honorary titan fan week 2020 day 3: relationships.
Onward
"So, you're going."
Jericho stood in the doorway of his family's home. He took a breath and held it, his body tensing as she stared down at him. He focused on the cigarette she pinched between her forefinger and thumb, the light gray smoke wafting around her and forming a pseudo-halo around her frizzy mop of brunette locks.
Adeline sighed and took a long drag. She breathed in the heavy smoke, relishing in the taste, before blowing out a long, thin stream of smog. Her son's eyes never left her cigarette as she lowered it to her hip, bits of ash flicking off onto the white shag carpet.
"You've packed your bag," she remarked, her gaze falling on to the duffel bag he clenched in both hands, "and you've dressed yourself in the outfit I made for you."
The purple tunic he donned had been sewn with love. He remembered waiting by Adeline's side as she weaved the needle and thread together, her form like a goddess bathed in the pale light of the lamps in their living room. Her mouth twisting upwards in a smile, a few wrinkles and dimples lifting by her lips, her eyes bright like the stars in the night sky when she presented him the tunic, the final piece needed for his costume.
Jericho nodded. Their separation had been inevitable. They had spent months contemplating and discussing the benefits and risks of him going out on his own. His powers could help many while others would seek him out for their bidding if he was not vigilant or if he trusted too readily. But in the end, it was Jericho who made the final decision, leading to them waiting in the twilight of his departure.
Adeline raked her other hand through her hair. He stepped forward and offered his hand. His mother accepted, letting Jericho run his thumb over her palm, her taut skin bulging with veins and bones.
"I knew this day would come," she whispered, flicking her cigarette over his shoulder and out the door. She didn't care if it caused a fire. She'd rather their lawn burn down the house and cleanse it from the suffering which had stewed behind closed doors.
Dropping his bag, Jericho settled into her arms as she wreathed them around him. He nestled into her shoulder, her taller frame reminding him of his father and brother. He had always been the baby of the family, the shortest, the sweetest, the gentlest, the one in need of the most help.
"You'll do great things," Adeline crooned into his hair, smelling the floral scent of his shampoo, "and if you want to return, you know I'll welcome you home. If you need me, if you ever find yourself over your head-" She parted from him and clutched his shoulders. "-you know you can contact me. I'll come running-" She grinned. "-and shooting anyone who tries harming you."
Jericho cupped her face and nodded. His hands were soft and smelled of lavender soap, leaving her aching for his embrace when he drew away. He bent over and picked up his bag, a cresting smile on his mouth as he slipped it over his shoulder, and he didn't look back, marching out into a world unknown.
She shut the door behind him. If she learned anything in her life, it was to never linger, to never stay for too long. Adeline pulled out another cigarette and a cheap lighter from her pockets. With a controlled hand, she lit the tip, sucked in the fumes, alone in the darkness of a home filled with nothing but nightmares and reassured herself it was good.