ll definitely see a lot of magic type things around here - just make sure to be careful, and listen to your parents. Because when they say something’s not safe, it’s because around here it really isn’t.” There, sage advice from Uncle Garrus because he couldn’t emphasize caution enough. It’s good that Henry could easily adjust but sometimes, the things that happened were no joke. “You’ll fit right in, though. Welcome aboard.” A gentle clink from his bottle to Henry’s. “Uncle Garrus is right,” Neal echoed, backing up those claims, because he really didn’t want Henry exposed to everything - if shit hit the fan, as it was prone to do, then he was going to get his kid out of the warzone. Luckily, he had plenty of people he could trust to turn to when it came to leaving Henry with someone safe. “Your parents know best when it comes to...the weirdness.” Henry grinned, clinking his bottle against Uncle Garrus’s. He felt very grownup and like he was really drinking beer like a manly man! “I will!” he promised. “I wish I didn’t have to go to school too, but...” Well, he didn’t really mind it so much. Mostly he was nervous about starting somewhere new and meeting people he didn’t know. “Veterans when it comes to ‘the weirdness,” Garrus helpfully contributed. Henry was surrounded by people who knew the ups and downs of this place and, like family, always came together to help each other out when things got particularly rough. That was the silver lining. Solidarity in a place that continuously fucks you over, but something about it doesn’t let you leave. He found friends here, found love - there were good things about it sometimes. And, shit, yeah. School. Damn. Having Henry here was going to change Neal’s world, wasn’t it? School supplies and homework and student-parent teacher conferences. The thought of fatherhood almost gave him hives, just a bit. Mouth curved into a smirk, he glanced over to Neal. “Wait until he starts dating. And shaving.” There wasn’t any way Neal would leave either - he still remembered the conversation in the hospital after he had been shot, about roots digging in deep and they were there; nothing he or Garrus could do about it now. Nothing he wanted to do. He had his family, that was all he needed. The OC could do whatever it wanted, continue to fluctuate like it did, and he’d still stay. Sometimes, days were harder than others - especially after losing Lina - but he’d stick it out. “Dating?? Why do you have to bring that up?” he groaned, while Henry just laughed. He wasn’t in the ‘girls are gross’ stage anymore, but he wasn’t really interested in dating either. Had his nose too buried in comic books, i.e., puberty and hormones hadn’t really kicked in yet. But give it a year or so. Neal straightened up, draining his bottle. “Okay - “ Pointedly, he eyed the two worker bees. “Back to work. We gotta get some trim done before dinner.” “Can we order Chinese?” Henry asked hopefully. “Sure. No peanuts for Uncle Garrus though, he’ll swell up like a balloon.” “Thanks,” was his dry remark, and Neal was at the end of a deadpanned stare. Guess that disclaimer was important, should Henry ever get the brilliant idea to serve Garrus something with peanut butter or spirits forbid, mango (what was his life?). Chinese always got his vote anyway - seemed to be like the token thing to eat with Neal, so it was practically tradition at this rate. He gave Henry a pat on the back. “How about you go ahead and get things ready and we’ll join you in a second? Uncle Garrus needs to actually make sure your dad knows a thing or two about dating. Gotta make sure he passes down the wisdom right.” Says the main with two failed proposals and one successful marriage proposal during a demon fight, but let’s not get too judgey now. Dating?! That got Henry to pull a face - and he wasn’t really interested in his dad dating (because that was weird). He scurried off to the bedroom and went back to work on the trim that he and Neal had started before - it was outlined what he needed to do, and he couldn’t really screw it up so he just decided to amuse himself with that for the time being. “Okay, so wait, you have more advice for me?” Neal asked, lifting an eyebrow. “We’re going out Wednesday, me and Emma. I think I’m going to take her to a beer tasting room with the specially crafted stuff - it’s casual, and there’s food around there, and we can talk and not be sitting in silence the whole time?” Plus, they both liked beer. Win/win. “Nah,” Garrus grinned, finishing the rest of his bottle before dropping it into the trash can. “Honestly, you got this - if you take any serious advice from me you’ll accidentally call Emma’s hips ‘supportive’ when you mean something else and probably get hit.” Cassidy was a smooth talker, probably knew how to charm the pants off people better than most - literally, that’s what got him in this situation. Hands digging into his pockets, he motioned his head over to the bedroom in shambles. “He’s a good kid, Neal. You ready for everything fatherhood entails?” It was a massive change, a big responsibility for everyone involved in the parenting unit - which, to his knowledge, was unconventional but it worked. Supportive hips, oh, the memories. Neal laughed, shaking his head. “She tends to get me a little nervous, but I think for the most part I’ll avoid the verbal blunders.” Nervous only in a good way, of course. Like in a ‘I’m desperately in love with this woman’ sort of way. Fatherhood though, it really was a big deal. He felt like he was made for it, the more he considered everything - he biggest regret was that he hadn’t been around, hadn’t even known about Henry, but that was no one’s fault. And he’d been adopted into a good family; Garrus was right, he’d turned out well. “I’m definitely ready,” he exhaled in a whoosh, rubbing his jaw. “I wish...I’d been there, when he was younger, but I can just make up for lost time now. And I like it, you know? I like having the family. Him and his...two mom’s.” “Then you’ll do fine,” he assured, a hand going over his shoulder for that extra-encouraging squeeze, because Garrus believed in his Brofessor - if anyone was meant to successfully plow through fatherhood, it was Neal. “He likes you, seems to be in a good place now - and he looks happy.” So far it looked easy, but it was only the beginning. There’d be bumps and fights but that was family, wasn’t it? “Anyway -” A brotherly shove towards Henry’s new bedroom, since the kid was probably eagerly waiting for them to help finish. “Let’s go finish his room and take in the paint fumes.” |