smilestopscars | A Room at the Arms Hotel, Saturday Morning

Ezra let Tiger finish his ungodly amount of animal proteins in peace, not counting the mandatory game plan talk about what they were doing next and what they'd be doing later.

But, eventually, there was a knock on the door to Kathy's suite.

Kathy opened the door, all smiles at the possibility it was another kid. It didn't dim any at seeing Ezra or Tiger, just shifted a bit, to something a little more fond.

"Hi," she said, to both of them. "Come on in, we've got food and folks aplenty."

"Hi," Ezra replied, with a smile that looked far easier than it was. "This is Tiger. Tiger, this is Kathy." He had no idea whether he'd know her already or not, because pushy prying hadn't really felt like the way to go.

Tiger's sullen and mumbly "Hi" didn't really settle that matter any.

And Kathy didn't gush over him, either, even though she kinda wanted to. Adorable children were her weakness.

And since pretty much every kid was adorable, it was a pretty debilitating weakness.

"Nice to meet you," she said, not minding his tone. It could be rough on a kid, showing up here. "Help yourself to whatever food you'd like. And if you're looking for Dante, he's right over there."

Tiger had already spotted Dante, too. With a glance up at Ezra (and a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder from Ezra), he slipped past Kathy into the room.

Ezra exhaled a very quiet and tiny sigh, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. "So," he said, quieter than before because this was private, "I smell a fox."

Kathy nodded, glancing over at Zeke. She knew he was as aware of his father as Ez was of him and that he hadn't come over already was probably a sign. "I'm terrified of what's going to happen when he wanders off onto the island," she said. "It's going to be havoc. He's the best parts of you tempered by the best parts of me, I think."

She had a feeling that it was Zeke she was going to have the hardest time saying goodbye to on Monday.

Yeah, Zeke was actively ignoring the door, about now, the same way he'd ignored this same scent when he'd been first making his way through the hotel corridors.

Ezra felt tired.

"I seem to remember him being a little more eager to see me, last time," he noted quietly. "Teen angst?"

It was never just that.

It was never just that.

"I don't know," Kathy said softly. "The conversation keeps getting mysteriously changed whenever I try to ask."

"Well. That's a good sign."

It was not, even if his sarcasm was on the soft side.

He wanted to sigh, but didn't. "This seems like something for my room," he said, instead. "No offense, but this place is a crowd."

"I was thinking the same, actually," Kathy admitted. "He might be willing to open up a little bit more when it's just family."

She raised her voice a bit, still not very loud, but she was pretty sure he could hear them anyway.

"Zeke? Would you come here, please?"

Could he pretend to have gone deaf? Probably not. Especially when he'd pretty much been listening in on their entire conversation. He'd tried not to. He hadn't wanted to, but it wasn't like he could block out his dad's voice.

A moment passed before he turned, though. He was slow about crossing the room - trying for casual but failing to hit it and anyway, there was little that was casual about the way he only barely glanced up at Ezra when he came to the door. And didn't say anything.

It looked like teen angst but felt like his throat was closing up.

Ezra was starting to feel a definite, impending sort of dread about this whole thing. The well-hidden analytical side of his mind was already whirring with possibilities, most of them centering on the Coterie and all the unpleasant things that were behind that door.

"Hey, Zeke," he said, trying for upbeat. "Want to take a minute somewhere where you're the rightful star of the show?"

Zeke didn't answer.

"C'mon, darling," Kathy said, slipping her hand through his and squeezing. Her voice was soft, not bothering to sound cheerful when he was so clearly not okay. "Let's go for a bit of a walk."

She was ready to let go of Zeke's hand the second he wanted it back - but this seemed like a moment where maybe having even a poor shadow of a mom might help.

She wasn't a poor shadow. Especially right now. Because right now, he was squeezing her hand, and keeping his gaze towards the floor, and shrugging like it was all 'whatever' to him.

To Ezra, he looked exactly like he had the first time he'd shown up, and had misspoken about the Coterie and then looked so worried about it. It squeezed at his heart. "Okay," he said. "This way."

He wasn't going to try and take anyone's hand. Just pushed away from the doorframe and turned so he could head back towards his room.

Kathy half-wanted to take his though. She could only imagine the dread and discomfort she'd be feeling right now, if their roles were reversed. And, shit, Ez had been dealing with other people's feelings about him so much recently -

She didn't try to talk the whole way to Ezra's room. Whatever was going on was too heavy and too private for the hallway.

Did it always feel this way, to be a parent? Feeling like your heart is breaking because your child was hurting?

Ezra wasn't sure he would've let anyone take his hand, anyway. He was on edge.

His room wasn't far away. He opened the door, then bowed as he gestured them inside. "Welcome to humble and very temporary abode."

And did Zeke kind of do his best to kind of put Kathy between himself and his dad as he passed through the doorway? You bet.

Ah, Zeke, you were killing her.

She walked into Ezra's hotel room, tugging Zeke gently over to the bed where they could sit together. She wasn't sure he'd stay - certainly wasn't going to force him to - but she wanted to be an emotional anchor for him when things got rough.

And from the looks of it, things were already pretty rough.

"C'mon, my love," Kathy said, brushing her fingers over Zeke's hand. "Please, tell me what's going on?"

Maybe if he focused on her, it'd be easier?

(Nothing could make this easier.)

Nothing could make this easier.

Zeke sat down, but only for a few seconds before he was back on his feet. And Ezra thought he knew exactly why: sitting down felt like letting your guard down, like not keeping all your possible exits open for a swift getaway. It was a fox way of thinking in a moment of crisis.

Incidentally, Ezra wasn't sitting down either. He was standing, at a respectful distance, trying to appear calm.

"Do we have to?" Zeke asked, with a flatness that was reminiscent, again, of Ezra at his worst. "Do we have to do this?"

Kathy tried not to flinch at that tone, but yeah, too many memories of hearing it. At her was bad. Because of her was worse.

"I...I think so, yes," Kathy said softly. "Because you're in pain and we don't know why. And if we don't know why, we can't mitigate it."

She was guessing that this wasn't really a fixable thing.

"I know that when you're hurt, your want to curl up and keep anyone from knowing that you're vulnerable," she said. "But sometimes what you need is to talk about it, get it out, and let the people who love you take care of you."

She was so, so off the mark, but Zeke didn't want to, couldn't tell her why that was. Even with his eyes to the floor, he could feel his dad watching him and he couldn't bear to look up.

He could barely bear to breathe in. Damn his senses.

"Whatever it is, we understand, I promise," Ezra tried, softly. "I --"

"No!" Zeke snapped, just to get him to stop talking.

"Zeke--!" Kathy wanted to ask what Ezra could have done to make him hate him so much but - no. That wasn't hate. And it wasn't really anger, either. That was pain, so much pain that she thought he might be nearly drowning in it.

Kathy looked at Ezra, a little bit helpless. She knew pain like Zeke had. But her methods of dealing it were so vastly different than his - he was too much like his father in that regard. She wanted to get up, hug him, kiss him, promise him that he was loved and wanted and precious.

None of that was what he needed right now. And she didn't know what was.

Edited 2019-04-16 17:43 (UTC)

It had sounded a whole lot like anger, if you asked Ezra. But he also figured that wasn't what it was. Not really, not entirely.

A tense, quiet moment passed by. Ezra watched Zeke, wanting to give him room to do anything that he felt like doing, whether it was more yelling or something else. But Zeke was back to just staring at the floor.

So Ezra spoke again. "Zeke." His tone was soft. "Come on." No pushing, not even pleading. Just... soft. "I'm twenty-two. I'm here. Whatever's happened, hasn't happened yet."

He paused.

Slowly, Zeke looked up. It was such an unsteady and hesitant thing that Ezra barely dared to continue. But he did. "If it's a Coterie thing, or something else, a bad reaction, anything..."

It hadn't happened yet.

He paused again, looking at Zeke.

Zeke was staring back at him, his expression beginning to distort with something he was desperately holding back. And Ezra took about half a step towards him - and Zeke surged forward, a literal blur for a split second, almost toppling Ezra over with the suddenness of his clinging. And -- things clicked, and Ezra just knew. He knew what had happened.

Shit.

Kathy stood, awkward and hesitant. This, this desperate clinging, like it was the only thing holding you together, that she recognized. But this was between Zeke and his dad and the last thing she wanted was to interfere.

Instead she quirked her eyebrows at Ezra, watching the expressions shift in his face, since Zeke's was buried.

"Ez..." she murmured.

Ezra just did his best at conveying a shrug with just his face. It was kind of a brief eyebrow-raise, above eyes that looked resigned.

It was what it was.

His arms were tight around Zeke.

And Zeke was quaking, his face buried against Ezra's shoulder. Tear-streaked against his best efforts, but his best efforts weren't any match for his dad being here. His scent, his warmth, his everything.

Zeke's knuckles were white with how he was gripping Ezra's shirt.

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