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The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'ed stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage,
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go and hinder not my course
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.
Julia, Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act II Scene 7
“I don’t want to pity Simon Torquill,” Dean said as he lay down on Quentin’s bed.
“Do you have to?” He knew that there were adjustments going on before the divorce but Dean hadn’t mentioned pity before. Quentin shifted over to put his arm behind Dean and Dean shifted over to snuggle while still having his arms crossed.
“No, I don’t know. Peter keeps talking about how he’s moping around and hiding and Mom wants to pull people’s lungs out, but that’s just Mom. Dad’s doing his thing of being quiet and kind of sad but at least Simon’s not going anywhere. According to Helmi, he finally said he was going to stay, but ugh. I don’t want to feel sorry for him,” Dean said with a sigh, Quentin was a little jealous that Dean had his brother in communicating distance, to tell him everything going on in the Undersea.
Quentin kissed Dean on the lips, “You don’t have to. Toby’s a good example of how you don’t have to feel the way anyone thinks you have to.”
“I know but she started all this by fixing things and now I’ve got a stepfather, kind of. You saw the way my dad looked at him.”
“That was kind of sweet and Toby saves people, that’s what she does. But you don’t have to do anything. They can do their thing, and you figure out yours.” Quentin thought about how he did that with Toby when her ideas became a lot, he’d find out what worked for him and ignore the rest.
“Stop being reasonable,” Dean said as he rolled over to kiss Quentin.
Quentin smiled into the kiss, getting his arms around Dean.
“I don’t want anything from him,” Peter said with as much firmness as he could manage. He’d seen Simon on the edges, but Simon was clearly keeping himself to himself. He could smell his mother was wearing a different perfume and his father was smiling more.
“Was anyone asking you to take something?” Helmi asked him as she rested on Peter’s wall.
“No, but I don’t want to disappoint Dad if something is offered.”
“Go talk to your father and stop creating eddies that don’t exist.”
Peter sighed and leaned against the wall, “Fine, I’ll talk to him.”
His father wasn’t hard to find and Peter watched him reading before saying, “Dad, why do you love him?”
The question made his dad raise his eyes in a look of surprised shock and then smile, “Come sit down.”
Peter walked around the room once before sitting down with a slight harrumph, “Were you expecting me to ask?”
“Yes or tell me something. Asking is the nicer option. Simon’s always seen me and he’s kind and creative. Being around him makes me happy and I want him to be safe and able to be himself.”
“Because he hasn’t been able to be?” That seemed weird but there’s so much history. Peter knew some of it, Quentin had explained how scary it was when Toby gave up her way home, and Simon had done that. Then there was Oleander and Rayseline and Amadine and Simon had really spent time with the worst of Faerie, it was kind of impressive.
“No, he’s been under the thumb of too many people who used him and now he needs space and time to be safe and loved. You don’t have to love him, just let him be.”
“I can do that,” And if he got annoyed, he would take a long swim and find something to hit.
Patrick knocked on Simon’s workshop door and smiled as Simon opened it, though he hated to see the tension in Simon’s shoulders, “What are you working on?”
“Scents. I missed making perfumes for daily use. Amy always knew exactly what she wanted,” Then he stopped talking with an almost shudder. Patrick carefully walked closer, Simon must be thinking of those bad days with Oleander.
Gently Patrick put a hand on Simon’s shoulder and he leaned back into the touch, “You’re safe here.”
Simon put his hands over Patrick’s, and tightened them around himself and Patrick relaxed, he knew hugs weren’t easy, “After all these years, you still smell like fall and cider.”
“Did you think that the ocean would wash it all away?” He knew that the Undersea had changed him in unexpected ways.
“I don’t know. So many years, I’m not who I once was,” Simon’s voice was sad and Patrick said gently, “You’re my Simon.”
Simon sank down into the bath, he had never expected to find lovely baths in the Undersea but they were there. And when he was in them, it was easier to imagine a world that he hadn’t broken with his bad choices.
The door opened and Dianda came in with a smile before taking off her dress and sinking in beside him, “You always know the perfect temperature for baths, Simon.”
He laughed as he knew what a great compliment this was from her, “I like being comfortable.”
Long ago, being stylish and being at ease had been part of how he’d set his life. He allowed himself a look at her contented face and her curves in the water. Dianda held a surety in her body and herself that was reassuring. Her beauty was built of strength and laughter, and little hesitation. Simon couldn’t remember if there had ever been a time in his life when he hadn’t questioned what he did, worrying if it was proper or if it would be approved by those who watched over him. There was a time when he would have been consulted for what was fashionable. Then he was splashed and he opened his eyes to see Dianda giving him a considering look, “Simon, where did you go?”
“Nowhere bad, just thinking.”
“You and Patrick spend too much time thinking. Don’t let the undertow sweep you somewhere you don’t want to go.”
“Undertow, yes, it feels like that, but it’s not as strong now. I’ve been using the lab to brew up silly things like bubble baths and tonics for sore muscles and perfumes.”
“Which are wonderful. I like how spicy you make them, I want to know that I’m smelling something.”
Simon laughed as he couldn’t think of a better compliment, “Tell me your favorites and I’ll make sure you always know they’re there.”
“The ones that smell like plants and spices and Patrick.”
“I have some made that I know you’ll like,” Because Patrick was his anchor as well with his kindness and laughter and he cherished that Dianda chose to share Patrick with him.
“Your brother’s coming for dinner. I would have asked Quentin but there isn’t time for getting spells figured out,” His mother said with a firm nod.
Peter watched his mother who was smiling and smelling of a new spicy perfume, “And Simon?”
“Yes, and Simon. Are you going to eat with us?” While he’d never heard his mother sound hesitant, she was definitely waiting on him.
“I will. He seems okay,” Peter hadn’t searched out Simon and wasn’t planning on it but his parents were happy. Had his dad been worrying about Simon all these years?
Dean found Peter not long after he arrived and they settled on Peter’s bed, “How is he?”
“He’s fine. He stays in his rooms and mixes up perfumes and stuff but he’s making them happier. I almost wish he’d do something but then Helmi tells me to stop creating eddies that aren’t there. I think Mom just wanted us all to kind of do a sort of family thing,” Which they do sometimes but not that often.
“Families are weird,” Dean said, “You should come visit topside, spend a day in the chaos of Toby’s place.”
“Maybe, let’s get through this dinner first.”
Patrick turned his fork around and around as he stared at the table then heard the familiar certain steps of Dianda’s bare feet, “I can almost hear you worrying, Patrick. We’re having a meal together, that’s all.”
“I know, but I don’t want anyone to be unhappy.”
“We’re a family, that means sometimes we aren’t happy,” Diana said as he leaned against him.
“But we’re all here, which doesn’t happen that often,” As he said it, Dean and Peter came in, Dean giving a quick glance around the room as Simon came in as quietly as possible on the wet and wood floors of the Undersea.
Dianda kissed Patrick’s cheek before turning to Simon and opening her hands to him, “Simon, I love the new scent you created and thought to celebrate that we’d have some properly spicy stew.”
As that was his cue, Patrick stepped in, “Cioppino with everything as fresh as possible.”
“And I brought good bread,” Dean said with his spine straight but clearly trying, “Marcia made it.”
“Marcia makes the best bread,” Peter chimed in and from there, the talk of food and what everyone had been doing filled the awkward spaces and their lives swirled together a few more times.