TRACKS

maybe

Another day came through and across the room, Tharn sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. His silence weighed heavier than words.

Type: “You’re awfully quiet.”

Tharn didn’t lift his head.

Tharn: “Because if I say what I want to, you’ll think I’m cruel.”

Type’s brow furrowed, his grip on Rain’s hand tightening protectively.

Type: “Try me.”

Tharn finally raised his eyes, his voice low but firm.

Tharn: “I don’t want him near them anymore. Pete. That house. Any of them. They’ve done nothing but crush him, tear him apart, make him feel like he doesn’t belong. And tonight—look at him, Type. He collapsed in front of our eyes because of them. Do you really think he’ll survive if we keep letting this go on?”

Type swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He wanted to argue—wanted to defend Rain’s right to be recognize as someone carrying a part of that family —but deep down, he knew Tharn was right. Still, his heart ached at the thought.

Type: “But if we take him away, Tharn… what does that say to him? That we’re giving up on him That we’re cutting him off from what he longs for

Tharn rose to his feet, his voice rising slightly though he kept it controlled.

Tharn: Rain is our child and I won't let a single thing stop me from doing what's right for him even if I'd have to go against his own will

Type’s eyes filled with tears as he turned back to Rain’s pale face. He leaned down, pressing his lips softly to his son’s hand.

Type: I don’t want to lose him…

Tharn stepped closer, his hand resting gently on Type’s shoulder, the tension in his voice breaking into something softer.

Tharn: Then we need to protect him. Even if it means tearing him away from everything that hurts him. Even if it means tearing him away from Ven’s shadow

Type closed his eyes, his tears sliding silently down his cheeks. He knew Tharn was right. But in his heart, he also knew Rain would never forgive them easily for pulling him away from the last fragments of Venice’s world.

But then, without warning, Rain stirred. His fingers twitched faintly against Type’s palm.

Type jolted upright.

Type: Rain?

Rain’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused at first, before finally settling on his father’s face.

Rain: Mae…

Type’s heart nearly broke at the sound of his son’s voice. He leaned forward, brushing the damp hair from Rain’s forehead.

Type: I’m here, my baby. I’m here.

Rain blinked slowly, his lips parting as if to speak again, but then his gaze shifted past Type—toward Tharn. He caught the sharp lines of tension in his Appa’s face, the stiffness in his jaw.

Rain: you’re… angry

Tharn exhaled through his nose, moving closer to the bed. He reached out, carefully placing a hand against Rain’s shoulder.

Tharn: Not with you, Rain. Never with you.

But his voice betrayed him—it was too tight, too strained. Rain noticed.

His eyes grew glassy again, tears pooling at the corners as he turned slightly toward Type.

Rain: You’re fighting… because of me, aren’t you?