Kings of the Moonlight

Into the Wild

Step out into the wild, there's a beautiful storm in your eyes.

-

Sunday morning begins, for Derek, with the spread of warmth from little fingers splayed out on his cheek. He's lying on his side, his sheets in a tangle all around him and he can sense the sheer earliness of the morning just going by the brightness against his eyelids. A cool breeze flutters against the skin exposed beneath his tank top as Isaac huffs his way beneath the covers.

"Dad?" he hears him whispering, as he rubs the palm of his hand against Derek's stubble in a waking pressure. "Daddy, are you sleeping?"

"It's too early, Isaac," Derek groans, he snakes an arm around the small body of his son and pulls him into a warm, sleepy embrace.

He can hear Isaac's breathless giggles as he situates himself more comfortably against his father. He tucks his head against Derek's collarbone but then he doesn't stop wiggling around - like a never ending bundle of extraneous energy made solely to prevent Derek from returning to the blissful land of sleep and silence.

Derek finally cracks one eye open to peer at Isaac, he's tucked in safely between Derek's arms with his face barely two inches from Derek's, watching him intently. Derek blinks, looks at him properly and tries to insert as much vexation as he can into his gaze but then Isaac smiles a brilliant, blinding grin and Derek just liquefies.

The feeling oozes out of him in radiating waves of love and affection and he can do nothing but just stupidly grin back at his son.

He misses moments like this, when Isaac would just crawl all over his parents' bed with some demand or other for the weekend. It hasn't happened in a long time, and truth be told it feels a little strange not having Kate's golden hair spilling all over the pillow, eyes hazy with sleep whilst lying on the other side, Isaac nestled between them.

On her good days, rare though they were, when Isaac was barely two years old, Kate would sling her arm over his body to thread her fingers through Derek's, her other hand would gently card through Isaac's tumble of curls as the murmurs of meaningless conversation churned around them, like ink swirling carelessly in the ocean, until they'd quietly fall back into sleep.

Derek would sigh and hum contentedly, cherishing those few precious moments because these were the moments where he could almost forget everything. Between the quiet companionship and the warm feeling of family and affection, his Kate would appear: the one he fell in love with.

He always knew that the moment wouldn't last and that at some point, inevitably, those blissful minutes spent in love and comfort would shatter, like crystalline hearts and he'd be left yearning for someone that never was.

But in those minutes, those easy minutes, he could pretend that he was still in love with the woman he fell for.

It hadn't been like that for a long time now, in the last two years of their lives weekend cuddles were exclusively a father and son event. There were no more sweet caresses and easy smiles between them and Kate. Instead, Isaac would curl up against Derek's warmth and Kate would lie opposite them, always watching, as if she wanted to touch, to connect, but never quite daring to.

Lately they hadn't even had that.

Kate was always aloof, always angry and Derek just didn't understand why. He has obsessively replayed every single aspect of their relationship, second guessed every single choice he'd made - and the ache of it just attacks him without respite.

The guilt eats away at him and he wonders, can't stop wondering, about things that just tear his soul to pieces.

How long had Kate been hurting Isaac? When was the first time? How scared must Isaac have been? How betrayed must he have felt? How many times had Derek come home and carried on regardless, dismissing all the signs and ignoring his son's hurt?