Logs [Haroun/Miles, Haroun/Alison] Things that should be said and done...

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

Two logs for the price of one lj cut tag!

Miles and Haroun have a chat about his family, which leaves Haroun with a few disturbing realizations. Later on, he heads off to have a little talk with Alison about her own family... And other such small details.

The light streaming through the window and illuminating the small living room was enough to warm one up nicely, in spite of the a/c keeping the inside of the mansion comfortably cool even in the strongest of heats. Looking up and squinting a bit in the sunlight, Miles watched for a moment as Haroun finished writing one of those long letters of his at his desk, sealing it carefully once he was done. Turning his head to the side, the boy looked through the doorway – Alison was there in the bedroom, pensively going over something or other music related, the earphones connected to the keyboard she was using to practice keeping her in a world of her own.

Finally, Miles decided that he'd just ask Haroun directly. Pushing himself up to his feet, his book placed on the part of the bookshelf reserved to him and then wandered over to Haroun's desk, his 'I'm a curious small boy and I have a question' expression firmly in place.

Haroun carefully put the letter to his parents aside, and looked down at the boy. "Yes?" he asked, curious as to what Miles had got into his mind this time. "What's on your mind?"

After a moment's reflection, Miles finally stepped up close to the desk, enough to peer at the envelope resting there curiously. "Who does Haroun write to like that all the time?" He'd been wondering for a while now, glimpses of these moments steadily piling up in his memory until he'd realized the dead steady regularity there was to them.

Haroun smiled, motioning Miles up to a chair where they could hold a more normal, more equal conversation. "My parents. They live in Morocco, which is in Africa." he said. "Since I can't go see them, I write them letters about how I am doing and the things that happen in my life." he said simply.

"That is very far away, Miles thinks." He remembered his lessons, after all – even though now he knew how to read and write, remembering things was still important, somehow. They just weren't exactly the same kind of things he'd remembered before, though he rarely thought of that unless reminded, these days, in the way small children live from day to day rather than in the past or future. "What is it like?" Scrambling up on the chair, Miles waited for the answer. Never once did it occur to him to ask why Haroun could not go see them. There was a Reason, plain and simple.

"It was ... different, than it was here. Hotter, mostly, although we were fairly close to the ocean. People there were like people anywhere- they lived and they died, they loved and they hated, fell in love, had children, just like people everywhere do. Here, I can show you this..." he said, digging his wallet out of his back pocket and flipping it to a very well-worn photo. "That's my parents." he said, showing Miles the grinning man and the burqa-clad woman next to him.

"Haroun's dad smiles like Haroun does," was Miles first remark, as he peered at the picture intently. He'd seen this though, on the TV and once while he'd been in town, with Alison. "And her face is hidden." Miles would have liked to see her smile, too. "But some people do this, Miles remembers that..." Tilting his head to the side, he let his gaze drift over the rest of the picture, taking in other details one at a time. Including how worn the picture was, and how much care Haroun put into handling it.

"Yes, he does." he said with a grin of pride. "And my mother is a religious woman. She hides her face out of modesty." he said. "Not everyone is like that, but it is important to her." He was taking very, very good care of his picture - if he lost it, he'd have to go through an enormous amount of trouble to get a new one.

Nodding seriously at that, Miles soon slipped into a little boy's smile as he peeked at the picture once more. One of the carefully smoothed corners was folded though, just enough to reveal that someone had written something behind the picture. Eyeing that for a moment, Miles then looked up at Haroun once more. "What is written behind the picture?" He recognized the characters as the same Haroun used to write his letters, and address them – it wasn't one he ever remembered seeing before, until Haroun's writing had introduced them to him and it still intrigued him.

Haroun turned the picture over, to reveal the spidery writing that his mother favored. "It's a quote from the Koran." he said. "My mother wrote it for me on the day I left home to come to America." he said, losing himself in the memory. She was so sure that America would change him, drive him away. In a way, she'd been both very right and very, very wrong. "It's about the importance of family."

"Miles has a family now!" The words were spontaneous, accompanied by a sudden and bright smile. "Families are important. Miles is very lucky." The words written in Arabic drew his attention once more though, and Miles leaned just a bit closer. "Miles thinks the words are pretty."

"Miles, has Alison told you about your grandparents yet?" he asked curiously. "I have a big family - both my mother and my father come from large families. At last count, I have seven uncles and four aunts, and a small horde of cousins." he said with a fond smile. "Probably more now."

"Grandpar..." Trailing off, Miles shook his head slowly. "No." He blinked at that, because of course Alison had parents too, right? He'd just never thought to ask, really. "Haroun has a big family," he murmured, feeling a bit confused by how suddenly strong the contrast was and unsure what to say anymore.

Haroun saw the confusion in Miles's face, and then hurried to find something to change the subject with. "Hey, you know what? Let's go downstairs and get a snack, and then I'll spot you a rook if you're up for a game?" he said lightly, trying to brush off the boy's black mood.

The conversation instantly forgotten for now by the promise of 1) food and 2) a game, Miles perked up instantly. "Okay!" Sidling down from the chair, he nudged it back into place and then waited for Haroun to put away the various writing implements and papers on his desk, before heading for the door, only briefly ducking into the bedroom to wave at Alison who smiled at them both through the doorway before going back to her music.

~*~

A few hours later...

"Hey." Haroun said to Alison as he gracelessly flopped onto their bed. "Your son is turning into a fine chess player. Gave me a few hard moments today." he said. "How'd the music thing go?"

"Mmm, you should have seen him take to Warcraft when he first started playing that," she grinned, eyeing the keyboard for a moment, before pushing it from her lap and setting it aside on the bed. She was glad he'd been asleep the previous night, the now vanished migraine therefore needing no explanations. "I think I've gotten all I can out of this for today, actually. And here you are, just in time to distract me!" Grinning cheerfully she set the pen and stack of music sheets on the light keyboard, then lifted the whole set, setting it on the ground and sliding it to its usual place under the bed. And then flopped back on the bed next to Haroun without a second thought.

"I like my strategy games turn-based. Sid Meyer Is My Master Now." He said, quoting from something-or-another. "Had a nice chat with Miles, though. Showed him the pic of my parents. He was full of questions."

Turning on her stomach at that, Alison looked down at him, inching a bit closer. "Really?" She smiled a bit, shaking her head. "It's the sort of stuff I figured would be best to let you two work out, questions wise and all, so I never really went into details about that – he knows about what kind of foods you have to stay away from, though."

"Really." he said, and then paused for a few seconds as he thought. "Why haven't you told Miles about his grandparents?" he asked carefully. "Since you have such a big thing for family, why deny him yours?"

The question wasn't one she'd expected - it was, in fact, the last thing she'd have thought he'd say. "I..." At a loss for words, she blinked at him for a few moments, trying to find the answer to the question he'd asked... while admitting to herself that there likely wasn't one that would do perfectly, at that. "I haven't even spoken to them since I left..."

"You should fix that." he said flatly. "It's not right. You're all adults now, it's time to start acting like it. Miles deserves to know." He leaned back and stretched himself for a second after he spoke, giving her time to process and respond.

Trying to breathe steadily, thoughts whirling, Alison shook her head. "It's not that simple. It's not! I-" She stopped, suddenly, feeling overwhelmed. Finally she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder lightly, speaking in low tones. "Last thing my father did as I was leaving was to disown me. I can't exactly just waltz back up to the house and tell them I want back in, and oh btw, look, here's my son..." The fear of their reaction to Miles was an unpleasant sensation, to say the least. "I don't want to expose Miles to what they might say or do."

"So you take it in steps. There's this marvelous invention, maybe you've heard of it. It's called a telephone. You give whichever of your parents you think hates you the least a call, and you talk. Don't even mention Miles, not right away. Just talk. See where it goes." he said. "Come on, Alison, you're stronger than this. Braver than this." he urged her.

She slumped down against the bed, face hidden, and tried to take in a deep breath - failing the first few times, before finally managing it. And then letting it go in a long sigh, pondering ways to go through the bed to hide underneath it. "You're right." She swallowed heavily, words muffled. "I just don't know how. And I'm scared. It's been so long and..."

"And nothing!" he said, cutting her off rudely. "You know what you should be doing. Do it. And soon. In the meantime, I think I'm going to go tell Miles a few more stories. You didn't see him, the look in his eyes. He eats it all up. When I asked if you'd told him about your family, it's like I kicked him in the balls, shot his dog, and took away his favorite toy. All at the same time. If I were him, I'd be pissed."

Alison stiffened and went still at that, unmoving for a moment as she processed what he'd just said. She took one slow breath, shoulders moving in harmony with the motion, then another and pushed herself up slowly, wordlessly so as she gave Haroun a calm look, tinged with a precarious coolness. "That hurts." When she finally spoke, the whisper seemed to be short of breath at the end, but Alison's jaw was set nonetheless, over the two words.

Haroun sighed. "All right, maybe that was a little harsh. Point still stands, though. He deserves to know. Even if it is just "My parents and I had a falling-out and we don't talk anymore", he deserves to know."

Watching him for a moment, Alison finally nodded once, slowly, before slumping back on the bed once more. This time though she took the time to curl up, expression wavering between unreadable – and glimpses which allowed Haroun clearly to see the storm of emotions going through her mind. "I should... talk to them first. Before I talk to Miles. At least try before telling him where things stand." She stared ahead, not really seeing anything. "They didn't even know I was a mutant until I came out at the concert..."

Haroun winced. "OK, that's really not a curveball you should throw the folks who brought you into the world." he said. "But I understand it wasn't something you had meticulously planned. And yes, talk to them first. Alone. Before mentioning Miles. Rebuild that bridge, if you can. Trust me - I miss my parents more than I can say. We were always rather close, even when I was a good little terrorist." he said with a grin.

"Not sure how to rebuild a bridge that got ended with my being disowned as I walked out the door," she said, a small and bitter laugh escaping her. The next breath was held in though, for a moment, Alison struggling to remain on an even keel. "Nothing to lose, right?" Even as she said that, she knew she was wrong. The hope that things might work out being crushed would be something she wasn't sure she could stand to lose. "God. I just wanted to sing and it was enough for them to kick me out of the house. Somehow, I don't think what I do now will fill them with much more joy."

"You take it one step at a time. You pick up the phone and you call. Maybe they'll talk to you, maybe they won't. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain." he pointed out. "And give them some room to surprise you. You never know..."

"Yeah." She swallowed at that, apprehension more than just a little present. "Yeah, you never know." She uncurled just a bit, enough to turn and rest her cheek on his shoulder, moving closer to him. Not quite nestling against him just yet, though perhaps working up to that. "I'll call. Might even get through on the first shot if their schedule is like it used to be."

Haroun nodded and ran his fingertip down her arm. "I'm proud of you for taking this step. For your sake, and for Miles's." he told her quietly.

A small nod answer that, her cheek moving slightly, giving away the motion. The light touch was enough for her to finally settle against him, giving in to the desire to just not thinking about it anymore and simply be, for a while. Just a little while. And later, maybe, she'd ask him what he and Miles had spoken about exactly, what Haroun had told him. Because knowing that would be good, in helping her figure out what else Miles might need...