Boy of Light and Dust

Dayin

He couldn't stop thinking about what Ica had asked him, even as he tried to focus on raising and lowering his shields. He only yelled? Dayin had pushed back the memories when his father had lost his temper with him, didn't want to think about them. But couldn't stop.

And it finally became too much. "I have to stop," he said quietly as he looked up at Ica, who was watching him from the armchair. His chest and head hurt. "I just... need a break." He looked away from Ica again. Looking at him only made the pain worse.

Ica furrowed his brow the way he usually did when he was worried. "Are you okay?"

And that broke the dam.

"No."

He took a deep breath and looked back at Ica. "I... Haven't really thought about any of that since..." he trailed off, his heart thudding. "It used to terrify me the way he could just look so unbothered after he... hurt me." The words caught in his throat. "I couldn't predict when he'd go off... Some days he was fine. Loving even."

"Dayin," Ica said, his voice soft as he leaned forward in the armchair, ready to move he needed to. "If you don't want to talk—"

"If I don't, I'll be stuck thinking about it," Dayin admitted, feeling so, so ridiculous and so weak. It was true. He hadn't thought of it for this reason. It was a spiral.

Ica was quiet for a moment, studying Dayin. "Then my ears are yours."

Dayin stayed silent, lost in the memories. "I was scared," he said, his voice quiet again. "Am scared. I... tried so hard to be who he wanted, but it was never enough. I'm... Not a people person. I never even had friends."

Gods, he'd been so lonely all those years. "I just wanted to make him happy."

"You can't please everyone," Ica pointed out gently.

"Hard not to want to please someone when you can never tell their mood," Dayin sighed. He knew Ica meant well, knew he understood from the fights he got into when Jensen... but it wasn't the same.

"I just meant it as you don't have to worry about it anymore," Ica said. He seemed to realize what he'd said and immediately opened his mouth to apologize, his blue eyes wide upon the realization.

"Please don't," Dayin said, cutting him off before a sound even came out of his mouth. He felt so dumb for missing his father; how could he miss someone who had made his childhood so miserable? But it didn't stop him. There were still good memories. "They're not dead," he said, his chest aching at even the thought that they might be gone forever.

"I didn't mean that—"

Dayin eyed him closely and Ica fell silent mid sentence. "I know," he said quietly, his eyes closed for a moment, trying to relax. "It slipped. I know."