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[darkov]

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latest status update 3/6/2018

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[darkov]

Like Christmas?

[another one? Martin had no idea, and is a bit surprised by that. then again, he hadn't been going to the Endeavor Center with as much frequency to hear of it; he assumes it'd be like the way the kids buzzed about Christmas.]

[killtime]

Kind of.

[ She squints a little, like even she can't quite see how she's going to get herself out of this hole she's begun to dug. Probably just going to have to keep digging. Good thing Martin can't see her face from behind her. Then he might be clued in that she doesn't really know what she's doing here. ]

It's called "Father's Day."

[darkov]

...

[that certainly gives Martin pause in many senses of the term: his fingers linger in the threaded lengths of her hair as his mind juggles that phrase about in his head, bouncing it around the various presumptions and worries that spring forth.]

What does it... [he hesitates at the weird crack his voice does, swallowing.] I mean, what is usually done?

[killtime]

[ That's a good ass question.

After a little bit: ]

Not really sure. Don't remember my father anymore.

[ She thinks back on what Apollo said he was doing with his son. ]

I think you're supposed to just... Go to dinner, maybe. Give him gifts.

[darkov]

Oh.

[that...seems harmless enough. but having the label of father attached to it already makes it more stressful by the second, and Martin feels his heart starting to beat a little faster the more he thinks on it.]

Do you think that'd...make him happy?

[to be appreciated in that way? would it be too off-putting? strange? even if he and Andy were the ones who approached Martin with this proper formation of a family, it iddn't come with any real dramatic shifts of their roles or titles that changed the day-to-day.

not 'til this suggestion, anyway.

and anyway, Andy affirms up and down that Martin is her son -- that word, that actual word is the one she uses. Rex...doesn't do that. so that must mean it's different, right?]

[killtime]

[ And that's the trick, isn't it? It would hardly be unusual for them to eat a meal with Rex. Or to give him little tokens of their appreciation. There's just something implied about doing it today, specifically. Today of all days. That would mean some kind of acknowledgement. Or confirmation. Like if Andy were to try and celebrate Valentine's Day with the man.

It's complicated. Martin has a father. Or had one. A biological father. And they've used any number of words to describe their roles in Martin's life now — but "father" and "mother" somehow feel weighty. They can't be forced on Martin. ]

Honestly, I don't know. Clones don't have parents. Maybe it wouldn't matter. [ Though deep down, she thinks he might take some pride in it. That he might be moved, maybe because clones don't have fathers of their own. ] If it feels right to you, we can do it. If not, we can forget I even brought it up.

[darkov]

[Martin's fingers leave her hair at last, himself slumping back into the cushion behind him.

if it feels right to him? how would he know? it isn't about him, it's about Rex. and he doesn't know...if that would be right for him.]

...When...when you and Rex got those papers, the adoption ones. It was for the government stuff, you said? Right? [he frowns at her.] That's what Rex meant, right?

[and...anything more would be assuming too much. right?]

[killtime]

[ She can feel his hands withdrawing, but she still doesn't turn around to look at him. Maybe because she isn't sure what she'll see exactly, if she looks him in the face. Maybe because she's not entirely sure what her own face looks like. This isn't a territory that she's overly familiar with. In fact, it's the exact kind of territory she's generally tried to avoid. ]

...It was for legal purposes, sure. [ She exhales. ] But Martin. We wouldn't have cared about that if we didn't already think of you as somehow ours.

[ She's let that become too obvious. How much she thinks of him as hers. Her son. When they shared that dream, when she held his small body to her chest and screamed at the ghosts of his past... ]

[darkov]

[he can't really contest that, not really. not with how hard Rex has fought for him -- trekking hundreds of miles to find him, the contingencies put in place. promises made and kept all this time.

this honestly shouldn't be an issue at all. except...it is. it's a matter of how the word father paints pictures in Martin's mind. before coming here, a father and mother were the ones who physically made you. the rest was...it wasn't under the umbrella of those terms.

it's so different here, and not just among the three of them. he's learned about the different family dynamics of others -- of kids and teens at the Endeavor center: some have multiple sets of parents, others have only one or none...it's all over the place.

it's possible he could be overthinking this, but...what if Rex is, too?]

Clones...don't have parents, though. So...so wouldn't it be...weird? I, I don't know. If I call him something that I...I called my own...father once, wouldn't that be bad? Because of what happened...

[that's the other thing he's struggling with. the word father itself is tied up so horribly to Peter. everything about that is...rough.]

[killtime]

[ She's not the right person for this conversation, she's sure of it. Hell, it's not like she even remembers what it's like to have parents anymore. She can't even remember their faces. It was too long ago. Another lifetime. What does she know about fathers? She hasn't even talked to Rex about this — another thing they've left unspoken, as is their way. ]

It might be weird. [ She can't guarantee that it wouldn't be, and she's not in the habit of sugar-coating, not even with Martin. ] But we're already in this together, trying to figure out how to be a family. Or even figuring out what it fucking means for us.

[ She pauses. Funny how she speaks a hundred languages but struggles to find the words to talk about this. ]

Rex isn't the father you had back home. It's okay, if you want to think of him as your dad. It doesn't mean the same thing will happen again.

[darkov]

[Martin frowns deeply. he's not sure he's glad or worried that Andy can pick up on his concerns with so little spoken now. it has to be for the better, surely, but...knowing all those bad things are known and even felt outside of himself is...strange. strange to consider.

it must be how Rex would think this sort of talk is strange, right?

he exhales through his nose.]

It doesn't...mean the same thing. Here. As it did in compound...

It's different here.

[killtime]

Yeah.

[ And maybe she hasn't asked so many questions as the others have about Martin's past but... She remembers the dream. And she remembers being there, at the compound, when it was here in this dimension. She remembers what they talked about. And it is different, what he has with her and Rex. She's determined to make sure of it. ]

You can make it mean something new.

[darkov]

[that's a daunting suggestion. dictating words and terms for other people, especially ones who mean the world to him?]

I think...I mean...only if that's what he wants. Too. I mean. It'd be bad to just...say it...

[killtime]

[ She couldn't honestly say that she knows how Rex would feel or what he might want. But she knows that it was Rex who came to her about adopting Martin. She knows that he loves Martin just as much as she does, in a way that's enduring and real. And she's seen them together countless times — looking, to her eye, as much like a father and son as any.

Maybe the words they use don't matter so much. They're not your typical family, even if they've found some semblance of normalcy in this place — but maybe there's some value in validating it all, somehow. Just like when they signed those adoption papers. It hadn't changed their day to day ritual much. But there was some kind of reaffirmation. Of how important they are to each other. Some tangible proof of it all. And that isn't insignificant.

Finally, with a little exhale: ]

Well. We don't have to do anything today. [ Honestly, it might be a relief not to. ] But you could ask him. It wouldn't be wrong to ask.

[darkov]

[it's a relief to be absolved of immediate action, but the anxiety of having to press the topic at all will linger well after this. he doesn't know how it could all go wrong, just that, somehow, if there was a way to make it bad? he'd find a way.

in an exhale:] Ye-yes...I mean, I guess so.

[killtime]

[ In a way, maybe it's a relief for her too. She's fumbling her way along with this, blind leading the blind. It's been so long, since she had a family like this. So long that she can hardly even remember it anymore. Mostly she remembers that it was good for a long time — and then it was gone, and it hurt.

It's easier not to think about it. And it's a bit of hypocrisy too — her, telling Martin to define things when she's refused to, time and time again. ]

Okay. [ She glances at him, reaching out to give his knee a little squeeze. ] I'm trying to figure this shit out too, kiddo, same as you.

[darkov]

[he frowns down at her hand, comforted but still troubled. now he has the anxiety of anticipation and speculation to deal with.]

I guess, but. I don't...want to mess anything up accidentally.

[killtime]

You won't.

[ She looks up at him from her spot on the ground, tilting her head to meet his eyes so he can see that she's sincere. ]

Rex loves you. Whatever the answer to this question is, that isn't going to change. [ Then, with a twinge of wryness: ] I've said plenty of awful things to him, fucked up more than once too — and he still lets me hang around.

[darkov]

[Martin's face grows red, feeling a swell and ache in his chest. it's...so good and...scary to be loved. it's scary to hear it so often -- as if having to be reminded is some show of how poorly he accepts it.

sometimes people just need to hear it, though. it's not abnormal. it's...frankly, something most normal than anything else.

he exhales slowly, rubbing at the side of his face.]

Y...You're right. Sorry. I'll...I'll ask.