Work Text:
Learning was easy. Unlearning is far harder.
On his days off, Ethan Clade visits his family. He kisses mother’s cheek, hugs his father. Their hearts beat out of sync these days, typically in all the right ways. But sometimes he sees the flinch.
He sees his father’s eyes glance away at rows of fields. He sees the movement of hand to neck, all so visible. And when Ethan notices, his father says I’m sorry. On the good days, Ethan just talks about something at work that makes him miss home, and farming.
On the bad days, Ethan responds.
“I’m sorry.” Searcher Clade says something his own father never could. And Ethan appreciates that.
“I know.” Ethan reassures, because trying is hard. After all, every time he tries not to say “It’s okay” he does a flinch of his own.
Healing is hard, but it’s happening.
Years later, Ethan holds his newborn child. Diazo kisses him on one side, and his father wraps an arm around him from the other. They watch the sunset outside of his childhood home.
“She’s beautiful.” Searcher grins with so, so much pride. Ethan knows that his father will be the grandfather of the year, and several years to come.
“I know.” Ethan says, staring lovingly at Diazo. His husband turns in for the night, joining Meridian at her kitchen sink.
Catching his attention, Searcher says, “Could be an adventurer.”
Smiling, Ethan adds, “Or a farmer.”
And he hears all three of their hearts beating, out of sync. A rhythm forms from it, and with each millisecond of silence comes a different beat to fill the gap the last left.
This, Ethan Clade decides, is a great legacy.