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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 37
The Meaning of Home Chapter 37
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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It’s been a chaotic week since Pawel returned from the Dreamscape. He’s spent a large part of it back in Unity, making sure that his and Conor’s life has been packed into boxes. He negotiated with Anita for everything she wanted to keep in the house, and had Rowan draw up an official rental agreement. As much as her younger daughter loved Valiant, this house is convenient and lets them all settle in while searching for something permanent.
Pawel is pretty sure that if he has to, he’ll be able to rent it out when Anita eventually finds her own place. There’s always a market near the college, particularly when adjunct faculty come and go over the years.
He made it back to Leo and Colt’s so that he could meet up with Lucy and Rowan when they came down to help Emma’s parents re-establish themselves. Then he spent an entire day helping pack that house, so that by Thursday night everyone is living out of suitcases and eating take-out off of paper plates with plasticware. The move starts early on Saturday morning, and no one wants to be still packing while they’re loading the moving truck.
Saturday is going to be chaos enough. They have plenty of help arranged, but there are a lot of people involved. More, now that it’s been decided that Emma’s parents will be taking the second house. Their community has officially grown by an entire family.
Which means Pawel is moving into the main house with Colt and Leo. He’s known this for a while, but having the other house completely unavailable makes it more… real.
The one thing he hasn’t managed to do in the past week is get over to his father’s place to pack up the few items he has there, along with the contents of Conor’s room. So Friday he heads over mid-morning, figuring that he’ll get that done while his father’s at work. It’s early enough that he should still be on time for the closing at two, in the lawyer’s office downtown.
There’s a car on the street when he pulls in, visiting someone next door, he assumes. He unlocks the door with his own key, only registering the country music playing loudly after he pulls the door open. There’s a wordless shout and the music cuts off; Pawel drops his keys in response, looking into the kitchen. A woman stands there, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, tendrils escaped around her face as if she hasn’t managed to brush it yet this morning. She’s tall, with soft features and lines in her face, and has one hand pressed to her chest, over a t-shirt that Pawel knows belongs to his dad. 
“You scared me,” she says. “John didn’t say you were coming over today.”
Pawel blinks, his mind sorting through data quickly. He knows who she has to be, even if they haven’t met. He should be able to come up with her name. “Daisy,” he says, latching onto it like a lifeline. “You’re my dad’s—” He stumbles, because girlfriend sounds so high school, but he can’t think of a different term. Are Leo and Colt his boyfriends? No, that’s not the point right now; he needs to deal with the person in front of him.
“Girlfriend.” She holds her hand out as she approaches him. “Yes, that’s me. We should’ve met before now, but your father seemed to think you’ve got something against him dating.” Her smile is pleasant. Friendly and open. When Pawel clasps her hand, she offers a firm, quick shake. For a moment he thinks she’s going to hug him, then she hesitates and the moment passes as she withdraws her hand.
This is awkward.
“I don’t,” he says. “Have anything against him dating. I’ve assumed he has. It’s been a long time since Mom died, and—” Pawel winces, because he’s sure this isn’t coming out right. “I just don’t want to think about him having sex, and Dad overshares. So we’ve had a don’t ask, don’t tell policy for a long, long time. Which was good, because it meant he didn’t ask about the specific details of my life when I was doing things he probably didn’t approve of. Like everything in high school, and getting my not-girlfriend pregnant in college.” He glances at the door, relieved when that isn’t somehow a cue for Chelsea to walk in. “But yeah. It also means I didn’t know he was dating until I came home this summer. I take it this has been…?”
“Five years now,” Daisy says with a small smile. “At least if you ask me. He’ll tell you it’s been maybe nine months, possibly as much as a year. He thinks we started dating a year ago September, at the fall picnic.”
“How does that work?” Pawel closes the door carefully. “Also, if you’d like to—” He gestures at her bare legs. “I can wait while you get dressed. Are you…?”
“Living here? No, not really. Not yet.” Daisy walks into the kitchen, sliding eggs from a pan onto a plate and taking it with her to sit on the couch. “I’m retired, and I do have my own place, but sometimes it’s just nice to wake up here with him. I’m sure you know how that feels.” She smiles at him, and Pawel flushes, because yes, he does. Intimately. And that just makes him think—
Academically he knows that sex is a thing and that other people have it. Obviously. He can’t explain why he’s so hung up on not knowing that his own father is obviously happy and healthy and having a great time—no, he tried. He’s not thinking about that.
“I’m older than John—not that it means much at our age,” Daisy continues. “It just means I’ve been able to retire, between my own savings and the remains of my husband’s life insurance money.” Her expression is soft when she glances up. “I know what it’s like to be alone. It’s been a good thirty years for me, since before you were born. This relationship with John has been like a whole new start.”
Pawel sits at the other end of the couch. “How have you been together five years, if he thinks…?”
She laughs softly. “Well, we’ve known each other a good deal longer than that. I used to be a cop in his precinct. I started after my Sammy passed, actually. We didn’t have any kids. I wanted to do something good for the world, so I thought police work might be that. I retired six years ago, after twenty-five years of service. When they took me out for a drink to celebrate, I asked your father if he’d like to get dinner, or see a movie.” She pauses long enough to eat, gesturing with her fork when she speaks again. “We got to be friends. More, sometimes, when we felt like it. So I guess in my head things changed about when I realized that the only old fool I was fooling around with was him.”
“And he took a little longer to catch on?”
The look Daisy gives him is sharp, her smile wide. “Leo Papa tells me that the Szczek men are just a bit oblivious when it comes to emotional entanglements.”
Pawel makes a face. “We come around eventually.”
“At least you didn’t take years.” Daisy looks at him. “They’re good men, with a good family. I think it makes your father happy to see you with them. I’ve heard about your ex, too. Sounds as if things are complicated.”
“In a good way,” Pawel says. Yes, it’s taken him a while to get here, but he thinks he likes where he is. With Leo and Colt. With Chelsea wandering in and out at inopportune times. “It might still take some getting used to, but it’s worth it. We move into the new place tomorrow. Dad said he’d be helping.”
“I’ll come with.” Daisy answers the question he doesn’t ask. “I think John’s enjoying having a few extra grandchildren around. I get the feeling there will be more.”
The way she says it, Pawel isn’t sure if it’s an observation of the family he’s joining, or something more. “Are you prescient?”
“Talented? No.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were Talent in my family—it’d explain a few things about my cousins—but as far as I know I’m not. Your mother though—I could almost see the way she glowed. You’ve got the same look about you.”
Wait. “You knew my mother?”
“Weren’t you listening?” Daisy snorts softly. “I joined the force before you were born, Pawel. I remember when she was pregnant with you. The way John would spoil her, and the way she’d light up the room when she walked in. I remember Sylvia well.” Her gaze narrows, mouth turned up at the corners in an impish smile. “I could tell you stories. Things you probably don’t remember, from when you were young. Things your father might still find too painful to talk about.”
Pawel gets the feeling it’s a bribe, but he doesn’t care. “I’d love it if you’d talk to Conor about her, too,” he says quietly. “I’ve told him everything I can, but I was twelve when she died. My memories are fractured sometimes. I think it’s like the whole world ended then, and I started fresh as a new person. Death can do that to you.”
“Imagine how Conor felt when you disappeared,” Daisy says solemnly. “Or how John felt, either time. Even knowing you were coming back this time, there’s still that uncertainty. He didn’t sleep well while you were gone.”
And that was definitely Pawel’s fault. “I’m sorry.” He pauses to let the apology have the weight it needs. “It was worth it, in the end. Emma has her parents back, and I think I’ve learned something more about my mother, and about how magic—Talent—works. It’s never-ending. I think I’ll be on my death bed someday and I won’t have learned everything there is to know. Every day seems to bring something new.”
“That’s how the world is.” She leans in, expression still serious. “If you ever think you know everything, you’re wrong.” Her smile blooms suddenly then; Pawel feels the mood shift in the room. “I’m glad to have finally met you properly as an adult, Pawel. Your son is a good kid. You’ve done well with him. Smart, polite. Gets his work done.”
“Are we talking about the same kid?”
“They always behave better for someone else. And that new family of yours. Of course, I’ve known them both before now. Good men,” she says. “I approve.”
“I’m still a little surprised at how well Dad—and you—are taking the idea that I’m in a relationship with two men.” It’s getting easier to say it so plainly. It’s also getting easier to accept it. They’re closing on a house today—well, Leo and Colt are, but Pawel’s moving in with them tomorrow. They are joining their families.
“I’m old, but not dead. I see how attractive they are.” Daisy winks, and Pawel feels the heat in his cheeks. “Your father respects them. I actually remember you dating them years ago. The things your father worried about… he knew more than you thought.”
Pawel covers his face with one hand. “Great. Remember: that’s why we had a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. It was better if we pretended that he didn’t know.”
“I understand. Look. It’s clear they both care about you deeply, and that you care about them and their children in return,” Daisy says. “I lived through the sixties. All these ideas that young people think are new, and that adults can’t understand—the adults that say they can’t get it don’t want to understand. It’s willful ignorance. Polyamory has existed for far longer than just your generation. It might not be my cup of tea, but I can see when it’s a good thing for someone else.”
“I didn’t think it was going to be my thing, either,” Pawel admits. “But I never stopped thinking about them. They were the ones that got away.”
“And now you’ve reeled them back in.” Daisy pats his knee. “Good for you.” She stands up, taking her plate with her. “I’m just going to go clean up in the kitchen. You came here to pack, didn’t you? Why don’t you get together whatever boxes you need, and when you’re done, I’ll help you carry them out to the car. The guest room still looks like Conor lives here, and it seems like Emma’s left a lot of her stuff here as well. Might take a couple of trips.”
“I was actually just going to pack what I could now, and have Leo swing by with the minivan later,” Pawel admits. “There’s no way everything’s fitting in my car. You go on and do whatever you were going to do this morning. I’ll grab the boxes from my car and get started. And….” He feels like no matter what he says, it won’t be enough. “Thank you for being here. My father seems happy, and so do you, and that’s a good thing. I’ll try to be more involved. Although I think we’ll both be glad if I’m not sleeping on his couch anymore.”
“We’ll definitely all be glad of that,” Daisy agrees. “Go on now and get everything done. I’ll come help, if you’d like.”
It’s putting things in boxes. It’s the same thing he’s done all week, back in Unity. But at the same time… this could be good. “On one condition,” he says. “You tell me stories. Not about my dad, or about my mom, either. Tell me more about you. I’d like to get caught up on everything I’ve missed.”
Her laugh is loud and bright. “I think we can do that, although maybe not quite everything. We’ll let your dad and me keep a few secrets.”
Yeah, Dad has definitely found his match in her. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” he says. Maybe there are pictures somewhere, something with Daisy in the background, from when Pawel was younger and going to those departmental picnics. Something to help him place her in the life that existed before Pawel moved to Unity. Apparently she’s been here a long time. Pawel should make an effort to connect with what he’s missed.
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tryslora · 29 days
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I have seen your last post about how writing a fight scene s similar to writing a sex scene. Where would I be able to read some of your stuff?
Hey, hi! Sorry to take so long to get back to you. Between day job and last weekend's winter storm it has been a HELL of a week. Phew.
If you're looking for anything of mine to read, I have a lot online, and some published! Hopefully some of it will appeal.
I have a serialized set of novels available here on Tumblr at @welcometophu -- there is a masterlist of links available for it. Currently there are 7 (long) novels serialized, and over 20 short stories of varying length. Everything on the blog tops out at about an R rating--anything more explicit is on AO3 (and linked from that masterlist of links).
The first of the Twinned trilogy of those serialized novels has been collected, edited, and is published and available from @duckprintspress via their web store. They also have ebook editions of some of the PHU short stories, some new ones written for them, and I am part of two of their anthologies--I write as Tris Lawrence.
I have a bibliography on my professional website with links to other short stories, and that will be updated when the rest of the Twinned trilogy is Kickstarted, and when the first book of my new Seven Lakes series is independently published this spring/summer (waiting on art, watch this blog for more announcements!).
And of course, if you read fanfic on AO3, I am not currently writing fanfic due to time constraints, but I do have 714 existing posted works on my account. Please note: my work is locked to authenticated users only.
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hermit-writes · 3 years
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Hermit Prints — Commit to the Kick
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This project was for the story Commit to the Kick by Tris Lawrence.
It is part of Welcome to PHU, a web serial about the students who attend Pine Hills University, a fictional liberal arts school, and the folks around them. It’s about magic, and love, and football, and music, and taekwondo, and just about anything else that college students might get involved in. And magic. Did we mention the magic? Because in this world, ten years ago, the public found out that magic is real, and ever since then, more and more Talents have become public in the world, and Pine Hills University happens to be one of the schools that welcomes these magical students with open arms.
You can read the stories as they are posted on Tumblr and on Pillowfort.
Commit to the Kick is the first story of the “Twinned” trilogy and can be purchased as an E-book through Duck print Press. The printed version was a Kickstarter reward and is not available for purchase.
This is in the “6×9” format, with white paper and glossy cover options. The story has 168,771 words and the final book had 437 pages.
If you’d be interested in getting your story typeset and ready to print, please visit my commissions page.
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Cover, spine, and back cover - when received from the printer.
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Interior page
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Each chapter had an excerpt from a in-universe text book. 
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froggydarren · 7 years
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Because sometimes motivating is needed, this is right above my desk these days. (If you haven't yet, you should check out @welcometophu)
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acaranna · 6 years
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3, 7, 12, 24, 38 for the fanfic writers ask!
Hey Darling! Thank you for being curious!
3. name three favorite writers 
Okay, this is one of the hardest questions you could have asked me. I’m going to keep this focused on fanfictions though.^^ Otherwise I’ll never find an end. There are so many wonderful writers on this page and on Ao3 that I have a hard time deciding. Hmmm ... let’s see... which three ...
@tryslora - One of my most favourite authors out there. Not only is she amazing in fandom - oh no. She is also great when it comes to original works. She already has two books on tumblr. @welcometophu - in case you peeps are wondering!
@wyntera - Popcorn Redemption ... yes please! The first story I read and I fell in love. It’s so beautifully written. Also, I learn more about movies, too!^^ 
@wellhalesbells - Another one of my all-time favourites. Let me just say ... Sterek ... and oh my god ... I really need to re-read her stories!
(The only reason why I didn’t mention you is that you are the asker. XD But you’re also on that first place. It may get a little crowded on there.)
7. early influences on your writing
Early influences on my writing ... Hmm, that’s a good question actually. Probably Enid Blyton. My mother tried to help me with my spelling problems back in those days. I was ... bad at it. I also didn’t accept her help and got annoyed a lot easier than I should have been. Maybe. Anyway, after I failed yet another test my Mum gave up and left me alone. The thing is - in giving up on me she managed to rouse my interest. I got curious about the book she bought to help me. And ... I started to read. And then I started to imagine ... and one thing led to another and before long I started writing. I was about ten or eleven at the time. Most of my stories focused on animals having adventures and skipping classes. XD
12. favorite place to write
That is easy to answer! My room and my bestie’s place.^^ Most of the time I have something running in the background. A let’s play or a movie. When I’m at my bestie’s place we each occupy a corner of her couch and write in quietness or bounce ideas of each other.
24. favorite scene you’ve ever written
Hey, another easy one to answer! That would be the entry scene on Return - where John enters their flat and something just seems ... wrong. It was a lot of fun to start the story like that. It took me ages to find the right starting point but once I had it I managed to crank out the story in two days.
38. do you reread your own stories?
Rarely but yes, I do re-read my stories every once in a while. Most of the time when I need to reference to something in that story. For sequels or when I play in those verses. Recently that is connected to Return once again. XD 
asks for fanfic writers
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 34
The Meaning of Home Chapter 34
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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It’s been several days, and Pawel has yet to decide what he wants to do about Chelsea’s request to take Emma and Conor into the Dreamscape. They don’t need to answer right away; Chelsea is trying to ensure that she and Del can successfully bring people in and leave with them again. Pawel is thankful to know that every effort is being made to make sure it’ll be safe, but he still doesn’t like to think about his child entering the Dreamscape.
So he doesn’t think about it. There’s no point in discussing it with Leo and Colt yet. He simply throws himself into everything else, enjoying the summer with the kids. Camp is exhausting enough that Conor begs off going to watch the teen class on Thursday, but Pawel finds himself bringing Nevaeh, Liz, and Hannah along with Duke. The girls throw themselves into class, and at the end, Pawel shows them how to tie their brand new white belts, so that next time they can wear uniforms and match the class.
“Ice cream?” Nevaeh asks as she slides her feet into flip-flops. 
“I’ll treat,” Liz offers. “I’m saving so I’ve got spending money for fall semester, but I budgeted some of my summer job money for having fun.”
“I can cover it, and yes, ice cream sounds fine.” Pawel waves at Duke, who is still on the floor with Lucas. When Pawel manages to catch his eye, Duke pats Lucas on the shoulder, then flies over, settling on the ground to pull on his shoes.
“I’m still treating Nevaeh.” A warm flush tints Liz’s cheeks.
Nevaeh slips her arm around Liz’s and she leans in, guiding them both to the door. “It’s a date,” she says cheerfully.
“It’s always like this now,” Hannah mumbles. The words are dry, but she’s smiling as she watches them go, her gaze fond. Hannah doesn’t let them get far before she dashes out the door after them, calling for them to wait up.
They’re cute. It’s that light, easy affection that teenagers have, flush with the energy of new love. He’s seen it hundreds of times on campus, and he enjoys seeing that brightness in Nevaeh’s eyes. He wonders if she’s told Colt and Leo yet.
Duke scuffs his sneakers against the carpet, shooting Pawel a grin when the noise catches his attention. Duke holds his right hand in a fist, moving it in front of his mouth as if it were an ice cream cone. Pawel might not be familiar with the sign, but it seems easy to interpret.
“The girls have gone ahead, but yes, we’ll walk down for ice cream,” he agrees. “It’s probably busy.” Once they’re outside, he can spot the girls far ahead of them, moving at a swift clip. Nevaeh and Liz are holding hands now, and Hannah walks on Liz’s other side, gesturing as she speaks.
Duke touches Pawel’s shoulder. When Pawel looks over, Duke signs something too quickly for him to catch.
“I’m not fluent in ASL,” Pawel replies quietly. “Although it’s obvious you are, even though you haven’t said much about it before. I’m not going to be able to understand what you’re telling me.”
Duke scrubs his hands through the air, which Pawel interprets as his protest not mattering. As he starts to sign, his expression is closed off. Strangely silent compared to the videos Pawel’s been watching to try to learn how to better communicate. When Pawel starts to speak, Duke stops mid-sign and holds a finger up in front of Pawel’s lips.
Fine, he can stay silent and not interrupt.
They move slowly down the sidewalk, Pawel’s attention on the movement of Duke’s hands, trying to pick out words. He catches fly, and punch, and kick. He thinks he catches car several times, and then he just gives up. He can’t follow the narrative, and he’s not sure Duke wants him to. 
“This is the first time you’re talking about it,” Pawel says. Duke’s hands stutter mid-air, and he returns to the story as Pawel watches.
Duke is fourteen years old, and he’s been with Colt and Leo for just over a year. They all know that something traumatic happened, and that both of Duke’s parents are dead. Duke was the only survivor. Investigators had no more information than that, and Duke hasn’t said a word.
Until now.
Pawel wishes he’d thought to take a video, but he suspects that if brought out his camera, Duke would stop. Duke seems to want it this way: him speaking to someone who has no idea what he says. So as they move slowly towards the ice cream shop, Pawel focuses intently on the movements Duke makes, as he can gain some information from the story being told.
When Duke finishes, he stands there, his hands in loose fists, and his eyes closed as he pauses mid-step. He exhales, grinning when he opens his eyes.
“Yeah, I didn’t understand a thing,” Pawel admits. “There was a car. You flew. That’s about it. And you already told me that back when you started here for taekwondo. Still.” He pauses a moment to make sure Duke is listening. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me. Do you think you’ll ever—” He isn’t sure how to ask this in a sensitive way. “I’m not saying this because you have to. I’d just like to know, and it’s okay if the answer is no. Do you think you’ll ever speak again?”
Duke shakes his head slowly, signing a clear, “No.”
“That’s fine. Do you… we could find you a therapist,” Pawel suggests. “If you want someone to talk to who isn’t part of your extremely large extended family. Do you think you might be interested in that?” At Duke’s slow, wry smile and nod, he adds, “So, we should—”
He cuts off at another, “No,” from Duke.
“You want me to talk to Colt and Leo for you?” 
Duke nods, signing, “Please.”
“I can do that,” Pawel agrees and Duke flashes a grin at him before dashing down the sidewalk to catch up to where Liz and Nevaeh have claimed one of the picnic tables. 
Hannah is already in line outside the window, and Pawel joins her. Together they get ice cream for everyone—Hannah knows all their orders, but Pawel refuses to let her pay for any of it. When they carry it back, Duke is doing something on his phone, while Liz and Nevaeh sit with their heads bent close together and fingers tangled on the table between them.
Pawel coughs and they break apart, Liz’s cheeks brightly flushed. “You’re fine,” he says, handing a cone to Duke while Hannah distributes the ones she holds.
“Disgustingly cute,” Hannah mutters again, before taking a bite out of her ice cream.
The girls start chattering as they eat, and Duke is focused on his phone. Pawel takes the time to tap out a quick message to Colt and Leo. I’ve got something to talk to you about when I get home.
Sounds serious, Colt replies. Are you proposing?
If it’s about Liz and Nevaeh, she talked to us the other night, Leo says.
Pawel glances at the girls. That was one thing, yes. They’re currently talking about another sleepover this weekend. I’m not the parent here, so I figured you two really needed to know.
Who says you’re not the parent?
I think at this point you have almost as much say in their lives as we do, and Nevaeh at least listens to you more.
Colt’s and Leo’s replies roll in on top of each other. Pawel isn’t sure how to feel as he looks at the words, takes them in. He exhales in a huff.
“We totally need to get going.” Hannah pushes back from the table, crumpling up her napkin and dabbing chocolate ice cream from her face. “We promised Mom we wouldn’t have the car out too late.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe.” Liz presses a light kiss to Nevaeh’s lips.
Duke signs something quickly, and when Pawel motions, he does it again, slightly slower.
“I think I saw home in there somewhere,” Pawel replies.
Duke points down the street, where Liz and Hannah are heading back to their car, which is parked near Pawel’s.
“Yeah, we should probably get back, too. I want to talk to Dad and Papa about the weekend. Papa said something about maybe Liz and Hannah could stay with us, but like, where the hell would we put them?” Nevaeh spreads her hands and shrugs. “Like. I guess we could sleep in the playroom, but that floor isn’t comfortable unless we put out air mattresses or something, and then someone will just run through too early in the morning. It’s so much better sleeping at Liz and Hannah’s house, even if their parents are kind of weird about things.” She lowers her voice. “We haven’t told them Liz and I are going out because they try really hard to be supportive, but they kind of fail sometimes. We’re not sure they’ll understand.”
Pawel has no idea what Duke is signing—it’s like a damn’s broken loose, and now the expressions as he signs are becoming more fluid—but he suspects it’s sarcastic. “You should definitely talk to Leo and Colt,” Pawel says, and Duke signs an emphatic, “Yes,” in agreement.
They are both quiet in the car, so Pawel turns up the radio, smiling as Nevaeh sings along to a Phoenix Rising song. He barely manages to park in the driveway before she’s out of the car, racing towards the house and calling for Leo and Colt. Duke just shrugs and follows her in, dumping his gear in the entryway before heading back to his room and closing the door.
“I didn’t say no.” Leo sits with Colt in the living room, Nevaeh standing over them both, hands on her hips and looking down. “I said we need to think about it, and we should probably talk to her parents—”
“You can’t, that’s what I’m trying to say! They don’t know she likes girls! They’re still dealing with her being a girl.” Nevaeh throws her hands up. “Do you want to get her in trouble? I swear, like, we aren’t going to do anything. It’s her and me and Hannah, just like it’s always been. I’m going to kiss her, probably.”
“Assuredly,” Pawel says. “They’re adorable.”
“Fine. I’m totally going to kiss her, but I swear we aren’t going to do anything you wouldn’t approve of. Hannah’s right there. We, like, totally have a chaperone.” She ends with a huff, crossing her arms. “Friday night at her house. Saturday we can stay here and do a long movie night with all the kids upstairs. You guys can even go out if you want on Saturday.”
“I think she’s bribing us,” Colt says.
“Is it working?” Pawel asks. “Conor attempts to bribe me sometimes, but it’s usually with something he should be doing anyway, like completing his homework without arguing about it. That never works.”
“We’re going to talk about it, and we’ll let you know tomorrow morning,” Leo says firmly. “I promise. And we won’t be unreasonable, but you have to accept that sometimes we need some time to adjust to the new things in this whole parenting gig. First semi-serious relationship is definitely new.”
“You were young once,” Nevaeh mutters. “Don’t you remember what it was like to want to hang out with your person?”
“Yes,” they all say in unison, and after a startled moment, Nevaeh laughs.
“Fine. I’ll wait until tomorrow morning.” She crosses her arms, lower lip stuck out in a pout that makes her seem younger than she is. “But this is highly unfair and makes it seem like you don’t trust me.”
“We haven’t said no yet,” Leo points out. “And if you want us to get to a point where we’re ready to say yes, you’ll wrangle the kids tonight while we head upstairs to talk.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Colt murmurs after Nevaeh leaves. He comes to his feet as Leo pulls him up, and Pawel slides in closer to both of them, winding his arms around them in a group hug.
“Talk first,” Pawel says. “I’ve got a few things I’ve saved up. We should get through them all.”
“Any of it have to do with Chelsea reappearing, and Conor freezing her out?” Colt asks.
“Upstairs.” Pawel’s pretty sure there is nowhere they can go in the house and be absolutely certain there are no prying ears, but the bedroom is the best they’ll get. “Come on.”
As they pass by the kitchen, there’s a clatter and a rat races out, dragging a bag of donuts, while a larger rodent chases it. Jennie’s voice rises cheerfully from within the pantry, “It’s okay! I saved the cookies!”
“I’ll go shopping again tomorrow,” Pawel says softly, as Leo laughs. He’s only been twice already this week.
As soon as they are upstairs with the door closed, Colt strips off his shirt and sits down on the edge of the bed to yank off his socks. He glances up. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to get ready for bed, too. C’mon, let’s at least get comfortable while we’re being serious.” When Pawel hesitates, Colt’s brow furrows. “Whatever you want to talk to us about, it can’t be worse than discussing whether our teenager daughter can have sleepovers with her girlfriend.”
Oh, Pawel is pretty sure it can. He’ll start with the easy one.
“Duke talked to me today.” He yanks his sweaty t-shirt over his head so he doesn’t have to see the way they look at him until it’s off. “Not—not speaking out loud. But he’s fluent in ASL, and I get the feeling he’s known it since before he came to you, or else he’s been learning really fast.” Which makes things tick over in Pawel’s head and he muses, “I’m not sure if he’s mute because of the accident, or if it’s something else. I’m beginning to get the feeling that it’s not trauma related.”
“Pawel.” Leo rests his hands on Pawel’s shoulders, nudging him closer to the bed. Colt reaches out and pulls him down so he sits between them both on the edge. “What did Duke say?”
“I don’t know,” Pawel admits. “He’s fluent in ASL, but I’m not. Are either of you?”
They both shake their heads. “Not any more than I’ve picked up since we learned he knew something,” Colt admits. “I’m good at ‘come to dinner’ and ‘stop yelling at your siblings’ and ‘I love you’ but that’s about it.”
“Unsurprisingly, I’ve picked up taekwondo terms,” Pawel says. “There was something about a car, and flying, which is what he’d said before. Punching. Kicking. The trauma is definitely related to a car accident, and he definitely fought his way out. Or. That’s what I’m getting out of it. The thing is, he offered this. He didn’t want me to interrupt, and I’m pretty sure he’s fine that I didn’t understand more than a few words of what he said. So I asked after if he’d be interested in seeing a therapist.” He looks between them. “He said yes.”
“I’ve got resources,” Colt says quickly. “We have plenty of resources, specifically for Talented kids in trouble, but we can find a therapist fluent in ASL.”
“There are some people at the station who might have references, too,” Leo suggests. He slides an arm behind Pawel’s back, pulling him close and kissing his forehead. “You’ve gotten further than we have. Thank you for that.”
“Eh, it’s all taekwondo.” Pawel’s certain that without that shared interest to bridge the distance between them, Duke would have remained as silent as he had been all along. “Besides. That’s the good news. The rest is… well, there’s good. But it’s not all good.”
Colt stops moving where his hand was sliding over Pawel’s thigh. “I was just getting ready to celebrate, too.” He leans his head on his shoulder, knocking into him gently. “Hit us. What now?”
“Chelsea,” Leo says.
“Chelsea,” Pawel confirms. “She thinks she’s found Emma’s parents living in the Dreamscape. I know you have questions, just… give me a minute here to explain. There are people who live there. Mostly people who got sucked in because of an Emergent Dreamwalker, but some of them are born there. People from… all over, which is a much weirder thing than you even know. She didn’t see Emma’s parents directly, but she heard of a couple—recently arrived, for whatever that’s worth in a place where time is built out of Dreams—that fit the right description. They’re Weather Witches, but he’s a Dreamwalker, too. She doesn’t know if they don’t remember home, or don’t know how to get there. They might have forgotten everything, even Emma.”
“What do we do?”
Direct and to the point. Leo’s a problem-solver, and Pawel appreciates that. “Chelsea says she wants to bring Conor and Emma into the Dreamscape to go get them back. She thinks I should come along with them as a guardian, and there’s—there’s something she’s not telling me about why she wants Conor and me there. She says it’s because Conor would keep Emma grounded, and Conor also has something to return for with Alan. But that’s not everything.”
“I think we should go with them,” Colt says. His words press into the skin of Pawel’s shoulder, his fingers tight on his thigh. “I don’t know what’s involved, but Emma will be safer if we’re all there. And we can carry them out bodily if we have to.”
“We’re not taking the kids into the Dreamscape,” Leo says.
“I meant us. The adults.”
“No.” The word comes out in a rush as Pawel shakes his head. He pushes off from the bed, standing so he can pace away. He shoves his fingers into his hair, pushing it back from his face as he turns to look at them. “The Dreamscape is dangerous. We can’t all go and leave the rest of the kids here alone. Chelsea was gone for weeks. This could take five minutes, or it could take months.” He leaves out the part where it might not work at all. “I’m not even sure I’m on board with the idea of Conor and Emma going in. But she thinks that if they have forgotten who they are, seeing Emma might spark that memory.”
“We’ll have better strength in numbers,” Colt protests. “You say it can fuck with your head. Fine. The more of us there are, the more likely one of us will be fine, right? I’m pragmatic. I’ll haul you back.”
“Pawel’s right. We can’t risk that.” Leo pats the bed, and Pawel takes slow steps towards them. As he crawls onto the bed, they both bear him backwards until they lie together, legs tangled.
“You will,” Pawel realizes, speaking the thoughts aloud as he works through them. “Haul me back. If Alan is an anchor for Conor, you two would be mine. I don’t want to leave you behind.”
“I’ll find something for you to take with you to remind you,” Colt mumbles, burying his face against Pawel’s chest. “We just got you back. We are not losing you again.”
“I think we need to talk to Emma,” Leo says. His fingers card through Pawel’s hair, soft and soothing. “I’m sure I know what she’s going to say, but I think she also needs to know. She’s just a kid, but—I don’t want to keep this from her.”
“She and Conor are glued to each other,” Colt points out.
“That was Chelsea’s reasoning.” Pawel’s phone is in his pocket, but he can’t reach it, tangled up as he is. “You get the kids to come up here. I need to let my dad know I’m not coming home.”
“I’ll get them. You two get dressed again.” Leo heads out through the playroom, and the rumble of his voice comes from somewhere just beyond the door. Pawel hears thundering steps on the inner stairs.
Colt pulls a shirt on, his expression still sour. “I want more information,” he says quietly. “I want to know from Chelsea exactly what’s involved, and I want to meet that other girl you mentioned.”
“I’ll get them all to come here.” Pawel dashes off a quick text to his dad, then finds a clean shirt for the evening. His phone buzzes quickly.
Perfect timing. Don’t worry about it. I’m all fine here and enjoying my peace and quiet.
At least Dad’s doing well.
The door clicks open, Conor and Emma coming in with Leo behind them. The children hold hands tightly, their expressions drawn and serious. “Leo said it’s about my parents,” Emma whispers.
“It’s about your parents,” Pawel confirms.
Leo herds the kids onto the bed. Emma wraps her arms around a pillow, hugging it close to her chest. Conor leans his shoulder into her, nudging her until she leans against him. She worries at her lower lip and stares silently at Pawel.
“This is because of Chelsea,” Conor says. “Right?”
“It’s not—she didn’t do anything other than try to find them,” Pawel says. “She’s not to blame. But the way she was gone for weeks—that part might be important.”
“Chelsea thinks she’s found your parents living in the Dreamscape,” Leo explains, his voice low and even. “She thinks you should go with her into the Dreamscape to help bring them back, because she also thinks that they may not remember you.”
“Or themselves.”
Leo glances at Pawel. “Chelsea specifically asked for you, Conor, and Pawel to go with her, is that right?”
Pawel nods.
“I think you should choose the adult, or adults, you’d most want to have with you,” Colt adds. “We’ll figure it out, and no one is sending you into a dangerous situation alone.”
“The Dreamscape is dangerous?” Emma’s voice is small. She picks at a thread on the pillowcase.
“The Dreamscape is why she wasn’t my mother,” Conor says. There’s a sharp bite to his words, but he ends on a sigh, resigned. “It’s why Dad disappeared. It’s why your parents disappeared. So yeah. It’s dangerous.”
“I have to wonder if those are coincidences or evidence,” Colt murmurs.
“And you think that maybe, if I go with her to get them, we can bring them home?” A soft hiccup, and tears well at the corners of her eyes. “I want to go get them. I want my parents. I like… I like being here. I like you. But I want my Mom and Dad.”
Leo holds his arms open, and Emma dives in close, burrowing her face against his chest as he holds her. Pawel looks over at Conor, patting the bed, then lifting an arm to invite his son to do the same. “Are we going to get stuck in the Dreamscape?” Conor whispers.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Pawel replies. “Remember. Chelsea and I both disappeared, but we also both came back. And we’ll have Del with us. We’ll be able to do this and rescue Emma’s parents and return quickly.”
He’s lying. He has no idea how long it will take. But he does know that nothing is going to keep him in the Dreamscape. He will keep Del on course, and he will make it back to the real world. He’s not sure how, yet, but he will.
“There are a lot of arrangements to be made,” Leo says quietly, rubbing a hand over Emma’s back. “Pawel knows more than we do, and Colt and I don’t want to agree to anything without a full understanding. We haven’t met Del. We want to know how this will work, and how Del and Chelsea plan to guarantee bringing you out safely when it’s done.”
“But they’re safe for now?” Emma asks.
“They’re safe for now.” Pawel is at least certain of that. “There are people who live in the Dreamscape, and your parents are safe with them.”
Emma sniffles and rubs a hand across her face. “Okay. Tell me when we’re going to go. We should go before school starts again. Or before we move. And I don’t want to miss the field trip to the caverns next week.” There’s a wobble in her voice, like she’s trying to keep some control over the situation.
“I don’t think it’ll be that fast,” Leo assures her. “We’re not going to just arrange this without you knowing what’s going on. It’s scary, but I think it’ll be better if you know.”
“Okay.” Emma wiggles out of his embrace, and slides off the bed, grabbing Conor’s hand to pull him with her. “We’re going to go watch a movie now.”
“We could call Alan and talk to him,” Conor points out.
Emma nods solemnly. “Okay, let’s do that.”
Colt gets up to follow them to the door, closing it carefully behind them. “The whole house will know in five minutes,” he predicts.
“I’m taking my kid to the Dreamscape.” It’s a real thing, now that he’s talked to Leo and Colt. Now that they’ve brought the kids into the decision-making process. “I’m taking your kid to the Dreamscape.”
“Our kids,” Leo says, pulling Pawel down to lie next to him on the bed. 
Pawel could point out that the whole issue is that Emma isn’t theirs. She has to be returned, and he wants to do that. He wants to give her back her parents, and erase that bit of tragedy from her life.
When Colt slides in close on his other side, Pawel is wedged between them. Colt presses kisses to the nape of his neck. “Just promise. Whatever it takes, you will come back to us. All of you.”
“I promise.” Pawel isn’t going to give this up. Now they just need a good plan.
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 27
The Meaning of Home Chapter 27
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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The day ends with a fire in the fire pit, and nine children gathered with sticks and copious amounts of marshmallows, graham crackers, and different kinds of chocolate. Pawel isn’t sure that having that much readily available sugar is wise, but Jennie seems content as long as she has her own designated pile of sweets covering the entire seat of one camp chair. She’s meticulous with roasting her marshmallows; Pawel lost count after she ate her sixth s’more.
Chelsea helps Alanna get her marshmallow off the stick so that Alanna can shove it in her mouth whole and forgo the rest of the fixings. “I’ve got this,” Chelsea says, reaching for a fresh marshmallow. “You guys can go… be dads, and enjoy the last bit of Father’s Day in peace.”
“Conor,” Pawel says quietly. His son looks over, an expression of complete innocence despite the flame in his palm that Emma holds her marshmallow over. When Pawel coughs, Conor sighs dramatically and shakes the flame out.
“Fine. We’ll use the fire. It’s crowded,” Conor complains.
He’s not wrong. All the children have staked spaces out, with Mac wedged in between Nevaeh and Duke. Leo and Colt already made their s’mores and escaped. Pawel hasn’t even tried to get close yet.
“If I’m going to act like a dad, I should probably stay right here,” Pawel mutters. “I don’t think we should leave you alone with all this chaos.”
“I’m here,” Mac points out, speaking with her mouth full. “Hey, Duke, fire.” She nudges him, and Duke pulls the stick close to blow out the flames surrounding his marshmallow. He grins and peels the char away before eating the sticky, gooey insides.
“They’ll be fine.” Leo is suddenly there, his body warm against Pawel’s side, and his hand hot on Pawel’s back. He holds out a s’more, oozing marshmallow and smelling of warm peanut butter. “Dark chocolate peanut butter cup,” he says. When Pawel goes to take it, Leo holds it out for him to bite.
Pawel meets his gaze, and Leo arches both eyebrows in challenge. Fine. Pawel opens his mouth, inhaling the bittersweet of the chocolate just before the sticky sugar hits his tongue. The graham cracker crumbles, and Pawel is fairly certain that the birds will get more of it than he does. Leo waits for Pawel to chew and swallow before offering the remainder. Cheeks warm, Pawel manages to gather it in his fingers this time and shoves it all in his mouth at once. He licks the chocolate and sugar from his skin, looking up when he hears a strangled sound from Colt.
“They’ll be fine.” Colt echoes Leo’s words and grabs Pawel by the shoulders, turning him to face the house. “You have stuff all over your face and hands. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’m not three. I can clean myself,” Pawel protests.
“Take all the time you need!” Mac calls cheerfully after them. “We’re good here!”
Matt makes a loud, wounded noise. “Jennie! You don’t need more marshmallows!”
“These are chocolate,” Jennie says calmly. “Mine are vanilla. They’ll taste really good together. You can have some too.” Her voice lowers, and Pawel just barely hears her loud whisper, “I’m going to sparkle like the stars tonight.”
“Don’t you worry about her?” Pawel asks as Colt opens the door, and Leo nudges him inside, into the kitchen.
“Not much anymore, no, although if she goes supernova we might have a problem,” Colt says. He runs the water at the sink, soaking a paper towel. “Supernova,” he repeats when neither Pawel nor Leo have a response. “Because she’s going to be a star.”
“We got it,” Leo says dryly. He takes the paper towel from Colt and gently slides it over Pawel’s lips. Colt wets another one and takes Pawel’s hands and somehow they’re taking care of him like he can’t be trusted to take care of himself.
“I can do that,” he mumbles, but they won’t let him take the towels. Their touch glides over his skin, careful and gentle, and leaving a shimmer inside of him that sparks from his fingertips. Colt lets go of him as sparks fly, then sets aside the wet towel so he can take Pawel’s fingers again. The bright flickers leap from Pawel to Colt, and Colt rubs his thumb against his fingertips as if to encourage more.
Leo drops his towel on the counter, his other hand sliding behind the nape of Pawel’s neck. “You were worried after Colt kissed you,” he says softly. “Why don’t we make things even?”
It takes Pawel a moment to catch up; the feel of Colt’s touch interacting with his magic is a distraction. It’s been so long since he felt like this, like his power was bubbling just under his skin, waiting to escape. “You want to kiss me,” he says dumbly, a statement that makes Leo laugh.
“Very much,” Leo agrees. “But unlike some people,” his gaze slides to Colt, who manages to look innocent, “I’m going to ask first.”
Colt raises Pawel’s hand, touching his lips to his fingertips. “Leo got to spend the weekend with you before I did. I wanted the first kiss.” Sparks dance from Pawel to Colt, lighting up the crinkles around his eyes when he smirks.
“This time,” Pawel says. His heart is racing, and he’s sure Leo can hear it by the way his gaze drops and his head cocks like he’s listening. “I dated Leo before you.”
“Semantics,” Colt dismisses it. “This is a fresh start. Third time’s the charm. And we both want to kiss you.”
“When you’re ready,” Leo adds.
When he’s ready. If Pawel stops to think about it, he might never be ready. He feels like he’s stepped off a cliff and is falling headlong into something uncontrollable. Something that will consume him like a fire, or explode like fireworks. Something that he doesn’t know which way it’ll go, or where life will take him next. There is so much going on, and this is his life at rest. His life with his child, these other children, these two men, his ex-girlfriend, his best friend, his father…. His mind is spinning while Leo and Colt hold him anchored here: Leo’s hand on his neck, Colt holding his hand.
Pawel nods, and licks his lips. “You can’t keep your hands of off me as it is,” he says, trying for light but his voice is too hoarse. “So. Yes.”
Leo swallows the last hiss of the word, stealing it from Pawel’s lips. There’s a hint of bitter and sweet, dark chocolate on his breath. Pawel breaks away long enough to inhale, and Leo chases him, covering his mouth and deepening the kiss, licking at the seam of his lips until Pawel opens to grant him access. Leo’s hand slides from the nape of his neck down to Pawel’s back, tugging him closer as Pawel slides his arms over Leo’s shoulders. He tastes like familiarity and home, but there’s also something new there. An edge of hunger that Pawel doesn’t remember from hours and hours of making out long ago.
The touch to his shoulder draws him back; Leo’s palm against his face nudges him to turn to look at Colt, who is there, waiting. Colt’s hands rest on both their shoulders, and his eyes are wide. Hopeful. “Please,” Colt whispers. All his overconfidence is gone. Pawel remembers this look, the way Colt would let the façade drop when they were alone. How Colt trusted him enough to show his vulnerabilities.
“Please,” Leo echoes, and it’s like a bolt of lightning to realize that they aren’t just asking for themselves. Leo wants this for Colt.
“Yes,” Pawel says, leaning down to meet Colt and brush the word across his lips. There’s a soft sound of surprise as Pawel initiates the contact, then Colt’s hands come up, framing his face as he leans into the kiss. Leo huffs a soft laugh, his arms around them both, gathering them close.
It’s weird. It’s comfortable. Colt’s smiling as Pawel kisses him, smirking by the time Pawel finally pulls back. “You owe Leo another,” Colt points out. “So we stay even.”
“If we keep going, this is going to turn into a full-out makeout session,” Pawel says dryly, “and at some point I do need to leave with my kid.”
He thinks Colt might be about to object, but Leo silences him with a kiss. Kissing really is remarkably effective for that. Pawel could say it’s the one time Colt is silent, his arguments swallowed down, but he forgot that Colt is never silent. There are soft sounds—low whines and whimpers and tiny hisses of encouragement—and all of those coil low in Pawel’s gut. When Pawel gives in to instinct and reaches out, Colt meets him, grabbing on to his shoulders to raise up to match Pawel’s height, his kiss hard and hungry. Leo growls low in his throat, burying his face against Pawel’s shoulder. His teeth scrape, and Pawel shudders as he feels Leo’s sharp nip.
“Don’t leave a mark,” Pawel stutters. Colt breaks their kiss with a surprised snicker, and Leo lowers his head to Pawel’s shoulder, his lips rubbing against the soft crook of his neck.
“Sorry,” Leo murmurs the words into his skin, licking at him with his tongue.
Pawel exhales, trying to regain some control over himself. He nudges at both of them, and they step back, giving him space so he can rearrange his t-shirt. He touches his shoulder, and Leo’s fingers tangle with his. 
“It’s under your shirt,” Leo assures him. He presses down with his thumb, grinning as he rubs lightly. Warmth floods Pawel at the touch. That must be where the mark is, and now that Leo has pointed it out, Pawel is all too aware of its presence.
Pawel hopes no one notices it. It’s not a conversation he’s ready to have yet with his father. Or Conor. Or Chelsea.
“You could stay here tonight,” Colt suggests. His voice is low and too careful, the kind of light that tries to sound like it means nothing, when it’s obvious that this suggestion means everything to him. “Conor has clothes here, and it’s no trouble to get him on the bus with Emma. I know Chelsea can get home—wherever that is—on her own.”
“Mac,” Pawel says, offering her name like the excuse it is. He could stay, sure. He could go upstairs and sleep in that big bed with Leo and Colt—just sleep; he’s not ready for anything more. They could play house, and it’d be too much, too fast, and he doesn’t even know where this is going. He still feels like an interloper, knowing that he has to go back to his life in Unity, and his job at PHU. “Her car is at my place. I need to give her a ride home.”
She could probably teleport there, even if it took a few hops. Pawel knows this. Colt and Leo probably know this, after hearing exactly who she is. 
“Another time,” Leo says, one hand up as if to still any objection from Colt. “Just remember, that bed is big enough for three. We’d love to have you here.”
“Are you thinking of installing a bath at the new house?” Pawel is suddenly reminded of the spacious baths in Alaric’s home, and the Clan habits of soaking together. “Did you have that tradition in your family?”
“We didn’t, but I’ve heard of Clan who do. It sounds like a nice way to relax, but it isn’t critical. I want to ensure that we have enough space for everyone who is going to live with us,” Leo says.
“Everyone,” Colt repeats firmly. 
“Dad?” The back door squeaks open as Conor yells out. “Am I staying here tonight? Is Emma coming home with us? Can we set off fireworks?”
It’s a jarring set of questions, and Pawel blinks to get his brain on track before answering. “No, we’ll be going home. Yes, if she wants to, and Colt and Leo agree. No, definitely not. Did someone bring fireworks?”
Conor steps into the kitchen, Mac behind him waving her hands in a way that Pawel thinks is meant to mean it wasn’t her. “Oh,” Conor says, his gaze shifting to the door. “Matt was talking about it, and Jaiden starting wondering what it’d be like, and Chelsea said she could go get some.”
“No,” Pawel says as sharply as he can manage, a quick shot of magic boosting his voice louder than both Colt and Leo as they echo him.
“I already told her that,” Mac assures him. She puts her hands on Conor’s shoulders and switches places with him, nudging him back out the door. “Magical sparks are fine. Jennie’s sparkling is fine. Actual fireworks are not. If Chelsea can summon her own magic, that’s fine, too. Let’s keep this within reason.”
“Thirty minutes,” Pawel calls out, hoping Conor hears him. “We’re going to head home in thirty minutes.”
Colt and Leo look at each other, and Pawel wishes he could read minds. Whatever silent conversation they have is likely enhanced by Colt’s ability to read auras and Leo’s nose taking in subtle changes in scent. “I’ll get Emma’s things together, in case she needs more clothes at your place,” Colt offers. “Leo will keep an eye on whatever the kids are getting up to.”
“And Chelsea,” Pawel reminds them. “Her impulse control is more nineteen than twenty-nine. And… thank you.” The words are soft and meant for more than just keeping an eye on things and packing things: thanks for being patient, and for letting go when he needs them to.
He waits until they’re all gone—Colt further into the house, and Leo and Conor back outside. Mac leans on the door to the hallway, her head tilting as the doors down the hall all close. “So,” she says.
Pawel is positive his skin is still flushed. When he presses the heels of his hands to his cheeks he feels warm, and even knowing the place where Leo bit him—where Leo bit him—can’t be seen, he can feel it. “So,” he replies, knowing from her giggle that he fails at nonchalance. 
“You okay?”
He’s not sure exactly which part Mac’s asking about. Could be a few things, but underneath it all, he supposes the answer is simple. “I’m okay,” he tells her. “Confused. Uncertain. Not sure how any of this works—”
“You know exactly how polyamory and triads work,” Mac interrupts him. “It’s not hard, Pawel.”
She’s not wrong, but at the same time… she’s not right. Pawel lowers his head, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes now as he exhales. “It’s complicated, Mac. We all have lives outside of each other. Colt and Leo have a home here, and jobs, and their kids are settled into school. I have my work at PHU, and Conor has his school and Alan.”
“So?” Mac pushes off the wall and moves closer to stand in front of him. She wraps her fingers around his wrists and gently moves his hands so when he looks down she’s right there. “No one is asking you to rearrange your entire future right this second. Are they? Was there a proposal when I wasn’t looking? You have to talk about things, and I don’t mean to me. To them. If you’re worried about something, talk about it. Figure it out. You’re so good at that when it’s for someone else, and such a dummy when it’s about you.”
“Pull your punches, why don’t you?” he mutters.
“Commit to the kick,” she counters. “Pawel, subtlety is lost on you. If I try to insinuate something, you’ll take it however works best inside your own head and completely ignore the most important truth: you don’t have to be alone.”
“Neither do you.” 
Pawel regrets the words as soon as Mac steps backwards, releasing him. She hooks her fingers in her belt loops, turning away. “You’re right,” she says softly. “But I’m not exactly ready to move on yet. You, on the other hand.” She looks back at him. “You’ve been overthinking this since you first ran into them. If you can’t get them out of your head, then maybe you are ready to move on. Or at least make a move. Take baby steps, but commit to them. Stop waffling, because you’ll never get where you want to go that way.”
He settles his hands on the edge of the counter, slumping as his head tilts back. There’s movement out of the corner of his eye, and a hint of fruity scent; something falls in the pantry, and the scent is gone. “Jennie must’ve run out of marshmallows,” he murmurs.
“Do you want to be involved in their lives?” Mac asks. “Jennie and her sparkling. Nevaeh, Duke, Emma, all of them? Do you still feel something for Leo and Colt?”
“I wouldn’t have stood here kissing them if I didn’t.” Pawel tries not to look at her; he knows she’s grinning and doesn’t need to see it. 
“Then take it one day at a time, and talk to them when you’re worried about it.” Mac comes in close again, wrapping her arms around him and holding on hard until there’s nothing left for him to do but hold on to her as well. “You’ll figure it out, but you have to take a chance on it. It’s obvious they want you to, and I think that if you didn’t want to, you’d be long gone back to Unity by now.”
She’s right. Pawel can see that objectively. It’s hard to look at—hard to think about it directly—but if he really didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be. He’s good at extracting himself from difficult places. He lets out a low groan, bumping his forehead against the top of her head. “Apparently I like complications.”
“To those of us who know you well, that is not at all a surprise.” Mac laughs at his expression, and fine, he’ll take the teasing. And the advice. Baby steps, one at a time. He can do that. It’s the talking that’ll be the hard part.
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 23
The Meaning of Home Chapter 23
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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On Sunday morning, Pawel wakes up on the couch in his father’s place again. After a night in a bed, the couch has left him feeling crumpled and folded in uncomfortable ways. He stretches and tries to convince his back to crack, eventually rewarded by loud pops.
“You’d better hit the shower if we’re heading over to Leo’s.”
Pawel jumps, almost hitting the cup of coffee Dad’s holding out. “How long have you been up?” The coffee is hot, but not so hot he can’t drink it, and he takes a long gulp before setting it down on the coffee table.
“Was just about to wake you, then you woke yourself,” Dad says. He settles on the other end of the couch, his own mug in his hands. “You said something last night about needing to pick up Conor and Emma in the morning, and something else about Leo and Colt going to see a house. Your phone’s been buzzing.” He points at where it lies face up on the table, charging. “You didn’t mention you were going with them.”
He swears he left his phone face down. The light annoys him at night when it shines brightly after a notification. “I hadn’t decided yet.” Leo walked him out to the car last night, where Pawel was all too aware of his son peeking out of the window from the playroom. When Leo asked, Pawel said he’d think about it. He’s still thinking about it.
“Get yourself cleaned up,” Dad orders. “I’ll make you a breakfast sandwich, then we can head over. I’ll take Conor and Emma out for a round of mini golf today. We’ll take my car. Not like you’ll need one. I’m sure they’ll drop you off when they’re done with you.”
“Dad….” Pawel trails off before he figures out how to ask what he was going to ask. “No. Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m going to take that shower, and I’ll eat whatever you give me, because I’m getting the feeling that I’m going to be handed over like a six-year-old on a playdate.”
“I like that image. It’ll do.” Dad raises his mug of coffee, pointing at the bathroom door. “Go. I can warm up your coffee if you need me to.”
“Just throw it in a travel mug for me.” Pawel spreads his hands. “Biggest one you’ve got.”
He doesn’t take long in getting ready for the day. It feels good to be back in his own clean clothes, and to brush his teeth. If he’s going to end up crashing at Leo and Colt’s place, he might want to think about leaving a few things there, just for comfort’s sake. Not now. Right now he’s just going to go… look at a house. This is only a little awkward.
Pawel checks his phone on the way over. It looks like his father replied for him while he was sleeping, confirming that he’d join Leo and Colt. Pawel thinks briefly about having a talk with his dad about respecting boundaries, but he remembers the way he got into places he shouldn’t have as a kid. He has no room to talk.
When they reach the house, the changeover happens too quickly for Pawel to resist. Dad is handed the keys to the minivan, along with three extra children when Jaiden, Emory, and Matthew all insist on going with Conor and Emma. Pawel finds himself in the back of the SUV, sandwiched between two car seats as Jennie and Alanna talk around him.
Colt looks back from the passenger seat. “Comfortable?”
It feels like Pawel only woke up a few minutes ago, and here he is on the road out of Verity. “Not really.” His knees are bent at a sharp angle, and Jennie keeps elbowing him as she gestures. He’s not following their conversation; when he leans forward to better hear Colt, Alanna’s hand on his back encourages him to stay there so they can talk behind him.
Colt slides his fingers over Pawel’s knee. “It’s not all that long a ride. We’re going into Blue Meadow. Like we said the other night, they don’t even have a real school district. It’s got a town government, but it’s mostly made up of a mix of farms and undeveloped land.”
“And you picked one of the undeveloped plots?”
Leo shakes his head, his gaze meeting Pawel’s in the rearview mirror briefly before his attention returns to the road. “There’s a house, and they’ve done some logging according to the records we reviewed, so there are dirt roads and trails through the acreage. It’s pretty much dead center between your world and ours, so you could visit easily.”
“You aren’t buying a house just because it’s closer to Unity.” Pawel knows that isn’t the reason.
“Of course not.” Colt settles his hand on Pawel’s knee, squeezing. “We’re buying a house because we now have nine kids—”
“Eight,” Leo corrects him.
“Right, Conor’s yours. We have eight kids, and there’s a chance Lucy could send us more. That’s why we’re buying a house.” Colt finally withdraws his hand, turning to face front. Pawel can still feel the heat of his palm lingering. “This one has a master suite on the main floor, and three bedrooms on the upper floor. There’s also an in-law apartment over the garage.” Colt and Leo exchange a look; Pawel has no idea what that silent conversation is.
“Eight kids, four bedrooms between them. They’ll still be doubling—or tripling—up,” Pawel points out. “Will it be big enough?”
“There’s some extra space that could be converted, and an entire unfinished basement.” Colt flips through something on his phone. “Looking at it, we might also be able to build off the back, next to the garage. Leo, when you get there, Janice says to drive around the house to the right and park at the garage. We’ll go in through there.”
Pawel tries to sit back, but hands push at him, keeping him leaning forward. “The minivan would’ve been a more comfortable choice,” he mutters.
“Cap needed it.” Leo drums on the steering wheel along with low-playing music. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon.”
They head down a winding road, past a buffalo farm, and another advertising apple picking in the fall, with trees visible in the distance. As the fields give way to trees, Leo slows down, searching for a turn off on the left. At first Pawel thinks it’s a road, then he realizes that it’s far too narrow. It’s a paved drive just a little more than a single car width; if they meet someone coming the other way one of them will have to go off the road to let the other by.
The long drive reminds Pawel again of Haverhill, or Havenhill. It’s paved instead of dirt, and no shapeshifted Clan run alongside, but it still has that same sense of remoteness. It feels as if they are entering another world.
The trees give way to a clearing large enough for both the house and a yard to the left, big enough for outdoor games and a small aboveground pool. It looks as if there is a fenced-in area for a vegetable garden, although it’s too early for there to be much growth. There is a small parking area in front of the house, but the road continues past it along the right, and when they reach the garage, Pawel realizes that the road keeps going. There’s another, smaller, house in the near distance.
Janice waits by the garage—two of the three doors raised to reveal spacious bays on the inside. She approaches as they climb out of the car, holding out a folder that Leo accepts. “We’ll just go in through the garage—oh.” She stops mid-sentence as Alanna and Jennie disappear. “I know you warned me, but it’s a surprise to see it.”
“There’s no one here that they can bother, right?” Leo confirms. “They’ve been warned not to get into anything they shouldn’t.”
Pawel hopes the pantry is empty, but he doesn’t say that aloud.
Even though Janice was surprised by Alanna’s Talent, she speaks like she’s familiar with Leo. They walk ahead, through the garage and into the mudroom with a small laundry room off to one side. Colt sets a hand at the small of Pawel’s back, walking with him as they follow into the kitchen just beyond.
It’s a hell of a house. Pawel can see that just from the kitchen, which puts his own to shame. They might be able to fit the entire family around the island, without even having to move out of the kitchen for a meal.
“Those stairs lead up to a spacious apartment above the garage, with a bedroom, bath, kitchenette, and a small sitting room,” Janice says. “The master suite is on the first floor, along with a study and a library, both of which could also be used as bedrooms, depending on how someone feels about built-in bookcases. The master suite has a large walk-in closet, and of course, a full bathroom. There’s a half bath near the living room, and a family room as well. The dining room is furnished, and that table will stay. It seats twenty easily, and the built-in cabinets at either end are more than enough to house dishes and glassware.”
Pawel is struggling to grasp the full expanse of this space. “So there might be as many as seven bedrooms—six for the kids,” he says slowly. “If someone wants to live in a library, and you don’t need it to stay a library.”
Colt leans in close. “I was thinking that either the study or library should remain as is. All of us have times when we bring home our work. And I’m betting that you have books.”
There’s a low bookcase with two shelves stuffed full, and stacks of books on top, in his bedroom back in Unity. “I’ve donated most of what I’ve collected to the library at PHU, but yes, I have books. They’re in Unity.”
The noise Colt makes sounds almost like he’s humoring Pawel.
“What about the house at the back?” Leo asks. He has the folder open and is flipping through papers.
“It is a part of the property, and is included in the purchase price,” Janice says. “According to the current owner, it’s… waiting. I don’t know exactly what she means. She grew up here, but her family has grown and scattered, and her parents and grandparents passed away, so the home is up for sale. The cottage has three bedrooms and an office, and the one-car garage has been converted into a small home gym.”
Leo closes the folder and lays it on the kitchen island. “I think we’d like to just wander around, if you don’t mind. Is the cottage open?”
“Everything’s open,” Janice assures them. She pulls a tablet out of her bag and points down the hall at the living room. “I’ll just read for a bit. Let me know if you need anything.”
“We’ll have to see the office in the cottage.” Leo leads the way through the living room to a door which leads to the master suite. The bedroom isn’t quite as large as the one Leo and Colt now share, but it’s still big enough that the king-sized bed isn’t too big for the room. “This room is bright; I like it. Anyway, what I was saying—Pawel, get in here.” Leo grips his wrist, drawing him into the room where Colt is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking around. When Pawel flexes his fingers, Leo shifts his grip, taking his hand instead.
“What I was saying,” Leo repeats, “is that if the office is suitable in the cottage, we could set that up, and use both the study and library here for bedrooms. Six bedrooms and eight—or nine depending on the day—kids should work out. According to that folder, the original owner had plans to add on to the back of the house.” He points to one wall, where the window looks out over a patio. “A small addition between the garage and the house, as well as building an upper deck off the second floor of the addition. The plans date back to about five years ago, but they never started.”
His thumb slides along the side of Pawel’s hand. “What do you think?”
Pawel blinks, turning slowly in the one room. “It’s overwhelming,” he admits. “And Colt is way too comfortable on someone else’s bed. But it feels… good.”
“Feels good,” Colt echoes, his brow furrowing as he draws out the words.
“Yes.” Pawel nods, and he looks to Leo, hoping he’ll have some sense of what he’s trying to say. “It’s warm here. Comforting. There are some houses that feel sterile, and some feel like they’re full of possibilities. I’ve been in one house that felt dark, as if the shadows were still wrapped around it. But this place feels like… it could be home.” He can’t find a way to explain it better than that.
There’s a piece of him that still struggles to assimilate exactly how big this place is. But despite the size, despite the unfamiliarity, it feels like a place where he could kick off his shoes and cook dinner with the kids, and sit on the couch to work on a project.
It’s not difficult at all to imagine Colt and Leo’s clan living in this space. It’s scarily easy to imagine being here with them.
“Let’s look around the rest of it then,” Leo suggests. “Colt, get off their bed.”
“It’s just staging. I wouldn’t have climbed up if someone were actually living here. I’m not that much of an asshole,” Colt grumbles. “What do you think of me, anyway?”
Pawel glances at Leo, who smirks briefly before looking away.
“Don’t answer that,” Colt says.
Pawel is aware of footsteps overhead, probably Alanna and Jennie running through the rooms in the upper floor. He explores the master suite with Colt and Leo. The bathroom is spacious, divided into an area with a huge inset tub, a large shower stall, and two separate sinks, and a separate enclosed space with the toilet. On the other side of the bathroom is a walk-in closet that’s more than big enough to share. As Pawel looks into cabinets and peers into the shower stall, Leo passes behind him, trailing fingers across Pawel’s shoulder. Colt leans next to him, pressing against him.
“Bet we could fit three in there,” Colt says. “Multiple shower heads. Kind of like showering after gym back in high school, only you get to choose your company.”
“Colt.”
“Leo.” Colt steps away. “Come on.” He pats Pawel’s hip, waiting for him to follow along.
The study and library are both at the front of the house, to either side of the foyer. They clearly weren’t intended as bedrooms, but Pawel could certainly see converting them. There’s room for a bed—or a set of bunk beds if needed—as well as plenty of storage. The office has a sink installed, and he leans on it, trying to figure out if it’s meant as a mini-bar.
Leo stands behind him, reaching past to open the cabinets over it. “I’d say it could make a good nursery, if it weren’t so far from our room. On the other hand, I’ll hear if they’re crying, so it still has potential.”
Colt is there as well, making the corner almost too warm as they surround Pawel. “Are you planning on more babies?” Pawel asks.
“We’ll take whoever we need to take,” Colt says easily. “We won’t say no to more babies.”
“Building a Clan, or a community, doesn’t mean having to do it all yourself.”
Leo leans in, pressing his cheek to Pawel’s. “Doesn’t mean we can’t, either.”
There’s a fresh rush of fruity scent as Alanna and Jennie arrive. “We’ve picked our rooms,” Jennie announces. “Alanna and I are going to share. Emory gets their own. Jaiden and Matt are going to share. Duke can stay downstairs. Emma should share with Conor.”
“Conor goes in the other house,” Alanna says softly. “With Pawel.”
“I thought Nevaeh would go there?”
Alanna shakes her head. “Nevaeh wants the one with the kitchen. Conor needs to stay with his dad. They can have the other house when they come visit.”
“Pawel can stay—” Colt’s words are muffled as Leo claps a hand over his mouth. Doesn’t matter. Pawel is absolutely aware what he was going to say.
Leo tucks Colt close as he looks down at the two small girls staring up at them. “Let’s hold off on assigning bedrooms until we decide if we’re going to buy this house. There are others we can look at, too.”
“I like this one,” Jennie insists, Alanna nodding next to her. “You should see upstairs. It’s really nice. I like it.”
“You two—” Pawel cuts off when they all look at him. “Go look upstairs. I want to go look around on my own for a bit.”
“Go see your house,” Alanna encourages him.
It’s not his house, but that’s not a bad idea either. He’ll get some time to walk outside. He can clear his head. He won’t have Colt’s and Leo’s fingers grazing his skin every time they pass by.
Janice glances up when he passes through the living room, tracing his steps through there, then the family room and kitchen, and finally into the garage. He realizes that there’s a car in the garage that he didn’t even notice on the way in. He should have noticed it. He can’t think how he missed it.
It’s old, and it isn’t in very good shape. There’s rust along the running boards, and over the back bumper. The green paint on the rear quarter panel is bubbled and looks like it might peel. The top is off, although Pawel can see the hard top leaning against the far wall; he has no idea where the canvas might be. Still. It’s a Jeep, and it reminds him starkly both of high school, and of being transported to another world. He runs his hand along the hood, and spots a piece of paper tucked beneath one wiper blade. When he carefully smoothes it out, it reads, “Doesn’t run. Comes with the property. Keep or sell for scrap as you wish.”
Oh. “Someone will love you,” Pawel murmurs, patting the hood lightly. “Not me, though. Not right now. I wouldn’t know how to get you running.”
He makes himself walk away from the car, down the road to the house that Janice referred to as a cottage. It’s not far, the road curving, then ending in front of it, giving it the illusion of being across the road when it’s really on the same side as the main house. From the outside, it looks as if it might be smaller than his home in Unity. The porch runs across the front, and there’s another deck above it, but no door to it, only a window. The front door is unlocked, so he steps inside.
The entryway is small, dominated by a table to one side and a coat rack by the door. There’s a pair of shoes under the rack, and Pawel wonders if this house is staged, or if someone actually lives in it. Stairs lead up right away, and the living room is off to one side. Pawel walks through the bottom floor—the living room with a bay window at the front, a modest kitchen with space for a table, and a large attached pantry. There are two bedrooms at the back, and a single bathroom between them. Upstairs is under the sloped roof, creating two rooms across the top of the house. The larger of the two, with the attached bath, has sloped eaves except in the center, where a bed is placed under the dormered roof. The smaller room is at the back: an office attached to the bedroom.
It is smaller than his current house. On the other hand, Pawel could live in this space. Or visit, at the very least, if that’s what Colt and Leo might allow. Or want. He knows Conor would like that.
He makes his way to the front of the upper level, and slides open the window. He can step onto the upper deck from there, looking out over the road to where Colt and Leo are walking, the two girls with them. Pawel leans on the rail and waves; a moment later Alanna and Jennie blink into existence next to him.
“See,” Alanna says. “Pawel likes it.”
Jennie sighs loudly. “I guess Nevaeh can have the room over the other garage. Can we go look inside?”
Pawel gestures at the open window. “Please do. Don’t disturb anything that shouldn’t be disturbed.”
He has to help Jennie, who seems determined to climb through the window rather than take the easier teleportation route. While Alanna waits her turn, her hands clasped behind her back, she whispers, “I like it here, too. If you lived here all the time, we could use all the bedrooms in both houses, right?”
“I don’t—” He cuts off when she lifts her arms and he helps her climb through the window as well. They disappear in a rush of fruity scent almost as soon as they get indoors, and Pawel wonders what the point of climbing in was.
If he lived here all the time… it’s not that far from Unity. It’s beautiful land, welcoming and homey. He suspects there is lingering magic in the land that he could draw on to work through setting wards. Even if he’s not… if they’re not… he’d still do that for Colt and Leo.
He hasn’t seen them in so long, and right this second, the idea of walking away from them seems strange. It’s a complicated development in his mind.
“What do you think?” Leo leans out the window, replaced a moment later by an orange cat on the sill. He leaps down and becomes Leo again, crowding Pawel against the rail. It’s not uncomfortable, just close, with Leo’s warmth next to him and Leo’s hand on his hip.
“I think half your children will try to set up a house of their own if you buy this,” Pawel replies quietly. “I also think that Alanna is ready to move in, with or without you. Probably with Jennie.”
“I think four and five years old might be a bit young to strike out on their own, but I see what you mean.” Leo’s gaze is on the trees across the road. He lifts his free hand, pointing. “There are paths, and the road could be continued. We could build more houses, and we could build an interior walkway between the two existing houses if we want. This one isn’t all that far away, if we wanted to connect them.”
Pawel stares down the road, trying to envision a connection between the two houses. “A playroom,” he murmurs. “A hall running behind the main garage, opening into a large space with huge windows, then narrowing again to a hall that connects to the front porch. It would work.”
Leo leans into him, squeezing him. “Exactly. It could work.”
“This house reminds me of the Herne home in Haverhill.” Pawel glances behind him at the modest exterior. “Not this house in particular, but what you are considering doing. They have wings built around a central space for gathering. Clan,” he says, and Leo nods as if that’s obvious. “They may have histories on how their space was built. It’s designed for all kinds of Clan, with huge built-in bathing spaces. You also might want to get involved in their politics.”
Leo snorts. “Not likely.”
Pawel understands his reticence. “They’re changing,” he says quietly. “You could be a part of that change. Alaric and his mother, Alia, are very different from Theobald.” He might be exaggerating about Alia, but at the same time, he knows she is changing. He’s seen what she might become.
“I’ll talk to them. I’m aware of them.” Leo exhales, the breath warm against Pawel’s cheek just before he feels the ghost of a touch from Leo’s lips. “I know more about the communities around us than you give me credit for,” he murmurs, mouth against the shell of Pawel’s ear. “We may not be as communal as most Clan, but we know who’s around. You are not the only expert in some things. Some of us have been raised in this.”
Heat suffuses Pawel’s skin, warming him from the inside out. “Of course,” he says, all other words fleeing.
A low, huffed laugh before Leo steps away. “I have something for you back at home.” When Pawel gives him a confused look, Leo adds, “A case folder. There’s not much in it. The background check on Emma’s parents—two Weather Witches, living mundane lives and working mundane jobs. Emma woke up one morning and her parents were gone. No sign that they’d left, no sign of forced entry, all their things left behind. There was no trace of any foul play. They had a good, middle-class life, and from all witness accounts, they loved their daughter. I don’t know if that’ll help.”
“It might help Del understand who she’s looking for.” Pawel isn’t sure how Del does what she does, or what, in fact, she can do. But every little bit is a help. “Thank you.”
“Anything you need,” Leo says. “And of course, anything for Emma. Thank you. I just hope we don’t find something really bad. She feels like she’s finally starting to settle in.” He has a small smile as he adds, “I think having Conor helps.”
Pawel should protest that they aren’t part of the family. But Leo and Colt made it clear that they have been adopted for the summer, and that they are welcome to visit. Pawel’s fingers itch to pull out his phone and call Mac, to talk to her about whatever this is that he’s fallen into. But no, she’s with her father this weekend, and he won’t interrupt that time. Instead he exhales and closes that small distance between himself and Leo again. He leans his elbows on the rail and lets his shoulder press into Leo, waiting until Leo presses back.
It’s comfortable.
It’s nice.
“I’m glad we’re here to help,” Pawel murmurs. That’s the truth, at least, even if it ignores everything else. Pawel can commit to that much.
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 38
The Meaning of Home Chapter 38
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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Pawel is standing outside when the truck arrives. He waves to direct Shane to park it along the driveway, just past the house but enough off to the side that there will still be plenty of room to pass it on the way to the second house. There’s already a long line of cars in place, and Shane pulls up behind them, Anita pulling her own car in behind.
It’s not a large truck—he’s left all of his furniture back at the house for Anita to use, aside from his own desk and Conor’s bed. By the time Shane walks over, leaning on his cane with the key to the rental dangling from the fingertips of his free hand, Colt is outside as well. Colt moves in close to Pawel, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “Is this moving day or an invasion force?”
“You take in kids; I take in college students,” Pawel responds. “And sometimes their parents. These three are Shane, Jess, and Pels.” He points to them each in turn, and the kids wave, their soul mark ink darkly visible on the inside of their wrists. “Shane and Pels are part of Coven on campus, and Jess has been studying the mathematics of magic and ritual. Which reminds me, I should make sure she’s in touch with Val—” 
Pawel cuts off as Colt presses against his cheek, turning his face and tilting him down so Colt can claim his mouth in a kiss just long enough to steal his words.
“No working today,” Colt says. “We’ve got enough chaos going on with the move. Leo’s family is here, too, and I know I’ve seen more of your college adoptees around. Not to mention Chelsea taking over the kitchen like she lives here. I’m pretty sure I heard Nevaeh offering her the couch in her apartment over the garage.”
“Do we think that would help keep Nevaeh more in line when she’s not living in the main house, or do we think Chelsea will only encourage her to get into trouble?”
Colt snorts at Pawel’s question. “Pretty sure the answer to that is just yes, in general. Both. But that said, I’m also pretty sure your ex is trying to move in while it’s all chaos and we’re not paying attention.”
They haven’t explicitly discussed it, but Pawel has a feeling that they’ve all known that Chelsea’s become a part of this extended family already. “Sounds about right,” he says, just in case Colt needs to know he’s okay with it.
“That’s what I figured.” 
Pawel takes Colt’s response as acceptance, and they’ll talk it over in more detail later. Chelsea will need a room of her own, eventually. Maybe in the basement. Or in the new addition they’re planning in the space between the master suite and the garage. Or possibly… no, it’s all thoughts for later. They have a lot of plans for the future; Pawel’s pretty sure this house will be under construction for years.
Shane jingles the keys dangling from his fingers, reclaiming Pawel’s attention. As soon as Pawel looks at him, Shane tosses the keys. Pawel just barely manages to catch them before they hit the ground. 
“Where do you want us to take things in to?” Jess offers. “We want to get unloaded and head back to Unity. Cheyenne’s at a friend’s place, so I know Pels’s mom wants to pick her up, and well, we kind of have plans.” She looks from Shane to Pels and grins.
“You’re all welcome to stay for dinner,” Colt offers. “But if you just want to unload and get going, all the rooms inside have signs on them, as long as Pawel labeled his boxes.”
“Conor’s room is—” Complicated. Conor’s room is complicated, splitting his space between this house and sharing a room with Duke, and the other house, where he’ll share space with Emma. “Put his boxes upstairs in the room labeled for Duke. The library is at the front of the house, and my room is the big master suite near the center. The desk is going into the library—get Alaric and Chris to help move that.”
Pels has a phone out, texting, and a moment later Alaric and Chris come out to open the back of the truck. 
“Football players are definitely useful for hauling heavy objects,” Colt muses. “I suppose I can forgive you for the invasion force. Nash and Caity have already moved into the house in back, by the way. They bought the staging furniture, and brought over what they had in storage. Emory took the extra bedroom there; they said they wanted some space from their siblings, and they get on well with both Emma and Conor.”
“This is definitely becoming a community and an exercise in co-parenting,” Pawel says.
“You’re just figuring that out now?” Colt nudges him towards the truck. “Come on. Let’s get your things in where they belong.”
Pawel makes several trips, arms aching from the weight of the boxes he carries. Some go into the library, where he pauses to hold the door while Chris and Alaric work to move his desk through it. On his way back outside, he stops to wave at Chelsea and Nevaeh, who are plating food in the kitchen. There’s a bright burst of fruit-scented sparkles; Alanna and Jennie blink into existence, then disappear just as quickly when Nevaeh shouts at them. He hasn’t seen his own child at all, but Conor has to be around somewhere. There’s only so far he can go.
When they are down to a few boxes of books left in the truck, Pawel grabs the last box labeled “bedroom” and carries it in, setting it carefully on the extremely large bed. He opens it, and carefully lays out framed pictures across the bed. It looks as if Colt and Leo have already set up their own picture gallery on the tops of both bureaus. While he was packing, he had dug through old pictures, printed a few that had never seen the light before, and picked up new frames. He has his own timeline ready to intermingle with theirs, to combine their lives. 
He has pictures from high school: one of him and Leo, taken by a tourist while they were in the middle of their road trip, and a formal picture of him and Colt from senior prom. He has two pictures from when he was still a student at PHU. One is of a large group of friends from orientation, with him and Chelsea grinning at the center, and the other was taken later, when Chelsea was heavily pregnant with Conor. He’d put away all the images of that life, and now it’s time to bring them back. It’s time to merge the past with his present; he’s pretty sure none of them are going away again.
The rest of his pictures chronicle Conor’s growth, and their life together. There’s a picture of Conor and Alan. There are new, recent pictures of Conor and Emma, as well as one he managed to sneak of Conor and Chelsea when they weren’t looking.
“Pawel?” Leo’s voice precedes him. The door opens as Leo pokes his head in, “Cap and Daisy are here and…. You okay?”
“Hm?” Pawel looks up, the picture of Conor and Chelsea still in his hands. “Just trying to figure out exactly how to fit in.” He realizes as he says it that while that’s not exactly what he means—he wants to slot his pictures into the timeline where they belong—it’s also exactly what he means. This move is so much more than a new house. It’s a whole new life.
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of room.” Leo walks over and surveys the pictures before selecting the two from high school. He holds them above the bureaus, against the wall. In the old room, under the sloped ceiling, that space didn’t exist, but now the gallery can extend. “That’s what this move is about—all of us making space for each other. We’ll weave this all together and let our histories intermingle the same way our futures will.” He sets the two pictures on the bureau to the left of the other images, in the place at the start where they belong. “Bring them over.”
Colt comes looking for them a few minutes later, and joins in sorting the pictures. By the time they are done, no pictures are displayed but they’ve decided on the correct order for the timeline. Leo’s made a note to pick up hooks at the hardware store—the latest addition to a long list of needs—so they can figure out the exact layout later.
It’s not a finished project, but they’ve gotten started. And that little bit makes Pawel feel more settled into this space.
“Pawel?” The call of his name comes from somewhere beyond the closed door to the room.
“Your father’s been looking for you,” Colt points out. “He said he sent Leo, and I came to see exactly how distracted you were.” He smirks. “I was expecting something other than picture sorting.”
“Not while everyone’s in the house; save that thought until after the move.” Pawel shoves lightly at Colt when he comes close; it does him no good and he finds himself wrapped up in a hug with both of them. He exhales, leaning into them. “I just needed a little time, that’s all. I’m good now.”
When they emerge into the hall, Dad is right there, hand raised to knock on the door. “Didn’t want to interrupt,” Dad says, “but everyone seems to think you’ve all gotten lost. Also, the girls are in the kitchen and claim no one’s allowed in until they’re done baking because of cookie theft? There’s been a lot of yelling.”
“Adding teleportation to Jennie’s sneaky arsenal of tricks to get sugar really has made it difficult to keep her away from it,” Leo says. 
“It doesn’t seem to harm her,” Pawel says. “She might even benefit from a higher sugar diet. We’ll just need to buy more.”
“Pretty sure we could go broke buying out a bakery every day,” Colt says dryly, “but yes, I see what you mean.”
“Hey.” Mac’s right there by Pawel’s elbow. “Conor’s climbing all over the Jeep in the garage, and I was wondering if that’s a good idea. Also, Matt and Jaiden have created a barricade at their door and Alanna keeps teleporting past it, and there’s a lot of yelling involved. Jennie’s out back informing the kids setting up camp that they aren’t her Papa’s kids, so they can’t have him. Oh, and where are the first aid supplies? Hannah burned herself trying to rescue a pan of cookies from the oven before Jennie got them. Jennie did not seem to care that they were still molten sugar levels of hot.”
“I—” Pawel halts, unsure what to address first. New data about Jennie and sugar gets filed away—he’s not studying her; he’s just trying to remember what’s going to be important as a parent.
“I’m not sure we’ve unpacked the first aid supplies yet, but if you can’t find the right box near one of the bathrooms, I’ve got a kit in my car,” Leo says. “Should be unlocked and the kit is in the trunk. I’ll take care of Jennie and my nieces and nephews. Colt, you handle Matt and Jaiden. Pawel, Conor and that Jeep are all yours. Like father, like son, apparently.” He grins then, tangling his fingers briefly with Pawel’s to squeeze them. “I’d been meaning to ask. Should we be looking into getting it towed away, or do you want to see if we can resurrect it? It reminds me of the one you had in high school.”
“That’ll depend on whether it’s even fixable. But I want it,” Pawel admits. “I’ve seen a Jeep in worse shape still on the road—we actually drove it with Shadows chasing us, in the other world. I wouldn’t mind having one again, although I’ll probably still drive the practical car to Unity and back.”
“Let me get the first aid kit to the kitchen, then I’ll meet you in the garage,” Mac says. “I’ve got an idea.”
She’s gone before Pawel can reply, so he supposes his agreement is assumed. He steals a kiss from Colt and Leo before they head off, then realizes his father is still standing there, watching him with a small smile. “What?” Pawel asks.
“Just glad we’ve both got someone good in our lives,” Dad says. “Heard you finally met Daisy.”
“You could’ve told me you were dating someone,” Pawel replies. At Dad’s eyebrow raise, he admits, “Okay, I guessed you were dating someone. I had no idea it was someone who knew Mom, though.”
“You okay with it?” Dad asks. “I’m planning on keeping her. Just have to convince her to move in one of these days.”
“I’m more than okay with it. You okay with all this?” Pawel gestures at the door to the living room, where they can hear all the noise and chaos from the rest of the house.
“I taught them to call me Dziadziu, didn’t I?” Dad counters. “I’m not a complete idiot. I knew how those boys felt about you, and I knew how you felt about them. None of you are good at hiding your emotions. You’re just oblivious when it comes to admitting to them.”
Pawel puts a hand over his heart. “Right, thanks for the direct wound, Dad. I love you, too.” But it’s true, and he knows he’s lucky to have had such a good parent in his life. “I do love you. Thank you for everything.” He goes easily when Dad reels him in for a back-slapping hug, holding on tight for a moment as if he were ten instead of almost thirty.
Which. Oh, well, shit. “Dad. Tomorrow’s my birthday.”
Dad lets him go, raising both eyebrows. “Is that a surprise?”
Pawel nods. He’d honestly forgotten. “I’ve been busy.” It sounds like a good, valid defense in his own mind. “It didn’t even occur to me that all this was happening for my twenty-ninth birthday. But I… I honestly can’t think of a better gift,” he admits. 
“As long as you’re happy.” Dad gives him a nudge towards the living room. “I hear someone calling your name. You should probably get out to the Jeep before Mac comes looking for you again.”
Right, because his son is getting into trouble, and God only knows what he’s trying to do to the Jeep. Conor’s never met something he couldn’t try to fix with magic. And it’s Pawel’s job as his father to— He stops and turns. “Dad. Thanks for everything. Thanks for being such a good dad, and being such a good grandfather. I know I wasn’t the easiest kid, but you were amazing.”
“We’re amazing together,” Dad says.
And yeah, that fills Pawel’s heart because that’s it. It’s all about having family to lean on when he needs them, and being able to let them lean back.
By the time Pawel makes it to the garage, Conor is sitting in the driver’s seat of the Jeep, while Mac leans on the door, and Alaric is under the hood. Conor holds his hands up as soon as he sees Pawel. “I didn’t try starting it.”
“Her,” Pawel corrects, running his hand across the front quarter panel. “And she doesn’t start, at least according to the note that was on her last time I was here. She’s a gift with the property. I suspect the last owner just didn’t want to deal with getting her towed, but I’m happy she’s here.”
“You used to have a Jeep, right?” Conor scrambles over the center space, falling into the passenger seat. Mac opens the door as he goes, motioning for Pawel to take his place.
Pawel hitches himself up, careful of the rust on the running board; he’s not sure it’ll hold much weight. He settles himself in, adjusting the seat and the mirrors with a practiced hand. “I had one pretty much like this one. Different color. I like this green, and if we try to restore this Jeep, we’ll probably need to get her repainted. It’s peeling all over the rear quarter panel. She’ll need a new canvas top, too, unless we just want her to be either open, or use the hard top.” He points to where the hard top leans against the far wall. “I’d like to restore her,” he says softly.
Conor rubs his hands together, sparks spilling from his palms. He grins. “I’ve got this, Dad.”
“No.” Pawel covers Conor’s hands, his word punctuated by the thud of the hood dropping down into place. “Some things magic can’t—and shouldn’t—fix. You might do more damage.”
The smile slips away from Conor’s expression. “I just wanted to help. I thought we could have….”
“A project?” Pawel asks, when Conor’s voice fades. “I’m not sure I’m going to be any good at fixing up a classic car.”
“You know someone who is,” Mac points out. She gestures at the door to the garage, like someone should be there; Pawel doesn’t see anything other than more cars—and one motorcycle—in the driveway. “Trish,” Mac continues. “She does all her own work on her truck and bike. She and Alaric built his bike this summer.”
“You did?” Conor bounces to his knees, hands on the dashboard as he leans to look at Alaric. “You built a motorcycle?”
“Junkyard parts,” Alaric says, with a small, gruff smile. “Trish helped me get it all put together, and taught me how to take care of it. She’d probably be up for fixing this Jeep up. She likes this kind of stuff. Said she learned how to take apart an engine practically before she could walk.”
“Can I see your bike?” Conor pushes his door open, spilling out of the Jeep and stumbling by the time his feet reach the floor. He bounces back up. “I’m okay. Alaric, I want to see your bike. Can you take me for a ride? Dad, is it okay if he takes me for a ride?”
Pawel can just imagine how that would go. Alaric would take Conor, then he’d have to take Emma, and soon it’d be like pony rides, but with a bike. Alaric’s expression is blandly polite, tight around the eyes. “Maybe not today, Conor,” Pawel says, and the lines around Alaric’s eyes ease. “I’ll talk to Alaric and see if we can arrange something for a day when there isn’t as much going on.”
Alaric nods with a grumble of assent.
They go out to look, and Pawel is impressed with the detail. From the description, he’d expected to be able to tell that it was put together out of junk parts, but everything gleams like new. It all seems to fit together, and when Alaric starts it, Pawel hears the rumble of an old Harley engine.
“Trish custom built the orange bike she rides,” Mac points out. “You should definitely talk to her. She’d love being able to work on it here, too, where there’s room to spread out, and have a roof over her head.”
Conor looks up at Pawel, his eyes wide. Pawel doesn’t know who Conor thinks he needs to convince; Pawel had already decided to keep the Jeep the moment they signed for this property. “Fine,” he says, as if he’s giving in. “And I’ll ask her if she minds if you shadow her.”
“She’ll probably make you learn how to take care of it,” Alaric warns. “She tested me while we were putting my bike together.”
“She needs a name.” Conor darts back into the garage, his voice echoing once he’s inside. “The Jeep, not Trish.”
“Agreed, but why don’t we wait until she’s road ready before we figure that out,” Pawel tells him. He’s got some vague thoughts now, but he has a feeling he won’t know her name for sure until he can see her personality sparkling out from under the rust. “Right now, we need to—”
“Conor!” Emma slides into the garage, stumbling as she skids on the cement, her braids flying. “Come help me get our room set up. Mom and Dad got my computer out of storage and we bought a webcam and we can go call Alan.”
Conor scrambles to catch up with her, and they both race off down the road to the other house. Pawel spots Nash and Caitlyn lingering in the open door of the garage.
“Alaric, Mac—these are Nash and Caitlyn. Emma’s parents. They’re—”
“Weather Witches, and taking the house at the back so Emma doesn’t have to leave her new family,” Nash says.
“Call me Caity.”
“Caity,” Pawel repeats. He ignores the look Mac gives him; she’s already heard the rest of the story and knows exactly what happened. At least as far as they understand it. “I bet you didn’t realize you’d be gaining an entire extended family along with your daughter.”
“It’s going to be something to get used to,” Nash admits. “Having a separate house will help.”
“Thanks for taking in Conor part-time, and giving a room to Emory,” Pawel adds. “Things could shift as we add more space in the main house.”
“It’s fine. He’s a good kid, and he’s promised not to magic up the place too much.” The way Nash says it, Pawel suspects that Conor’s said it several times. Which likely means he’s already done a few unintentional bits of magic in Emma’s room. “I think we’ll be fine.”
“It’s kind of nice,” Caity says softly. “We’re part of a community, and most importantly, Emma’s happy. It’ll give us some support while we work on getting ourselves reintegrated with the world. We need to find jobs again.”
“I think Emma will enjoy having you home while you look.”
Nash and Caity exchange a glance, their smiles soft and fond. “I think we’ll like that, too. I still can’t believe we—I’m just glad we’re here, now,” Caity says. 
Nash touches her shoulder. “We should probably go see what they’re up to, and if they’re able to get the webcam working.”
They walk out with Nash’s hand on her lower back, Caity leaning towards him. They’re going to be fine, Pawel thinks. They’ve got each other to anchor them in the chaos that is the Papa-Harrison household.
Papa-Harrison-Szczek household.
Wow, that’s a mouthful. No one is adding a second hyphen to the surname any time soon. Pawel’s fine with that, too. He knows it doesn’t make him any less a part of the chaos to not have it named after him.
But.
The details of it are closing in around him, pressing against his skin. He leans on the Jeep, fingers curling against the bubbles of the paint. 
“You okay?” Mac asks.
“I’m fine,” Pawel says, and it isn’t actually a lie. It’s just not the entire truth, either. He glances over to see her and Alaric waiting there, as if expecting him to say something else. “I think I’m just going to go grab some breathing room and unpack the library. You can come along, if you feel like organizing my books.”
Mac and Alaric exchange a look. “Nah,” Mac says. “I think we’re good. We’ll go find Chris and see what else needs some moving around here.”
“Thanks.” Pawel ducks inside, skirting around the noise of the kitchen. Matt and Jaiden are in the living room, arguing over who will carry boxes upstairs. When Pawel blinks, he thinks might see and smell Alanna and Jennie passing through, but they’re gone before he’s sure.
He makes his way to the front of the house and closes the door as he enters the library. Sound fades, muted by the thickness of the real wood door. No cheap hollow core doors in this house. When he’s in here, it can be him and his books and he has a chance to focus.
More importantly, right now, he has a little bit of alone time.
He hadn’t really thought this part through—that by becoming a part of the household there would always be someone who needed him. There are nine children in this house, and only three adults. They’re outnumbered. Chaos is going to become a way of life. Pawel is so used to it being him and Conor, and having the help of his friends and neighbors… this will take some adjustment.
It’s worth it, he thinks. He lifts a box of books onto the desk and looks at the empty built-in shelves. The desk isn’t in the right spot, but he can fix that once there’s more room to move around. Right now, he just needs to empty and break down boxes. Putting his books on these shelves—organizing them in a way that’s less haphazard than just throwing them wherever they land—this means it’s permanent. He’s moving in. And yes, it’s worth it.
He lets himself fall into an organizational fugue. Every book is a piece of his past—either something he wrote, or something he collected, or something he curated. This is the sum of a decade of research, pulling together the story of Talent as best he could. And he’s wrong, he knows. He has learned so much, and yet, so much of it is still incorrect. He has a long way to go, and maybe he’ll never know the truth of Talent. Maybe they’ll never figure it all out. But at least he’s working on building a resource for those who come after him. He’s creating a knowledgebase for the people who Emerge, and for Lineage Talents who never had that history within their families. 
He begins by placing books in chronological order, as they were in his old house. The notebooks look right, but he realizes that all of his personal notes should be in one place, so he digs through boxes until he finds them. Different journals—some hardcover, some softcover, some reflecting the different phases he’s had for favorite pens. He particularly likes the two written entirely in a peacock blue fountain pen that was lost somewhere on campus.
He puts stickies on the bookcases, labeling them loosely by type of Talent, then labeling shelves by memoir versus interview versus theories versus texts. He starts a pile of books that don’t fit into any category, then starts adding new types of Talents, new ways to break out what he knows. Like Travelers. Just a year ago he had no idea they existed as a group, but now he can’t deny it, not knowing what he does about Shadowwalkers and Teleporters and… Carolyn, whatever she is.
Pawel doesn’t see where Chelsea comes from. A shadow, he assumes, since the door never opens. He turns around and she’s there, sitting on the desk with her legs crossed and her elbows on her knees, chin perched on her hands as she watches him. He stares at her, and she smiles slowly, letting her hands fall to her legs. “Want help?” she offers. She doesn’t wait for an answer, sliding off the desk and smoothing her sundress down over her legs, then redoing her ponytail to neatly catch the wisps of hair around her face.
She looks at the shelves, nodding to herself. “If you put things on the shelves, I can either alphabetize or put them in date order—don’t give me that look, I’m fully capable of opening something up to check a date. You keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll get this finished.”
Every once in a while, when Pawel empties a box, Chelsea breaks from her organizing and flattens it to toss on to a growing pile. As soon as they’ve cleared enough space, they work together to tug the desk into the right position; the whole room suddenly seems larger. Pawel grins, and when he turns to her, she holds up a hand for a high five.
It’s comfortable working with her. It’s going to be okay going forward, he thinks. Somehow, despite having been gone for so long, Chelsea has fit herself into the cracks seamlessly. It works.
They’ve finished most of the boxes by the time the door opens. The current box is on the desk, with books piled all around it. Pawel hasn’t quite figured out a category for them yet, but it’ll come to him. Probably in the middle of the night, when he wakes up and needs to start working right away. As much as Leo and Colt keep saying they like the idea of Professor Szczek, that could change when he gets into middle-of-the-night idea mode.
Speaking of Leo and Colt… there they both are, just inside the door, looking somehow both concerned and fond at the same time.
Chelsea giggles. “I think this is my cue to leave.” She nudges her way between them so she can escape, pushing the door closed in her wake.
“Food’s been set up in the courtyard.” Leo holds out a hand, and Pawel takes it, letting Leo draw him close. Colt brackets him on the other side and he and Leo both wrap their arms around Pawel.
It’s been nice to be alone for a little while, but this… this is very good, too.
Leo kisses his forehead. “Still panicking?”
Pawel huffs a soft laugh. “Remember that cliff I was poised on the edge of? I’m pretty sure this is the part where I’ve already leapt off and now I’m in free fall.”
“We’ll catch you,” Colt promises. “We’re not going to let you fall.”
“Although I get the feeling that keeping you safe is going to be a full time occupation,” Leo says dryly. “At least we can keep an eye on you when you’re here.”
“And you need to talk to us,” Colt says. “Whatever’s going on. None of this trying to do everything on your own that we keep hearing about. This is a partnership. There are three of us and nine of them; we have to band together.”
“Speaking of the kids.” Leo lets his head fall forward, forehead to forehead with Pawel. Colt reaches over Pawel’s shoulder to run his fingers soothingly through Leo’s hair. “I’ve already had a talk with Nevaeh about what we expect for behavior since she’s essentially got her own apartment. I know she’ll be okay—but I also know what teens her age can get up to.”
“Wonder how you know that?” Pawel says. “It amazes me how few of the students I teach think about the fact that for me, it was only a decade ago that I was in their position. I remember it pretty damned clearly. I’m not senile yet.” He hesitates and adds, “She and I have talked some. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. I’m glad she’s talking to you.”
“She said she’s talking to Chelsea, too.”
“Good.” Chelsea and Pawel might have made their mistakes, but he’s glad to see her bonding with these kids. His kids. God, these are all becoming his kids.
“You’re panicking again,” Colt murmurs, his lips pressed to the curve where Pawel’s shoulder meets his neck. “Stop panicking. I could help with that.”
“Save that thought for later.” Leo carefully disentangles himself, then separates Colt and Pawel as well. “There’s an entire family and extended friend group waiting outside for us. Let’s go celebrate.”
Right. They’ve just started a whole new life here. “I have work to do tomorrow,” Pawel says, slipping one hand into Leo’s and the other into Colt’s. It’s a little awkward to walk three together in the hall, but they manage to make it safely through the house and living room, to the sliding glass doors that lead to the courtyard. He can see that someone’s started a fire, and Alaric and Chris stand by the grill along with Dad. Mac is off to one side with a collection of children, some of whom Pawel doesn’t recognize; they must be Leo’s family. Small knots of people are gathered around—along with one house cat that Pawel suspects is Clan.
Conor is with Emma and her parents, sparks dancing over his fingertips as Emma wiggles her fingers under a small storm cloud above his head.
Colt makes a soft noise. “I love the auras I see,” he murmurs, sliding between Leo and Pawel, his arms behind their backs. “It’s like they all join up, making one big happy aura. Pleased. Sated.”
“This place smells good,” Leo agrees. “It smells like home already.”
Pawel can’t see auras, nor can he smell whatever it is Clan smells. But he can throw his senses wide, trying to draw on whatever that was he experienced in the Dreamscape. He tries to bring out that Faerie sensibility, and instinctual magic bubbles up in a way he hasn’t felt before. He reaches out, touching on each person as his senses flow outward. There are no wards yet, but he can feel a natural building of energy around them all as if they are contributing to the sense of what this place is. Who this place is—as if it’s a being in its own right.
This place has welcomed them, and they are bonding with it in return.
Wards are going to be very easy to set, he thinks. This home wants to keep them safe.
“Come on. They’re waiting for us.” Colt slips between them, sliding the door open and motioning them forward. Pawel has no choice but to go, Leo crowding him from behind to make sure he steps through.
As soon as Colt steps to the side and Pawel is visible, Conor lets loose a bright column of sparks that light up the sky around him. There’s a puff of fruity-scented air, and Pawel just barely manages to get his arms up in time to catch the two small girls that materialize and grab onto him. He scrambles to hold them securely, Alanna nearly strangling him as Jennie simply climbs onto his shoulders and grips his hair.
“Surprise!” Nevaeh yells.
Surprise? Pawel blinks in confusion.
Nevaeh rolls a cart forward from the side, Hannah and Liz hurrying to light candles on what looks more like a porcupine than a cake. It’s too small for the number of candles stuck into it and now burning merrily. He’s a little afraid the flames will melt the frosting if they aren’t blown out quickly.
Colt and Leo tug him towards the cart. It’s not just the one cake. There are also trays of the cookies he saw being made earlier, and several trays of cupcakes. He can’t imagine how they kept Jennie from this much sugar for so long today. As it is, she’s leaning over his shoulder, dangerously close to unbalancing herself as she tries to reach for something.
She leans down and whispers loudly, “Hurry up and make a wish. I want a cupcake. I want lots of cupcakes.” She hesitates, then adds, “If you really don’t want your birthday cake, I can eat it for you.”
Oh. “Right. Tomorrow’s my birthday.” He literally just had this conversation earlier, and he’d already forgotten again. “You arranged a surprise party.”
“Well, the party was already happening,” Nevaeh says. “We just made surprise cupcakes. Everyone helped; even Matt and Jaiden decorated some. So. Surprise!” She pushes the cart closer. “Jennie’s right, though. Make a wish and blow your candles out.”
A wish. Pawel gets closer, bending to where the flames flicker in front of him. Colt’s hand is on one shoulder, and Leo’s on the other. They spread their fingers, and Pawel suspects they can reach each other where their hands span across the back of his neck. They’re all joined together here in this moment.
He can’t think of a single thing to wish for other than this. He wants to be able to have this from here on, going forward. Colt, Leo, their large family. He doesn’t need anything else. This family is already magic on its own.
Pawel closes his eyes on that thought, inhaling. That’s it exactly. He reaches up to touch their hands, tangling them all together.
As he exhales, he doesn’t need to open his eyes to see that the candles have all gone out. He’s already gotten his wish, and he can see the future that lies ahead. He’s found his way home.
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 35
The Meaning of Home Chapter 35
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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It takes almost two weeks before Chelsea and Del are ready to take Pawel and the kids into the Dreamscape.
Pawel hears from them periodically, mostly notes that they are heading into the Dreamscape or have just returned. Chelsea manages to sweep through the house once like a tiny hurricane, her brief visit leaving chaos in her wake, but appeasing Conor’s worry about her safety.
He gets texts from Mattie when they recruit her to help, and one more from Valentine when they use her as a test case to enter and exit the Dreamscape safely.
He can’t fault their level of preparedness, and when it comes down to it, neither can Leo nor Colt. Leo listens and nods along when Del explains, while Colt’s expression remains pinched and tight. But Valentine’s presence during the meeting—the fact that she remained safe—goes a long way to appease most of the remaining concerns. It lets them set a time and a place, and make arrangements for everyone else to be out of the house.
It’s strange being in the house with only two of the nine children, and without Leo and Colt as well. They stand outside, well out of what Mattie and Del believe the range of the gate will be. Gate. As if they know exactly how they open up the way into the Dreamscape, and as if it is something so practical as a mere doorway or gate. Del has, at least, promised that they won’t take the entire house with them. It’s their anchor point—they’ll leave and return from the same place, to give them some sense of stability along the way.
It makes sense. Pawel has essentially moved in at this point. Almost everyone he wants to come back to is here.
“We won’t be gone long,” Chelsea assures him. “We were gone an hour with Valentine, and we went all the way to the place where we think Emma’s parents are and back in that time.”
“You said it’s like a dream.” Conor’s fingers drum against his thigh, his other hand tangled tightly with Emma’s. “So sometimes it might happen fast, and other times it’s slow, like you live five minutes and it takes all night.”
“It won’t be a nightmare.” Chelsea sounds so positive; Pawel wishes he shared that belief.
He’s not sure exactly how the transition happens. He’s sure that Del did something, or maybe it was Del, Chelsea, and Mattie all working together. It’s between one blink and the next, and then they’re standing on a wooded path, trees high around them, light filtering in between the leaves. Pawel recognizes this place, the way the Dreamscape seems to be a forest, at least when Del is leading them. It’s brighter now, and in the distance he sees spires rising. “Is that one of the Wanderer settlements?”
“This way,” Chelsea says. “Mattie, can you get… thank you.”
Mattie swings an arm around Del’s shoulders, dancing her back onto the path. As Del skips, Mattie skips beside her, holding her hand and keeping her in time with their walk.
“Whoa,” Conor whispers.
“We need to stick together.” Emma’s voice quivers. “I don’t want to get lost here.”
“You don’t like it?” Conor holds up his free hand, sparkling light dancing around his fingertips. “Can’t you feel the magic here? It’s like it wants to join us.”
“It’s not safe,” Emma snaps. She yanks on his hand, pulling him forward; Pawel moves quickly to stay with them. “Where are we going? I want to get my parents out of here.”
“It’s okay.” Chelsea speaks softly, matching pace with the kids so she stays beside them. “We just need to follow Del. She knows where we’re going, and Mattie will keep her grounded for us. She gets a little… silly…when we come here. But don’t worry, you’ll be safe. We won’t let you get lost, and we won’t let anything happen to you. This is like dreaming, so just let things happen, okay? Sometimes one step might take you a whole mile, and that’s okay.”
For the next several steps, it seems as if nothing changes. Pawel sees people in the distance, too far away to focus on or to be anything more than blurred images in motion. Conor speaks quietly to Emma, holding on to her and flicking his fingers, sending magic into the trees, while Chelsea drops back to walk with Pawel.
Del and Mattie disappear between one step and the next. Pawel stumbles, but Chelsea’s hand is on his elbow as she says, “Keep going.”
Emma twists to look over her shoulder, mouth open in a round O as Conor’s motion carries her forward, and they are swallowed up as if passing through a shimmering curtain.
“You’re glowing, too,” Chelsea says. She slides her hand down Pawel’s arm to tangle with his fingers, and when she walks backwards, taking him with her, he’s reminded of when they first met. There’s a halo around her head, and a brightness to her smile as if her magic lights her from within.
He reaches his free hand for her, and stumbles as the ground shifts beneath him from dirt path to cobblestone.
“I feel sick,” Emma says softly.
Right. One step can take them a mile; that’s obviously what happened. Pawel files that away in the spot in his mind where Dreamwalkers and Travelers are tightly linked as similar Talents. They stand beneath… above… near? Something something directional he can’t quite manage to parse. Up seems to be down, and down might be sideways, and he can’t manage to use how people move to figure it out because it’s as if they are suddenly in an Escher painting. 
People. As if they are… no, he knows they are people. All of them are sentient beings, despite the fact that he’s fairly certain that some of them might be made of delicate crystal, and others flow like jellyfish along unseen currents in the air.
“Now you’re really glowing,” Chelsea whispers.
“This is so cool.” Conor hasn’t let go of Emma’s hand, but he points to different places in turn, his hand creating gleaming lines in the air as if he holds a lit sparkler. “Don’t worry. I won’t let go. You won’t float away.”
“I’m not worried about that, I just feel kind of like I’m going to throw up,” Emma retorts. “Don’t you?”
Conor shakes his head. “I feel—I feel like magic is everywhere around me. Like for once I’m not the most magical thing in the room. The room is magical. Everything is. I feel like if I breathe too hard I’m going to explode and it’ll be okay. Nothing’s going to hurt me here.”
Emma’s head moves as she focuses on the path of his hand, and by the time he finishes, any hint of a smile has fallen away. She crouches down, curling in on herself, breathing with her head bowed over her knees. “I’m okay,” she snaps when Conor’s hand falls on her back. “We have to find my parents.”
And go home. Pawel supplies the end of the sentence for her. Chelsea leans into him, whispering, “Why don’t you give her a piggyback ride? I bet you could carry her for days without being tired.”
She’s not wrong. He understands exactly what Conor is saying, like the magic is being coaxed from spark to fire without him even needing to call it up. Chelsea helps him hitch Emma up, as Pawel brings his hands behind his back to support her. He summons his magic more easily than he’s ever imagined to weave a cradle between his hands, making a stable seat to help her stay in place. No ritual. No complicated words. Just… a desire to do something, and the magic helping him make it into reality.
“Are you coming?” Mattie asks. She has a hand wrapped around Del’s forearm, fingers biting into the skin. Del twists at the words, her gaze coming to rest on where Pawel stands, Emma on his back, her head tilted down against his shoulder.
“I think it was your fault,” she says cheerfully. “That we came through here in the first place. I think you belong here.”
Shit. That’s a kick in the nuts.
“It wasn’t like this before,” Pawel tries to find an objection, but they’re already moving again. Conor stays by his side, one hand on Emma. It’s so easy to carry her, and she seems to get lighter with every step, as if Conor might be helping. “I didn’t feel like this before.”
“There were Shadows,” Mattie says. “The Dreamscape was broken and split, and now it’s healing. Del’s right. There’s something here that calls to you.”
This is why Chelsea wanted them here. She’s smiling as she moves ahead, taking Mattie’s place to walk with Del. The air shimmers, pulling Chelsea closer to Del as Mattie slips away from her. That shimmer makes it simpler to follow her, like she’s leaving a path in her wake.
Well. Fuck.
“Dad?”
He swallows tightly. “Just follow Del. She knows where we’re going, and she knows how to get out of here when we’re done.” Because Pawel has no idea about either of those things. All he knows is the way things bubble under his skin until he feels like he could fly.
They move in skips and jumps, from path to city and back to path again. Pawel loses track of the way the Dreamscape keeps changing around them as they follow Del through mountains and along rivers, through settlements that he thinks even Escher might have found confusing.
Maybe Escher was a Dreamwalker. Maybe that’s how he had the vision to create the art that he did.
Emma makes a small noise, and Conor murmurs at her, reaching for her shoulder. The shimmer brightens like a curtain, and Del holds it up, bowing as she ushers them forward. “I think you’ll like this one,” Del whispers as they pass through.
She’s right, it’s different. Up and down seem firmly situated where they belong, the chaos confined to the actual buildings and streets around them, as well as the people. But the settlement seems to have the usual number of dimensions rather than adding a fourth or fifth on top of the three they’d expect.
Emma slowly slides from Pawel’s back, coaxed down by Conor. She stands very still at first, breathing in slowly until she seems to feel secure enough to let go and look at Del. “Are they here?” she asks solemnly.
Del crouches down and offers a hand. “I think they are.”
“Dad.” Conor moves closer to him.
“We’ll talk later,” Pawel replies. He can’t quite read Conor’s expression. Delight. Excitement. Wariness. Confusion. All tangled up together in a weave of magic that glows bright around him, entangling with Pawel’s own light. “We have to. I know.”
Conor nods solemnly, for once not arguing. “Okay. I just… okay.”
“Mom!” Emma releases Del’s hand, tearing away from her as she dashes across a town square of cobblestones mixed with a lush field, bordered on one side by what looks like a tavern that can’t decide if it belongs in Ancient Greece or an old town in rural England. She yells again, and a woman turns to look, confusion furrowing her brow.
The woman tilts her head, the crease in her brow going deeper. “I’m sorry?”
“Mom!” Emma barrels full tilt into her, wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist. She holds on, burrowing closer as the woman’s hands fall to her shoulders.
“I—” There’s a helpless expression on the woman’s face, as if she’s wrestling with confusion, and possibly a dawning sense of something wrong. “I don’t… do I…?”
Pawel approaches more slowly, letting Del reach them first, Conor not far behind. Emma refuses to let go of the woman, and the woman has yet to push her away. Emma’s expression goes tight, and the corners of her eyes sparkle with threatening tears. “Mom?”
“I don’t know if I can do something, but I have to try,” Del mutters, just barely loud enough for Pawel to hear as he reaches her side. She seems more coherent than Pawel can remember her being, settled inside herself and aware of where they are and what they are doing here. Del’s fingers wrap around the woman’s wrist where her hand lies on Emma’s shoulder, and she says quietly, “Excuse me. I need to you to wake up, just a little.”
“Mom, please, I need you to come home with me.” Tears run down Emma’s face. Conor budges in close, putting an arm around her back as he awkwardly hugs her from the side. “Mom. Please.”
“I—” The woman looks at Del, at her hand on her wrist, then down to look at the tears on Emma’s face. “I don’t… Em… wait… Emma?”
“Mom?”
“Oh my God.” The woman drops into a crouch as Del’s hand falls away. “Emma. I forgot… I can’t believe I… you’re here. How are you here?” She pulls Emma into a hug, and they’re both crying, her mother’s hands tangled in Emma’s hair, clinging so hard that her knuckles lighten against her dark skin. “Emma. Baby. Where have you… where are… oh my God. What.” Her voice falls flat, failing to finish the question as Emma sobs against her. “I don’t….”
Conor backs up until he bumps into Pawel. He looks over his shoulder and up. “What now?”
“Do you have a place we can go?” Del asks. She’s so serious; it’s a strange look on her. Pawel’s never seen this intensity, not even when they were discussing how to heal the Split. “I think we should talk.”
“Yes, I….” She shakes her head, as if to clear it. “Come with me.” When she rises, she holds out her hand, and Emma clasps it as she’ll never let go again.
They follow her through the town. Emma seems more settled, tears still streaming slowly over her cheeks, but she moves with her head high, and without the pinched expression that implies she’s about to throw up. Maybe it’s the way the town feels less alien, more like it’s created from small pockets of familiarity rather than things impossible to identify.
The house they reach is small, and upon entering, Chelsea, Mattie, and Del all make small sounds, as if it’s a surprise. Emma’s mother calls out, “Nash!” There’s a rustle somewhere further in, as Pawel crowds into the living room with Conor by his side.
“It looks like her apartment,” Chelsea whispers, loud enough that Emma makes a sniffling snort.
“It’s our home,” her mother says. “Welcome?” It’s a questioning tone, as if she’s just remembering to ask what they are all doing there. “I’m Caitlyn, and this is my husband Nash.” She holds out her free hand to reach for the man emerging from the hall.
Nash stops without taking it, brows furrowing deeply. “Caity, what…?” His gaze drops to where Emma stares at him, her chin wobbling as the tears flow freely again.
“Wake up,” Del whispers. “Just a little, please.”
“Em?” The name chokes off just past his lips. “What…?”
“Daddy!” She jumps forward, letting go of Caitlyn so she can wrap her arms around her father instead. Nash crouches to lift her, and she buries her face in his throat, small sobs making her shoulders shake.
Caitlyn stares at them, then slowly looks around. Her gaze lights on different spots on the wall, the furniture, almost everything but the people. Pawel’s seen that look before: the way someone catalogs a place and is trying to figure out what’s not quite right. Maybe he should explain.
“This is the Dreamscape,” Del says. “But you aren’t exactly dreaming.”
“We came to get you,” Emma says hoarsely, words muffled against her father’s shoulder. “You’ve been gone for months. Everyone said you were probably dead, but I knew you weren’t. Then I met Conor and his dad had disappeared, too, and we thought when his dad came back that maybe you could come back. And they found you. They found you for me. I want to take you home. Please. Come home with me.”
“We are home?” Caitlyn walks over to the couch, not even looking at the way there as she moves with easy familiarity. “This is our apartment, honey.”
“It’s a house!” Emma yells. “It’s a house in a town that’s really weird, but not as weird as the other ones we saw and I keep feeling like my head’s all spinny and I kind of want to throw up, but I came here to find you and bring you home. Please. You have to come home.”
“It’s not that weird,” Conor whispers. Pawel puts and arm around his shoulder and brings him close. He can feel the way their magic interacts when Conor leans into him, doubling and redoubling.
“You’re glowing again,” Chelsea says. “It’s really kind of cool.”
“I’m not sure it’s safe for you to be in here.” Mattie pokes at Pawel’s chest, sparks flying around her fingers. “Maybe head outside for a little while. Del and I will explain what’s going on, and see if we can figure out how to get them to come with us and leave the Dreamscape.”
“Del seems….” Pawel looks to where she sits on the couch next to Caitlyn, speaking softly as Caitlyn shakes her head. Del reaches for Caitlyn’s hand, enfolding it in both of hers, careful and gentle. “She seems like this is a good place for her. I was expecting her to go dancing off into the town square, communing with the Dreamscape like she normally does. She’s so coherent.”
“And you’re very very sparkly,” Chelsea points out. “Come on. Outside before something interacts in bad ways.” 
Pawel lets her guide them outside, keeping one arm around Conor to make sure that he follows. They leave Emma alone with her parents and Del, trusting Mattie to keep a watchful eye over them. There are two ways this conversation can go, and he hopes that this ends with Nash and Caitlyn joining them for the trek home. “I wonder how much more they have to wake up to realize what’s going on.”
“Not your problem right now.” Chelsea pushes Pawel to sit on a short stone wall that he’s not sure was there when he went inside. “You and me. Let’s talk.”
“Dad?” Conor says quietly. Pawel hears a dozen questions in the way Conor says his name, and he’s not sure if he has answers for anything.
“I think…” he says slowly. He stops, because he’s still twisting things over in his mind. He’s still trying to understand, and to put things into terminology that match with what he does know, and what mythology says. “My mother once told me that she walked out of Faerie and Dad found her, so she stayed.”
Chelsea nods solemnly, and doesn’t interrupt.
“I thought she was joking. We always joked about finding wee folk and about magic when I was little,” Pawel continues softly. “I wanted to believe, and then the Emergence happened. Then I met you”—he glances at Chelsea—“and I Emerged. Magic was real. Talent was real. But Faerie—that wasn’t a place. How could it be? But this…” He trails off as he looks up and tries to take in the shattered, mixed-up reality of the settlement around them, and the way it just feels right in his bones. “My mother was a Wanderer,” he says slowly. “And Wanderers are where our Fae legends come from. She wasn’t joking, or lying, or exaggerating. She grew up in the Dreamscape, and she came to our world, and she stayed. This place was corrupted by the Shadows, but now… now it feels kind of like we belong here.”
“Awesome,” Conor says with a bright, sharp grin. “When I get home, I’m going to tell Alan I’m a fairy prince.”
Pawel barks out a laugh before he manages to cut himself off. Conor knocks into his shoulder on one side, and then they’re both laughing. Pawel can’t say what’s so funny, but it feels good to laugh. It feels good to just let the emotions slide out of him until there are tears running down his face and he’s crying and he doesn’t know why that’s happening either. He can’t stop, hiccuping as he tries to draw breath as his body shakes.
Arms wrap around him, holding on tight. His head tilts down, cradled against a shoulder with a hand at the back of his head and another stroking along his back. He thinks he hears someone talking in the distance, but it’s lost in the way magic seems to close everything else out, cocooning him safely as he sobs. He’s sobbing. He doesn’t know why, just that the emotion is rolling through him, over him, riding him until it finally fades.
“Sh, sh,” Chelsea whispers, her voice coming back into focus, the soft syllables timed with the slow pats along his back.
“Dad?” Conor asks. He’s sitting on the wall next to him still, leaning into him while Chelsea holds him from the other side. His voice seems small and worried, in ways he hasn’t sounded since he developed opinions and a snarky attitude.
“I’m okay.” Pawel’s voice comes out more hoarse than he expects. “How long was I…?”
“Time’s weird,” Chelsea murmurs. “A while. But no one’s come out looking for us yet, so it’s fine. Feel better?”
“I don’t know why I—” He shakes his head. “It just felt like… something…” When he looks down, his hands are glowing softly and steadily, silver rimming around the usual bright gold of his sparks. He lifts his hand, rubbing thumb and forefinger together to slough off a shower of diamond-bright sparkles. He exhales. “That’s new.”
He pushes at Chelsea, releasing himself from her hold as he stands. He brushes his hands over his clothes, watching the spill of bright light. At Conor’s snicker, he gives him a sharp look.
“Fairy dust,” Conor manages to say before he presses a hand over his mouth.
“Right,” Pawel says dryly. “I’m going to assume this is a Dreamscape thing and won’t be coming back with me to the real world.” But the magic… the way it simmers under his skin, both more powerful and less invasive than it was before… that feels like it’s a part of him now. As if he has more power and more control at the same time. Like it’s just waiting for him, rather than bursting out if he doesn’t use a careful ritual to direct it. He brings his hands up, rubbing them together lightly and pulling them apart to bring light out. He tosses the shimmering ball into the air, letting it hover over them before he creates another one to hand to Chelsea.
“What if it does?” Chelsea asks. “You could have had a secondary Emergence.”
Oh, God no. Pawel hopes not. “My mother didn’t glow,” he says firmly. “Whatever this is, whatever my body seems to have learned by coming here, will not affect my appearance in the real world.” As he says it, the glow fades.
Interestingly enough, despite the still-increased amount of sparks, Conor hasn’t changed. A problem for Pawel to work through later. He can’t imagine that Conor is untouched by the magic of the Dreamscape.
“Do you feel better?” Chelsea asks again.
Pawel tries to focus on the question, rather than the strange way he feels. Different, yes. Light. Easy. As if every bit of tension has bled out through his eyes, and oh, right, yes—crying is the best release of stress-related hormones. He remembers reading that, even remembers saying it several times when he had a student in the taekwondo club a few years back who couldn’t seem to spar without crying. It can be healthy and good to cry.
And it makes a kind of sense. “I’ve been under an unimaginable amount of pressure for the last year,” he murmurs. “I suppose I was overdue. Yes. I feel better.”
The door to the house opens, and Mattie steps out. “You seemed like you were having a moment. Done now?”
“As done as we’re going to be, I think,” Pawel says. He catches her giving him a once-over, but he refuses to address it. So what—he’s glowing. He’ll deal with the fallout if it follows him home. “Have Emma’s parents remembered their life? Is Del still with us?”
“I think we’re all ready to get back on the road,” Mattie agrees. “It took some time. They knew they were forgetting something, but couldn’t remember what. There have been a lot of tears.”
Pawel can’t say much about that one.
Emma pushes Mattie out the door, pulling her mother behind her. “Come on,” she says, calling back into the house. “I’m ready. Let’s go home.”
Conor opens his mouth, closes it. Pawel wonders if he was going to comment on her use of home, and if he’s wondering which home Emma’s referring to. He can’t ask her, not now when she’s beaming so brightly. Her father trails after her mother; Emma takes both of their hands, walking between her parents. Del skips ahead and motions for them all to follow.
“It’s going to be a bit weird,” Mattie warns them.
“That’s okay,” Caitlyn says. “We’re ready. Let’s go home.”
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 32
The Meaning of Home Chapter 32
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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Pawel thought he knew how large the community in Haverhill was, but he realizes now that he underestimated the amount of land that they own. Pawel, Colt, and Leo walk with their family, following Alaric and others through the pathways to a small set of houses that are on the edge of a field, the small river widening behind them. He can see a road not far away, and assumes they are on the fringe of Clan land, almost as if there is a small neighborhood grown up in this corner.
Either way, this is definitely part of the community. The field is as crowded as the Quad during the spring picnic, only at least a third of the attendees aren’t in human form. Bears lumber past sleeping geese. A lion lies curled with two collie puppies and a duckling, while a crow stands on his mane, grooming him. Pawel stops trying to take stock when Leo grips his elbow and whispers, “I think we’ve lost the kids.”
He doesn’t sound upset by this. And he’s absolutely correct; the children have been absorbed into the crowd.
“I think they’re safe.” Colt has his hands on his hips, surveying the crowd. “There’s plenty of food, and I don’t think anyone’s going to eat the kids. It’s been over twenty-four hours since we arrived. No one’s gotten into trouble yet.”
“Yet,” Leo murmurs, with a soft laugh. “Remember, we’ve added two more for the night with Liz and Hannah which bring us up to an even dozen, with Lucas. Although I think Mac and Drea have taken the girls under their wings.”
“Mac’s not Clan, and Drea’s not a bird,” Pawel can’t resist pointing out, even though it’s a total dad joke. “And while Corbin has wings, he’s still on small person duty, although I think Alaric’s been dragged into it as well.” Or maybe it’s just that Miranda sticks to him like glue. Every time he’s spotted Alaric along the trek here, Miranda was in his arms, or on his shoulders. The tiny Mage seems to have adopted him and refuses to let go.
Colt nudges Pawel, and Leo grabs his hand and tugs. They move as a group to a set of blankets laid out near where Mac is sprawling. She waves lazily and points, inviting them to sit, so they do.
“You know, it’s nice getting to be an adult.” Leo settles back, arms crooked behind his head as he looks up at where the setting sun turns the sky shades of red and orange. 
When Colt nudges again, Pawel obediently takes his space on the blanket between them. He can smell food, but that would require moving to get some. He doesn’t mind just resting here for the moment.
“We have our date nights, but there aren’t a lot of things we do with the kids where we can just let them go be kids for a while,” Leo continues his thought. “And this is really good for them. Especially Matt.”
There’s a soft note in his voice that Pawel can’t parse, but Colt evidently can by the way he leans past Pawel to pat Leo’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Colt says softly. “Matt isn’t going to go and get himself adopted into a Clan family. As much as he claims the Mages stink, I think he actually likes them. He’s been spending more time with Conor lately.”
“Emory likes Emma and Conor, therefore Jaiden likes them, and Matt likes to hang out with Jaiden. It’s forced proximity,” Pawel says. He shoves at Colt, who is now lying half on top of him, a hand still on Leo. “It’s too warm for that.”
“Are you saying I’m hot?” Colt smirks.
“He’s saying we’re surrounded by people and it’s still very much light out. This isn’t the time.” When Leo pushes, Colt finally falls back to lie on the blanket, leaving Pawel sandwiched between them but thankfully no longer squished.
“It’s getting dark,” Colt reminds them. 
“We’ll have fireworks then,” Pawel says. “Alaric was saying that the families that live in these houses always put on a show for the holiday.”
“Is that Theobald?” Colt pushes up on one elbow and points. Pawel follows the motion, rising as well, and he spots Alia and Valentine sitting off to the side, quietly talking. Theobald is next to them, far less daunting in human form despite the glower that seems etched into his features. As Pawel watches, Theobald’s gaze sweeps over the crowd, brow furrowing when he spots him.
“Yes,” Pawel says firmly. “That’s Theobald.” When it seems like Colt might have more questions, Pawel leans over and places a fingertip against his lips. “Save it for later. I’m not sure how good his hearing is, and while there’s a lot of background noise, maybe we should be on our best behavior right now.”
Colt nips his fingertip. “Fine, fine. He just looks like exactly what I’d imagine a Clan elder to look like.”
“And I don’t?”
Colt snorts at Leo’s question. “No, you don’t. You look like the hot Italian guy next door, which is exactly who you are.”
Leo reaches over, idly pushing Colt back with a hand over his face. “Lie down and keep Pawel company. I’m going to go make sure our crowd eats something healthy. I see Jennie by a table that looks like it has maple syrup and cotton candy.”
He’s right. Jennie has an open bottle of maple syrup in her hands and is sipping at it like it’s a juice box while watching cotton candy spin to life. As soon as she spots Leo coming closer, she tilts the bottle back and drains it; by the time he gets there, she and Alanna have disappeared.
“That’s going to be a merry game of chase,” Colt says. He’s lying where Leo left him, with an arm across his face. “And no, I don’t need to see it to predict it. I see it every day at home. She’ll eat something real eventually, don’t worry.”
“That was a lot of syrup,” Pawel says slowly. He feels like he should be able to see her now, like her sparkling should be dialed up to eleven, but he can’t find her in the crowd.
“You worry a lot about our kids.”
He can’t quite read Colt’s tone. “Are you saying ‘our kids’ as in I’m worrying too much about kids that aren’t mine, or are you saying it like I’m worrying about them because they are mine?”
“I’m saying you worry too much to keep insisting that they aren’t yours.” Colt drags him down. “And right now, Leo’s in charge and we get a break, so enjoy it.” He interlocks his fingers with Pawel’s, and slides his thumb across the back of Pawel’s hand. 
It feels good. Nice. Calming. It’s easy to just close his eyes and lean into the sensations of being and feeling, although he can’t quite let go completely. He’s waiting for Conor to run over, or Chelsea to appear. His life isn’t usually without interruptions.
A soft laugh from nearby has him opening his eyes again. Right. Mac was the one who invited him over and she looks vastly amused. “You look comfortable,” she observes.
“I am,” Colt replies. “Not moving. Neither is Pawel.”
That reminds him. “Actually….” Pawel glances down when Colt squeezes his hand. “I’m not going anywhere right now. I was just thinking that Mac hasn’t heard—we got the house.”
Colt snorts. “You said we.”
Pawel nudges him with their joined hands. “Shut up. You got the house. But I, uh….” He looks over at Mac. “There’s space for me there. I was thinking I might see if Anita wants to sublet my house on a more permanent basis. I can haul my stuff out of it, make it easier for her and the girls to make it their own. If she hasn’t found something else already; I know she was going to go house hunting in Valiant.”
“I haven’t gone over to see Pels and her mom, so I don’t know.” Mac sits up, drawing her feet in cross-legged. “So it’s this serious already.” From her expression, she knows it’s not a question.
“He’s always been endgame, he just didn’t know it,” Colt says. His arm covers his face, but Pawel can see hints of dark rose in his skin.
Mac leans forward. “So. You’re saying that you two were pining just as much as this idiot, huh? And none of you thought to send an email, or a text, and just say, ‘Hey, wanna get together sometime?’ or something?”
“Don’t help,” Pawel mutters. Mac just smiles at him, the grin growing when he tries to glare and fails. “It’ll be a commute, but I think it’ll be worth it. I’ll have to get Conor to school. We need to make arrangements for all the kids.” His gaze skates over the crowd, spotting where Alaric is apparently in his bear form, easily recognizable because of Miranda on his shoulders. 
He can hear Miranda’s shriek of delight when Alaric heaves her upwards, and she flies into the air before landing securely in his arms. Paws. Front legs. Pawel isn’t exactly sure how to describe a bear when he knows he’s actually a human.
Colt sits up at the shriek, hand tight on Pawel’s and relaxing when he spots Miranda. His gaze narrows. “Is that safe?”
Pawel nudges him, shoulder to shoulder, using his chin to indicate where Valentine sits talking to Alia, both of them watching their children. “Her mother isn’t freaking out about it, so it’s not ours to—oh. Well.” As Miranda comes down, there are suddenly three girls, and Alaric falls to the ground under the combined effort of catching them all. There are no cries, only laughter; the lion skidding to a stop on the ground nearby must be Leo. “They’re okay.”
In the dusk, Jennie’s sparkles seem brighter than ever: intense, firing all around her. She looks like a firework ready to go off, shooting up from the ground. Alaric and Leo both return to human form temporarily for a brief conversation, then Alaric is back to the bear, sweeping Jennie off her feet.
She laughs delightedly as she is tossed into the air, sparkles showering down all around her. Her clear yell of, “Do it again! Everyone can watch me sparkle!” is audible even from a distance.
“And you were worried about the maple syrup,” Colt says.
At Mac’s look, Pawel clarifies, “She was drinking it like juice. And now.” He gestures at where Jennie seems to get brighter the higher she goes, a tiny human explosion every time Alaric throws her into the air.
“She’s doing fine.” Leo drops to sit on Pawel’s other side, leaning close to kiss his cheek. Colt throws an arm over, and he and Leo clasp hands behind Pawel’s back. “I had to convince Alanna that teleporting Jennie even higher was a bad idea, and reprimanded the two of them for dive bombing Alaric. He didn’t seem to mind.”
“He’s good with kids.” Pawel wants to say he’s come so far from the angry young man who walked into his classroom almost a year ago, but he thinks that it’s more that he’s settled. This has always been who he is, and Alaric has simply relaxed into that.
He watches Jennie on the ground, racing around and drawing with sparkles in the darkening air. She shrieks delightedly as she plays some sort of game with Alanna. The sparkles might be growing dimmer; Pawel isn’t sure how she expends them. But she seems fine, with no ill-effects from the sugar intake earlier.
“It seems as if she metabolizes sugar into whatever her Talent is doing with the sparkles,” Pawel murmurs. Colt sits up, both he and Leo pressing close to Pawel’s sides. “I keep feeling as if there’s something more I should know about it—about how it works, or what it does. Whether it could do damage to her to keep inhaling sugar, or whether something more explosive could happen. But it doesn’t seem to be hurting her to consume such a high level of sugar, and she seems to have some instinctive idea what to do with it. Someday she’ll likely need to learn whether there’s a deeper ability, but for now, she seems fine.”
“You’ve been taking notes on her,” Colt says drily.
“Pawel takes notes on everything,” Mac replies. “He never stops gathering data.” She tilts her head, smile fond. “It’s saved us, yes, but it gets annoying sometimes, too.”
Leo sways into him. “She’s not a project; she’s a child. She’s our child.”
She’s our child.
Pawel exhales abruptly. “Our child.” Because yes, if he does this—if he moves in with Colt and Leo—he brings Conor, but he also gains eight foster children. He goes from being a single father with a single child, to three adults and nine children.
“Yeah. It’s serious, I can see that.” Mac pushes to her feet. “You know what, don’t worry about the kids tonight. I’ll grab your girls, and we’ll make sure they get back to the house in one piece—all of them. You guys should take advantage of the chance to steal a date night.”
“Technically our girls are still kids,” Pawel points out.
“Then I’ll get Drea, Alaric, and Corbin to help.” Mac points at him when he tries to stand. “No. Don’t move. This is relaxing time, and it is also get your head out of your ass time. I’m pretty sure Colt and Leo would be more than happy to help you do that.”
Colt snorts. “More than,” he agrees.
“But only if it’s what Pawel’s ready for,” Leo says.
Mac stares down at them. Pawel feels like he can read her mind in this moment, and heat rises to his cheeks. “Are you sure you’re fine with the kids?” he asks. “They can be a handful.”
“Conor knows me well enough to know that when I get serious, I mean it,” Mac reminds him. “If all else fails, Corbin can peck and herd them, and Alaric can roar. We’ll be fine, I swear. This is as safe a place as you’re going to get, and I promise I won’t let Theobald eat them. If he hasn’t already growled at Jennie and Alanna for being as blatantly magical as they possibly can be, I think they’ll be okay. We’re good.” Her voice softens. “Pawel. Just. Relax. Enjoy whatever this is. If you’re moving in together it’s only going to get more chaotic, not less. Enjoy having a night off and stop arguing about it.”
“Can you please make sure Matt and Jaiden don’t end up investigating the actual fireworks?” Leo asks. “They’re the two most likely to get into that kind of trouble. Especially if they’ve met anyone else who might help instigate overly curious behavior.”
“Done,” Mac agrees. She sinks down into a crouch, her eyes level with Pawel. “You are hereby off-duty. Enjoy the evening.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Pawel grins when Mac rolls her eyes. They may not be on the mats, but he knows an order from a black belt instructor when he hears one. 
She pats him on the head and rises, turning back to point at Leo, then Colt. “Be good to him,” she says solemnly. She disappears in a blink, her voice coming from somewhere in the distance shortly after that.
“I would be happy to be good to you,” Colt murmurs. Pawel feels the way Leo swats at him where their hands are both still behind his back.
“There are going to be fireworks,” Leo reminds him. Someone starts music playing, and a moment later it echoes all around them. Magically amplified, Pawel thinks. Maybe Valentine, maybe one of the other guests.
“I can help make fireworks.” Colt does the eyebrow wiggling thing, and Pawel lowers his head into his hands.
“Yes,” he says, the word muffled by his own hands. “But we are going to sit here and enjoy the fireworks first, then we can go back to the house, and see what comes next.”
Silence.
Pawel slowly lowers his hands and looks from Leo to Colt. Leo grins at him, but Colt’s mouth is slightly open, his brow furrowed. “Did you say yes?” Colt clarifies.
“Were you not listening?” Pawel shoots back. “Yes, you idiot. I said yes. Make me feel good. Show me another round of fireworks. Do whatever you’ve been thinking about every time you look like a complete dork and wiggle your eyebrows at me. Let me see what you’ve learned in the last decade.” He laughs dryly. “You can see everything I’ve forgotten. It’s been a while.”
He’s thankful that dusk has turned to dark as Colt slides his hands to cradle Pawel’s face, leaning in and kissing him. It’s quick and hard and hungry, and Colt retreats almost as fast as he begins. “More later,” Colt says cheerfully.
“You know this isn’t just a fling,” Leo murmurs. “We want to keep you.”
“I apparently have agreed to move in, so you’re going to need to figure out where to put me.” Pawel can’t decide how to feel. This is… it’s big. Too big to process all at once. His heart feels like it’s going to thud right out of his chest. He knows Leo can hear it, and when he glances at him, Leo presses a hand to Pawel’s chest as if to keep him whole.
“You don’t need a bed,” Colt says, his voice still light and happy.
“Hey.” Leo’s voice is soft, and when Pawel turns to look at him, his kiss is just as soft. “We’ll head out after the fireworks and we’ll talk. Figuring out where to put you is the easy part. We already know you belong in our lives.”
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 26
The Meaning of Home Chapter 26
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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The problem with diners is that the booths are never really comfortable. Spinner’s is decorated with a classic look, right down to the hard benches meant to seat two easily and three in a pinch. Dad’s on one side, sharing with Conor, while Pawel is squeezed between Chelsea and Mac on the other.
Chelsea fiddles with her napkin, carefully unwrapping the silverware from it. “This is the first time I’ve been able to celebrate Father’s Day with you,” she says quietly. “I’m happy to be here.”
The scratch of a crayon across a paper placemat gets slightly louder, but Conor doesn’t look up.
“I’m glad we’re all here,” Dad says firmly. Pawel tries not to make a face as Dad’s gaze shifts from Chelsea to Mac, then settles on Pawel. “Seems like I’ve got a few more kids than I knew about.”
“We can’t get rid of Mac,” Conor says to the table. “She’s like a fungus.”
“And I grew on you,” Mac finishes the phrase before he can. “Unity’s boring right now, and Pawel’s far more interesting. Besides. I just saw my dad a couple weeks ago and I can’t go back to Harlem right now, and my step-dad is on my shit list.”
“Language.” Even though Conor’s face isn’t visible, Pawel hears the smile in the admonishment.
“I’ll hold targets for you to kick later,” Mac offers in apology. “Kick me as hard as you want.”
Pawel nudges his own glass of water, looking at the ring beneath it on the tabletop. “Happy Father’s Day, Dad. You know I live to bring excitement into your life.”
Dad exhales softly. “I’m just glad you’re here. We’ve spent too many summers not getting much time together. At least something good’s come out of what you’ve been through.”
“I’ll visit more often,” Pawel promises. “But more importantly, I’ll eventually get out of your house and go home. I bet you’re looking forward to some peace and quiet.”
“Eh. Feel free to crash at Colt and Leo’s more often and we’ll be fine. I don’t need to have the place to myself every night, just once in a while.”
Pawel remembers a recent text conversation and doesn’t want any more detail from his dad than that about why he might like the place to himself. “Sure, right. I can… maybe. I don’t know.” He lifts a hand, waving to the waitress. “Can I get more coffee?”
Conor’s head comes up and he pushes his glass to the end of the table. “More chocolate milk, please.”
He gets his refill immediately, and their food arrives shortly after. It’s a little less awkward when there are plates on the table and plenty to eat. Pawel is occupied with passing syrup and stopping Conor from stealing bacon from his plate, rather than wondering if it’s weird to take your ex-girlfriend and best friend out for Father’s Day.
He’s the father, or one of them anyway. It’s his day. He should get to spend it with whoever he wants to. Not like he could stop Chelsea from showing up, anyway.
Pawel isn’t sure how Conor feels about Chelsea at this exact moment. Conor keeps glancing up, then away, like he’s trying to figure something out. Pawel had thought they were getting along all right, but this morning it seems strained and he’s not sure why.
Dad coughs. “Everything all right there, son?”
What? Oh, he’s barely touched his pancakes, and Conor managed to claim a sausage while Pawel’s mind wandered. Pawel cuts his pancakes up, then drowns them in syrup. “Everything’s fine. I’m just wondering if I should’ve taken you bowling tonight instead. Maybe you would’ve liked that better than brunch.”
“I have a delicious diner omelet on my plate, and I have my son and grandson for company,” Dad says dryly. “What’s not to like? Besides. I have plans for dinner. I thought that since you had friends in town, I might go out.”
“Oh, I—” Pawel’s phone buzzes and he pulls it out, focusing on that in order to ignore Mac asking questions that Pawel doesn’t want to hear the answers to. The group chat with Leo and Colt is lit up on his screen.
Come over for lunch, Leo sends. We’re cooking out in the backyard. Matt set up the croquet set. Believe me, you haven’t lived until you’ve played croquet with a bunch of pre-teens.
They want him there for lunch. Pawel glances at his watch and it’s already eleven. I’m actually out at Spinner’s right now with Dad and Conor. And Chelsea and Mac. I’m not sure I can eat lunch.
So? Colt replies. Come over anyway. Bring Conor. Jennie and Alanna keep saying we can’t have Father’s Day if we’re missing a kid.
Conor’s my kid, not one of your gang, Pawel reminds him. Also: croquet?
The thing with wickets and mallets and very hard balls, yes, Leo says. There’s a picture right after that of Alanna and Jennie holding mallets that are far too big for them. Pawel really wonders if that’s a good idea.
Just come over, Colt sends. Please.
Chelsea nudges his shoulder. “You should go.”
“Go where?” Mac leans to look before Pawel thinks to cover his phone. “Oh. There. They wouldn’t ask if they didn’t want you to come. I’m pretty sure it’s not about the lunch.”
Conor steals the last piece of bacon from Pawel’s plate. “Where are we going?” His words are muffled until he washes down the mouthful with the last of his milk. He wipes his hand across his mouth, then takes the napkin Dad hands him and cleans up properly.
Dad looks across at him, and Pawel realizes that Dad’s done with breakfast. So are Conor and Mac. Chelsea still has half of her large breakfast sandwich, and Pawel has… most of his pancakes. Dad clears his throat, motioning for Pawel to speak.
Pawel taps out a quick message. When we’re done here, we’ll stop by.
The response from Leo comes before he’s able to lock his phone, as if Leo had it all typed out and was just waiting for Pawel’s reply before pressing send. Chelsea and Mac are welcome to come along, of course.
Pancakes first. Pawel picks up a forkful and chews while everyone silently waits. He manages to get in another bite before Dad clears his throat again. Apparently he’s also expecting an answer to Conor’s question.
“The guys want him to come over. Apparently Jennie and Alanna think all the kids and dads should be in one place,” Mac says. She smiles when Pawel throws her a betrayed look. “It’s not a bad idea, but this is your day.” She points at Dad, ignoring Pawel. “You are the senior dad and you get to decide what you want.”
“Let’s leave the senior out of it. You make me sound old,” Dad protests.
“You’re the one living in a retirement community when you haven’t even retired,” Pawel points out. “Do you want more time with your son and grandson, or are you sick of us and want us to head to Colt and Leo’s for the rest of the day?”
Dad huffs softly. “I’m fairly certain I can entertain myself with a nice nap in front of whatever’s on the television this afternoon, and like I said, I’ll be out for the evening. Go. You’re not abandoning me.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Chelsea says, flashing a small smile. “It’ll be easier if you don’t have to fit me in a car, right?”
Pawel finishes his pancakes while everyone else figures out the arrangements. Since he drove, he has to drop Dad back off at home before he heads to Leo and Colt’s house. Chelsea slid out of the booth as soon as they were all done eating and headed out; Pawel assumes she found a shadow to travel through.
When they get to the house, the garage door is wide open. Pawel spots the large wall of filing cabinets that Nevaeh had mentioned, along with the exercise equipment off to one side, and the mats taking up most of the floor. They’re better mats than he’d expected, thick enough that Jennie’s gymnastics would be safe on them over the concrete floor. He suspects that the standing bag for kicking is new, and Duke holds up a pair of paddle targets in greeting as Pawel climbs out of the car.
“Dad, I’m going to….” Conor doesn’t finish the sentence, heading straight for the garage and checking out the equipment.
“I’ll make sure no one gets hurt.” Mac touches his shoulder on the way by, then teleports into the garage, taking the targets that Duke offers her. 
Pawel escapes before they can rope him into doing drills. He loves taekwondo, but it wasn’t one of his planned activities for the day. He can hear noise, so he makes his way down the side of the house to the backyard. He’s never been back there, and it’s far more spacious than he realized, even if it’s small by the standards of the house they looked at. Part of the yard is covered with small silver wickets, laid out in a double diamond pattern, and there are scattered small, heavy-looking, brightly colored wooden balls.
Jennie has a mallet over her shoulder, her hands gripping the handle tightly about halfway down. She chews on her lip, face screwed up with intense concentration. There’s a red ball that matches her mallet near her feet, and Pawel realizes that while there is a wicket a few feet away that she might be aiming for, there is no one standing on that side of her. Jennie makes a soft growling noise, then shouts loudly as she swings the mallet, circling down until it digs into the grass. It pushes up a divot from the yard and thwacks into the ball, sending it bumping towards the wicket.
Emory exhales loudly. “Nice shot,” they say, as the ball stops just short of the wicket.
Hands frame Pawel’s waist on either side as Leo leans into him from behind. “Alanna’s last shot went airborne and into the neighbor’s yard,” he murmurs, mouth close to Pawel’s ear. “Come stand by the grill. It’s a relatively safe space to watch from.”
“Is there anything safe about this?” The mallets and balls are obviously both made of wood, and now that it’s Emory’s turn, they take great delight in sending their blue ball halfway across the yard to smack into a green ball. Pawel isn’t sure if they’re playing the game, or just aiming for the other balls.
Given Emory’s grin as they step up and knock the other ball out of bounds, it’s the latter.
“No one’s gotten hurt yet, and they don’t play with anyone but family, so everyone knows the risks,” Colt says. He hands Pawel an open bottle of beer. “Chelsea’s inside with Nevaeh. Did you bring Mac?”
“In the garage with Duke and Conor,” Pawel responds. “I take it you wanted chaos for Father’s Day?”
Leo and Colt exchange a look. Leo grips more tightly where his fingers still rest against Pawel’s waist. “We wanted you and Conor to be here,” Leo says quietly. “The rest was up to the kids, and well, they chose burgers with a side of chaos.”
Warmth curls low in Pawel’s gut. “Ah. I know Conor’s been excited lately. All he can talk about is getting out of school.”
“Next week,” Colt says. He tilts his head back, draining what’s left of his own beer; Pawel watches his throat as he swallows. 
Pawel glances away before Colt looks at him again, but Leo’s laugh is soft in his ear. Leo is still close enough that Pawel is aware of him, of his hand at his waist and his body nearby.
“Nevaeh’s the only one who cares about school right now, and I think she’s only got one more Regents exam next week,” Leo says. “She’s ignoring it for today because she insisted she was going to make Father’s Day cupcakes. I think Chelsea’s helping her. I’m hoping they don’t destroy the kitchen.”
“Chelsea might have forgotten half of what there is about being human, but she remembers how to cook,” Pawel says. He takes the chair Leo nudges him towards, cooler as soon as he sits by himself. He’s handed a burger he doesn’t need, but eats anyway. He takes it slow, watching as the croquet game continues, such as it is. He thinks Jennie might win; she’s the only one focused on actually attempting to get her ball through the wickets and aiming for the post at the end of the course.
He slumps down in the camp chair, enjoying the chance to just relax. Leo and Colt talk over him—about time off next week when school ends, and about summer camp for the kids at the Y coming up the week after that. He tries to be alert when they start talking about houses, but their voices are a pleasant buzz in the background and his stomach is over full. He loses the war against a nap.
Pawel wakes to the press of something cold dripping on the nape of his neck. He waves a hand and hears Mac laughing, so he opens his eyes. She holds her hand with her fingers curled, water droplets forming between her fingers. “No,” he says.
She opens her fingers just long enough for him to see the ice cubes before she disappears. That doesn’t mean it’s over; Pawel’s played this game before. He pushes himself to standing, taking stock of his surroundings. Leo and Colt have left their chairs and are both at the grill, Colt putting hot dogs on while Leo pulls off burgers onto a plate. Pawel can smell corn, too, smoky and sweet, and… no. Mac. He needs to figure out where she is.
He draws his senses in, letting them play out slowly as if he’s sparring. It’s a little like a spider’s web, waiting for something to touch his magic. When he feels that soft ping, he spins, both hands out to push Mac away as she reaches for his shirt. He feels droplets of water, but she drops the ice on the ground. She leans over, hands on her knees, laughing.
“Did she get you?” Conor asks curiously. He sighs loudly when Pawel shakes his head. “We decided she had the best chance out of the three of us.” Duke stands on his other side. “But you know her tactics best, too, so maybe Duke would’ve been better.”
“I’m older and he won’t get as mad at me.” Mac straightens up, her hands on her back as she arches, stretching. “Go on. Go get food. I don’t know how you can be starving again. Maybe you’re growing. At this rate, you’ll be as tall as Rory.”
Conor’s eyes light up. “I’d be so good at taekwondo if I were as tall as Rory. Duke, he’s so tall.” Conor leaps, one hand held up. It’s not a bad approximation. “I could kick you from halfway across the ring.”
Duke holds his hand palm down, the thumb, forefinger, and pinky spread, with the middle two fingers tucked back, then waggles it, moving across his body at an angle upwards. His laugh is a soft wheeze as Conor sulks.
“Flying isn’t fair,” he grumbles. “Okay, fine, it’s fair if we’re using Talents, but if we’re doing that, I’m going to figure out how to use my magic. Okay?”
Duke nods, then touches Conor’s shoulder and points at the table near the grill which is filled with food. Pawel watches as they head off to load up plates and join the others.
“I like seeing that,” Pawel murmurs.
“So do I.” Leo hands him a plate with a short, seasoned corn cob and a chocolate cupcake with white frosting swirled on top. “Take this. I’m going back for something more substantial.”
Mac takes one of the camp chairs, where she already has a plate of food that she must have filled while Pawel was still asleep. Colt and Leo come to join them, but Chelsea sits with Nevaeh and the kids. “She’s helpful,” Leo says, when he sees where Pawel’s attention has strayed. “She wrangles them like she gets how they think. Which is definitely something we need sometimes.”
“I’m happy she’s helping out.” He thinks that she looks happy, too. “Maybe she’s finding a place to fit in.”
“Well, if you’re around, I’m assuming she’ll be around,” Colt points out. “She’s your friend. She’s Conor’s mother. It seems like you bring several people along wherever you go.”
“Are you saying I have baggage?”
“He has so much baggage,” Mac says. “It’s why we get along.” She points at Colt with her half-eaten burger, then frowns and switches the motion to point to Leo. “This reminds me. I’ve been meaning to ask: do you know the Clan community out in Haverhill? Theobald and Alia Herne are the leaders.”
“I’m aware of them,” Leo says carefully. “Why? My family never needed to be part of a larger community, and we weren’t interested in their level of traditionalism. Since we weren’t part of Clan politics, I’ve never been out there.”
“Alaric’s trying to get me to come out and spend some time there. He says his mom’s on board with it, but I’m sure Theobald’s fuming.” Mac snickers. “Which in my opinion only makes it better. They’ve been very traditional up until now, but Alaric’s working on opening them up. Anyway, Pawel was telling me about the place you folks were looking at, and if you’re planning to build your own community, it might help to see a working one.”
“I don’t want something exactly like theirs. But I do want to get enough land so we can build on it; that way any of our family who want to be near us can be,” Leo says. “But—” He cuts off, looking at Colt. “They do have one thing we don’t. Variety. I grew up in a family of cats, and we’re taking in anyone who needs a place. We currently have a lot of rodents. We might get other types of Clan as time goes on.”
“Alaric’s a unique kind of Clan; you really ought to meet him. His best friend’s a bird. His twin seems to be most sorts of mammals,” Mac says. “They’ll give you plenty of variety without even having to talk to anyone else. Maybe you could go when I do. I’m heading out there the week of the Fourth.”
“The kids don’t have camp that week because of the holiday,” Colt says slowly. “And it wouldn’t be a bad thing for those of us who haven’t been exposed to traditional Clan homes to know what it’s like. That’s the environment the Dunns came from, before Alanna Emerged.”
Mac has her phone in hand, tapping something out. “Ric’s available now, if you want me to give him a call.”
Leo’s expression is set, jaw tight. Colt gets up and takes Leo’s plate, moving it out of the way before he settles across his legs, curled against his chest. “Go ahead,” Colt says. “Call.”
“Hello, Mac.” Alaric’s voice rumbles through the phone. In the background Pawel hears more voices—they must be on speaker. He recognizes Drea, and guesses the other is likely Corbin. “You want to bring more people with you?”
“Ric!” Mac says cheerfully. “Yes. How much do you want to piss your father off? Because Pawel’s friends have eight kids, and it’s a mix of Mages and Clan, Emergent and Lineage. Plus Pawel would be bringing Conor.”
Someone cackles in the background. That’s definitely Corbin. Pawel can hear Drea trying to shush him, but the laughter continues.
“So. You. Pawel. Nine kids and two more adults?” Alaric says slowly. “I’m not sure how many rooms we’ll have. We might have to put them over in the guest wing, instead of the family wing. If we do that, they might be staying with some other folks that are thinking of coming. Like Dayton. And Aly and Devon from New Hampshire—they had their baby, and have been bringing her around to all the old communities, Mage and Clan alike. Might be tight here, so you might have to share spaces.”
Pawel thinks of the large bed in Colt and Leo’s room, and of the thunderstorm.
“Sharing spaces shouldn’t be a problem,” Colt responds. “We’ve already got nine kids in four bedrooms, and they can get closer. So can we. You can probably put the kids all in one room, then put us and Pawel in another.”
Silence.
Mac has a hand over her mouth, her phone shaking where she holds it out in her other hand. Colt takes it from her, and she turns around, both hands over her mouth.
“Alaric,” Pawel says firmly. “That was Colt Harrison. He’s an Emergent Talent, and you should be aware that he’s a non-traditional Empath. He won’t try to manipulate you with his Talent—he sees auras—but he is a lawyer, so you can expect arguments. His husband is Leo Papa, who is Clan.”
“Papa,” Alaric finally says slowly. “From Verity?”
“That’s our home town, although we’ve scattered a bit,” Leo says. His words sound calm, but his expression is stiff. “If you’re having a political Gather, then we—”
“It’s not like that.” Alaric interrupts him gruffly. “Dayton’s a friend. It’s a good time for Aly and Devon to come by, and they might be bringing one of the Mages from their community. Mac’s coming out to visit. Drea thinks Caro might come out; ’m not sure about her brother Kit. It’s just social this time.”
“Theobald’s ready to shit bricks about it!” Corbin calls from the background. “Pretty sure he blames Alaric for everything, but Alia’s had a hand in the invite list, too.”
“Oh. Right. Valentine and her kids—Miranda and Elijah—are coming, too,” Alaric says. “More Mages.”
Corbin cackles again in the background.
“Mom will make sure that Dad deals,” Drea says. “And you don’t need to worry about dealing with politics. The holiday means that it’s a good time for vacation, so we’re opening the house for the whole week. People will probably be coming and going all the time; you can be here for all or part of it, whatever you want. We’re Clan. We always have room for more people.”
Despite the pinched expression Leo’s wearing, he nods at that sentiment. “We do,” he says.
“I’ll talk to my mother,” Alaric says. “It’ll be fine. No one’s killed Mac yet, and honestly, she might be the worst person I’ve brought home other than Pawel. For different reasons. Oh, and Chris’ll be here. Mac, you staying in my room?”
“With you and Chris?” Mac snorts. “Probably not. Put me and Carolyn and Kit together. We’ll be fine.”
“Chelsea,” Pawel says.
Silence again, for just a heartbeat before Alaric makes a low noise. “She’s coming?”
“She might. There’s very little I can do to stop her,” Pawel says. “She comes through to me and Conor when she’s in the mood. She might announce herself ahead of time, or she might not.”
Alaric exhales, and Pawel can imagine his resigned expression. “Mattie does that. She comes to visit sometimes, and my folks have accepted her as much as they’re going to. She’s Clan first, after all, and not the same as she was when she… did what she did. I’m not sure they’ll ever fully forgive her, though. Dad’s had some tough moments. But your Chelsea is different. We’ll make space.”
“Thank you.” There’s silence after Pawel’s words, drawing out for several heartbeats this time before Drea breaks it.
“There’s a suite in one of the guest wings with three bedrooms and its own bathroom and a bath,” she says slowly. “That one down the end, where it has that corner right before it curls around the courtyard. That would work for Pawel and all his folks. There are plenty of spaces along that hall that we can figure out for the rest. Might get a little noisy, since it’s right above the walkway, but I think it’d be the best space.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Alaric agrees. “You just need to tell us when you’re coming in, and if there’s any special food requirements. We’re Clan, we’ve got just about everything. If there’s something you really want to see or do, too, just let us know.”
“We’ll do that,” Pawel says. He watches as Mac carefully takes the phone back from Colt. “We’ll see you in a few weeks then, Alaric.”
Mac touches the end button on the screen, and the phone goes silent. Her expression is pinched, lips pressed tight together, as she slips the phone into her pocket.
“Three rooms should work out. I can stay with Conor, then you two can have some—” Pawel cuts off as Mac touches his shoulder.
“You’ll stay with us. We’ll let the kids decide how they’re splitting up,” Colt says.
Pawel wants to argue the point, but Mac’s fingers press tightly. “What’s wrong?” he asks instead.
“I should probably make sure they know before we get there, since Theobald really does hate me. Blame me,” she mutters dryly. “For something that wasn’t even my fault.”
“Since it sounds like he’s not going to be thrilled about any of us—and Pawel in particular—you don’t need to say a word,” Colt assures her.
Mac shakes her head. “Secrets suck, and this one is kind of an open one back on campus at this point. You’ve met my dad—David Palmer. He’s my step-father, and before Mom married him, our last name was Davis. I was an elite gymnast as a kid, so yes, I’m Kenzie Davis. I’m the girl who Emerged on live television a decade ago, and became the poster child for the Emergence.” Her laugh is low and dry. “Theobald blames me for starting it, which is a fairly common assumption from older, traditional Clan. And Mages. And well, a lot of Lineage folks I’ve met. At least the ones who are angry about their lives being revealed.”
Theobald’s wrong. Mac’s Emergence was just one of many; she didn’t start it. She was just swept up in something that was already happening all over the world in much less televised ways. Her particular Emergence, however, brought Talent into the public view. It may not have been her fault, but it did change lives.
“It’s not going to be a problem here.” Leo spills Colt from his lap as he stands up. He opens his arms and Mac goes into them, shoulders relaxing as she settles into the hug. “Our house and family are open. You’re welcome with us.”
Colt glances between them, then sinks back into his own camp chair. “Sit down. This sounds like it’s going to be an interesting week, and maybe you should tell me more about what it’s like to be traditional Clan, and just how pissed off this Theobald is going to be, and why it’s a problem. I’m guessing it isn’t going to be about Leo and me being married.”
“Oh, it is,” Pawel tells him. “But less so because you’re men, and more because someone who’s Clan married an Empath.” He waits for Mac to disengage from Leo, and then again until they all settle back into their seats. “Mac. Why don’t you start?”
“Some important background that I’m sure Pawel already told you,” she says. “Alaric and Drea are twins, and they’re at PHU. Their older brother died because of a Shadowwalker, which kind of started the whole thing that ended up with us in a different world.”
Colt and Leo link hands. “We’ve heard about that,” Leo says, while Colt motions for her to go on.
“It was a lot,” Mac says, and they all nod as if it’s just another story. Maybe it is now, a piece of history that’s been forged and recorded. “Because of that, there’s been a lot of change. After Orson’s death, Alaric’s now going to lead when Theobald steps down someday. He’s already looking to forge alliances and make changes; his mother, Alia, supports that. Alaric and Alia are working hard to open the community, but Theobald… well. If he turns into a giant wolf and threatens to eat you, Alia won’t let him.”
Colt barks out a short sharp laugh as Leo smirks. “Don’t worry,” Leo says. “I bet my lion is bigger.”
Pawel exhales. The trip will be interesting in a few weeks, that’s for certain.
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welcometophu · 2 years
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The Meaning of Home: Chapter 24
The Meaning of Home Chapter 24
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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Jennie buries her face against the crook of Leo’s shoulder, holding on as he cradles her on his hip. Her sniff is loudly audible. Leo runs his fingers over her head, then reaches for keys hanging on a hook by the door. “Here,” he says as he hands them to Pawel. “You’ve got Emma, Emory, Jaiden, and Matthew along with Duke tonight. You’ll need the van.”
“No Nevaeh? She was going to—”
“I’ve got my chem Regents tomorrow,” Neveah yells from the living room, her voice tight. “I want a break later. Take me night driving. I don’t have time now. Oh fuck—”
Several voices call out in chorus, “Language!”
Nevaeh’s low growl is a good imitation of Leo. “I have three more practice tests to take and I need to write out my study sheet again because someone spilled juice all over it.”
“Was that Jennie?” Pawel asks. Jennie replies with a soft wailing whine.
“No, this was something to do with a doll and it’s a good thing you’re taking Matt for a little while,” Leo replies. “There’s a lot of energy in the house right now. The older kids have Regents exams and finals, and the little ones are all excited for the end of the school year. We could use this break.”
“I’m happy to give it to you.” Pawel whistles sharply, yelling, “Conor and everyone else going to the dojang! Out in the driveway in two minutes!”
Footsteps thunder through the house, and it’s a whirlwind of finding shoes and making sure everyone’s dressed appropriately. Duke has a crisply new uniform and a brand-new belt from the dojang tied neatly around his waist; when he spots Pawel looking at it, he touches it and grins, pride in his expression. Pawel gives him a thumbs up in return.
“You’ll need paperwork.” Leo hands over a small stack of folded pages. “Everything’s signed with permission for them to take the classes. If any of them decide to sign up, the school already has my information to invoice us. Thank you for taking them to try it out.” The door opens and all of the children rush out, yelling for Pawel to hurry. Leo watches the door bang shut. “It might be a good thing. It’s definitely a good thing for Duke.”
“You can thank his friends for that,” Pawel says. “I’m just his ride.”
“I think you being there helped, too.” Leo gets a hand on Pawel’s shoulder, then suddenly Jennie is twisted in his arms, reaching for Pawel. He catches her just in time as she transfers herself to him, snuffling and burying her face in his shoulder. 
“Uh. I need to—” Pawel tries to unhook her, but she’s holding on tight.
“Matt’s a meanie,” Jennie grumbles.
“I’ll keep him out for a little while, I promise,” Pawel says quietly. He kisses the side of her head, and she relaxes against him. “Can you go back to Leo—to Papa—now? I need to get going.”
She falls into Leo’s arms when he reaches for her, but her gaze is still on Pawel, watchful, with her brow furrowed. Pawel waits for just a moment, but whatever she’s thinking remains unsaid. “I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” he says. He folds the papers one more time, then shoves them into his back pocket. He should hit the road ASAP because he still has to change when he gets to the school.
Thankfully the kids have sorted themselves into seats in the minivan, with Duke claiming the front passenger seat. The ride is loud, everyone talking over each other, while Duke ignores them and fiddles with the radio instead. As long as no one’s killing each other, Pawel decides it’s best to just let them be and focus on driving safely.
He herds them into the dojang. “Duke, Conor—help them with their shoes and show them where to go,” he instructs. “I need to go get changed before we can—”
“Pawel.”
He stops with one shoe half off, his hip leaning against the wall to brace himself, and looks up. “Mac? What the hell?”
She spreads her hands wide. “Surprise!” Her dark hair is pulled up on top of her head, a thick pouf above the hair tie. Her leggings are cropped, and her I kick to stay sane PHU taekwondo t-shirt is tied with a knot at the waist. Her shoes are already off, and she bounces lightly on her toes like she’s ready to kick. “I’ve been chatting with Bill while I was waiting for you to get here. I didn’t expect you to bring an entire class’s worth of kids with you.”
Bill points to each child, obviously counting them. “Neither did I. I’m thinking it might be better to separate you from the main class tonight, if that’s okay with you. I can send Beth with you into the practice room, while Blake helps me with class. That way you can get a good introductory session in and really focus on the new kids. Duke, Conor, you two can either come with me or go with Pawel.”
Conor looks at Emma. “I’m staying with Emma. Besides. It’s kind of cool to watch Dad and Mac spar.”
Apparently Pawel is going to be sparring tonight.
Duke points towards the practice room, then starts touching shoulders to get attention and herding Matt, Jaiden, and Emory in that direction. He lifts one hand and waves before following after them.
“If you need Beth, Mac and I will be fine,” Pawel tells Bill. “On the other hand, if you need to send her with us for liability reasons, I’ll understand that, too.”
“That’d be it.” Bill holds out his hand, and Pawel pulls out the paperwork, smoothing it carefully before handing it over. “Thank you for this. I hope the kids enjoy kicking, and it’d be great to see them again later if they’re interested. It’s okay if you run over time. I’ll tell Beth to take as long as you need. Go get changed and catch up with your kids.”
“Right.” Pawel starts to pass Mac, but she reels him in, yanking him down for a hug. He pats her back. “I missed you, too,” he admits. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t here because you want to kick, but more because you really want to meet my exes?”
“Would I do that?” She laughs before she can finish speaking. “Yes, yes, I would. I promised to send Carolyn pictures, too. I’m just glad to see that you don’t have bags under your eyes anymore. I was worried about you.” She pats his cheek lightly. “Sometimes you just try too hard. I’m going to enjoy tonight. How many kids do you have with you?”
“Six. Out of nine,” he admits. “Colt keeps trying to claim Conor as part of their family. I’m driving a minivan tonight because I couldn’t fit them all in my car. I think Colt and Leo are really hoping I bring them back too exhausted for whatever shenanigans they were up to when I picked them up.”
“We’ll try our best. Go get changed.” Mac disappears as soon as she says that, and Pawel hopes she knows where she’s going. Also, he really needs to introduce her to Alanna.
By the time he makes it to the smaller practice room, Beth is lining the kids up on the floor. Duke heads the line, with Conor next to him and the other four across the floor after that. She has them bow to the Korean and American flags on the wall, then to herself as the instructor, then one more time to Mac and Pawel.
Pawel motions for Mac to join him on the floor, bowing before he steps onto the mats. They join the warm up, Beth calling for jumping jacks, push-ups, and sit-ups. After that, they line up at one end of the floor and race back and forth, switching between different techniques to loosen up, all while teaching the kids to yell with a loud, “Kihap!” when they start. At least they don’t have to worry about anyone in this crowd being quiet, other than Duke.
They split into two groups after that, and Pawel and Mac each grab a pair of paddle targets for line drills. Duke is in one line with Jaiden and Matt, while Conor has Emma and Emory in his line. Beth explains each kick, and has Conor and Duke demonstrate before the others try the kicks in turn.
Pawel is proud of how both Conor and Duke take the time to help the others. Conor does it verbally, congratulating Emory and Emma on good kicks, and offering suggestions how they can do better. Duke reaches out, touching Matt’s shoulder and showing him how he needs to turn his hips over, or how he needs to snap his foot out. Matt’s gaze never leaves Duke, eyes wide and slightly awestruck.
“Everybody get a drink,” Beth calls out. As the kids grab water bottles and chat at the sides, she joins Mac and Pawel. “Not bad, not bad,” she says. “It’s nice to see Conor helping out, and it seems like Duke really fits in here. I’m glad he’s started. So.” She looks at Pawel. “I was thinking of having the boys show a few more difficult techniques. The other kids might not have as easy a time with them, but it’s always fun to try something that’s a little more complicated. And it’s definitely never too early to start learning combinations, or some of the harder kicks. Did you want them to try breaking boards tonight?”
Pawel can only imagine Matt and Jaiden trying to find more boards to break at home. “I think we can wait on that. Let’s see if they want to come back. Right now I’m just hoping they don’t turn their playroom at home into a sparring ring.”
He spares a brief thought for that house they looked at over the weekend. They never did go into the garage that was converted into a gym. He wonders just how good it might be for practicing taekwondo.
Which is really not a thought he should be having. Even if Colt and Leo buy it, it’s not his house.
“Then let’s set up for the more interesting kicks and combos.” Beth takes the paddle targets from Pawel and motions for Mac to hang hers back on the wall. “You two get in line with the kids. Let’s have some fun here.”
Beth calls Conor to the front, and he answers with a loud, “Yes, Ma’am!” When she directs, he gets into ready position with his right foot back and a loud yell. She holds out the target, and at her kihap, he does a roundhouse then spins into another roundhouse kick. Beth has him reset, then he does exactly the same thing, except this time he jumps as he spins and kicks out for the second roundhouse.
When she calls Duke up, he’s silent, but no less serious. His jump spin roundhouse is smoother than Conor’s, more practiced and at ease. For fun, Beth backs up across the floor, and Duke chases her with spinning jumping roundhouses, each as steady as the last.
“We’re going to do that?” Matt asks.
“You’re going to try, but you’re going to stay on the ground for now,” Beth replies. “Stick around, and we’ll have you flying just like Duke.”
“No one flies like Duke,” Emma says. “Because he actually flies.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” Mac nudges Duke with her elbow. “I think you and I ought to spar. You fly and I teleport. It’ll be fun.”
Duke flashes a bright, sudden grin as he nods. Pawel thinks this might get interesting.
Pawel calls Mac and Duke off to the side, and all three of them gear up while the others continue to work through drills. As soon as he realizes that they’re getting ready to spar, Conor makes his way over and sits on the floor, carefully pulling on his own protective gear.
“Who do you think you’re going to spar?” Mac teases, nudging Conor.
“You,” he says plainly. “Duke. Or they can kick me if they want to know what it feels like.” He points at the others, who’ve stopped kicking and are now watching. “You gonna spar Dad?”
“Sure, we can start with that.” Mac grabs Pawel’s hand, and they both move to the center of the floor, while Beth gathers the rest of the kids off to the side. By the time Pawel has his helmet on and mouth guard in, Beth has joined them and is pointing to their spots in the ring to get ready.
Pawel bows to Mac and shakes hands, then shouts loudly as he gets into ready position. This is comfortable and familiar, and he’s surprised just how much he’s looking forward to it. It feels like they’ve hardly gotten to really enjoy taekwondo this last year.
“Talent or no?” Mac asks.
“Go for it.” Pawel never uses his magic in a match. He’s just not that quick with it. But it’s almost like a different kind of sight when he spars knowing that the other person is using Talent. He misses physical cues if he turns inward during a normal match, but letting himself sink into this fugue with Mac gives him insight to when she’s going to suddenly disappear.
She keeps him moving, there one moment and disappearing the next. He gets a hand up when she comes in high, adding teleportation to a jump axe that will hit him on the top of his head, if he doesn’t block. As he pushes her back, she laughs and pops away. When she comes in next, he’s ready with a jump spin back kick, landing solidly in her mid-section; she twists in mid-air and her foot connects with his shoulder instead of his head as he keeps spinning. Still hurts.
The kids are yelling, but Pawel can’t listen to the words. Mac stays in close instead of teleporting away, and it lets her land an extra kick to the back of his head because he thinks she’s going to move and doesn’t protect himself. When he tries to counter, she does disappear and he overbalances, landing on his ass on the mat. He bounces up and she bumps his fist before they start circling each other.
He dimly registers Beth calling out, “Ten seconds!” Pawel takes that as a signal to chase Mac down, spinning when she teleports, trading flurries of kicks before Beth calls out, “Time!”
He’s breathing hard when he bows again and shakes Mac’s hand. She pulls him in and they knock helmets as she slaps his back and he hugs her in return.
“Duke and Conor, you’re up,” Beth says. As the boys walk out, Duke watches Mac retreat.
She raises a hand, pointing at him. “No rest for you,” Mac says. “I’m fighting you next, and yes, just like that. Use your Talent. Let’s have some fun.”
Conor may have grown, but Duke is still several inches taller and has a clear advantage. Their match is fairly standard, with Conor trying to stay in close, while Duke uses side kicks and push kicks to keep his distance. Duke taps Conor on the side of the head twice with light kicks; he’s surprised when Conor gets into the clinch and brings his foot up behind Duke to just barely touch the back of his head. Conor crows loudly at that, not even minding when Duke responds with a roundhouse that clearly knocks the air out of Conor.
In the end, Duke is definitely better than Conor, but Pawel has a feeling that if they continue to train together, Duke will only encourage Conor to improve. That kind of adversarial encouragement is something Conor needs in his taekwondo life.
“One minute to rest,” Beth says, and Duke nods, inhaling slowly through his nose and exhaling through his mouth as he controls his breathing. Mac steps up and leans in to speak quietly to Duke as Beth asks, “You want to ref this one?” She motions for Pawel to come to the ring.
He drops his helmet near his gear. “Sure. Everyone should stay to the edges. This isn’t going to be a regulation match staying within the ring.”
“I might have noticed that from your bout with Mac,” Beth says dryly. She joins the kids at the side of the mat. Pawel thinks she might be discussing what they’ve already seen, but he can’t hear her from this distance.
He turns his focus to Duke and Mac. Both of them have their helmets on and mouth guards in, and seem ready to go. He points to their spots on the mat, and they take their places, standing at attention. “Talent is allowed,” he says quietly. “You don’t need to stay in the ring, but watch out for spectators. Other than that, regular rules apply. You can only push with both hands when kicking. You have to land kicks in regulation places. You can give yourself a height boost, but please, no death from above flying dive bomb attacks.”
Duke snorts, and Mac places a hand over her heart as if to express complete innocence. 
“Bow and shake hands please.” Pawel waits as they do so, then calls for ready. Mac yells and Duke just stares at her intensely, a small smile lifting his lips. “Mac, remember he’s not one of our team, please. And… begin!” He gets out of the way quickly as Mac goes in for the first attack and lands a quick roundhouse on Duke’s shoulder before he’s just… not there.
It’s not like any fight he’s coached, or reffed, before. He’s never had a telekinetic who was purely a flier, which seems to be Duke’s primary Talent. The two of them quickly take to the entire floor, the kids yelling encouragement from the sidelines. It’s a merry game of attack and retreat, both Mac and Duke quick with both their kicks and their Talents. Pawel is enthralled by their constant motion and yet manages to stay alert enough to ensure nothing gets out of hand. He calls out suggestions: for Mac to guard her head, and for Duke to remember to check behind when Mac disappears. But for the most part he just lets them go, enjoying as they develop a rhythm in their fight.
Beth coughs loudly, and Pawel realizes that he hasn’t been tracking time at all. “Ten seconds!” he calls. The kids start counting down loudly from the sidelines, and the match ends with both Duke and Mac obviously winded, standing across from each other. 
As soon as they bow, Mac hauls Duke in and hugs him. His eyes go wide in surprise, his dark cheeks flushed from exertion and embarrassment. Duke manages to pat Mac on the head, then wiggles loose just before he’s surrounded by his foster siblings all intent on telling him just how incredible that was.
“Gear off, then join me in the ring!” Beth orders. “We’re going to end with a few games.” She casts a glance at Mac and Pawel. “You two rest. I just need the kids.”
Pawel leans back against the wall so he can watch at the same time as he works to pack up his own gear, and the gear that Conor just dropped before racing back to the floor. Normally Pawel would make him take accountability, but he can forgive his enthusiasm this time. Duke does pack his own gear, flying back to join the group and landing as Beth is explaining the rules.
“So,” Mac says. “Dad for the day isn’t a bad look on you. Think any of them will sign up?”
“Duke’s already a part of the dojang. Newly joined. I don’t think Leo and Colt even knew he did taekwondo before a friend brought him over,” Pawel explains. “I’m guessing the others might try it out. I think it’d be good for Matt and Jaiden—they could use an outlet. Emma sticks to Conor like glue, so they’d enjoy sharing this. And I think this might be a good thing for Emory, if they like it. It’s one of those rare sports that doesn’t really care about gender that much.”
“Well, if you bring them again—all of them, or any of them—I’d be happy to help out. I talked to Bill before you got here, and I’ll probably come out to kick some more now that I’m back for the summer.” She wraps her arms around her bent legs and looks over at him. “After all, you’re not around to run classes this summer. I’ll just have to follow you home.” It’s not a question, but her voice lilts up like she isn’t sure of her welcome.
“I’ll be glad to have you here. There’s a teen class on Thursdays, and it won’t be quite this chaotic. Duke’s the only teen in this group.” Pawel points to the kids as he names them. “Emma’s the same age as Conor. Jaiden, Matt, and Emory are all eleven and twelve. It’s very chaotic at home, where there are also two little ones—four and five—and a seventeen-year-old.”
“I’d like to meet them.”
“Maybe I should give them some warning first.” Pawel laughs when Mac lightly punches his shoulder. “I think you’ll like them. All of them. It’s been… Chelsea’s been hanging around, too. I think Nevaeh will latch on to you—she seems to like having other adult women around. You can come over after the teen class, okay? I’ll let them know.”
“How are things going with them?” Mac asks. “The whole dinner thing. You sounded anxious.”
Pawel exhales in a rush. “Well. They, uh… it’s… complicated. And confusing. And I am not sure exactly what’s going on. I went with them last weekend to go look at a new place they’re thinking of buying, which is a lot closer to Unity. So we’ll be able to visit more often.”
“Uh-huh,” Mac says. She pokes his ankle with her toe. “Complicated how?”
“They want to take care of me.” Pawel can feel the heat in his face when Mac snickers loudly. She claps a hand over her own mouth, but her eyes are still lit with humor. “Please don’t. I’m still trying to figure this out.”
“Let them take care of you. Whatever that actually means,” she advises. “It’s been a long time, Pawel, and you’ve told me about these guys. Is it complicated because of Chelsea?”
“God, no.” He laughs before he thinks about it. “Chelsea and I aren’t—we weren’t, not even then. I just… they have eight kids. They have this whole life together. I don’t want to come between them.”
“What do they say to that?”
“They invited me to look at a house which has a smaller house on the property, and one of the youngest kids promptly decided that’s where I’m staying when I visit.” Pawel’s smiles ruefully. “I feel a little like I’m on a rollercoaster.”
“Then enjoy the ride.” She leans closer. “How big is this property, anyway? Two houses? Sounds like they’re thinking of starting a commune.”
“Maybe they are. Leo’s Clan, and more space means more room to build, and more places for people to stay.” It occurs to Pawel that another small house might mean Chelsea had a place… or she could take the cottage if he were staying… okay, he needs to stop thinking that before he rearranges other people’s lives with himself in the middle of it all. “I told them they should talk to Rory’s folks, or Alaric’s.”
“Ric’d probably be okay if you all wanted to visit, well, depending on how his dad is about it.” Mac pauses. “How many of them are Clan?”
“Over half? Not quite half,” Pawel amends. “Four rodent children, one adult cat. And one of the Clan children is also magical. But I think it’d be good for them to walk around a larger community before they start building their own. Oh—”
“Oh?”
“I should talk to Valentine. I know her counterpart was skilled in warding. I don’t know if she is, or how much work she’s done either in Burlington, or with forging that alliance with Haverhill,” Pawel muses. “But if Leo and Colt are planning on a community, they should have some sort of warding. It’s a lot of acreage. It’s not something I ever really experimented with, nor do I have rituals for it, although I’m sure there’s something in the library. I could dig into that if I go back to Unity and—” He stops when Mac touches his knee.
She looks at him, looking as if she has something to say but isn’t managing to say it. The words come slowly, a smile behind them. “I’m really looking forward to meeting Leo and Colt and the rest of their family.”
He’s positive there’s a message behind that, more than the words themselves. “Thursday,” he promises. “Come back on Thursday, and I’ll take you over after class.”
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