she will not forgive him for this. she will not forgive him for this hurt and this pain and these sleepless nights. she will not forgive him for her own guilt and shame and the undeniable notion that this is her fault. that she told herself countless times that she was enough, that bo wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but it was a lie. 

gretchen sits in her lap. adelaide offers to stay later, to ask her when was the last time she'd eaten? is elisabet going to run the shop again tomorrow? a few of her clients have asked after their pokemon, are disappointed with her lack of communication, and mr. tarren asked after her, wants to know if he should bring any food for them. 

adelaide drones on and on and then gives her shoulder a shake and willow comes to, puts a hand over hers, and says, "thank you, addie. go home now. we'll see you in the morning."

gretchen purrs in her lap, trying to soothe what anxieties she can, but it's futile. willow stands, jostling the old crone of a cat, and gretchen falls less than gracefully to the floor, tail flicking crossly. willow goes to the kitchen window, to the crawling vines and succulents, and checks their soil, tends to them and overwaters them and curses as she does. 

she wrings her hands. the front door opens and she sighs, brushing dirt, saying, "really, addie. we're okay. go home and r - " she stops and her heart wells, shoulders trembling.

the kitchen is small and she crosses it quickly, grabs roman's shoulders, and yanks him against her as she drops to her knees. she buries her head in his shoulder, hand in his hair, cradling him close.

there will be time to express her anger and her disappointment, but that is not now. not before she understands why he ran, not before she gives him a haven to keep him safe. to keep him in her arms. 

"i love you, sweetheart," she says roughly. "you scared the hell out of me and we're going to talk, but i am so thankful you're home. and you're okay. and you're safe." she pulls back, takes his hands, looks down at them, and stiffens. 

after looking over him quickly to ensure he's not hurt, her gaze snaps to bo. her voice is colder, void of that honeyed warmth lacing her words for roman. "you. talk. now."

boruta maher  Roman Maher

☉

there had been words. words along the lines of ‘what the fuck roman’ and ‘you can’t just stab people.’ especially not at a public gathering. there was also, of course, ’your mom’s going to kill me.’ maybe roman wanted that.

they’d darted out of the soiree before any law enforcement could react, and so it was in a hurry that bo stepped inside with his son. he, too, had some blood on his suit—though certainly less than roman did.

seeing them reunite was good, and it almost brought a smile to his face, but it was kept at bay by the fact that it would be only moments before she noticed his red hands...

bo hadn’t stabbed anyone until he’d been in rocket. this kid was just doing it.

when she looked up at him, he was wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights, as though he hadn’t had any time to think about an explanation yet—and he hadn’t, really. he had been worried about a plethora of things, while glancing over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“he was at the soiree at the space center in mossdeep.” and thank arceus they'd left that place when they did.

he took a breath, staring into her eyes in a way that that feared for his life and begged for mercy. he really didn’t want to say it. he shook his head. fuck. how was he supposed to make this okay?

it wasn’t like this was the first time roman had been violent. it was just the worst.

his words flowed quick. “he stabbed somebody, will. i did the first thing i thought to do, which was pull him out of there and bring him home—i don’t know if that’s what i should’ve done, but i didn’t have a lot of time to think about it.” and rocket had been there. that was the real reason. rockets all over, there to witness. had that guy been one of them, bo was sure he’d have a target on his back now—but at least he’d gotten roman out of any immediate danger.

unfortunately, he couldn’t explain that part to her.

“i’m sorry.”

this is my fault.

Roman Maher & willow atkins

☉

all of her anxieties come creeping forth, but rather than draw her down to her knees, she rises. rather than pull her to her bed, tears from her eyes, they pour fury into her shaking shoulders, birth rage in her eyes. you wouldn't guess she hasn't been able to sleep in over a month, not with the way energy crackles off of her in waves. 

one hand is still on roman's shoulder. as though that can stop him from disappearing out from under her. but she doesn't notice the way her fingers are tensing painfully against him, that her teeth are grinding as she stares at the blood spattered over bo's shirt. 

"he's gone for thirty-six days. there's barely any word from you. and the two of you are at a party?" her voice rises an octave. "the soiree, where all the region's most powerful people, avatars included, flocked to...to....to do whatever the fuck they do." 

she throws her hands up. "anything could have happened there! i can't..." she pinches the bridge of her nose and then looks down at roman, softening only for a moment. 

"is what he's saying true, ro?" 

boruta maher  Roman Maher

☉

all of his outbursts, she's treated with patience and kindness, with understanding. a 'let's talk through it' method so he knows she sees him as a person. but maybe she should have been harsher. maybe she should have yelled, locked him away in his room. maybe then she could have kept him safe. 

and bo - he can't do anything because he's still so terrified willow's going to pull the rug out from under him. all he can do is watch roman fuck up and then dump him on her doorstep when it gets to be too much. her shoulders sag. 

she doesn't release him. instead, she crouches down, holds one hand out to steady herself as she eases down. she sits cross-legged on the floor and drops her arms to grab roman's hands. 

"can you tell me why you did it?" she asks. her kindness is infinite. her patience more so. her heart flutters like an anxious butterfree in her chest, but she does her best to cover that up. 

boruta maher  Roman Maher

☉

part of him felt constantly like there was nothing he could do to fix things with roman, and then other parts of him knew there were things to be done, but he was just too blind to see what they were—yet, hopefully.

one of his greatest fears was that no matter what he might do, things would only get worse. he focused ahead, usually smiling through it, but this possibility loomed over his shoulders, day in and day out.

he was quiet, watching them from edge of the room, as though something might bite him if he moved in further.

was he done here? should he leave?

Roman Maher & willow atkins

☉

her father had a short fuse. it's something she'd managed her entire childhood and adult livelihood. and perhaps that's why she's the opposite. she'd envied her mother's patience, her thick skin, and the way she never let any of his thorny words get to her (because they were never mean, really, and he'd apologize later and smack himself on the head). 

but roman is a whole bottle of gasoline, just waiting for the next spark to set him off. 

her heart aches and she doesn't know why this is the only way he knows how to cope. but to cope with what? why are you so confused? where did i go wrong? 

she grabs him, wraps her arms tightly around him, eyes squeezing shut. "i give a shit that you're hurting," she says. she can probably count on one hand the amount of times she's sworn in front of him, but she's at a loss right now. 

and she's so damn terrified he's going to try to run away again. 

she looks past him, at bo, tears in her eyes, pleading for something. 

boruta maher  & Roman Maher

☉

he’d done—at least he thought—everything he could, since he’d come back. between runaways of father and son respectively, he’d taken every opportunity available to be there for roman, but bo could never undo the past. this truth was a hand around his throat, slowly suffocating him.

now, he was doubting himself. beginning to realize that maybe there was nothing he could do. things were too far gone—and there was no one to blame but himself.

roman’s words pieced his heart, and would echo forever. they rendered him speechless at first, although he had heard them before. this time, the consequences of his neglect had been his son’s assault on someone with a deadly weapon.

his gold eyes met willow’s, reading the look in her watery eyes. fuck. something scrunched about his face, as tears began to well in his eyes as well, but he blinked and pushed it back down. nope. cleared his throat.

how was a father supposed to be in this kind of situation?

he didn’t defend himself, or assure his son otherwise, because it felt cheap to do so. he was worried roman wouldn’t believe it. but, perhaps he should have said something more.

“your mom’s been worried sick about you, roman. she doesn’t deserve that.”

Roman Maher & willow atkins

☉

she thanks bo as well as she can with just her eyes and then squeezes them shut, arms tightening around roman because she's longed for this moment for so long. she should let him go, should let him be his own person, should give him space, but she can't. so she takes his scratching and grits her teeth and wills her love to get through to him. 

and then he relaxes, arms at his side, and she finally draws back. "oh, honey," she murmurs. she wipes away his tears and then wipes away her own, but that doesn't stop them from flowing.

"i'm so sorry if i ever made you feel like that was the case. i love you. and i won't ever stop loving you, 'kay?" she smooths his hair away from his forehead, bops him on the nose. 

"i'm disappointed and we need to talk - about why you did it, about where you've been. all of it. but your dad and i, we're here to help you. because we love you."

she sighs. "have you eaten?"

boruta maher  & Roman Maher

☉

it all felt… so passive. boruta wasn’t quite sure what to think. on one hand, he was happy that his family was reunited. on the other, his son had just committed assault with a deadly weapon, having potentially almost murdered someone, and he was being asked about his appetite.

his questioning was kept silent. he could only stare. he didn’t write the rules within these walls. he had relinquished any control at the very beginning of all of this—even before birth.

what if roman did kill someone eventually? just because it involved a knife this time did not make it an isolated incident.

while his concerns ran rampant, he remained at the edge of the kitchen. eventually, he cleared his throat. “hey, i’m just gonna step outside for a second.”

and he did, taking a deep breath of evening air and looking down the road to ensure nothing was headed up it towards them.

Roman Maher & willow atkins

☉