[Ch09] ~ Brisa & Jesse
New
- Pronoun
- they or she
Home sure didn't feel the same. 'Course, it hadn't been home for a number of years now, but still, he'd not been expecting all these... renovations. He didn't recall giving anyone but his daughter permission to stay under this roof, but it sure smlled of someone other than her, and he'd bet a good dollar that it weren't Brisa who'd cleaned up the place, swept away the dust and webs. Nor would Brisa have been the one to plant a little garden of herbs and vegetables round the front. His kid had many interests, but a green paw she was not. If that didn't cinch it, the hammock in the main living area surely did.
He ignored that thing and trudged upstairs to the master room. He'd slept in sleeping sacks, in barn lofts, motels, alleyways, a goddamn cell in the ground – it felt almost like a fake concept to come home to a bed of his own. There'd been a time he'd have fussed over it still being his and hers, but he was too tired for that.
Sleep came easily. Dreams not so much. Fitful and fierce, something hazy about fire doused in ice-water and damp earth.
He woke halfway through the morning, thought it strange he'd slept so late, then realised it was stranger he'd woken up any kind of time at all given the profound addlement of his miserable brain. It's not as if he had any appointments to make, or errands to run. Still, he needed something to occupy his time while he waited on the breeze to come home – he found himself wandering automatically to his study, where half his projects from before he set out were still as he'd left them. Stale intelligence on outlaws, a wand design he'd lost interest in, a daily planner years out of date, and so on.
He sat down and drummed his digits on his desk for a good minute, his eyes glazing over his abandoned work, settling on nothing. He wanted something he couldn't find in this ancient dust. There was a ghost in here with him, the ghost of a sheriff, and its cold touch was enough to make him stand, seize a pile of his forgotten things, throw open his door and hurl them onto the dirt path.
By the time Brisa arrived, he'd made a fierce little bonfire of waste paper and wasted years.
He looked up at her.
"Always took it as given that I'd be the one comin' home to you," he said, not even bothering to reach for pride or shame. He didn't rightly know how 'Jesse Stranger' ought to feel right now. The ghost of the sheriff would be looking at his successor right now, seeing the clanner warrior in her, and the law 'mon he'd taught. The Delphox standing at his door just saw his kid, grown bigger now than he was. His kid, safe and well.
"Took a lotta things as givens," said Brisa Escarpa, carefully. "Though I got reason t'think maybe they ain't. I'm the one wearin' a badge now, fer starters."
Jesse's mouth broke into a wavering smile, the whole of him crumbling behind his tired face.
"Yeah. You are. And I— I'm goddamn proud of you, kid."
Home sure didn't feel the same. Not like she'd left it, nor like before. Some of it was that she was twice her old size, and everyplace felt different in the body of a Luxray, but there had to be some accounting for her pa behaving like another 'mon entirely. She'd had enough fake arguments in her head with the Jesse Stranger she remembered that she plain didn't recognise that fox anywhere here. When had that guy ever looked like he was 'bout to shed a tear or several over her without it bein' from sheer frustration? And outta pride no less? She could scarce remember a day since she was a Shinx cub that he'd been happy to be her father, nor even happy to be him.
But here he was, sitting on the porch with her, talking. They were a few branches deep, and she was hardly following the actual conversation for want of attention, hers being wholly focused on the quiet calm in his voice, the brittle way he held himself, the warmth that radiated from his fur she'd never rightly noticed before.
There was a pause, and the sound of breath and wind. Hesitant, apprehensive despite it all, she gave voice to the question she'd carried up the hill road back home.
"I won't be stayin'. I'm set on trackin' down Starr, and bringin' her back with me. I don't know if you have any earthly idea how to go about that task, nor inclination to bend yerself to it alongside me, but—"
"I'll help."
"'Yer pardon?"
Jesse looked at her, and for once, it felt like he saw her, and not some feral animal.
"Consider me at your service, kid. Come hell or high water."
He broke with her gaze to gesture with a nod down the hillside.
"Looks like you've got some friends as might say the same."
Brisa looked down after him to see a certain few Wayfarers all on their way.
She smiled to herself. She'd be damned. Coming right to her was a dream made real.
He ignored that thing and trudged upstairs to the master room. He'd slept in sleeping sacks, in barn lofts, motels, alleyways, a goddamn cell in the ground – it felt almost like a fake concept to come home to a bed of his own. There'd been a time he'd have fussed over it still being his and hers, but he was too tired for that.
Sleep came easily. Dreams not so much. Fitful and fierce, something hazy about fire doused in ice-water and damp earth.
He woke halfway through the morning, thought it strange he'd slept so late, then realised it was stranger he'd woken up any kind of time at all given the profound addlement of his miserable brain. It's not as if he had any appointments to make, or errands to run. Still, he needed something to occupy his time while he waited on the breeze to come home – he found himself wandering automatically to his study, where half his projects from before he set out were still as he'd left them. Stale intelligence on outlaws, a wand design he'd lost interest in, a daily planner years out of date, and so on.
He sat down and drummed his digits on his desk for a good minute, his eyes glazing over his abandoned work, settling on nothing. He wanted something he couldn't find in this ancient dust. There was a ghost in here with him, the ghost of a sheriff, and its cold touch was enough to make him stand, seize a pile of his forgotten things, throw open his door and hurl them onto the dirt path.
By the time Brisa arrived, he'd made a fierce little bonfire of waste paper and wasted years.
He looked up at her.
"Always took it as given that I'd be the one comin' home to you," he said, not even bothering to reach for pride or shame. He didn't rightly know how 'Jesse Stranger' ought to feel right now. The ghost of the sheriff would be looking at his successor right now, seeing the clanner warrior in her, and the law 'mon he'd taught. The Delphox standing at his door just saw his kid, grown bigger now than he was. His kid, safe and well.
"Took a lotta things as givens," said Brisa Escarpa, carefully. "Though I got reason t'think maybe they ain't. I'm the one wearin' a badge now, fer starters."
Jesse's mouth broke into a wavering smile, the whole of him crumbling behind his tired face.
"Yeah. You are. And I— I'm goddamn proud of you, kid."
Home sure didn't feel the same. Not like she'd left it, nor like before. Some of it was that she was twice her old size, and everyplace felt different in the body of a Luxray, but there had to be some accounting for her pa behaving like another 'mon entirely. She'd had enough fake arguments in her head with the Jesse Stranger she remembered that she plain didn't recognise that fox anywhere here. When had that guy ever looked like he was 'bout to shed a tear or several over her without it bein' from sheer frustration? And outta pride no less? She could scarce remember a day since she was a Shinx cub that he'd been happy to be her father, nor even happy to be him.
But here he was, sitting on the porch with her, talking. They were a few branches deep, and she was hardly following the actual conversation for want of attention, hers being wholly focused on the quiet calm in his voice, the brittle way he held himself, the warmth that radiated from his fur she'd never rightly noticed before.
There was a pause, and the sound of breath and wind. Hesitant, apprehensive despite it all, she gave voice to the question she'd carried up the hill road back home.
"I won't be stayin'. I'm set on trackin' down Starr, and bringin' her back with me. I don't know if you have any earthly idea how to go about that task, nor inclination to bend yerself to it alongside me, but—"
"I'll help."
"'Yer pardon?"
Jesse looked at her, and for once, it felt like he saw her, and not some feral animal.
"Consider me at your service, kid. Come hell or high water."
He broke with her gaze to gesture with a nod down the hillside.
"Looks like you've got some friends as might say the same."
Brisa looked down after him to see a certain few Wayfarers all on their way.
She smiled to herself. She'd be damned. Coming right to her was a dream made real.
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