Blood of my Brother

Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 3

I almost forgot to post this today! Life has been a bit chaotic lately, and somewhere along the way my mind took a wrong turn and hasn't found its way back yet, but I am trying. I can't ever even remember what day it is anymore. But enough of that; have some therapy after the train wreck that was the last chapter.

Trigger warnings: references to biting, self-hate

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In the days following, Varian walked on eggshells around Hector. It pained the warrior to see. His nephew didn't have the same spark to him, the same vibrancy. His eyes were constantly shifting, he startled easily at sudden noises, and he was back to not speaking as often. Months of recovery had been damaged by Hector's idiocy, by one lost temper. Varian wasn't as bad off as he had been when Hector had first found him, but in some ways, this was worse. It was worse because it was Hector he was afraid of. It was Hector who had hurt him.

After that debacle, Varian had attempted to continue training, but Hector had quickly brought a stop to that, saying they needed a break for a week or so. The boy had stubbornly insisted he was fine, but he flinched at sudden motions, and Hector didn't want to be the one to cause him to fear physical contact any more than he did. As a compromise, they stuck to exercise and mental training and avoided combat training altogether.

Ruddiger, of course, never left his boy's side. He glared at Hector any time the man got close to them. Once, Hector made the mistake of reaching out to put a hand on Varian's shoulder. The raccoon's teeth had sunk almost all the way through his glove. Not enough to break through completely, but Hector did sport a nice set of bruises after that.

There was one bright side, though. After his apology, Hector had realized with a shock that he had used the word "promise," which he had tried to avoid around his nephew. But Varian either hadn't noticed or didn't mind. If that could be considered a "bright side."

Four days after his mistake, Hector was repairing the leg of a table Kubwa had knocked over when the bearcats had ambushed him playfully. The repair wasn't hard, but his distracted thoughts made him lose focus and smash his finger between the two planks of wood. "Crap! That hurts like the dickens!"

A frightened gasp came from behind him. He whirled around to see his nephew standing there, having just come through the nearby doorway. The doorway which the damaged table sat to the right of. More than likely, Varian hadn't even seen Hector until he yelled.

Oh, crap.

"Sorry, kiddo." He kept his voice controlled and calm. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"I-it's okay," he whispered. "Sorry."

"For what? You didn't do nothing."

Varian winced. "Sorry. I mean—"

"It's fine. Don't apologize."

Varian looked like he wanted to say something else but refrained. He started to walk away. Ruddiger, perched on his shoulders, glared back at Hector vengefully.

"Kid, wait."

He stopped, his shoulders hunched, and turned back to Hector.

"We need to talk." Hector motioned for Varian to sit and waited until he did so. The boy kept a good distance between them, placing Ruddiger in his lap. "Look, it's been tense around here for the last few days, and it's my fault. I'm sorry I yelled at you. And I know I don't deserve your forgiveness or anything, but—just yell at me! Be mad! Something! I can't stand seeing you all timid like this knowing it's my fault. You have every right to be angry at me, so... please just say something!"