Poe remembers that moment in the garden during the Festival of Light where he'd wished he could stay in Riverview. It still haunts him in odd moments, drives a dark spike of guilt into the heart of his resolve. He didn't have the reasons that someone like Karen had. He has every reason to go home.
Poe rests his forehead against John's chest, scared to look at him.
The next best thing.
Even that makes him feel a mix of warmth and fear. Someone who gets it. Someone whose scars say he knows the fight and its importance, whose stories support that. Someone who knows how much the sky means.
You lucked out, kiddo, his father's voice says, and Poe shivers.
He's not ready for this. He's not ready for forever, they can't even have forever. Not unless they both stay, and that isn't an option.
Normally it's so easy for him to live life in the moment, to act without thinking about the future or the consequences, but that's been harder lately. Even when living in the moment might be okay.
He doesn't ask John if the people he was with when the place blew made it. There are certain assumptions Poe makes when he hears us, then I. He knows how that story goes. He's lived it, too many times. ( Even one time was too many. )
He just wants to stay here, suspended in sunlight, with the murmur of traffic outside making the quiet of the bedroom seem like its own small world. Everything in balance. The both of them safe. ]
I'm-- [ Poe stops. It's a stupid thing to admit. It's a pointless thing to admit. He still wants John to know and he isn't sure why.
( This time he thinks of Finn, of that talk about being a person, about learning and the time it takes. ) ] I don't know how to do this.
[ That's a thousand times better than This scares me. ]
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Poe remembers that moment in the garden during the Festival of Light where he'd wished he could stay in Riverview. It still haunts him in odd moments, drives a dark spike of guilt into the heart of his resolve. He didn't have the reasons that someone like Karen had. He has every reason to go home.
Poe rests his forehead against John's chest, scared to look at him.
The next best thing.
Even that makes him feel a mix of warmth and fear. Someone who gets it. Someone whose scars say he knows the fight and its importance, whose stories support that. Someone who knows how much the sky means.
You lucked out, kiddo, his father's voice says, and Poe shivers.
He's not ready for this. He's not ready for forever, they can't even have forever. Not unless they both stay, and that isn't an option.
Normally it's so easy for him to live life in the moment, to act without thinking about the future or the consequences, but that's been harder lately. Even when living in the moment might be okay.
He doesn't ask John if the people he was with when the place blew made it. There are certain assumptions Poe makes when he hears us, then I. He knows how that story goes. He's lived it, too many times. ( Even one time was too many. )
He just wants to stay here, suspended in sunlight, with the murmur of traffic outside making the quiet of the bedroom seem like its own small world. Everything in balance. The both of them safe. ]
I'm-- [ Poe stops. It's a stupid thing to admit. It's a pointless thing to admit. He still wants John to know and he isn't sure why.
( This time he thinks of Finn, of that talk about being a person, about learning and the time it takes. ) ] I don't know how to do this.
[ That's a thousand times better than This scares me. ]