Family Matters

Charles lies stretched out across Sarah's bed, his feet hanging over the edge. She laughs and throws a stuffed animal at him, but he catches it, cradling it to his chest before pulling it back to look at. It's the purple and white rhinofelinus he won for her at the carnival last spring. He smirks, tossing it back at her, and it hits her in the head, earning him a dirty look.

He flops over to his back, tucking his hands under his head. "I'm telling you, he likes you."

"Whatever." Sarah snorts, pushing her hair over her shoulder and turning back to the closet. "Hunter's a total jerk." She pulls a sweater out of her closet and holds it up to her chest, looking in the mirror on the back of her door. Scrunching up her nose, she sticks the sweater back in the closet and rifles around some more.

"Uh huh." He lifts his eyebrow, catching her gaze in the reflection. "Then why are you up here digging through your clothes looking for the perfect thing to wear?"

She scoffs, narrowing her eyes at him and sticking out her tongue, bringing a smile to his face. "Shut up and help me!"

Chuckling, he sits up and rolls over, standing up from the bed. He goes to her closet, nudging her out of the way and starts flipping through the clothes hanging on the rack. He stops when he comes across a purple shirt with some sort of silver design emblazoned across the front, the hem hangs at a sharp, asymmetrical angle. Turning to her, he holds it against her, gaze roaming over the shirt with his lips pursed.

"You like Ramel, don't you?" Sarah asks, her voice low.

Charles glances up at her, meeting her bright, blue-eyed gaze. He shrugs. "Maybe." Pulling the shirt away, he turns, tossing it to the bed before looking back in the closet.

"But you like Jennifer, too?"

The confusion in her voice makes him snort. He grabs a pair of black pants he's seen her wear before, ones cutting off mid-calf, and tosses them at the bed, too. "Yeah. So?"

"What if … what if I like girls, too?"

Charles freezes, ice water flushing through his veins. He turns back to her, gripping her shoulder maybe a little tighter than he means to. "Sarah, you can't ever let Dad hear you say that. Ever. Do you understand?"

She winces, but he sees the flare of stubbornness cross her face. "But what if I tell him and he realizes it's no big deal? Maybe then he'll—"

"No." He clenches his teeth, giving her a sharp shake of his head. "That's not how it'll work. He's not going to stop treating me like shit just because you tell him you're into girls. Shit, Sarah, if anything, it might just be the thing to make him start hitting you, too. Just don't."

"Charles?" Dad's voice carries upstairs followed by the door slamming closed. "Where the hell are you? I thought I told you to pick this crap up? Goddamn useless piece of shit."

Sucking in a deep breath, he lets go of his sister and starts to turn to the door, but she stops him grabbing his arm. He glances back over his shoulder at her. They both know what's coming.

Terror fills her eyes, tears starting to well up. "Don't go," she whispers. "Hide in here, I'll tell him you're not here."

He shakes his head, wrenching his arm free from her grasp. "That'll just piss him off more. Stay in here, get ready for your date."

Even scared, she still huffs and rolls her eyes. "It's not a date!"

He gives her the best smile he can muster and turns his back on her before she realizes how hard his heart is pounding in his chest. Leaving her room, he pulls the door closed behind him. She doesn't need to hear this.

"Charles!" Judging by the sound of Dad's voice, he's already good and drunk.

Charles stops at the top of the stairs, sucking in a deep breath, trying to find the courage he needs to make his way down them and to the living room.

"Where the fuck are you, you little—" Dad appears at the foot of the stairs, angry glower finding Charles, making his heart stop for just a second. "Get your faggot ass down here and clean up this Goddamn living room! Now!"

Charles stands there a second longer, paralyzed, unable to make his feet move, even though he knows it'll just make it worse. Dad starts storming up the stairs, making Charles flinch. He hears the door open behind him, and he turns to look. Sarah's standing there watching the trainwreck about to happen, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Sarah, don't …."

It's all he has the chance to say before Dad's at the top of the stairs, slamming his hand down on the back of Charles' neck. It makes him tense, shoulders drawing up around his neck as if it will help at all. Dad's fingers tighten, already digging into Charles' muscles hard enough to hurt. He'll have bruises by morning. Maybe worse.

"Stop!" Sarah yells.

"Mind your business," Dad says, starting to drag Charles back down the stairs, bruising grip on his neck.

He starts to stumble, but Dad only grabs him tighter, hauling him back to his feet and shaking him like a rag doll. They get about halfway down and he throws Charles the rest of the way. Charles slams against the wall at the foot of the stairs, landing hard against his shoulder, his head bouncing off the wood with a sickening, hollow thunk.

Scrambling for purchase, Charles fights to stay on his feet, but before he can clear his head, he feels his dad close a hand around the back of his neck again. He doesn't mean to, he knows it's only going to earn him rougher treatment, but he can't help it, he struggles against Dad's grip, digging at Dad's hand and arm with his fingers, flailing out with his fists. Dad grunts and drags him into the living room before shoving him forward, sending him crashing into the back of the couch.

Charles has just enough time to curl into a ball before the first blow lands, his dad's boot catching his forearm where it covers his head, making the bone snap with an audible crack.

Charles jerked upright on the bed, hands pressed into the mattress behind him. Sweat trickling down his spine, his heart slammed against his chest. Feeling confused and frantic, even as the dream slipped away from him, his gaze darted around the room, searching for the one person who'd ever made him feel safe. Ares wasn't in bed next to him, though, and he wasn't anywhere in the bedroom. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing himself the rest of the way up. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he reached out and threw back the sheets tangled around his legs.

He stood up and made his way to the bathroom, flinching when he turned on the light. He went to the sink, splashing cold water on his face and neck, pulling in slow, deep breaths while he fought off the last of the fear still making his fingers shake. Glancing in the mirror, he cringed away from his own, deathly pale reflection and pushed away from the sink. Stopping to grab a pair of sweats off the bathroom floor, he pulled them on before going in search of Ares, expecting to find the turian out on the balcony.

The balcony door remained closed and locked, though, and Ares wasn't anywhere else in the dark apartment. Crushed, Charles went back to the bedroom and grabbed his cigarillos before returning to the front to sit on the couch. Eezo woke up, letting out a whining yawn and crawled across the cushions on her stomach to lay her head in his lap. Lighting a cigarillo, he pulled the ashtray over to sit on the couch next to him and leaned back, letting his hand drift over her fur.

Unable to help himself, he sat there in the dark, smoking and replaying the nightmare over and over in his head. He should've fought harder. Should've … fuck. He should've done something, anything to stand up for himself. He was such a fucking coward, just letting the old man throw him around like that all the Goddamn time. Eezo yawned again, scooted closer to him, and turned her head, licking his bare stomach. He looked down at her, only the whites of her fur really visible, and gave her a sad smile.

"He's dead, Eezo. My dad's dead. I helped kill him, and it felt really, really good." He sighed, tilting his head back against the couch and took a deep drag from his cigarillo. Blowing the smoke back out toward the ceiling, he ruffled the dog's head. "So why the fuck can't I get past this shit?"

The dog let out a soft yip, rolling over to her back and gnawing on his fingers. He scoffed, reaching down to scratch her stomach. He couldn't remember all of the specifics of the dream, but he felt fairly certain the whole thing didn't go down exactly as he dreamt. Still, it seemed close enough for his arm to ache with phantom pains. Lifting his arm, he brought it closer, trying to see the faint, white line trailing over his skin where the doctors needed to actually go in surgically and set the bones, but his eyes couldn't make it out in the dark. Hell, it was hard to see in the light. That was the thing about his dad. He might beat the ever living fuck out of Charles, but he always made sure the doctors fixed him up real good, leaving little to no sign with everything said and done. His mom always said it was because he felt bad for what he did, but Charles thought it had more to do with making it easier for everyone else to forget what he'd done.

Eezo squirmed until he brought his hand back to her stomach, scratching his fingertips against the thin fur. Sarah would've loved Eezo. She would've squealed and scooped the dog right up the second Charles brought Eezo home. He snorted softly, the image reminding him of Lindsey. Truth be told, Charles might've been damn close to squealing and scooping up the pup when they found her at the pet store. If Ares hadn't been there with him, huffing and puffing the entire time, rumbling about how he didn't understand the attraction humans had to animals that weren't for food, Charles very well might've squealed at least a little. Especially when Eezo bounded right over to him, rearing back on her hind legs to press her little paws against his knees as if she already knew she was going home with him.

One of the guys he used to turn tricks for owned an Alaskan Malamute. Charles always felt bad for the dog … he couldn't remember the dog's name, but he knew it was male. The guy who owned him, Rico, found it funny to blow pot smoke in the dog's face. It pissed Charles off, but he didn't go there to comment on what Rico chose to do with his pets. If he wanted to get paid, his job was to keep his mouth shut and take it up the ass or maybe suck the guy off so he could afford to eat the next day.

Finishing his cigarillo, Charles lit another off the last before putting it out. He wondered where Ares went, and when he'd be coming back. Charles didn't really want to go back to bed without him. He hated how vulnerable the turian made him feel, but at the same time, he loved he could be vulnerable with Ares. At least when it really counted. Ares might talk a lot of shit and nitpick, but when Charles needed something, Ares didn't really hesitate to give it to him—the best he was able. Even with as grumpy as he'd been since he showed back up, Charles knew if Ares had been there when he woke up from the nightmare, Ares would've wrapped his arm around Charles and pulled him in closer, making the deep, rumbling noise he used to calm Charles.

So where the fuck is he?

About the time Charles finished his second cigarillo, he heard the door open and turned his head to look. A few seconds later, Ares appeared, but he walked right past Charles, headed straight for the balcony. Charles knew Ares had to know he sat on the couch, but Ares didn't acknowledge him in the slightest. Rolling his head along the back of the cushion, he followed Ares' movements as the turian stepped out on the balcony and lit a cigarette, remaining eerily silent, not even letting out his usual rumble of a sound when he took his first, long drag. It made Charles feel uneasy in a whole new way.

He eased Eezo off of him and stood up, setting the ashtray on the coffee table and stuffing his pack of cigarillos and lighter in his pocket before following Ares out on the balcony. He watched Ares for a moment, the distant, shockingly sad look on his face making Charles' heart sink down into the pit of his stomach. Ares still didn't speak, didn't even turn his head to look at Charles despite his staring.

Reaching into his pocket, Charles got out another cigarillo and lit it before turning to rest his hip against the railing, facing Ares. He swallowed, keeping his voice soft and low when he asked, "Ares … what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing. I'm not stupid, you've been off since you got here."

Ares blew out smoke and leaned over, forearms braced against the railing, dropping his head. "My family's on the Citadel …."

Charles let that sit between them for a moment, knowing full well the weight of what it meant for Ares. He hadn't told Charles a whole lot about his family, but enough to know they thought he was dead. And a traitor. He wanted them to keep thinking he died because he thought it was safer for them and the only way he could protect them. But Ares missed them, ached to see them again, just the same as Charles did with Sarah and his mother.

After a minute, Charles sucked in a deep breath and turned, mimicking Ares' posture. "Have you seen them yet?" He knew Ares wouldn't announce himself to his family, but if they were around, chances were he'd at least laid eyes on them.

Ares took a long drag, letting the smoke drift out between his teeth at the sides of his mouth, flowing around his mandibles. "Yeah."

Charles smoked in silence for a bit, his thoughts leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, but finally, he gave voice to them anyway, "You sure you want to be here right now? It can't make it any easier for you." He didn't want Ares to leave, but if Ares needed to, Charles would understand. Still, it'd suck.

"I know." Ares' voice sounded flat as he looked out over the Citadel. "But I feel like I have to be here." He let out a low, distraught hum. "My younger sister is getting bonded."

Charles wondered for half a second if Ares already looked into his sister's fiancé to decide whether or not the man was good enough for her, but then he figured Ares probably did the second he learned of the bonding. Humming, he moved down closer to Ares and settled his hand on the small of the turian's back. "You're going to be there, aren't you?"

"Maybe," Ares said, taking a deep drag and letting the smoke drift out as he spoke again, "They're having a human-esque ceremony outside in one of the Presidium parks."

Confused, Charles arched a brow. "She's marrying a human?"

Huffing a humorous, almost dismissive laugh, Ares dropped his head again. "Maela's always into trying new, interesting things. It's not a big surprise she'd be interested in the grandeur of human weddings." He took a drag from his cigarette and added, "I looked it up on the extranet when I saw them decorating the venue."

Charles rubbed absently at Ares' back, taking a drag and letting it back out with a heavy breath. "So … what do we know about the guy? He good enough for her, or are we planning his demise?"

Ares gave him a distracted sounding rumble, taking a few drags from his cigarette before responding, "No. He's good for her. Former military, now a teacher for younger turians." He shrugged. "Teaches mathematics in Cipritine, close enough to home that Maela can still be with my parents."

Charles nodded. "Good." He fell silent for a minute, then looked back up at Ares. "You want me to come with you?"

Taking a deep breath, Ares dropped his shoulders. "You won't see much from where I plan to be." So, he'd already made plans but still wasn't decided on whether or not to actually go? It sounded like he was still trying to talk himself into it … or out of it.

"I wouldn't be there to see them," Charles said, giving Ares a soft smile. "I'd be there for you." He hesitated when Ares looked down at him, not making a sound. "But … if you'd rather do it alone, that's alright."

"No," Ares said, looking utterly deflated as he looked back out over the balcony and took a long pull from his cigarette. "No, it's not that. I'm still deciding if I even want to see it. My entire family will be there, from my parents and my sisters to my distant relatives. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents …." Waving a hand, he trailed off.

"Well … do you think you'd regret it more later if you don't go?" Charles raised his brow with the question even though Ares wasn't looking at him.

Ares growled softly. "I don't know. I could either regret not seeing it, or I could fucking hate that I broke my one rule and watched. And I'm not even going to be there, so I don't even get the fucking benefit of seeing them up close, of talking." A sound somewhere between a whimper and a broken keen moved through him, brief, but enough to tear at Charles. "Of letting them know I'm alive and not the traitor the Hierarchy made them believe I am."

Charles stayed quiet for a few seconds, his heart aching for Ares. He wished he had the opportunity to watch Sarah grow up and get married, even if only from a distance. He didn't say it to Ares, though, knowing it'd just sound selfish, and he didn't want to make it about him. "Is it really breaking your rule if you don't go near them? I mean … the Citadel's a big place."

Chuffing, Ares glanced at him with a lifted brow plate. "Tell me, does one smoke not lead to more? Just one more to feed that urge?"

"Ah." Charles understood the real issue.

If it wasn't really about breaking rules but the temptation it might create, then Ares already struggled with a new addiction. He saw his family on the Citadel by fluke, but it hooked him and he already needed his next fix.

Charles sucked in a deep breath. "I'm maybe not the best to preach about willpower and not giving into urges. I guess only you can know whether it'd be too much for you or not. If you decide to go, though, if you need someone to help talk you down … I'll do my best. But if you need someone to talk you out of going … I'm not really sure I'm the man for that one." He hated admitting it, but it was true. If he were in Ares' shoes, he'd sure as hell go, consequences be damned.

Ares hummed, not answering as he flicked his cigarette over the balcony. Pulling his pack out, he stuck a new one between his mouth plates and lit it. After tucking his lighter away, he opened his omni-tool. Charles watched as he slowly flipped through pictures of a group of turians in a fancy looking park, some of them with the same silvery shade of Ares' plates.

"Which one is Maela?" Charles asked, leaning closer for a better look.

The whole moment made him feel so much, it was overwhelming. He felt Ares' pain and grief, wanted to comfort him and make it better, even if he felt clueless as to where to even begin. More than that, he felt like he needed to soothe Ares. But he also felt warm and a little giddy inside, knowing it was a really big fucking deal for Ares to not only be talking to Charles about his family but showing him pictures, too.

Ares pointed to a young woman with gray plates, wearing a bright, yellow dress. It kind of looked like something Charles saw human women wearing during the hotter months back on Shanxi. Her attention seemed intently focused on a bouquet of flowers, her hands picking at them, probably rearranging them. She had such a huge, warm smile on her face, and her posture radiated with so much happiness, it was almost painful for Charles to look at.

Swallowing back a fresh wave of grief—something he felt pretty sure came as much from Ares as himself—Charles leaned into Ares a little more. "She's pretty. Looks really happy."

"She probably doesn't even remember me." Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Ares stared at the picture. "She wasn't even in basic when I died."

Charles hated it when Ares referred to his death. He understood why Ares thought of the fire as dying, but every time he said it, it just left Charles cold inside. He didn't know Sirus Vakarian, he knew Ares, and when Ares said he died … well, the images it brought to mind felt like someone ripped his soul out of him and crushed it right in front of his face.

He took a deep breath. "Basic starts at fifteen, right? How much younger was she? Seems like she'd be old enough to remember."

Ares didn't respond beyond a shrug as he changed the picture to Maela talking to a turian in C-Sec blues. It was clear the officer wasn't there on business by how close he stood to Maela and the smile on both of their faces. Charles squinted at the picture, something about the C-Sec guy pulling at the back of his mind.

When the memory snapped into place, he huffed and pointed at the turian. "I've met him before. He's come in once or twice when some asshat was causing problems at the store."

"He's my cousin," Ares said, letting out a harsh snort. "More like a brother. He was more than a bit younger than me, but it was hard to separate us once we had some grand scheme in mind. One of our favorite things to do was one-up one another."

Charles smiled at the idea, trying to imagine Ares as a kid way back before life reamed him. "He seemed like a decent guy, a good cop. Which is saying a lot, since most of the time C-Sec seems full of assholes."

"No doubt he's in C-Sec because of his dad," Ares said, taking a drag and letting it out through the sides of his closed mouth again. "He'd make a better Spectre, but my uncle would never have it."

Humming, Charles thought it over, realizing he didn't really have a clue what made a good Spectre. "Kind of weird having law enforcement for family when you're an assassin, but given C-Sec is full of turians …." He reached into his pocket, digging out another cigarillo to light off of the first one before pulling away from Ares to snuff the butt out in the ashtray. "I'm sorry you can't talk to them. I'd have given anything … I wish there was a way for you to have both, you know? Have your family know you're still around, know the truth, and keep them safe."

Ares gave him a sad sounding rumble. "It's better for them. They trust the Hierarchy. Hell, my mom was from a political family and my dad was military for most of his life. To ruin that trust … and not even be able to keep them safe?" He sighed, taking a couple of drags off his cigarette before saying, "It's not worth it for them."

Charles let out a sigh, the sound every bit as sad as Ares' rumble. "I know."

He reached up, tugging at Ares' neck a little, trying to get the turian to bend down so he could press their foreheads together. Ares slowly dragged his gaze away from the Citadel, turning to look down at Charles before bending enough for him to make contact. Pressing his head against Ares', he slid his hand around to cup Ares' face, brushing his thumb over the turian's mandible.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "No matter what you decide, though, I'll do whatever I can to help."

Ares nodded his head against Charles', thrumming softly as he closed his eyes. "When I decide, I'll let you know."

Charles held him there for a few moments, wishing he had the words to tell Ares how much he meant to him. He'd do anything for Ares, he only had to ask. He let his hand drop down to Ares' keel so he could pull away when he wanted to and said, "You should get some sleep."

Ares stayed quiet for a moment, his head still against Charles' before he opened his eyes and turned enough to look sideways at the Citadel. Nodding, he stood and flicked his cigarette over the balcony. "You coming?"

The memory of his nightmare flashed through Charles' mind, but he swallowed and nodded. Taking one last drag off his cigarillo, he put it out and followed Ares back inside, locking the door behind them.

Ares was gone again when the alarm woke Charles. He groaned, rolling over to shut it off before turning back to shove his face into Ares' pillows, pulling the blankets up over his head even as Eezo scrambled up on the bed to climb on top of him. He groaned again, working his arm out from under the covers to wrap around the dog and drag her back under, snuggling her in against his side. Eezo squirmed around in his grip until she reached his face, licking furiously at his throat and chin when he tilted his head back to stop her from licking his lips.

After a minute of refusing to accept reality, he let Eezo go and threw off the blankets, climbing out of bed. He glanced in the living room, not seeing Ares anywhere, and the balcony door was shut tight. He figured as much. He made his way back to the bathroom and started the shower before taking a piss. He left the bathroom door opened a crack to keep Eezo from scratching at the door and got inside the shower, letting out another groan as the hot water washed over him. Eezo poked her nose into the shower, and he splashed water at her, making her shake her head to fling it off before disappearing again.

He finished up and got out, drying off before brushing his teeth. He made his way back to the bedroom to find Eezo rooting around under the blankets, and he laughed. Ares would probably throw a fit if he'd been there to see it, but oh well. He got dressed and chased Eezo out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Dumping some cereal into a sandwich bag, he grabbed a bottle of Paragade from the fridge and found Eezo's leash.

He had to put it all back down again to get the squirming dog to sit still long enough to get her leash on her, but finally, once Eezo was situated, he grabbed his stuff and headed for the door. They made their way to the gardens, and Charles let her off her leash. He spotted Lindsey right away, and she waved at him from her spot over by the flower beds, down on her hands and knees, gloved hands digging through the dirt. She shifted her attention to Eezo as the dog made a beeline for her. Charles smiled and crossed over to a bench a few feet away from the pair, opening his Paragade and taking a drink before picking at his cereal.

Lindsey pulled off her gloves, tossing them on the ground and then shooing Eezo away from them while she dug in her pocket. She pulled out a package, which instantly drew Eezo's attention, and made Charles snort.

"Sit," Lindsey said, making her voice marginally more stern.

Eezo barked, wagging her tail and pushing up into Lindsey's face. Charles chuckled, and Lindsey cast him a playful glare over her shoulder. He shrugged, grinning and popping cereal in his mouth.

She huffed, turning her attention back to Eezo. "Eezo, sit." She put her hand on the dog's backside and urged her down. When Eezo finally got the hint and sat—for a whole two seconds—Lindsey opened the package and gave the dog a treat. "Good girl," she cooed, stuffing the treats back in her pocket and taking Eezo's head between her hands, leaning down to rub her forehead against the dog's.

"You're good with her," Charles said, in a bit of a better mood and more up for conversation than the day before. "Do you have dogs of your own?"

"No," she said, glancing at him again. "The place I live doesn't allow pets." She huffed, blowing her bangs out of her face. "I've been thinking about moving, though. Now that I've got a job that pays better, I might actually be able to afford to move."

He grunted, and then, out of curiosity, he asked, "How much better?"

Lindsey turned a little, sitting flat on the grass and drew her knees up, grinning at him. "Why? Thinking about quitting, too?"

He snorted and shook his head, flashing his teeth at her with a smile. "What? And make Irene's life easier? Please."

She tilted her head back and laughed, dark hair trailing down almost to the grass when she did. She was actually really pretty. Damn it, Ares. Great, he started thinking of Lindsey as something other than just the chick he used to work with. She lifted her head to look at him again and opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but Eezo pounced on her. She laughed again, picking Eezo up and folding her legs, settling the dog in her lap.

"I forgot how funny you are sometimes." She tilted her head to the side, fingers running down Eezo from head to rear. "Though you seem a lot more … I don't know, confident now or something. It suits you."

Charles smirked. "Mahlia said something about me seeming different the other day, too." He guessed going on a killing spree agreed with him. He tossed a few pieces of cereal into his mouth.

"How is Mahlia?" she asked, and he swore she looked a little sad for about half a second.

Charles shrugged. "She seems alright. Irene's got me working up front with her again, and she brought in a new guy to fill the spot in the back."

"Oh yeah? What's he like?" She dug the packet of treats back out her pocket when Eezo climbed down from her lap again and started sniffing at the pocket. She turned her attention to Eezo. "Sit."

"He's actually pretty cool, I guess. A turian named Cammus." Charles dug out a few more pieces of cereal. "He's polite but not stuck up, you know? He has a sense of humor, and he handled Okal like a champ."

"Sit," Lindsey said again, pointing to the ground, but Eezo just stared at the bag of treats. "Eezo, sit." She pushed down on Eezo's back, and the dog sat. "Good girl." She gave Eezo the treat before looking back up at Charles. "Speaking of … what's with the guy you were here with yesterday?" She drew one of her brows down, arching the other up, turning her head a little to the side. "He's kinda creepy."

Charles snorted, taking his time thinking of a response. He didn't really know how to talk to other people about Ares. Before it wasn't an issue, because they were never seen together, but the more he started coming over, the more often he and Charles would go out in public together. They weren't especially touchy-feely in public most of the time, but they didn't exactly always keep their hands to themselves, either. They never really talked much about it, but Charles didn't think Ares really wanted him telling people they were together. Or hell, maybe he did. He didn't seem to have any problem with Charles declaring him as 'mine' on the ship to Shanxi and didn't hesitate to call Charles his human. And fuck, he had Charles carve his name into Ares' arm.

"He's a good friend of mine," he said, finally settling on the easiest answer. "But I'm sure he'll love to hear you think he's creepy." He grinned, shoving the cereal into his mouth.

"Oh no!" She leaned in toward him, eyes wide. "Charles! You can't tell him I said that!"

He had to cut off a laugh before he choked on his breakfast. Picking up his bottle of Paragade, he opened it and took a heavy swallow to wash the cereal down before running his hand over his mouth. "Relax. He knows damn well how intimidating he is, and trust me, he enjoys it. I'm not telling him anything."

She huffed, blowing her bangs around again, the anxiety easing off her face to be replaced with a grin. "You're kinda mean."

He laughed, throwing a hand up against his chest, and furrowed his brow. "I'm so not mean. Okay … maybe a little. Sometimes. But the look on your face was worth it."

"Daddy's a bad boy, isn't he, Eezo?" Lindsey scratched under the dog's chin. "No treats for Daddy."

Screwing up his face he shook his head. "No, no. That's weird. Don't do that."

She laughed again, leaning in to rub her forehead against Eezo's. "You wanna run, girl?" She pulled her feet in under herself. "Come on, let's go run, girl." She glanced at him over her shoulder, flashing him a grin. "Daddy's got to go to work soon, we better get your exercise in."

Tilting his head back, he groaned, listening to her laugh fade as she ran off with Eezo.