𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚑 ⩛ 𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
startedtheflamewar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2016-03-30 03:28 pm
startedtheflamewar) wrote in ten_fwd2016-03-30 03:28 pm
Entry tags:
mending bridges ↺ backdated to the 23rd ↺ closed & ota
Curveballs — of the metaphorical sort — have long been a part of Cash's life. During his work for the OSS, it was parts of his plans that hadn't gone accordingly. He'd learned to roll with the punches and to adapt those plans, one of the greatest lessons in his life. In the War, the curveballs had been different altogether: they were sights you couldn't unsee, sounds that never left you after you heard them, sights you had to work past. The same had been true for the town Cash had ended up in, the town in another universe, in varying forms of unpleasantness.
But this particular 'morning', when Cash wakes up, he receives a different kind of curveball altogether. After showering and eating, he sits down to give Squirrel a good backrub and then stiffens when he hears a familiar voice.
"And here I pegged you more as a dog man."
Blinking hard, Cash looks up to see August Gillingwater staring at him from the comm screen.
The family resemblance is visible, though Cash's father is more heavyset and stocky in build. But their faces — that's the key. They have the same blue eyes, the same dark brown hair, the same cheekbones. August has a neat beard, threaded with grey hairs. He's wearing the same beat-up shirt, dark blue faded to middle blue, that Cash remembers him always wearing around the house. His suits are for Sundays only.
"...dad," Cash manages, shocked.
"That's me." August frowns. "You called me, didn't you?"
"Er... yeah, sure." Just go with it, he thinks, getting up to sit closer to the screen. Squirrel's attention will have to wait. When's the last time he'd even seen his father? He can't remember. Some call during the War, probably... perhaps two years ago. "How've you been?"
August — in the same gruff voice he remembers, lower than Cash's — talks more about the family than himself, as per usual. How his brothers and sisters are doing. How Cash's mother is making too much food, as per usual. How Abingdon is faring. How tedious he finds the latest electronic devices. Cash sits, entranced, until his father mentions one of his brothers getting married.
"Jackson? He must have found a saint. ...Oh, uh... dad, I have someone I'd like you to meet," he says slowly. He feels a bundle of nerves settle in his stomach, though nowhere close to how many he'd be feeling if this were in person.
August looks surprised. Like Cash, he jokes about it. "I've already met the cat, son."
"Squirrel doesn't count." Cash looks around, toward the bedroom, trying to figure out if Luke is still hanging around their quarters. "Luke?"
Though his relationship with his father has been on the mend for a few years, Cash doesn't know how to process suddenly getting to speak with him. Things seem fine back home. It should be a relief, but there's a little tug of feeling in Cash's stomach — discomfort, that he isn't around. It's not his fault and it hasn't been for a while, but he supposes a part of him is still finding it hard to settle on the Enterprise.
Instead, he settles for getting some off-ship time. Cash grew up on a large portion of land, where his father had grown corn and wheat. He'd helped with the crops every step of the way until things at home had gotten bad enough for him to run away, as a teenager. He can't claim to know about every plant, certainly, but he knows the basics. And working with dirt is a familiar, calming task. So he puts his skills to as much use as he can.
When the natives aren't looking, Cash also puts being a divinity to use. He has only raw healing energy, which works more effectively on humans, but it tends to have a positive effect on plants with prolonged exposure. He keeps his output slow and faint, focusing on the plants which aren't doing so well, and gently rubs his thumb against the leaves. Perhaps some of the plants will turn back toward health.
He's smiling as he works, keeping his feelings under wraps. Anyone who works near him gets a friendly nod at the very least. He doesn't bother to hide his magic from fellow inhabitants of the ship; he's sure they've seen stranger things, for the most part.
But this particular 'morning', when Cash wakes up, he receives a different kind of curveball altogether. After showering and eating, he sits down to give Squirrel a good backrub and then stiffens when he hears a familiar voice.
"And here I pegged you more as a dog man."
Blinking hard, Cash looks up to see August Gillingwater staring at him from the comm screen.
→ closed to Luke
The family resemblance is visible, though Cash's father is more heavyset and stocky in build. But their faces — that's the key. They have the same blue eyes, the same dark brown hair, the same cheekbones. August has a neat beard, threaded with grey hairs. He's wearing the same beat-up shirt, dark blue faded to middle blue, that Cash remembers him always wearing around the house. His suits are for Sundays only.
"...dad," Cash manages, shocked.
"That's me." August frowns. "You called me, didn't you?"
"Er... yeah, sure." Just go with it, he thinks, getting up to sit closer to the screen. Squirrel's attention will have to wait. When's the last time he'd even seen his father? He can't remember. Some call during the War, probably... perhaps two years ago. "How've you been?"
August — in the same gruff voice he remembers, lower than Cash's — talks more about the family than himself, as per usual. How his brothers and sisters are doing. How Cash's mother is making too much food, as per usual. How Abingdon is faring. How tedious he finds the latest electronic devices. Cash sits, entranced, until his father mentions one of his brothers getting married.
"Jackson? He must have found a saint. ...Oh, uh... dad, I have someone I'd like you to meet," he says slowly. He feels a bundle of nerves settle in his stomach, though nowhere close to how many he'd be feeling if this were in person.
August looks surprised. Like Cash, he jokes about it. "I've already met the cat, son."
"Squirrel doesn't count." Cash looks around, toward the bedroom, trying to figure out if Luke is still hanging around their quarters. "Luke?"
→ OTA
Though his relationship with his father has been on the mend for a few years, Cash doesn't know how to process suddenly getting to speak with him. Things seem fine back home. It should be a relief, but there's a little tug of feeling in Cash's stomach — discomfort, that he isn't around. It's not his fault and it hasn't been for a while, but he supposes a part of him is still finding it hard to settle on the Enterprise.
Instead, he settles for getting some off-ship time. Cash grew up on a large portion of land, where his father had grown corn and wheat. He'd helped with the crops every step of the way until things at home had gotten bad enough for him to run away, as a teenager. He can't claim to know about every plant, certainly, but he knows the basics. And working with dirt is a familiar, calming task. So he puts his skills to as much use as he can.
When the natives aren't looking, Cash also puts being a divinity to use. He has only raw healing energy, which works more effectively on humans, but it tends to have a positive effect on plants with prolonged exposure. He keeps his output slow and faint, focusing on the plants which aren't doing so well, and gently rubs his thumb against the leaves. Perhaps some of the plants will turn back toward health.
He's smiling as he works, keeping his feelings under wraps. Anyone who works near him gets a friendly nod at the very least. He doesn't bother to hide his magic from fellow inhabitants of the ship; he's sure they've seen stranger things, for the most part.
no subject
He's never had anyone like that before. Sure, he's met some people who were a lot of fun to be with, while he was, but having them near -- or far -- had never impacted his emotions like this. They'd always been a temporary comfort. Whereas having Luke around is a surefire way to put Cash in a good mood.
"It's fine," he murmurs softly, smiling. "My childhood's just..."
Cash isn't sure how to finish that. Complicated? Luke deserves more than that answer. He tries again.
"My dad and I had a complicated relationship when I was a kid. He wanted me to become a preacher, like him. My mom wanted me to become that or a doctor. There were a lot of... expectations. Too many for me. So I ran away when I was a teenager. I didn't talk to them or see them for four years. Fell in with some... bad people. When my dad tracked me down, it was because I'd gotten arrested. He refused to bail me out. After that, even when I worked for the government, he was... disappointed. It was when I joined the War effort that we patched things up. I was finally doing something of worth, I guess, in their eyes."
He shrugs his shoulders lightly. It is what it is. His father had been too set on him following in his footsteps, and he hadn't known how to deal with that much responsibility at that age.
no subject
Luke snorts softly. "If I hadn't just met him I'd start to wonder if your dad and my uncle weren't the same person."
He's spoken about Uncle Owen a few times, told Cash that they never got along very well. Luke and Owen were just about polar opposites and they clashed constantly because of it. Owen was a bit of a homebody and believed in sticking to safe, tried and true methods, whereas Luke always likes to keep moving and trying new things. Owen stuck very close to the rules and Luke is always pushing the limits. Not because he wants to create trouble for anyone, but simply because he feels claustrophobic otherwise. There's always bigger and better things out there and Luke has to see what they are. It's just who he is.
And they were both incredibly stubborn, which just made the clashing that much worse. They had very different opinions and compromises very rarely happened. If it hadn't been for Aunt Beru's calm nature to mediate things, they would have driven each other crazy.
"He wanted me to stay at home and take over the moisture farm someday. Knowing me, you can probably imagine how much I would have enjoyed that." Luke scoffs softly and can't help rolling his eyes. Even though he was difficult to live with sometimes, Luke knows Owen was only trying to protect him. But he couldn't have honestly though that Luke would ever be content to live out his life on Tatooine. He knew Luke better than that. It must have eaten at him every day, knowing that he would likely fail to keep Luke around.
"But part of me thinks he'd be proud of me anyway, if he were still alive." At least, Luke hopes so. With Uncle Owen it was sometimes hard to tell. He cared deeply for Luke, but his actions were so often out of selfish, paranoid reasons.
Luke then lets out a quiet sigh through his nose and lifts his head to look at Cash. "And I still think you deserve so much better from your father. I hope I at least got him thinking."
no subject
"I'm sure he'd be proud of you. If he wasn't, I'd worry about his judgment," Cash says firmly. He looks less convinced as to his own father, but... maybe.
Maybe if they ever get back to their own respective universes, or another fluke like this happens. It makes him momentarily guilty that he was so ready to go with Luke to another universe. But only for that moment. If there's one thing this whole thing has taught him, it's that he's exceptionally comfortable with, and feels close to, Luke.
The fact that he was able to tell Luke about his early turmoil, without feeling exceptionally self-conscious, says volumes.
If that's where his life goes, then he's fine with that.
"I'm proud of you, and I don't even know how much we've known each other," he jokes. Thanks, kidnappings and lack of resources where they initially met.