the quiet tragedy of verin being the one who never quite made it out.
for most of their lives, essek was the one who was entrenched in expectations, in the politics of their den. while verin was stationed far from the heart of the dynasty, ostensibly free from the eyes of his elders, essek was sitting beside their mother in court and speaking before the queen. and it made sense, because essek had always been better at all of it — the posturing, the sweet-talking, the ladder-climbing. his brother the black sleep was still his brother the prodigy; his brother the heretic was still his brother the shadowhand.
but then, essek meets new people and they get through to him and change him and make him softer, make him better (and why them? what is it about them, that they could do what verin never could?) and he runs. he gives up the title and the status and the power and leaves it all (leaves verin) behind.
suddenly, verin is the lone newsoul of den thelyss, the one with all eyes on him, with the expectations meant for two brothers falling squarely on his shoulders and only his in the absence of their other target. he is still the youngest of his den, the one they all watch and wait to be disappointed by, but there is no one to share that burden with anymore and all at once it becomes painfully clear that distance never really was freedom.
essek has a family, then — not a den but a family, with love and trust and care and warmth and all the things essek once called verin childish for craving — and a welcoming home to go to with someone who loves him waiting there and a garden in the front yard, and verin is left still fighting demons under the banner of a god (of a family, of a home) he only half-believes in.
and maybe they see each other more often then. maybe bazzoxan is remote enough that it’s safe for essek to visit in disguise. maybe essek’s friends come too and are kind enough to offer a taste of what essek has now and verin can almost believe it’s his too. maybe essek doesn’t even fight it anymore when verin insists on hugging him. but how much can that really fix? how much can it really change?
an unloved man leaves no one behind when he finally makes a better life for himself, but essek was never an unloved man. not really.
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If I Should Stay
A few quick housekeeping things! First: a friendly reminder that my taglists are CLOSED! If you’re new (or if you’ve been her the whole time and just got here too late for the taglists), you can subscribe to the “#if I should stay” tag and follow along that way! I do my very best to post every 4 days. Secondly, if you’d like to see every part of this in one place, the ellipses below now links to the second part of the fic taglist! I’ve gone back and edited all previous parts so now everything should have a link imbedded in the ellipses. Unfortunately, if you reblogged an older version of a part, you won’t have the link in the ellipses. If you read all this, kudos! Now onto the story.
Part 1 | . . . | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30
They get to school and rush in just before the bell. Steve catches Eddie’s eye and blushes before he ducks his head, sliding into a seat and pulling a notebook out from his backpack.
He finds it more difficult than normal to focus, but he does his best, breathing a sigh of relief when the bell finally rings.
“Hey, Eds,” he murmurs as they walk out of class.
“Eds,” he parrots, something in his gaze that Steve can’t quite parse out.
Steve blinks, frowning slightly. “Do you not want me to call you that? ‘Cause I can-”
“No,” Eddie says. “No, it’s fine, just… new.” A light flush paints his cheeks. “I like it.”
“I’m glad,” Steve says, smiling softly.
“Steve,” someone calls from down the hallway, and Steve hides his wince when he turns to see Tommy heading his direction.
He sees the moment Tommy notices who’s with him; sees the moment his face changes. “The freak bothering you, man?” He asks, getting between Steve and Eddie.
“No,” Steve says, maybe too sharply for the way Tommy looks back at him, confused. He takes a breath, tries again. “We’re fine.” He looks at Eddie, wants to say so much, but sees him subtly shake his head.
He takes another breath. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” He asks Eddie instead. “For, uh, the project?”
“Project?” Tommy looks between the two of them, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, for Mrs. Click’s class,” Eddie says smoothly. “She hasn’t assigned it for you yet?”
Tommy looks to Steve, trying to confirm, and Steve nods. “She just assigned it, a two-page paper about the person she pairs you up with. She’ll probably stagger it, though, so you probably won’t get it for another week still.”
Only half a lie; that had been an assignment, and she had assigned it roughly a week later, but he and Eddie hadn’t gotten it yet.
Behind Tommy’s back, Eddie winks at Steve and walks away.
Steve moves to walk to his locker, Tommy following close behind. “Man, it sucks that you got stuck working with that freak,” he says sympathetically, shaking his head.
“Nah, man, Eddie’s cool,” Steve says, forcing the cheer to stay in his voice.
Tommy snorts. “What, that fag?”
“Stop it, man,” Steve says, a note of warning in his voice.
“Don’t tell me you’re sticking up for him,” Tommy sneers.
“Y’know what?” Steve says, stopping short in the hallway. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m tired of being an asshole like you, like my dad. Maybe I want to meet people and have them like me for me, not for what I can do for them, or for the money or the big house.” He shakes his head. “Stay the same if you want, change if you want, but I’m done.”
Tommy grabs his arm, and Steve yanks it away, glaring at Tommy. “Don’t do that,” he says. “And leave Eddie alone.”
“Or what?” Tommy says, grabbing at Steve’s arm again.
Steve intercepts, grabbing his wrist, giving a warning squeeze. “You really don’t want to find out,” he mutters, dropping Tommy’s wrist and walking away before Tommy can get a word in edgewise.
Robin brushes past him on his way to his locker. “Proud of you, dingus,” she murmurs, and he does his best to hide the smile that brings to his face.
Carol’s waiting by his locker, popping her gum obnoxiously. “So,” she said. “Heard you were a bitch to Tommy.”
“Takes one to know one,” Steve replies. “If you’re here to convince me to stay an asshole, feel free to leave whenever you want.”
She shrugs. “Tommy can also be a bitch sometimes,” she agrees. “But the Hagan name holds almost as much power as the Harrington family.”
Steve offers her a crooked smile. “There’s more important things in the world than names.”
“Maybe,” she shrugs, unconcerned. “You know he’s majorly pissed at you.”
“Yeah,” Steve says. “I don’t really care.”
“I didn’t expect you to. Just thought you should know. He’s gonna try to get back at you.”
Steve snorts. “He’s welcome to try.”
“Alright.” Carol shrugs again, gently nudges his shoulder with her fist. “See you around?”
“Maybe,” he agrees, looking at her. “What do you see in him?”
She sighs, looks down the hallway. “I think once upon a time I saw who he could be.”
“And now?”
“I’m afraid of who I’ll be if I leave him.”
Steve offers her a commiserating smile. “You’ll be yourself,” he says. “But it can definitely be scary.”
She grins, sharp, pulling her mask back on. “Damn, Steve, when did you get smart?”
He smirks at her as he shoulders his backpack. “It’s not that. It’s that I finally care enough to say something.”
With that, he walks off to his next class, mentally thinking about his schedule and holding in a groan. Chemistry. He hated chemistry, the first time, and something tells him he’s going to hate it just as much this time around.
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