Red's had plenty of days to sit and mull things over, and he's had too many days where he can only sit and try to reason with his children or his wife, and both activities end in the same way; frustration.
From Abe's increasing wedding anxiety, to Liz's temperamental habits, to Trevor's backtalk, to Sierra's insistence that she be allowed to date, to Nuala's quiet-sometimes annoyingly so-murmurs that no one but Abe can hear, Red has his hands full, and no one seems to realize just how stressed he really is. There's an undercurrent of happiness, of course, because he knows that he's beyond lucky to have a family-a woman who loves him and children who do on most days and two amazing friends and a baby on the way-and a life that they've all built here, but the ghost at his back, the pressure that gets ever harder to bear, haunts his days and invades his nights, and only Liz can soothe it, with her gentle touches and soft murmurs.
He finds himself falling in love all over again, every time he looks at her with her smile-a thing that used to be almost impossible to find on her face, over a decade ago. A decade. It seems nearly impossible, to look back and find that thirteen years have come and gone since the Golden Army and B.P.R.D. and Manning, and the echo of orders and beeping comms and the clank of gears still follows his thoughts, a soft trail in his mind that fades out after a few moments.
To think that it's been so long, since their twins were huddled forms inside Liz's body, since Abe first laid eyes on Nuala, since they all left their one and only way of life for the unknown. It's baffling, and a bit crazy, and a whole lot satisfying-they made it.
And now, his best friend is just about ready to marry the one person Red had always hoped he'd find, and life, though troubling, seems almost perfect.
But Daaaad.
He winces, the memory of his and Sierra's argument still fresh in his mind, and pulls the tab on a can of beer, the habit not yet kicked, even after all these years.
Beside him, Abe makes a disagreeing sound, but it's muffled by the hands upon his face, and he pulls his head just far enough away from their hold to give Red what he thinks is a disapproving stare.
"You shouldn't be drinking that; it's hazardous to your health," Abe murmurs warningly, and Red smirks up at him, strewn out on the library's large entryway stairs, the top of which Abe is perched on, his bare feet absentmindedly tapping against the soft crimson carpet, always in tune with the music that drifts from the various speakers placed around the room.
Red stops just before taking a sip of the chilled alcohol, gazing around him to realize that Abe built this place to look almost exactly like the library back at the agency, and his red tail swishes lazily behind him. He frowns deeply, shaking his head with a heavy sigh.
"Trevor thinks he's got it all figured out, and Sierra…" The demon shivers involuntarily, and spots, in the corner of his eye, the slight upturn of Abe's mouth, and smiles in return, rolling his eyes. "Dating. Why in the hell would I let her do that? I mean, she's almost sixteen!"
Throughout his exclamation, Red's waving fist interrupts the calm swinging motion of the ancient rosary beads tied about his wrist, and a little bit of liquid splashes out of the can he holds, and he grimaces at it, hoping Abe doesn't notice the puddle sinking into his carpet. Abe blinks, completely unaware, gazing over at some unknown point in the room.
"She believes she can handle it," he observes quietly, and Red snorts, thinking of all the many faces that have hated him.
"But what if she can't? What if some jerk is mean to her, what if they hurt her feelings…or-hurt her." He slams his stone fist down on a step. "I won't let it happen, Abe. I just won't."
He gives his friend an imploring look before letting his eyes fall upon a small scar on the top of his shoulder, where a group of drunk men had followed him and Abe as they were walking, a broken beer bottle in one of the men's hands-Red had been too slow, then, and the regret lies heavy on his tongue.
"People are cruel. You know that better than any of us," he says gently, and Abe looks over at him with an empty expression, the only indication of any emotion at all being the telltale crinkle of the scar running down his blue cheek.
"But she doesn't know that, Red. And she never will, unless given the chance."
Gaping, Red stutters with disbelief, and shakes his head violently, raising his voice. "You don't mean-"
"All I'm saying is that, unless given the opportunity for exploration, Sierra will always yearn to do so. The only way to quell her desire to date is to let her," he explains slowly, and Red can't stop the flare of logic that takes hold of him and the imprint of worry deep in his gut that warns against the idea.
So I decided to continue it. xD But slowly.
Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated. ;)