[Queen does the typical cat thing where she starts rubbing alllll up in Rue's business. Just pretend she has a cat scent to mark.
Casey takes in that expression, the pride and warmth that comes from Mother Approval, and some secret tension bleeds out of his shoulders. Whatever else happens, going forward, he won't ever lose this. The rest will be... just fine. Somehow. Probably.
But he'll always have Rue.]
It's done for now, yeah. Hard to believe it's already been two... semesters? [He thinks that was the word they used.] Hunter's trying out some smaller summer classes. I was thinking of doing that too, but not yet. Gonna take a break first.
[He definitely can't focus on anything now, so. Nevermind.]
[Casey and Rue are all too alike in so many regards - the most obvious is how they wear their emotions right on their sleeves. The owlbear watches the tension bleed out of their son's skinny frame and they know this isn't the only reason why he's come over.
And that's just fine.]
You have worked so hard, Casey. A few weeks off is exactly what you deserve. If you have the free time, you can come spend some mornings in the shop with me and then we'll close up early and spend the rest of the day outside basking in the sunshine. Doesn't that sound like the most perfect summer break?
[The reassurance of being able to spend whatever time he wants with Rue (even if he already knew he could, and has in fact been doing it already), to have not just permission but an open invitation, is so wonderful. It sure helps with that weird anxious feeling he's had since Casey Senior's arrival. (What if she hates the truth? What if she doesn't like him anymore? What if it's too weird and awkward and she'd rather he keep away? What if, what if-)
Rue's not a back-up plan by any means. But he still likes having somewhere to turn if sharing the truth goes south for whatever reason (irrational or not) and his heart's broken for a while.]
Wouldn't that be a problem for your work? You must be in such high demand these days.
The demand will never be too great that I can't take a few afternoons off with my family. Besides, I have employees now - [as strange as that still is to say, but Rue quite enjoys the team they've built up at Hoot Couture. And Sansa's already proven she's ready and willing to step up when necessary.] So no one would go without.
[While giving Queen a long drag of their paw over her lithe, arching back, Rue has long enough wings to drop their other paw to Casey's shoulder, squeezing lightly.]
I already put my work ahead of my life once before. I vowed to never do that again, not here. Not with a family to care for. Every moment we have together is far more precious to me.
[They catch his eye and there's nothing but warmth and love and full understanding there.]
Forgive me for being so forward, but there are no formalities between the two of us. Are you quite alright, my Casey?
[It's the answer he'd expected - or at least 99% expected - but he had to ask, anyway. For him, right now it feels wrong to make assumptions. A huge part of his world's been turned upside down, and his decision-making skills are not, perhaps, at his best.
Which might be why, when they ask so directly, looking at him so lovingly, holding him so gently, Casey's expression is ashamed as his gaze drops to the floor, and for the first time in probably many, many months:]
I'm fine...
[He lies, like a liar. Badly, obviously. An ounce of pressure and he'll probably crack like an egg.
But this is- it's different from usual! This is a Mom issue! He doesn't want to upset them, or say the wrong thing and ruin what they have (Rue promised that's impossible) or make them worry (they will regardless) or, or, or.
He doesn't know. He's scared and anxious and he doesn't know.]
[That's really all of the proof that Rue needs - Casey has never been less fine in his life.
But Rue is not hurt by the dishonesty like they once might have been. Now, nearly into a year of knowing this young man, they see it for exactly what it is - a painful deflection, trembling fear, a worry over something so great that it feels impossible to even get the words out - they know this isn't about them. It's something else entirely weighing against their son's skinny shoulders.
One more little scritch to Queen before Rue is rising up to let their full attention fall to Casey. They squeeze at his shoulder. As always, their expression is nothing but patient calm and gentle understanding.]
[In the end it's the guilt that's gonna get him. When Rue (who knows, and he knows they know, of course they do) does not press him, he feels the weight of it at once, as much as the pressure to handle the Cassandra situation, as much as the heavy wing resting gently around his shoulders. After a moment, he nods, his voice low.]
I'd like that.
[He'll tell them. He has to. Maybe the garden will help him find the words.]
[Of course the greatest asset to their old age is Rue's near infinite patience. They hold Casey's hand, drawing him outside through the blooms of their garden, humming gently as they stroll slowly, keeping their son close, letting him feel the comfort of their presence, the warmth of the sun.
It's such a colorful, fragrant, beautiful moment. And Rue can wait as long as they need for Casey to feel ready to open up to them.]
[Casey trails along beside them, allowing himself to be led, grateful to be directed in such a literal way. Queen follows them outside, trotting along behind at first before running ahead at the sight of a butterfly to chase around the flowers.
It is beautiful out, and though it takes a moment, Casey drags his gaze up from the ground to properly appreciate it.]
Yeah... it's always so pretty here, but it looks extra good today. [Like even the flowers are telling him it'll be fine! ...Because it will, for sure. With Rue, at least.
...Ugh, just say something already. As usual, with Casey, it doesn't take infinite patience to get the truth out so much as an ounce of it.] It's nothing bad. At least, um. It's nothing that'll hurt me. Physically.
[Wow junior could that have come out any less reassuring. With a self-exasperated sigh, he buries his face against his free hand. Big yikes, as the kids say.]
[Oh dear. That isn't at all reassuring. If Casey is hyper-focusing on the positives of what he's currently being dragged through, it can only mean the negatives are too great to bear.
Out there, among the roses and peonies and hydrangeas, Rue guides their son over towards a bench hidden from the rest of the garden with flowering plants, a little private sanctuary, just for the two of them. There, they get him settled at their side, still holding onto one hand, but giving Casey the space to hide behind the other as long as he needs.]
Casey, my love. Pray, I'm beginning to feel worried. What's going on?
[At that, he sighs. At himself, at the situation, at everything. When Mom starts to get overly worried, the stalling has to stop. It's not fair, and this isn't something they need to worry about. Not really.
He mumbles an answer at first, unintelligible, and then with a frustrated noise (come on, Jones!) he finally manages,]
My mom is here.
[A beat, and then, realizing how absurd that is to say to his mom,]
I mean-! My future mom. Er, the past version? Cassandra Jones. Senior.
Casey's mother is here? His real mother. The one he lost when he was just a child? What must that feel like? It had been one thing to speak to his version of Leo, to find that closure he'd never been given, but with his mother? Casey lost out on everything with her, that's so much more complicated to navigate. Especially if she's here for real, available and present.
Rue's talons are brushing the hair from his forehead, paws petting through his hair, all gentle and reassuring and always affectionate.]
How are you feeling, Casey? Have you spoken to her?
[He gladly leans into their fussing, eyes closing for a long moment. With the stress he's been trying to bury for a while now, it's a relief to be pampered a bit.]
I talked to her... I met her over in Cruel Summer. She's a Legend. [He pauses, his lips quirking.] Of course she is.
[She's always been a legend to him, having grown up on stories. A woman of seemingly infinite energy and enthusiasm, who dove into everything at 100%. He can't imagine a role that would suit her better. (Both of his moms are Legends. It's a perfect fit.)]
I didn't tell her who I was, though. I... didn't know how. I'm still trying to figure that out.
[Then pamper they shall, with soft, reassuring brushes of feathers and as many hugs as a teenage boy could ever need.
Rue fusses quietly while Casey speaks, giving him the time he needs to process his impossible feelings into words, to let him just feel the warmth of their presence at his side, knowing he isn't alone as he faces this.
The fact that she is a past version though... That does add more trouble, doesn't it?]
You will need to tell her. And soon. [Gently spoken, but there's a hint of firmness there.] These kinds of things shouldn't be left for too long or Thirteen will take matters into her own paws.
...I know. [The firmness stings a little - he does know, he's going to! - but it's deserved so he has no protest. Rue's pushing for his own good.] April already talked to me about it, she met my mom, too. I said more or less the same thing to her.
[Considering the past several months have been all about confessing one thing or another, this is a truth that's screaming to come out in some dramatic fashion if he doesn't do it himself. He doesn't want another round of detention or something similar.]
Just... I wanted to think about it for a while. I haven't seen her since I was five. I barely remember her. It's not just me I might have to tell her about, it's the invasion, the end of the world, the fact that she died... it could be a lot at once.
[Above him, Rue's feathery face pinches with worry, their talons never straying far from where they are running through Casey's hair.]
Thinking about it is a good idea. Just seeing her again, I can not imagine how much you must. And to have to carry the burden of sharing all of that with her again - it's a great deal for you to have to juggle, my love. Perhaps, you should keep the initial conversation as simple as possible. The invasion, all of what came after, that piece doesn't have to directly fall on you. The others know her, don't they?
[That suggestion gives him pause. He hadn't thought about that- the idea that the now-alternate reality he comes from, the apocalypse, the Krang, none of it is specifically relevant to the fact that Cassandra had a kid and that kid is him. That could happen in some nebulous future to her, still.]
They do, yeah... they probably know her better than I do.
[They've known her, what, several months given the times they've come from? Meanwhile, despite knowing her five years, most of those memories are gone and what little remains is the mom Cassandra, not the recently-redeemed teenager version. He can't tell how different the two are yet.]
Do you think that's okay? If I let someone else handle that part? At least at first...
[Let's be perfectly honest. Casey has more than enough on his plate already, just having the chance to reach out and form a new relationship with the woman. He shouldn't be burdened by the rest of that nastiness. After the life he's lived, he should be able to focus solely on the hopeful future of this meeting.
The chance to reunite with his other.]
It is better than okay, Casey. I think you simply must. Any of the others would step up to take that piece from you without question. And we both know that reliving those memories will never affect them in the same way that they will affect you. You lived through it over and over again already.
Let the rest of us step up to take it from you, alright?
[Casey opens his mouth to respond, but even as he begins, the words (whatever they might have been) die in his throat, and he just... doesn't. He stares at Rue as the words sink in, and his gaze slowly sinks towards the ground. He... must? He must...
But isn't that selfish? Isn't it wrong? They suffered during the invasion, too. Trauma doesn't care if you endure it for a day or a lifetime. Yet, he hasn't let himself think about it before: the reliving, through the retelling. He's shared his tale through awkward necessity countless times now, to explain why he is the way he is, the excess of questions he asks about everything that might otherwise be deemed "normal", to clarify why he says this or that. That was his normal. Everyone's been so kind. Everyone says they're sorry, or that he's strong, or that he has so much to discover, or. Or.
His hands curl into fists at his sides, fingers twisting around in the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't have to tell her. Not about the invasion, or the slow death of the entirety of Earth, or her murder, or the fall of every person that they cared about. Not about failing to stop it twice over in the past, of watching a familiar hole open up in the sky and the city erupting into flames around them, not about that cold feeling of despair that he couldn't do the one thing sensei asked of him, that he was going to continue growing up in a dying world, that their fate was sealed, that Master Michelangelo and sensei had died for nothing. Not how Leo... how he had...
He shudders, taking a breath, and it's like some horrible, huge weight had been dragged off his shoulders. Someone else can. Someone else can do it. He doesn't have to explain or justify himself, as if there's something wrong with him. Not to her. Not to his mom. Maybe she'll just... accept him, like Rue does. Maybe he'll be lucky enough to have two amazing moms, and he can meet her properly with a smile. Maybe the horrors of the future can reach her some other way.
He reaches up, fingers curling around Rue's talons, his voice shaken, not quite able to meet their gaze.]
A... alright... alright. Please. I don't... want to tell her.
[She needs to know. But if it's really okay, don't let it be him.]
[It's as if the realization that Casey does not have to carry all of this on his own takes their young son by the shoulders and shakes him until every last bit of the weight he's been shouldering the last year just flies off of him, leaving the teenager shuddering and gasping for breath. Unable to meet ther gaze, but curling around his fingers around their talons anyway, a small sign that he needs Rue and doesn't want to be left alone with this.
Rue doesn't scoop him up, but they do wrap Casey in a wing, drawing him close to their feathers and soft fabrics and familiar floral scent, just hoping to envelop him fully.]
Then you won't. I promise, Casey. We will handle it. That way you can simply focus on your own feelings and growing a new relationship with her. The rest is off your shoulders.
[And how grateful Rue is that he's accepting the help, though of all of their children, Casey's always been the best at it. Still, this is a big one and it's so significant that he can trust his family to pick up the pieces in his stead.]
Breathe it all out, my love. I'm right here. You don't have to face any of this alone.
[He leans in as they hold him and buries his face into their feathers, allowing himself to be lost in the embrace for a little bit. It's a familiar old story, Casey Jones is sad, Casey Jones is crying, Casey Jones needs a hug and comfort and to be coddled again. He shoves those thoughts away, though, stubbornly refusing to let himself feel bad about it. He must, they said. He must let someone else handle it. He's not alone. That family motto is stronger than the other, it always should be. It can be about him, this time. About them. They're so much stronger together.
His arms come up to hug Rue back, and he sniffs, letting the tears fall without fighting back. Rue won't judge him, he knows they never will.]
It hurts... my chest hurts. I thought- I mean, I knew, deep down, I'd see her... in the past. But I wasn't ready. I'm happy... I'm scared. I heard her voice and I was a little kid again, in our room, waiting for her to come home.
[Rue's poor darling boy. No one else could ever imagine the kind of pain he's going through, could they? It is so singularly, uniquely his own? They won't let him go for anything, just hugging Casey close, keeping him pressed to their feathers, a kiss pecked to the top of his head.]
It's alright, Casey. Go ahead and let it out. No one could ever blame you for the pain you must feel seeing her again. It isn't selfish or wrong to hurt, my love, and it isn't either of those things if you decide you need to take it slow with her either.
[And he does; he lets it out, those tears, and cries quietly into their feathers. He hadn't been waiting on their permission - they were going to come regardless - but it helps, it always helps. It eases the worry that he does this too much, too often. Rue is here, holding him. It'll be okay.]
I have to, don't I? For her sake, too. She's not- she's not my mom. My mom died. She won't know me. Even if she accepts me, it can't be that easy...
[Just like the others. And it'll be weird for him too, surely. He's so much older than he was when he lost her. He's not a little boy to be swept up and kissed and carried, to soothe and give salvaged broken toys to as a treat for being good alone while she went on missions. He's taller than she is now, a trained warrior, a soldier. Not unlike her, growing up in the Foot Clan.]
[Casey's tears are a weapon for how immediately they pierce Rue's big heart, but that just means they move to hold their son closer, listening to his every word, refusing for Casey to feel anything but their complete, all-encompassing love in this very moment.]
Even if she might not have been your mother yet, she is still the woman your mother grows to be. They are not so different, in the end. It might not be as difficult as you think, just take it slow, of course. One day at a time. Pray, this time last year, you would have been sent running at the idea of me being your mother, wouldn't you? And look where we are now.
[That comment gets him to lift his face to look at them, blinking back more tears, red-eyed and mussy, but it drags a small smile onto his lips.]
We hadn't even met yet. I'd think whoever said it was crazy. Now I can't imagine life without you.
[Perhaps he'd felt that way about his birth mother, while she was alive: that he'd always have her, that she would never leave his side, that he wouldn't go a single day without her next to him. Now he has hardly any memories of those days, and Cassandra hasn't given birth to him, maybe never will in the timeline of Earth that was saved. He doesn't know if she's very different or not. She... felt the same, though. Whatever his heart had felt in that moment was familiar. She sounded the same, her voice resonating with some buried nostalgia. He'd forgotten her voice, and now he remembers. Memories are so fickle, and that makes it all so much harder.
He probably is overthinking it, though. Take it slow. One day at a time. As usual, Rue knows just how to handle it.]
No matter what she says... it'll be okay. I'll always have you.
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Casey takes in that expression, the pride and warmth that comes from Mother Approval, and some secret tension bleeds out of his shoulders. Whatever else happens, going forward, he won't ever lose this. The rest will be... just fine. Somehow. Probably.
But he'll always have Rue.]
It's done for now, yeah. Hard to believe it's already been two... semesters? [He thinks that was the word they used.] Hunter's trying out some smaller summer classes. I was thinking of doing that too, but not yet. Gonna take a break first.
[He definitely can't focus on anything now, so. Nevermind.]
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And that's just fine.]
You have worked so hard, Casey. A few weeks off is exactly what you deserve. If you have the free time, you can come spend some mornings in the shop with me and then we'll close up early and spend the rest of the day outside basking in the sunshine. Doesn't that sound like the most perfect summer break?
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[The reassurance of being able to spend whatever time he wants with Rue (even if he already knew he could, and has in fact been doing it already), to have not just permission but an open invitation, is so wonderful. It sure helps with that weird anxious feeling he's had since Casey Senior's arrival. (What if she hates the truth? What if she doesn't like him anymore? What if it's too weird and awkward and she'd rather he keep away? What if, what if-)
Rue's not a back-up plan by any means. But he still likes having somewhere to turn if sharing the truth goes south for whatever reason (irrational or not) and his heart's broken for a while.]
Wouldn't that be a problem for your work? You must be in such high demand these days.
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[While giving Queen a long drag of their paw over her lithe, arching back, Rue has long enough wings to drop their other paw to Casey's shoulder, squeezing lightly.]
I already put my work ahead of my life once before. I vowed to never do that again, not here. Not with a family to care for. Every moment we have together is far more precious to me.
[They catch his eye and there's nothing but warmth and love and full understanding there.]
Forgive me for being so forward, but there are no formalities between the two of us. Are you quite alright, my Casey?
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Which might be why, when they ask so directly, looking at him so lovingly, holding him so gently, Casey's expression is ashamed as his gaze drops to the floor, and for the first time in probably many, many months:]
I'm fine...
[He lies, like a liar. Badly, obviously. An ounce of pressure and he'll probably crack like an egg.
But this is- it's different from usual! This is a Mom issue! He doesn't want to upset them, or say the wrong thing and ruin what they have (Rue promised that's impossible) or make them worry (they will regardless) or, or, or.
He doesn't know. He's scared and anxious and he doesn't know.]
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But Rue is not hurt by the dishonesty like they once might have been. Now, nearly into a year of knowing this young man, they see it for exactly what it is - a painful deflection, trembling fear, a worry over something so great that it feels impossible to even get the words out - they know this isn't about them. It's something else entirely weighing against their son's skinny shoulders.
One more little scritch to Queen before Rue is rising up to let their full attention fall to Casey. They squeeze at his shoulder. As always, their expression is nothing but patient calm and gentle understanding.]
Shall we go for a walk in the garden?
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I'd like that.
[He'll tell them. He has to. Maybe the garden will help him find the words.]
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It's such a colorful, fragrant, beautiful moment. And Rue can wait as long as they need for Casey to feel ready to open up to them.]
It's a perfect day, don't you think?
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It is beautiful out, and though it takes a moment, Casey drags his gaze up from the ground to properly appreciate it.]
Yeah... it's always so pretty here, but it looks extra good today. [Like even the flowers are telling him it'll be fine! ...Because it will, for sure. With Rue, at least.
...Ugh, just say something already. As usual, with Casey, it doesn't take infinite patience to get the truth out so much as an ounce of it.] It's nothing bad. At least, um. It's nothing that'll hurt me. Physically.
[Wow junior could that have come out any less reassuring. With a self-exasperated sigh, he buries his face against his free hand. Big yikes, as the kids say.]
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Out there, among the roses and peonies and hydrangeas, Rue guides their son over towards a bench hidden from the rest of the garden with flowering plants, a little private sanctuary, just for the two of them. There, they get him settled at their side, still holding onto one hand, but giving Casey the space to hide behind the other as long as he needs.]
Casey, my love. Pray, I'm beginning to feel worried. What's going on?
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He mumbles an answer at first, unintelligible, and then with a frustrated noise (come on, Jones!) he finally manages,]
My mom is here.
[A beat, and then, realizing how absurd that is to say to his mom,]
I mean-! My future mom. Er, the past version? Cassandra Jones. Senior.
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Spirits, [A gentle murmur, their bright eyes widening slightly, feathers ruffling.
Casey's mother is here? His real mother. The one he lost when he was just a child? What must that feel like? It had been one thing to speak to his version of Leo, to find that closure he'd never been given, but with his mother? Casey lost out on everything with her, that's so much more complicated to navigate. Especially if she's here for real, available and present.
Rue's talons are brushing the hair from his forehead, paws petting through his hair, all gentle and reassuring and always affectionate.]
How are you feeling, Casey? Have you spoken to her?
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I talked to her... I met her over in Cruel Summer. She's a Legend. [He pauses, his lips quirking.] Of course she is.
[She's always been a legend to him, having grown up on stories. A woman of seemingly infinite energy and enthusiasm, who dove into everything at 100%. He can't imagine a role that would suit her better. (Both of his moms are Legends. It's a perfect fit.)]
I didn't tell her who I was, though. I... didn't know how. I'm still trying to figure that out.
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Rue fusses quietly while Casey speaks, giving him the time he needs to process his impossible feelings into words, to let him just feel the warmth of their presence at his side, knowing he isn't alone as he faces this.
The fact that she is a past version though... That does add more trouble, doesn't it?]
You will need to tell her. And soon. [Gently spoken, but there's a hint of firmness there.] These kinds of things shouldn't be left for too long or Thirteen will take matters into her own paws.
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[Considering the past several months have been all about confessing one thing or another, this is a truth that's screaming to come out in some dramatic fashion if he doesn't do it himself. He doesn't want another round of detention or something similar.]
Just... I wanted to think about it for a while. I haven't seen her since I was five. I barely remember her. It's not just me I might have to tell her about, it's the invasion, the end of the world, the fact that she died... it could be a lot at once.
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Thinking about it is a good idea. Just seeing her again, I can not imagine how much you must. And to have to carry the burden of sharing all of that with her again - it's a great deal for you to have to juggle, my love. Perhaps, you should keep the initial conversation as simple as possible. The invasion, all of what came after, that piece doesn't have to directly fall on you. The others know her, don't they?
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They do, yeah... they probably know her better than I do.
[They've known her, what, several months given the times they've come from? Meanwhile, despite knowing her five years, most of those memories are gone and what little remains is the mom Cassandra, not the recently-redeemed teenager version. He can't tell how different the two are yet.]
Do you think that's okay? If I let someone else handle that part? At least at first...
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The chance to reunite with his other.]
It is better than okay, Casey. I think you simply must. Any of the others would step up to take that piece from you without question. And we both know that reliving those memories will never affect them in the same way that they will affect you. You lived through it over and over again already.
Let the rest of us step up to take it from you, alright?
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But isn't that selfish? Isn't it wrong? They suffered during the invasion, too. Trauma doesn't care if you endure it for a day or a lifetime. Yet, he hasn't let himself think about it before: the reliving, through the retelling. He's shared his tale through awkward necessity countless times now, to explain why he is the way he is, the excess of questions he asks about everything that might otherwise be deemed "normal", to clarify why he says this or that. That was his normal. Everyone's been so kind. Everyone says they're sorry, or that he's strong, or that he has so much to discover, or. Or.
His hands curl into fists at his sides, fingers twisting around in the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't have to tell her. Not about the invasion, or the slow death of the entirety of Earth, or her murder, or the fall of every person that they cared about. Not about failing to stop it twice over in the past, of watching a familiar hole open up in the sky and the city erupting into flames around them, not about that cold feeling of despair that he couldn't do the one thing sensei asked of him, that he was going to continue growing up in a dying world, that their fate was sealed, that Master Michelangelo and sensei had died for nothing. Not how Leo... how he had...
He shudders, taking a breath, and it's like some horrible, huge weight had been dragged off his shoulders. Someone else can. Someone else can do it. He doesn't have to explain or justify himself, as if there's something wrong with him. Not to her. Not to his mom. Maybe she'll just... accept him, like Rue does. Maybe he'll be lucky enough to have two amazing moms, and he can meet her properly with a smile. Maybe the horrors of the future can reach her some other way.
He reaches up, fingers curling around Rue's talons, his voice shaken, not quite able to meet their gaze.]
A... alright... alright. Please. I don't... want to tell her.
[She needs to know. But if it's really okay, don't let it be him.]
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Rue doesn't scoop him up, but they do wrap Casey in a wing, drawing him close to their feathers and soft fabrics and familiar floral scent, just hoping to envelop him fully.]
Then you won't. I promise, Casey. We will handle it. That way you can simply focus on your own feelings and growing a new relationship with her. The rest is off your shoulders.
[And how grateful Rue is that he's accepting the help, though of all of their children, Casey's always been the best at it. Still, this is a big one and it's so significant that he can trust his family to pick up the pieces in his stead.]
Breathe it all out, my love. I'm right here. You don't have to face any of this alone.
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His arms come up to hug Rue back, and he sniffs, letting the tears fall without fighting back. Rue won't judge him, he knows they never will.]
It hurts... my chest hurts. I thought- I mean, I knew, deep down, I'd see her... in the past. But I wasn't ready. I'm happy... I'm scared. I heard her voice and I was a little kid again, in our room, waiting for her to come home.
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It's alright, Casey. Go ahead and let it out. No one could ever blame you for the pain you must feel seeing her again. It isn't selfish or wrong to hurt, my love, and it isn't either of those things if you decide you need to take it slow with her either.
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I have to, don't I? For her sake, too. She's not- she's not my mom. My mom died. She won't know me. Even if she accepts me, it can't be that easy...
[Just like the others. And it'll be weird for him too, surely. He's so much older than he was when he lost her. He's not a little boy to be swept up and kissed and carried, to soothe and give salvaged broken toys to as a treat for being good alone while she went on missions. He's taller than she is now, a trained warrior, a soldier. Not unlike her, growing up in the Foot Clan.]
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[Casey's tears are a weapon for how immediately they pierce Rue's big heart, but that just means they move to hold their son closer, listening to his every word, refusing for Casey to feel anything but their complete, all-encompassing love in this very moment.]
Even if she might not have been your mother yet, she is still the woman your mother grows to be. They are not so different, in the end. It might not be as difficult as you think, just take it slow, of course. One day at a time. Pray, this time last year, you would have been sent running at the idea of me being your mother, wouldn't you? And look where we are now.
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We hadn't even met yet. I'd think whoever said it was crazy. Now I can't imagine life without you.
[Perhaps he'd felt that way about his birth mother, while she was alive: that he'd always have her, that she would never leave his side, that he wouldn't go a single day without her next to him. Now he has hardly any memories of those days, and Cassandra hasn't given birth to him, maybe never will in the timeline of Earth that was saved. He doesn't know if she's very different or not. She... felt the same, though. Whatever his heart had felt in that moment was familiar. She sounded the same, her voice resonating with some buried nostalgia. He'd forgotten her voice, and now he remembers. Memories are so fickle, and that makes it all so much harder.
He probably is overthinking it, though. Take it slow. One day at a time. As usual, Rue knows just how to handle it.]
No matter what she says... it'll be okay. I'll always have you.
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