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— — —
1.
— — —
They’re dressed up as father and son, and it’s killing Ash a little.
Max is everything he wishes Jim had been.
But it’s a stupid thought. Pointless, and hopeless. No one would ever want to think of Ash as their son. Not really. It’s awful enough that he’s making Max play this stupid game. Ash feels bad for the guy, really.
Max signs the paperwork for the condo under the name Eddie Winston, and Ash longs to be someone else. Someone other than Ash Lynx or Aslan Jade Callenreese. Christopher Winston, maybe. Just maybe.
Or Aslan “Ash” Glenreed.
God. Fuck. What’s wrong with him?
The leasing manager leaves, and Max chuckles.
“I feel like a celebrity even though it’s not my money. Buying an eight million dollar condo with cash.”
“Keep it together, old man,” Ash says. “It’s not for you.” It’s for Eiji, really.
Ash walks over to the window, looking out onto the Corsican Foundation’s building. Explains to Max the plan. This will give Eiji something to focus on, too. Ash knows the kid wants to help. And this way he can, without having to even leave the building. Without endangering himself any more than he already is just by being near Ash.
“Damn, you’re bold,” Max admits. “What if they find you?”
“There’s a gym and a supermarket downstairs. I won’t have to leave here.” But Ash will, of course. He has things to take care of. Arthur’s group, for one. But the point is that Eiji won’t have to leave. Eiji will be safe.
With the leasing manager long gone, Max rips off the fake mustache for until they have to leave, and—fuck, why does that hurt? That’s stupid. God, Ash is so fucking stupid. Of course Max wouldn’t want to play father and son any longer than he has to. This whole thing must be so awful for Max, having to pretend that someone like Ash is his kid.
But that’s all Ash does, isn’t it? Just hurt everyone around him.
“Tired already, Dad?” Ash teases. “Maybe you should take a nap, old man.”
Max waves him off. “I’m not nearly old enough to be your dad, and you know it.”
Ash ignores the way that stings. What’s another rejection? Ash should expect it by now. The only time he’s not rejected is ... well.
“God, I’m not ready to take care of a teenager,” Max says. “I’m dreading Michael’s teenage years, you know that?”
At least he won’t be anything like Ash. But Ash doesn’t need to voice that. Doesn’t need to compare someone as good as Michael to himself. What an insult to that whole fucking family. The idea that Max and Jessica would ever raise a kid like Ash.
“But ...” Max pauses. “If he ends up anything like you, maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“W-what?” Ash’s heart skips three beats. What the fuck? What does he mean by that? He can’t ... There’s no way. Ash must have misunderstood. He clears his throat. Tries to calm down, bring himself back to reality. “You want to raise a whore? A fucking murderer? Not exactly the best parenting goals.”
“You’re so much more than that, Ash.”
But he’s not. He’s not. He’s fucking not.
This is a cruel joke. Ash didn’t think Max was the type to be this sadistic.
That’s what I fucking get for ... Well, Ash wouldn’t say he’s ever trusted Max. Not really. He’d like to think that he’s not that stupid.
But god, he ... he wants ...
No. He can’t admit that, not even to himself. It’ll just make everything hurt more.
Ash knows better.
“You gonna settle in okay here?” Max asks. “We can go shopping, buy anything you need.”
Max starts wandering around the apartment, inspecting every room. Ash trails behind him, watching curiously while Max checks everything out.
“It’s nice that it comes furnished,” Max says, “but you’ve gotta make sure you take care of the other stuff. You won’t want to run out of toilet paper; that’s always a bitch. Oh, and a plunger! That’s something you don’t know you need until it’s too late.”
“Damn, Dad, you that worried about my ass?”
But Max ignores him, doesn’t take the easy bait. “Make sure you clean out the drawers before you put your stuff in them, okay? Do you need me to buy you some disinfectant wipes?”
Ash rolls his eyes. “I’m literally a millionaire. I don’t need you to buy me shit.”
“Your old dad’s just looking out for you.”
No, stop stop stop. He doesn’t mean it, you fucking idiot. God, I’m a dumbass. Max is just going along with this stupid game of Ash’s. Ash should fucking apologize to him for it.
“Do you have food already? Or should we go get some groceries? What’s your favorite meal?”
“Shrimp and avocado salad,” Ash replies. Wait, fuck—there’s no reason for him to answer that. It’s not like Max actually cares. He’s just really getting into this father and son role. But there’s no reason to play this game when no one’s watching. Ash should just let him leave and move on with his life.
“Avocados go bad so damn fast, so make sure you keep an eye for when they’re ripe, okay? You said there’s a grocery store downstairs?”
Ash closes his eyes for a second before responding. “Fucking—you act like I’ve never been on my own before.” Like he hasn’t been on his own since the age of six. Since Griff went to Iraq. Since the last person who gave a shit left him.
Max sighs. “You shouldn’t have been, kid. You shouldn’t have been.”
He’s playing a role, Ash reminds himself. He’s just pretending. He doesn’t care. No one fucking does.
“Well, we should get out of here, huh, Son? I’m sure you want to get Eiji in here as soon as possible.”
And Ash knows that Max is teasing him about Eiji, but he gets caught up on ‘son.’ Holy shit. Son. He called Ash ‘son.’
Fuck.
He didn’t mean it like that, dumbass, he tells himself. He’s literally pretending to be your father right now. It’s all part of the act.
God, how fucking pathetic is Ash, getting attached over something as stupid as a disguise? This is ... god. Shit. Fuck. It’s a fucking joke. Max is making a joke.
And that’s as close to being someone’s kid as Ash ever will be, isn’t it? Just as a joke. Better than ... better than the way he was Jim’s kid, he guesses. Or Dino’s. Better than that. Ash knows better.
He fucking knows better.
So why does this hurt so bad?
“Yeah,” Ash whispers. “Yeah. Come on, Dad.”
Dad.
— — —
2.
— — —
Ash is ... not doing great.
He nearly killed Frog. Nearly ruined the whole fucking plan before they could even get the evidence. And for what? Revenge?
Ash doesn’t fucking deserve revenge.
They’re playing dress up again, Max and Ash. They’ve been father and son, doctor and nurse, and now a couple. They’ve really done it all, haven’t they?
Ash thinks back to that first time pretending to be father and son. How he wanted so badly to make something real out of it.
What a fucking joke.
Max has easily played other roles with him now. Any disguise necessary for the sake of their success. None more ... more or less real than the last.
God, if Ash is being honest with himself, playing a couple is probably closer to the truth than playing father and son, isn’t it?
Ash hides behind the support pillar while George and Max talk.
“This makes me sick. That swine,” George says. As if he’s not the same as every other adult man. Ash doesn’t have any fucking rose-colored glasses on regarding what’s going to happen to these photos and videos before they’re turned over as evidence. Everyone’s the same. Some are just more obvious about it than others.
“Sorry, old man,” Ash breathes. He feels Max’s eyes shift to look at him, but Ash doesn’t turn around. “I was about to shoot him.”
“Don’t fret it,” Max replies, despite the fact that Ash nearly ruined everything. “Sorry for making you go through that.”
Ash doesn’t reply. This is nothing. It’s embarrassing, really, that Ash reacted the way he did. After everything else he’s gone through, just seeing Frog’s face set him off so fucking badly? Pathetic.
“Thanks, Ash,” George says. “I’ll make sure the rights of these boys are protected.”
Shit. No. That won’t do. That ... no. Ash can’t let the others be hurt like that. Most of them are probably dead by now, but ... still. Not when the survivors are finally about to get out.
Ash finally emerges from his pathetic hiding place, facing the two men he’s supposed to be working with. “Just use my pictures.” He looks down, unable to meet their eyes, but he smiles a little. It really is funny, in a way. “I’m already a dead man. Nothing could shame me.”
Without a word, Max takes out a lighter. He burns the photos of Ash. Doesn’t even open the folder.
Ash stares, shocked. Isn’t he at least curious? Doesn’t he want to see Ash vulnerable and crying like everyone else does?
“Forget everything,” Max says. His voice is soft, and Ash wants to turn away. “But I guess you would’ve already if you could. Just don’t think about it anymore. You don’t have to be controlled by this anymore.”
Ashes ... ashes fall to the ground.
It’s laughable, really. How is Ash supposed to not let it control him? It’s been the story of most of his goddamn life. It’s what he was fucking born for. All he’s good for—well, that and killing, anyway.
Ash doesn’t respond. He can’t. What does he say to something as ridiculous as that?
There’s no way Max means it, anyway.
He probably saved some of Ash’s photos to look at later, honestly. Ash isn’t stupid enough to buy into the good guy act. Max is ... Max might not be the same as Dino, but he’s still an adult man. He’s got his own urges, his own desires, and Ash can satisfy those.
The only reason Max hasn’t come onto Ash is because they share a common goal. They’re working toward taking down this Banana Fish shit together. That’s all. Maybe once this is all over, Max will ...
But Ash doesn’t want to think about that.
They head out together afterward, after separating from George.
Ash laughs, a little bitter. “We make a pretty good couple, yeah?” he jokes. Well, halfway jokes, anyway.
Max grimaces. He doesn’t reply.
“So much for the father and son act,” Ash says. “This is probably a bit closer to the truth, isn’t it?” Testing the waters, maybe. Seeing how close Max is to that breaking point.
But Max shakes his head, looking over at Ash. “No, kid. God. No.”
“What do you mean?” Ash teases. “Don’t you want in on this?” Or maybe Ash is just too used up for Max.
“Ash,” Max says, and his voice is almost scolding. “I would literally rather die than even look at you that way. I’ll do what I have to in order to take Dino Golzine down, but this ... I would never hurt you, okay? Even playing this damn act was hard for me.”
Ash just laughs again. God, Max is really laying it on thick, isn’t he? All for the sake of the plan, of course.
“You’re family, Ash.”
Ash’s breath catches, and his thoughts go blank for a second. Why ... fuck, why does he want that so badly? Why does ... why does that fucking hurt?
Family.
Ash hasn’t had a family since Griffin left.
“You really are like a son to me, you know that?” Max continues.
“Yeah, well, I was like a son to Dino too, now wasn’t I? Didn’t fucking stop him.”
“That’s ... not what I mean. And you know it.” Max sighs.
Yeah. Ash does know. Knows better than to buy into this shit.
“I wish you could think of me as a father. Or at the very least, a father figure of sorts.”
Ash laughs again. He stops short in the middle of the sidewalk, New Yorkers parting around him like a body of water barely hindered by the world’s most useless dam. “The only father I’ve ever had prostituted me when I was seven. You gonna take after him, old man? Whore me out to anyone who’ll pay? Or would you rather be like Dino and keep me all to yourself?”
Max stops too, spinning to face Ash. “Jesus Christ, Ash I—I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I promise. Halfway decent adults don’t want to fucking hurt children. A good person wouldn’t even consider that. I would never.”
“It’s okay that you do,” Ash breathes. “It’s normal. It’s what everyone’s thinking on the inside.” And Ash isn’t really a kid, anyway. Never has been. But god. Fuck. Ash wants to believe ...
But Max wouldn’t have agreed to play this game if he didn’t want to on some level, right? It’s different than the father and son roles. It’s ... it’s different. Max really wants this. Everyone fucking does.
“You don’t have to believe me, kid, but I’ll prove you wrong.”
Kid. Max calls him that a lot. Probably just—probably just viewing him as an easy target, like everyone else does. Oh well. It’s what Ash has come to expect. What he’s come to know.
They keep walking in silence. When they reach their parting point, Max looks at Ash, and his expression is ... sad.
Sad he can’t fuck Ash, probably. Sad he has to work with Ash for the sake of this plan. Sad that he has to team up with someone as fucked up as Ash.
“Do you need anything before I leave?” Max asks.
“Nothing you can give,” Ash says. His voice is a little more bitter than he meant for it to be. He needs ... god, he can’t even admit it to himself. “Nothing you’re willing to give.”
“I’d give anything you need me to, Son. Just let me know when you’re ready to ask.”
Ash swallows. It hurts. Everything Max says fucking hurts. Maybe that’s the point. Wearing him down, making him vulnerable.
God, Ash just ... just wishes he could believe half of the words Max is saying. But he can’t afford to. He doesn’t need to be more broken when Max finally proves him right.
“I don’t need anything from you,” Ash says again. “Let me know when you’re planning to release the evidence to the press.”
And other than that, leave me alone.
Talking to you hurts too much.
— — —
3.
— — —
Fuck.
Ash’s side fucking hurts, despite the painkillers he can feel coursing through his veins.
What happened?
Right. Lao. He was stabbed. And he ... he made it out, somehow. Apparently. Unless death hurts, which would be incredibly unfair.
... He wasn’t planning to make it out.
But here he fucking is.
He drifts in and out of consciousness for a while, unable to really make it enough into the real world to connect with anything that’s happening.
At least the drugs keep him out of it enough that he doesn’t really dream. Doesn’t really have nightmares.
At least, not as bad as usual.
“Ash,” a voice calls. An adult’s voice—a man—but it’s not ... not what Ash is used to hearing. Not hostile, not wanting. Almost caring. Almost. But it can’t be. Not when they’re calling Ash’s name. Or—they must be talking to another Ash. That’s probably it.
“God, Ash, please,” the voice says again, and this time Ash almost recognizes it. He’s so close to hearing, to understanding, but lucidity slips through his fingers as easily as blood soaks through a turtleneck and trench coat.
He tries to respond, to move or speak or anything, but he can’t. He can’t even open his eyes or get himself to react. His body hurts so fucking bad, and his mind hurts even worse. He feels like shit, and he wants out. He wishes ...
He kind of wishes that he hadn’t left that goddamn library.
“You’re stronger than this.” And the person is whispering now. And—Max. It’s Max’s voice.
“He’ll make it,” another voice says. A woman this time. Jessica? “He has to. He’s made it through so much worse.”
Who are they talking about? Ash can’t ... he’s struggling to hold onto the words.
“Please,” Max says, and it sounds like he’s begging. What’s he begging for? Why would he ... ?
“All we can do is trust him,” Jessica says.. Trust who? Who are they ... ?
“I just want him safe. I just want him to be okay. To come back to us.” Ash hears Max take a shaky breath. “Please, Ash. God. Please.”
Ash? Are they ... what are they asking Ash for? To be ... safe? Why? Why would ... anyone ... ?
“Please, Ash. Son. Please pull through.”
“He will.”
“I love him, Jess. I fucking love this kid.”
“I know. Me too. So many people love him.”
“Ash. My son. Please come back.”
And even though they must be talking to another Ash, for some reason, Ash almost ... almost wants to ...
Oh. It’s a dream.
It’s all ... just ...
The dream fades away into nothingness again.
— — —
4.
— — —
Michael is in the background of the video call, playing without a care in the world. Ash’s eyes follow him briefly before returning to Max and Jess onscreen.
“You two doing okay in New York?” Max asks.
“Yeah!” Eiji responds, enthusiastic. “Things are going well. How’s LA treating you?”
“It’s been all right,” Jessica responds. “Being close to my sister is nice, but New York had its appeal too.”
Ash wonders what she means. There’s not much to like about New York City. Not much here to care about.
“You could always move back,” Eiji teases. “We’d love to see you.”
“Yeah,” Ash agrees softly. And ... fuck, he really would love to have them back. Max, and Jessica, and Michael. They're the closest he’s had to a family in—how long now?
Not that they’d see it that way.
“We’ve actually considered it,” Max says, and Ash starts. They have? Why? That ... would be nice, but that’s not what’s best for them. He can’t bring himself to ask what could possibly draw them to New York City, though.
“At the very least, you should visit soon!” Eiji says.
“We will,” Max promises.
Michael appears onscreen again, up close to the camera this time. “We’re going to visit Ash and Eiji?” he asks. “I wanna see them!”
“You want to say hi on the call?” Max asks, pointing the camera more toward Michael.
“Hi, Ash! Hi, Eiji!” Michael yells.
“Hi, Michael,” Eiji responds brightly.
“Hey,” Ash breathes.
“You should get to bed, kiddo,” Jess says to Michael. “It’s earlier here, but pretty late for a seven year old,” Jess says apologetically.
Eiji laughs. “All right. Do you all need to sign out?”
“Yeah,” Max agrees. “Call more often, though! I know you don’t need your old dad around anymore, Ash, but it’s always good to hear from you two.”
“We’ll call again soon,” Eiji promises. “And more often. Sorry; settling down has kept us pretty busy.”
An understatement. Ash has nightmares every night. Panic attacks during the day. It’s a wonder Eiji puts up with him at all, now that he doesn’t need Ash to defend his life anymore.
“All right then. It’s a deal. Bye for now, kids,” Max says.
“Bye!”
“Later,” Jess says, smiling.
“Later,” Ash agrees. Soon, he hopes.
Fuck—why? Why does he want to hear from them again soon? It’s not like ... not like they have any obligation to him, or anything like that. Not like they really want to hear from Ash. Maybe next time they’ll intentionally call Eiji while Ash is out. Leave Ash behind, like they fucking should.
The call ends.
Ash sits there for a moment in silence, staring at the blank screen.
“You okay?” Eiji asks eventually. “Was seeing Michael hard?”
But—no, it wasn’t Michael. Not this time. Ash shakes his head, gripping the tablet too tightly.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Not Michael. Max,” Ash admits. He feels tears well up in his eyes, and—why? Fucking why? This is so stupid. Why would he cry over this man who probably doesn’t give a shit about him? Just because they haven’t seen each other in a while? Fucking pathetic. God ... Ash is so pathetic.
“What about Max?” Eiji asks. He gently takes the tablet out of Ash’s hands and sets it down on the table. “Did he say something that upset you?”
Shaking his head again, Ash takes a slow breath. “No, he ... he didn’t.” He wouldn’t, really. Ash has come to learn that, a little bit, with time.
Eiji doesn’t respond verbally. He just takes both of Ash’s hands in his and squeezes lightly. Gives Ash the time he needs to put his thoughts together.
“I miss him,” Ash admits. “I miss all of them, but—I fucking miss Max.”
“Of course you do,” Eiji says. “I miss them, too.”
“No, I mean—I miss him, Eiji. Isn’t that stupid? How could I ... God, how could I get attached to someone like this?”
“You’ve grown attached to me, haven’t you, love?”
“It’s different.” And it is. Eiji is different. He always has been. Eiji has always been Ash’s exception, the one person that Ash has come to learn will care for him no matter what. Unconditional love is an odd thing, but Eiji has proven himself time and time again.
“It might be different in some ways, but I think it still makes sense for you to miss him.”
Ash squeezes Eiji’s hands gently, then bites at his lip for a moment. “It’s not just that,” he admits. “It’s not just that I miss him.”
Eiji hums in reply, not pressuring Ash in the slightest.
“I want him to miss me, too. I ... I almost want to think that he does.” Ash laughs, bitter and hopeless. “Pathetic, isn’t it? Why would anyone miss me? Much less someone with a real ass family. Someone with his own kid. He has so many people who deserve his love. Why would he ... ? Fucking hell, Eiji.” Ash sobs. God, why is he fucking crying over this? That’s ... he’s a fucking mess. God damn it. God fucking damn it.
“He does miss you,” Eiji whispers. “I’m sure of it.”
“W-what?” Ash looks up, startled. He makes eye contact with Eiji, trying to find the lie. Eiji doesn’t normally lie to Ash, but—this has to be. He’s lying to make Ash feel better, obviously. That unconditional love thing, it makes people do stupid shit.
Like telling a whore that a grown man misses him. Misses him as anything more than ...
Fuck.
Ash pulls one of his hands away from Eij’s, rubbing at both of his eyes with it. “I want him to miss me like a father misses a son,” Ash confesses. “I want to be his son, Eiji. I want ... I want things I can’t fucking have. Shouldn’t I have given up on this bullshit over a decade ago? Shouldn’t I know better by now?” Eiji is one thing, but ... no one would want Ash as their son. No one wants to look at him with a fatherly gaze, or any shit like that. Whatever the fuck real fathers do. Fathers who don’t fuck their kids or whore them out to let others fuck. Fathers who ...
Who fucking care.
“I want him to care,” Ash cries. “I want him to care about me and look at me as family and I want a fucking family, Eiji! And I know it’s too much to ask for, I know I’m fucking stupid for wanting what I can never have. I know. I fucking know. But I can’t ... I can’t fucking help it. I just miss him and I want him back.”
Eiji’s eyes look a little too watery, and Ash curses himself. He’s not sure what he did to make Eiji cry, but he’s not even surprised anymore. He’s a fucking villian, and he always has been. It’s not a shock at all that he’s managing to hurt Eiji somehow.
“He does care,” Eiji says. His voice breaks a little. “He cares about you so much. And he misses you. And he loves you, Ash.”
No. That one—that’s ridiculous. That’s more than Ash could even bring himself to hope for, to ask for. That’s too much. Ash tries to laugh, but it comes out as just another sob. Pathetic. Pathetic, and broken, and hopeless and heartless and unwanted. That’s all he’s ever been.
“So many people love you, Ash.”
And Ash has a sense of deja vu for a moment, of lying in a hospital bed and hearing the words, So many people love him. But it’s ... god, it’s stupid. Fantasizing about a dream where he’s wanted. What a goddamn joke.
“You’re the only one,” Ash mumbles. He leans forward, and Eiji wraps his free arm around Ash’s back, holding him against his chest. “You’re the only one who could ever love me, and I don’t know why you do. You’re just—weird, I guess. But it’s just you. Only you.”
Eiji pulls Ash a little closer—impossibly closer, until they almost feel like one.
“It’s true that I love you, my dear,” Eiji whispers. “But I’m far from the only one. So many people care. So many people would do so much for you, you know that?”
“I don’t want them to,” Ash says. His voice is harsh, bitter, fucking broken. As broken as the rest of him.
“I know you don’t. Because you are good, and pure, and selfless, and you would go out of your way to make sure that no one gets hurt because of you. But so many people would willingly do the same for you, you know that? So many people would do anything to prevent any harm from coming to you. Myself, and Alex, and Ibe, and Jess, and Michael, and Max—”
“No,” Ash whispers. “They wouldn’t. No one would ...” Ash sighs, burying his face into Eiji’s chest. “They shouldn’t,” he revises. “Regardless of whether they would. They fucking shouldn’t. And all of them—they’re smart enough to realize that. So they wouldn’t.”
“Oh, Ash. My love, my heart, my soul. You are worth so much more than you see in yourself.”
That’s a stupid thing to say, isn’t it? Why would Ash be worth anything more than what he sees in himself? After all, who knows him better than himself? Who knows better what he’s been through, what he’s done? Who knows his sins, his disgrace, his failures better than he does?
No matter what anyone else thinks, Ash knows. He knows what he’s worth, and—nothing. It’s nothing. He’s worth fucking nothing.
But he wants to be worth something.
“I want ... with Max, I want to earn his love,” Ash whispers. And for once, love doesn’t mean sex. He doesn’t mean that he wants to ... to seduce him, or earn the right to be used. He doesn’t want to prove that he’s good enough in that sense. He just ...
He just wants that same, stupid fucking unconditional love that he’s always longed for. What he had hoped Jim would finally learn to give him after Griff left. What he never fucking got once Griff left. What he doesn’t deserve to have. He never did. Even Griff ... even Griff should have realized, really. He was a good brother, but he shouldn’t have been. Ash didn’t deserve that love. And Griff would have realized that, eventually, if he had been aware enough to know what Ash went through—what Ash did during his absence.
There’s one benefit to Griff’s death—he never found out the truth about Ash. About what he’s done. About who he fucking is.
But Max ... Max knows. Not everything, but enough. And he ... he can still stand to look at Ash, somehow. And maybe that’s not unconditional love, or anything even close to it. But maybe that’s something, isn’t it?
“Eiji,” Ash whines. “Eiji, I want him to love me.”
“He does,” Eiji whispers. “He loves you so much, Ash. So deeply, and so true. I know, because I love you too, and I can see it in him.”
Ash shakes his head, smearing tears on Eiji’s shirt.
“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eiji says. “But I hope—I think, really—that one day you will. I believe that one day you will. You’ll see that I’m not the only one who cares. I’m not the exception, Ash.”
But he is. Eiji is. He’s always been Ash’s exception, and he knows that.
“You’re a lovable person, sweetheart.”
That startles Ash for a moment, but then he laughs. God—a joke. Eiji’s joking. And Ash is stupid to believe it for even a second. Fuck.
“Right,” Ash says, laughter still in his voice. “Yeah, right. Lovable. Just because you somehow managed to love me doesn’t mean that I’m a lovable person, Eiji. You’re just ... you. You’re different. You’re special, and amazing, and brilliant and warm and lovely, and you can find it in yourself to love me despite everything. But other people aren’t like you. You’re the only one who would ever love me. The only one who could ever love me, and the only one who ever will. And ... and that’s okay.”
Eiji holds Ash close against him. Ash can feel him shaking his head. “You’ll realize in time,” he says gently. “I proved it to you, and others will, too. I’m sorry that you’ve been told otherwise, but you’re an incredibly lovable person.”
Ash scoffs. If he’s lovable, it’s only in one way.
“They miss you,” Eiji reassures again, and Ash wants so badly to believe it. “Max misses you so much, okay? I know it.”
And maybe Eiji really does believe it, but Ash knows better.
— — —
5.
— — —
Max, Jess, and Michael move back to New York City. Michael’s a bit older now—going on nine—and Jess says that they don’t need to be as near to her sister anymore.
“Besides,” she joked, “We always have you two for babysitting, right?”
Eiji agreed enthusiastically, but Ash froze up. Babysitting? God, yeah right. Who would trust Ash with their kid? Still, he spends time with Michael sometimes with Max and Jess there, and usually with Eiji as well.
Almost like it means something.
But it doesn’t, he reminds himself. It doesn’t, it doesn’t. It fucking doesn’t. They probably only invite Ash over because of Eiji. Or—for convenience, because they don’t know anyone else in New York City. To cure their loneliness, maybe. Ash is familiar with being a cure for loneliness.
He’s been that for a few hundred people, after all.
It’s in a little different of a way, this time, but at his heart Ash is still the same person he’s always been. Still that same fucking whore he was born as.
Born a vulgar prostitute, Dino told him. And he was right.
It’s ... kind of nice, though, playing at being something else. Reminds him of playing father and son with Max, so long ago. Trying to make some sort of legitimate connection out of a game of necessity.
Pathetic.
Just a lowborn slut trying to escape the life he was born into.
And he has Eiji, now, and he truly believes that Eiji loves him, even though he shouldn’t. He feels bad for Eiji loving him, honestly. Hates that he hurts Eiji so much with every breath he takes. But Eiji’s made it clear that it won’t change.
So Ash makes do. He plays the part of ... whatever this is, now. Of being Eiji’s lover, in a way different than he’s been a lover to hundreds of others. Of going to university as though he didn’t drop out of elementary school. Of planning for the future, moving into a bigger apartment and acting like things are okay.
But they’re not.
They’re not, and they never will be.
And soon ... Well, Ash is just waiting for it all to fall apart. He has Eiji, and he trusts Eiji. But his classmates, his teachers? His friends?
Max.
It’s only a matter of time before they all realize that Ash isn’t worth it. That he’s ... not good for anything except what he’s been trained to do. And then ...
The best Ash can hope for is that they’ll leave.
Eiji will probably leave him too, at that point. After being hurt so badly by Ash for so long. And it’ll be for the best. Ash will be ... almost grateful, really, when Eiji leaves. Grateful that Ash won’t be hurting him anymore.
Max calls Ash, and Ash picks up on the first ring.
Fuck, he thinks. Desperate much? He’s gotta think that’s creepy as hell.
“Hey,” Ash says.
“Hey, kid,” Max responds, and he doesn’t sound disgusted. “I’m near your university right now and was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch?”
“... With you?” Ash clarifies.
Max chuckles. “Yeah. What else would I mean?”
Okay, maybe that was obvious. But ... why? Why would Max want to get lunch with Ash? Eiji’s not here, and it’s not like they have to pretend anymore.
But ... Ash does want to. He really fucking does.
“Sure,” he says, but it comes out too soft, and he wonders if his voice is even loud enough for the mic to pick up.
“Awesome. I’ll meet you at that cafe down the street from the engineering building?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah. Sounds great.”
Ash takes his time walking there, somehow still thinking it’s a joke in the back of his mind. Maybe Max won’t even show up. That’d be funny, wouldn’t it? Then Max will text him, hours later, saying that he went to get lunch with Eiji or Jessica or Ibe or George or—fucking anyone other than Ash.
Yeah, that would be a good joke.
Ash would laugh.
But when he gets to the cafe, Max is already there. He’s sitting at a small table, and his jacket is strewn across the other chair. Holding the place for ... for Ash.
Max stands up as Ash approaches. “Took you a bit, kiddo,” he teases. He claps a hand onto Ash’s shoulder, and Ash doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even move away. Weird.
“Sorry,” Ash responds. “Got ... distracted.” By his own thoughts, maybe, but distracted nonetheless.
Waving it off, Max says, “Don’t worry about it. What do you want? My treat.”
Ash cocks an eyebrow. “You know I still have all the ... ?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a millionaire and whatever. That’s why you’re paying your own tuition. But let your old dad treat you to a lunch for once, okay?”
No such thing as a free lunch, Ash’s mind provides. His econ teacher would be proud. But ... God. Fuck. Max isn’t like that. He’s shown countless times before. He might not ... care, exactly, but he’s not going to take Ash home and fuck him, either.
It’s just ... hard, sometimes, to not think that way.
Ash orders a salad, and Max gets a full lunch platter.
“That’s all you’re getting?” Max asks, and suddenly Ash is thrown back to—has it been years already? When they played father and son that very first time, sitting in a restaurant much more upscale than this, wearing designer clothing and about to purchase a condo in cold cash.
“I’m ... watching my weight,” Ash says, like he did so long ago, but his voice sounds distant to him now. It’s a little surreal, being in this situation so reminiscent of that game they were forced to play.
Well, the game Max was forced to play. Ash ... Ash enjoyed it, if he’s being honest with himself. But he could never tell Max that. He’d never want to guilt him that way. Can you imagine how awful that would feel? Hearing from a whore like Ash that he liked pretending to be his son. Yeah, that’s a great way to keep their relationship amicable. Fuck.
But Max doesn’t follow the same script from before. Instead of continuing to joke about how little Ash is eating, his expression turns serious.
“You’re not eating enough, are you?” he asks. “I thought you’d start gaining weight more once everything was over, but—you don’t quite look healthy yet, kid.”
Ash bristles. “I’m—not—”
“I don’t mean to upset you.” Max’s voice is soft. Why? “I’m just worried about you. You’re seeing a therapist now, right?”
Ash nods slowly. It’s a fairly new development, and Ash has been struggling to ... open up. But he’s trying. For Eiji’s sake, if nothing else. If Eiji is determined to stay with him, he wants to be as little a drain on him as possible. To hurt him as little as possible.
So he’s trying.
“Have you mentioned your eating habits to your therapist?” Max asks.
Ash’s throat feels a little dry. He swallows, shaking his head. “We’re focusing on ... other things.” Like the metric shitton of trauma that Ash has supposedly gone through. Not that he’s denying what he’s been through, but ... trauma doesn’t feel right. Feels too ... God, it’s hard to describe. Like he’s stealing resources from people who really need it.
From people who didn’t deserve what they’ve been through.
“Yeah,” Max relents. “That makes sense. Hopefully focusing on everything else will improve your eating habits too. For now, do you think you’d be able to order something else besides the salad?”
Ash shakes his head. “I’m not—hungry.”
Max’s expression softens far beyond what Ash deserves to have directed at him. “Please, kiddo? For me?”
“W-why?”
“Hm?”
“Why do you—care?”
Max looks taken aback now. “Because I care about you. You’re like a son to me, you know that?”
Ash doesn’t reply. He can’t. He fucking can’t. Max is lying, anyway. Ash ... hasn’t figured out why yet, but he’s lying. He has to be. No one thinks of Ash as their son. No one would even want Ash as their son. No one, no one ...
Max has said this enough times now that it doesn’t even surprise Ash anymore. Doesn’t catch him off guard. His heart doesn’t skip a beat; his breathing doesn’t stop.
But it still makes him ... sad.
Maybe Max is just that cruel.
Looking down at the worn wood laminate of the cafe table, Ash bites at his lip.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Max asks. But he doesn’t sound angry. Not the voice Ash would expect if he were pissed about Ash not falling for his tricks. Not the way Dino would react if Ash ever dared to show he could outsmart him.
“Of course not,” Ash replies flatly. Might as well tell the truth. “Why would I? How could I?”
“It’s been years,” Max breathes. “Son ...”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” Ash snaps. “I don’t want to hear your stupid jokes. I don’t ... I can’t ... handle it. Don’t make fun of me like that, okay? It’s fucked up. I ...” I’ve been through enough, he thinks. But that’s—maybe that’s not true. So he doesn’t voice it. Just clenches his fists under the table.
“I mean it when I call you that,” Max lies. “I won’t say it if it hurts you, but ... you’re family, Ash.”
Shaking his head violently, Ash scoffs. “You’re cruel,” he says. He stands up, grabbing a $50 bill from his wallet and slamming it onto the table. “I’ll see you later, Dad.”
Ash is crying before he even makes it to the door.
— — —
+1.
— — —
Aslan laughs as Griff holds him up in the air and spins him around.
“You,” Griff says, “are getting big, aren’t you?”
“I’m growing!” Aslan replies. “I’ll be big and strong like you one day!”
“Yes you will,” Griff agrees, gently placing Aslan down on the ground. “Maybe even bigger and stronger. You’re going to grow up and do amazing things, you know that, kiddo?”
Aslan giggles. He’s not sure if it’s true, really—he doesn’t have a lot of friends at school, and he knows Griff is leaving for the military soon. Griff and his teachers tell him he’s smart, and that he has a lot of potential, but—if that were true, their dad wouldn’t treat him the way he does, would he?
Griff is the amazing one. Their dad loves Griff so much. Aslan feels bad, sometimes, that he makes Griff live with him in the house instead of living in the diner with Jennifer and their dad. He’d be happier there, wouldn’t he?
“What’s wrong, bud?” Griff asks. He’s the only one who seems to be able to tell when Aslan isn’t feeling well, even if he’s just not feeling well in his heart.
“You should ...” Aslan starts, but he hesitates. He would be sad if Griff decided to leave him.
Griff crouches down to Aslan’s level. “You can tell me anything, okay? What is it?”
Aslan huffs. “You should go live with Dad and Jennifer, instead of me. They love you, and—and you’ll be happier there. You shouldn’t ... have to take care of me.”
Aslan found out at school. The other kids, their siblings who are in high school don’t take care of them like Griff does for Aslan. Their parents do, and their siblings are ... still kids. Like Griff should be.
One of the kids told him. That he’s ruining Griff’s life. Her mom told her that Aslan is ruining Griff’s life.
Aslan rubs at his eyes.
“What?” Griff says, shocked. “Where’d you get that idea, bud? There’s no way I’m leaving you.”
“You should!” Aslan cries. He sniffles, now, and runs up to Griff. Griff opens his arms for Aslan, holding him close as he sobs. “You should go away and leave me by myself. You shouldn’t—it shouldn’t be like this.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Griff agrees, and Aslan’s heart stops. Is Griff really going to leave? “But even if that’s the case, that’s not your fault, you know that? Jim is ... he’s not a good dad to you. But that’s not your fault. And I’m not going to leave you on your own just because he treats you badly.”
“But you’re leaving,” Aslan mumbles. “You’re going to the military.”
Griff sighs. “That’s ... different. I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t want to leave you, but this way I can go to college, okay? And then I can get a better job and we’ll be a better family together. I’m not smart like you. You’re gonna get so many scholarships, you know that? You’re gonna do some amazing things with your life.”
Aslan shakes his head. It’s not worth Griff leaving. They’re doing okay here. He doesn’t want more money, or—more anything. He just wants Griff to stay, even if he really should leave.
“Hey,” Griff say softly. “You wanna ride around on my shoulders a bit? You like being up high, right?”
Aslan perks up just a little. He does like that feeling—almost like flying.
“And then,” Griff continues, “when you’re all tuckered out, we can come back and read some books before bedtime. What are you reading right now, anyway?”
“The Catcher in the Rye!” Aslan replies enthusiastically. “It’s really good, Griff! Have you read it?”
“Holy—wow, Aslan, you’re reading that kind of stuff already?”
Aslan nods. “I got it from the library. I had to use self checkout because I got in trouble last time I checked out a big kid book.”
Griff breathes out a laugh. “Yeah, I can see why. I wasn’t reading that stuff until high school. But ... okay. I’ll read you The Catcher in the Rye as a bedtime story, I guess. Does that sound good?”
Smiling now, Aslan nods again. “Yeah! Thank you, Griff.”
“Nope,” Griff says. He picks Aslan up and spins him again, and Aslan laughs in delight. “Thank you, kiddo. You’re the best ever, you know that?”
“Nuh-uh,” Aslan says. “You definitely are.” He hesitates for a moment, and Griff notices again.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’ll really come back?” he asks. “You’re leaving, but you’ll really come back?”
“Of course. I could never leave you alone for long. I’ll always come back to you, okay? We’re in this together.”
And Aslan believes him. With his whole heart, he believes him.
— — —
“Are you—sure?” Ash asks.
Eiji laughs. “Of course. What, you’re scared of a ten year old?”
And yes, kind of, but not quite. He’s scared of hurting the ten year old. Of tainting him.
“God. Fuck. Why are they even letting me do this?”
Eiji tuts. “Watch your language around Michael, okay? And what do you mean?”
“Like—why would they let me near their kid? Aren’t they afraid he’ll ...” turn out like me?
“Ash.” Eiji sighs. “You’ll do amazing. It’s just babysitting, and I’ll be there with you the whole time, okay? If you get—if anything happens, you can always head home and I’ll take over for the rest of the night, okay?”
“Yeah,” Ash breathes. “You might have to—yeah. Thank you.”
Being around Michael is hard, sometimes. It was harder, almost, when he was younger. But he’s still—Ash was still ... at that age ...
Eiji lifts one hand from the steering wheel and reaches across the console to hold Ash’s hand. “You okay, hun?”
“I’ll—” He cuts off, clearing his throat. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
They make it to Jess and Max’s place, and Ash takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car. Shit. Is he really doing this? Fucking babysitting? It’s not like ... Michael isn’t like Skipper, or like ... like Ash. Skip was a street kid, too. Ash was the best he had, even if he wasn’t much.
And Ash ... Ash’s childhood was ...
“Fuck,” Ash says under his breath. “Fuck.”
Eiji puts a hand on his shoulder, so gentle that Ash doesn’t even think about flinching. “I’m here with you, love. I’m always here with you.”
Max answers the door, and Ash takes a step back from the entryway. Max and Eiji both glance at him, but neither of them call him out.
“Hey!” Max greets. “Thanks for helping us out tonight. God, Jess and I haven’t had a date night in ages.” He ushers them inside, and Ash cautiously enters into the living room.
“It’s not a problem at all,” Eiji says, smiling. “We’re happy to help, and especially to spend time with Michael.”
Michael is in the living room when they enter, playing with—Legos or some shit, it looks like. Like a real kid. Like the kind of kid Ash never got to be at his age.
“Ash!” he exclaims. He runs up to them, blowing right past Eiji to wrap his arms around Ash’s legs.
“Well, I see he has a favorite between us,” Eiji teases. Ash’s breathing catches. Why? Why would Michael even ... touch him?
Oh. Because he doesn’t know. He’s too ... too young to know better.
“Hey, Michael,” Ash breathes. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to—or, allowed to, really—use terms like kiddo with him. Max uses those terms with Ash, but—but that’s a joke. And Ash doesn’t want to ...
Fuck. Why is this so hard? He’s already overanalyzing everything.
It’s just babysitting, he tells himself. Just ... just one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. Just babysitting.
Once Michael releases Ash’s legs, Jess walks up and hugs Eiji, and then Ash. It takes a second, but Ash hugs her back. It’s a little slow, a little awkward, but he manages it. Eiji smiles at him. Fuck, it’s really been years, and Ash still can’t even play along like this?
“Thanks so much, you two,” Jess says.
“Any time,” Eiji replies. “We’d be happy to babysit more in the future too!”
“Don’t say that quite yet,” Max warns. “He can be a bit of a terror at times, right?” He ruffles Michael’s hair, and Michael just laughs. Doesn’t cry out, doesn’t even pull away.
“No way,” Eiji says. He crouches down to Michael’s level. “I’m sure he’s going to be a little angel for us, aren’t you?”
“Yeah!” Michael agrees. “I’m only bad with Daddy.”
Jess snorts. “You wanna say that to my face?” She brushes a hand down Eiji’s arm. “I’m sure you two will do great, though. He’s a good kid at heart, and he loves you two so much. He’s been talking all day about how excited he is to spend a day with you.” She glances over at Ash. “Especially you.”
“W-what?” Ash stutters out. “Why?”
Jess just shakes her head, smiling. “We should get going. Our reservation is in twenty. Text or call if you need anything, okay?”
“Sounds good,” Eiji replies.
“Bye, kids,” Max says.
Ash takes a deep breath. “Bye.”
They leave, closing the door behind them.
Ash turns to face the living room, and Michael and Eiji.
Michael giggles. “I have you two all to myself!” he exclaims. Ash cringes a little at the wording.
God, he’s just a kid. You’re really that fucked up that a kid’s harmless words are going to fuck you over like this?
Eiji glances at Ash, softly bumping his own hand against his. Ash catches his hand and squeezes softly, grateful.
“You do,” Eiji tells Michael. “Is there anything you’d like to do with us while we’re here?”
And that’s ... fuck, that’s so similar to—what Ash would say to—clients.
“Play!” Michael says, and it breaks the script. Ash shakes his head, coming back to reality a bit.
“What do you want to play?” Ash asks, trying to engage. He thinks back to ... when was the last time someone cared for him as a kid? Griff? “Do you want me to carry you on my shoulders?” He always liked when Griff did that for him.
But Michael sticks his tongue out, shaking his head. “I’m too old for that!” he says. “No way.”
How was Ash supposed to know that? Fuck. This is so difficult. Ash guesses Michael is 10, instead of the 6 Ash was last time he saw Griff. Is it really that different?
Ash bites at his lip, and Eiji squeezes his hand gently. “It’s okay,” Eiji says under his breath, just loud enough for Ash to hear. “You’re doing great.”
But he’s not.
“What do you want to do, then?” Ash asks.
Michael grins. “Play with dolls!” he declares.
They all sit on the living room floor, and Michael assigns each of them either a doll or an action figure, then takes three of them for himself.
Ash stares at the doll in disbelief. How does this even work? He and Griff couldn’t afford a lot of stuff like this when he was growing up.
But Eiji seems to know what he’s doing, so Ash follows his lead. And ... it’s not so bad, really. It starts to make sense, after a bit, and it’s ... almost fun?
Weird. Why would I be having fun with this? Ash almost laughs out loud. He’s of legal drinking age, and here he is having fun playing dolls with a ten year old. What the fuck is wrong with him?
You never got the chance to play like this when you should have, a voice in his head provides, and it sounds suspiciously like his therapist. He pushes it away, though. He’s not going to worry about the why right now. If he’s having fun playing with dolls with Michael ...
Fuck it. He’s just going to have fun playing with dolls with Michael.
When it’s time for dinner, Eiji comments that Jess put leftovers in the fridge for them to heat up for dinner—enough for all of them—but Michael protests.
“I don’t want to eat pasta again,” he pouts. “We had that last night!”
“That is how leftovers usually work, yes,” Eiji says, but he’s laughing.
“I want pizza!” Michael declares.
Eiji shakes his head. “Your mommy told us to give you the leftover pasta.”
“Eiji,” Ash mumbles. “Eiji, let’s buy him a pizza.”
“Ash!” Eiji scolds.
“What? It’s not like we don’t have the money for it. And it’ll ...” It’ll make him happy. In a way Ash never got to be.
He doesn’t say that part out loud, but Eiji sees right through him. He nods. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s order a pizza. That’s what you want, right, kiddo?” he asks Michael.
“Yeah!” Michael cheers. “Pizza, pizza!”
Ash can’t help but smile.
“Thank you, Ash!”
Ash blinks, surprised. Why is he thanking Ash? Ash doesn’t ... he doesn’t deserve any sort of thanks. All he did was convince Eiji to order a pizza. It’s not—that’s not a big deal, is it?
They watch a kids’ movie while they eat the pizza together, and it feels ... almost normal. Almost natural. Easy.
After dinner, Michael’s clearly a bit tired.
“Do you want to head to bed?” Ash asks.
But he shakes his head. “No! If I go to sleep, you’ll be gone in the morning.”
Startled, Ash feels a warmth of sorts in his chest.
“I don’t want you to leave ...” Michael whines. “Ash ...”
“Hey, I’m here,” Ash assures. “And you don’t have to go to bed yet if you don’t want to.”
Eiji sighs. “It is his bedtime soon,” he chides.
“Come on, Eiji, please?” Ash asks. “We never get to see him. Not just us like this. Please?”
Eiji laughs. “Which one of you is the ten year old again?”
Oh. Fuck. Ash feels himself blushing at that, and he looks away.
“I’ll just—read to him, or something.”
“Okay. Whatever you two want to do is okay with me.”
Michael cheers, and brings Ash his favorite book. The three of them press impossibly close to each other on the couch, with Ash in the middle. Michael wraps both of his arms around one of Ash’s, and Eiji rests his head against Ash’s shoulder.
Ash looks at the book Michael brought him. He’s surprised, for a moment—it’s a children’s chapter book. Nothing like what Ash was reading as a kid. But he doesn’t question it, and just reads the story to the kid. He tries to do voices for the characters, as best as he can, and to give some real emotion to it. The way ...
The same way that Griff did for him.
They’re still reading when Max and Jess get home. Michael is on the verge of sleep, barely able to keep his eyes open. But every time Ash asks if he wants to go to bed, he just asks Ash to keep reading.
Ash is expecting Max and Jess to scold them, but instead, Jess just smiles.
“You three are up late,” she says. “Or, two of you, at least.”
“Huh?” Ash asks, then looks over to realize that Eiji fell asleep leaning on him. Oh. Fuck, that’s cute. “Sorry,” Ash breathes, looking back over to Max and Jess.
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Max replies. “I’m glad you’re all having fun.”
Michael stirs, looking up at his parents. “You’re home,” he says, but for some reason he sounds disappointed instead of happy. “Does that mean Ash has to go home now?”
“Yeah, buddy, it does,” Max replies. “And it means you should get to bed.”
Pouting, Michael huffs. “Don’t wanna,” he says, but his voice is heavy and Ash knows how tired he is.
“Come on, Michael,” he says softly. “It’s late. Time for bed.” Eiji is starting to move a bit on Ash’s other side, slowly waking up.
Michael sniffs, like he’s on the verge of crying. “You’ll come back soon, Ash?”
Startled, Ash responds, “Uh, yeah. If you want me to, I mean.”
“Yeah!” Michael says, then glances at his parents. “I mean, yes, please.
“Then sure,” Ash breathes. “I’ll come back soon.” Suddenly he jumps, looking over to Max and Jess. “I mean, if that’s okay! Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, Ash,” Jess says, smiling. “You’re always welcome.”
Eiji isn’t leaning on Ash anymore, so Ash starts to stand up, but Michael catches his hand and pulls him back down.
“Ash,” Michael whines. “I’ll miss you!”
“I’ll—I’ll miss you too, Michael,” Ash admits.
“I’m so excited,” Michael says, mumbling now.
“For what?” Ash asks fondly.
“I’m gonna tell all my friends at school that I got to spend a whole day with my big brother.”
Ash’s breathing stops entirely. He can’t even respond. With ... with his what?
He stares wide eyed at Michael, even as Jess gently leads the kid off to his bedroom. Eiji mumbles something to Max, more fully awake now, but Ash doesn’t even hear it.
Michael’s brother?
Eiji gently takes Ash’s hand, and Ash looks at him, the world returning slowly.
“What’s wrong, love?” Eiji asks.
“He ...” Ash starts. “He called me his brother,” Ash breathes.
“Of course he did,” Eiji replies, smiling softly. “What did you expect?”
Max looks at Ash, and his expression is so incredibly gentle. “I told you, kid,” he whispers. “You’re family.”
He ... he is?
Oh.
And now Ash sniffles, feeling tears collecting in his eyes. He shakes his head.
“I—I can’t—I’m not. I can’t be.”
“But you are,” Max says, coming closer to the couch.
Eiji releases Ash’s hand, gently nudging him in Max’s direction. Ash stands abruptly, stumbling toward Max. A sob tears through him as he pathetically falls against Max. But Max just wraps his arms around Ash, not even upset.
“I can’t!” Ash says again. “I’m not ... I don’t deserve ... No one would want ...”
“I want you with us, Son,” Max whispers. “And you deserve a family. You are family. You always have been. To me, to Jess, and to Michael. We want you as a part of this family.”
Ash shakes his head against Max’s neck, truly sobbing now. “I’m sorry!” he cries.
“There’s no reason to be,” Max assures, holding Ash even tighter. One of his hands runs softly up and down Ash’s back, but—it doesn’t feel greedy; it doesn’t slip too low, or—or anything threatening at all. It’s just ...
Protective.
Like he wants to protect Ash.
But why would ... ?
“I’m sorry,” Ash says again, a whisper this time.
“You never have to apologize to me. I’m proud of you, Son. I’ve always been proud of you, and I still am.”
“You are?” Ash asks, hesitant.
“That’s right. All I want is to brag about you.”
Eiji stands, approaching the two of them, and puts a comforting hand on Ash’s shoulder.
“Who knew?” Eiji asks, a smile in his voice. “All it took was for Michael to call you his brother.”
Max laughs, but it’s still soft and gentle. “Yeah, we could have just asked him years ago. Imagine how much time that would have saved.”
Ash doesn’t respond to that, hands pressed between his chest and Max’s, face buried in Max’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, like it’s the only fucking thing he knows how to say.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Cry it out if you need to, but I promise it’s okay. I’m here for you, okay, Son?”
“Y-yeah,” Ash whispers. “Thank you ... Dad.”
Dad.
