One little knot (will {person} disappear as soon as I'm not around) unwinds for the time being, as he briefly forgets himself and runs on all fours to the door of the study, pausing there.
"D..." The one syllable word starts deep enough to sound wrong, and he catches himself off guard with his own surprise. "Dad?"
His father in the breach had been fierce and certain, careful and gentle. But part of him expressed his own happiness less easily, always looking over his shoulder, always a little guilty for what he had been part of in a life he doesn't remember. He had loved Edwin so deeply, but he'd never felt entirely sure he had any right to keep what he'd stolen.
This Jedao has no such hesitation; and for him, it's been a few months, not two years. He doesn't have hours of existing in public, hearing Dad in the grocery store, at school, at bedtime, to make the impossible treasure also something normal. He breaks out into an irrepressible beaming smile.
The smile feels like letting go of breath from lungs that have been holding stale air for minutes on minutes. It feels like coming home. He forgets himself entirely and runs on all fours to Jedao's ankles before he takes a flying leap toward the man's arms.
It still sounds strange now in the voice he's always had. Not as natural as a kid calling out, not as easy and familiar, but that smile heals so much all at once without Edwin even having to ask for reassurance.
He snugs his face against Jedao's neck as he clings. "Chalk?"
"I remember you drawing for hours. Covering the whole driveway. I remember you'd've gone into the street, if I let you." Even if it didn't happen: Jedao remembers.
"I don't know what it was exactly. But we could get more, if you think you'd still like it."
Jedao doesn't assume they're exactly the same. But he's happy to try anything that might bring Edwin that kind of joy.
That's right. That's right, he remembers that. He remembers how much he loves it, how magical it was to make sprawling landscapes of color and shape and know that the desert rain would come and carry the rainbows of his work off to some other place if he didn't free it all with the hose or buckets of water first.
"Yes," he says, and snuggles against Jedao. There are perks to being small, he realizes. Being held like this is one of them. "Could we do it in the enclosure, or maybe the greenhouse? I liked watching everything wash away."
"Drawing, and then a quick thunderstorm?" Jedao offers.
He'd enjoyed it when Edwin spooked the neighbors. But he liked it more when no one else got to see it at all before it washed away, a passing moment of secret loveliness, just for the two of them.
"Yes!" Rain. Rain on his face, he loved that too. Sun and blue skies were nice but the weather people called bad was almost always his favorite. There was nothing about it that reminded him of the labs, that was one of the reasons--no too-bright lights--but Edwin now, Edwin of this moment wants to feel rain on his face again.
He hopes it feels the same. That makes a sick little twist of nerves coil through him. What if it doesn't? What if it doesn't feel as nice? Will he forget what it felt like on real skin? He doesn't want to.
"Is it... It's okay that I'm not human any more, right?"
He knows the answer, if he's honest, but he wants to hear it anyway.
"Well, I don't want you thinking that sort of thing about yourself, either," Jedao murmurs. Then he leans forward and gives Edwin a very gentle play-bite, approximately where the scruff of his neck would be if he were actually a cat.
He presses his face against Jedao's shoulder, a weird little bubble of happy and sad making his chest feel squished tight.
"Can-- Can I stay here for..."
A while? He's not sure what he actually wants. It's like someone put him into a drink shaker and rattled it around until everything inside him came unstuck from its proper feeling-places. The last breach was too novel to be so unsettling, too infuriating in ways completely unrelated to what it means to be in the form he has.
"If- W-when I get a body, a real one, do you want it to look like he did?"
"It's to have more control over my body. So I can eat things and they won't taste wrong, and I can use my moth powers without it hurting...but also so I can change how I look, a little bit. I don't want to change a huge amount, but I want to get rid of some of Jedao One's scars, and maybe look a little younger, closer to how I feel like I should look in my head."
Jedao smiles at him gently.
"I like the way you look right now. It's the first way I ever got to hug you. But if you want to look human, or ten feet tall with tentacles, or anything else, then you'll still be my sunshine. I want you to look a way that feels comfortable for you."
Edwin stares, leaning back a little more so he can see more of Jedao's face.
"...Really? I-I mean, about your deal." It helps, makes things feel a little less tight in his chest, knowing even Jedao needs a deal to make his body the way he wants it to be.
The gentle headbutt against the base of Jedao's throat is muscle memory, a version of his breach self's habitual chest-faceplant silent demand for attention.
Until now, all his songs had been lullabies remembered from his own 'childhood' in the circus. Now, though, he thinks of something he'd found in the other Jedao's collection, something he thought of as a witchsong -
He has a decent singing voice, not trained at all, but he can follow the tune well enough, transposed down for his deeper voice, only going a little reedy on some of the high notes.
The color is all wrong, but Jedao still likes the song for him.
He closes his eyes and listens to the song underpinned by the movement of muscle and air, relaxing almost unintentionally into his body's default shape. After Jedao finishes the song, there's a few moments of silence before he speaks again.
"John and I aren't in the same world any more. The same timeline. His changed."
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"D..." The one syllable word starts deep enough to sound wrong, and he catches himself off guard with his own surprise. "Dad?"
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This Jedao has no such hesitation; and for him, it's been a few months, not two years. He doesn't have hours of existing in public, hearing Dad in the grocery store, at school, at bedtime, to make the impossible treasure also something normal. He breaks out into an irrepressible beaming smile.
"Hello, Sunshine."
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"I guess we gotta find some of this chalk stuff, huhn?"
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It still sounds strange now in the voice he's always had. Not as natural as a kid calling out, not as easy and familiar, but that smile heals so much all at once without Edwin even having to ask for reassurance.
He snugs his face against Jedao's neck as he clings. "Chalk?"
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"I don't know what it was exactly. But we could get more, if you think you'd still like it."
Jedao doesn't assume they're exactly the same. But he's happy to try anything that might bring Edwin that kind of joy.
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"Yes," he says, and snuggles against Jedao. There are perks to being small, he realizes. Being held like this is one of them. "Could we do it in the enclosure, or maybe the greenhouse? I liked watching everything wash away."
This too shall pass.
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He'd enjoyed it when Edwin spooked the neighbors. But he liked it more when no one else got to see it at all before it washed away, a passing moment of secret loveliness, just for the two of them.
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He hopes it feels the same. That makes a sick little twist of nerves coil through him. What if it doesn't? What if it doesn't feel as nice? Will he forget what it felt like on real skin? He doesn't want to.
"Is it... It's okay that I'm not human any more, right?"
He knows the answer, if he's honest, but he wants to hear it anyway.
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No the irony of his own surprise has not occurred to him.
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"If somebody told me it wasn't okay, what would you say to them?"
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"Can-- Can I stay here for..."
A while? He's not sure what he actually wants. It's like someone put him into a drink shaker and rattled it around until everything inside him came unstuck from its proper feeling-places. The last breach was too novel to be so unsettling, too infuriating in ways completely unrelated to what it means to be in the form he has.
"If- W-when I get a body, a real one, do you want it to look like he did?"
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Jedao pets Edwin's back pensively.
"Do you know what my deal is?"
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Jedao smiles at him gently.
"I like the way you look right now. It's the first way I ever got to hug you. But if you want to look human, or ten feet tall with tentacles, or anything else, then you'll still be my sunshine. I want you to look a way that feels comfortable for you."
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"...Really? I-I mean, about your deal." It helps, makes things feel a little less tight in his chest, knowing even Jedao needs a deal to make his body the way he wants it to be.
The gentle headbutt against the base of Jedao's throat is muscle memory, a version of his breach self's habitual chest-faceplant silent demand for attention.
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"Really. Hakkai made me promise my next one would be just for me, and that's what I want."
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Edwin turns his face to snuggle against his dad a little more.
"Hunter is going to let me have his deal. ...I forgot to tell John that. He doesn't need to use his for me now."
A pause as his confidence falters again. "Maybe."
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Jedao gives him some little scritches, like Zehun's cats used to like.
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"S... sing a song for me? P-please?"
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"Little blue dreamer go to sleep...we'll close our eyes, and call the deep..."
He has a decent singing voice, not trained at all, but he can follow the tune well enough, transposed down for his deeper voice, only going a little reedy on some of the high notes.
The color is all wrong, but Jedao still likes the song for him.
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"John and I aren't in the same world any more. The same timeline. His changed."
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