How Green Becomes Wood

Dark stood uncomfortably, having so many more questions to ask while feeling he couldn't voice a single one without damaging his relationship with his son. "Right. Well." He smoothed one hand down the front of his shirt, "Thank you for showing me this." He wanted to offer to build a set of drawers for some... of this... but he feared it would only enable Alec to collect more. "I should probably begin preparing dinner, but I enjoyed seeing what you are working on."
 
Alec brightened and smiled at his father. "Thanks for coming to see it! I'm glad you like it. I know, having this many unfinished projects is probably giving you the willies, but I promise I'm working through them! I should finish my homework. I'm a little behind. Not bad, just a little."
 
"Yes, you should get caught up on your homework. School should be your biggest priority right now." Dark replied, squeezing him on the shoulder before turning and going downstairs, knowing he needed to have a conversation with his wife before doing anything else.
 
Alec left the door open and took the time to carefully put everything back where it went. Or, at least, pushed it around so that it did not encroach upon Xander's carefully guarded space so he wouldn't get mad. Then he sat on the limited space on his bed and got to work, satisfied and feeling very happy with what he'd shown Dark.

About half an hour later, Xander pulled up outside and headed to the door. He paused on the front porch to take off his work boots and left them outside. He'd washed them before leaving the stables, but they still smelled a little "funky." "Hey, I'm home," he called, stepping inside. He touched the salt and pulled off his jacket. "Anybody else home?"
 
"Daizi?" Dark asked walking downstairs and seeking out his wife. His decision to use her real name caught her attention and she quickly came around to meet him.

"What happened?"

"I am worried about Alec," He told her, speaking softly and touching her waist to guide her somewhere more private. It didn't matter if Ivy heard them, but he didn't want his son to, especially now that he spoke some Arabic. "I know we are always worried about Alec, but this is different."

"Different how?" She asked, sitting down with him, her sense of enduring dread bubbling back up inside her. The look on her face made him doubt his decision to come to her immediately with this, but he couldn't keep it secret from her. It wouldn't help her if he had and he was too deeply bothered by what he had seen to wait. This didn't strike him as a minor problem. As he explained the situation, she rubbed her hands over her face, feeling the same anxiety he felt over this behavior of Alec's. It wasn't healthy, that was clear. But solving it seemed well beyond their skill or knowledge. It made sense, both understood how something like this could happen, but like Daizi expressed a few times in their conversation--it hadn't been that long since they last went into the twin's room and this wasn't something that happened overnight. How could they miss this?

Clearly, they needed some way to limit what Alec brought home, but they only felt like they could only sort of prevent what he collected from Tristan. What he collected from elsewhere...?

"Maybe we can organize some sort of garage sale?" Daizi offered, feeling lost while Dark got his laptop to look for advice from others who had dealt with similar, "Ivy has out grown enough clothes, I have my maternity clothes and most of the pencil skirts I used to wear for meetings because I don't think those will ever fit my hips again, and I'm sure we can go through to find figurines and... whatever... that we aren't that attached to? If Xander also has belongings to get rid of, he may feel... obligated? To get rid of at least some things. I don't know."

"It might be a bit late in the season for a garage sale," Dark pointed out, although it was as good a start as anything.

By the time Xander came home, they weren't any more at ease and the atmosphere was tense and heavy. "We're in the living room," Daizi called out in response to him."
 
"No, no," Daizi assured him, gesturing for him to come sit, "You didn't do anything, habibi."

"I went inside your bedroom today. I saw some of your brother's... projects. It has gotten a bit crowded in there, has it not?" Dark asked, turning on instrumental music to further obscure their voices.
 
"Oh," Xander said, relaxing. "Yeah, he's got a lot of junk in there." He walked over, made certain the seat of his pants were clean, and plopped down into a seat. "At least he's been keeping it on his side of the room, and thanks to the wardrobe, I don't have glitter and sequins all over my clothes."
 
Xander shrugged. "Doesn't matter if it bothers me. I'm used to it. It's what happens when two people with different personalities share a room, isn't it? As long as he keeps his stuff away from my bed, I can deal. I've got my shed, at least."
 
Daizi turned her face towards him, "It's okay if it does bother you. Xander..." She hesitated for a few moments before saying, "We don't think it's healthy. So if it negatively affects you... that would be good for us to know."
 
Xander looked away and lightly tapped his hand on the arm of the chair. "I don't... like it," he said slowly, frowning fiercely. "I don't really care that much because it's not different... It's just... the way it is." He shifted, trying to find the words. For once, he was trying not to hurt feelings, but he wasn't sure how to say what he wanted without doing so. "It doesn't really matter to me because in there is... it's just another part of the house," he finally settled on awkwardly.
 
Dark glanced at Daizi and then back at Xander, "Nothing you say to us will be repeated to anyone. I promise. If it genuinely does not bother you, then it does not bother you. But it made me itchy being in there for the short time I was."
 
Xander growled softly and pulled a hand through his hair. "It makes me insane. It's not just his room," he finally blurted. "It's this whole place! Our room is the worst, but everything is everywhere all at once and it's just too much!" He caught himself as his voice rose and leaned over a little, forcing himself to breathe as he rubbed his hand on the arm of the chair. "What's the difference between there and here? No one else seems bothered, so it's just my problem," he muttered.

He didn't mean it as an accusation. He'd never fully thought about this situation before beyond just the irritation of trying to guard his space, but now he did realize that, yes, being home was often stressful even when it was calm, but why now? He was trying to understand why only now was this issue getting attention when he'd seen it for so long. When he'd been feeling stressed about it for so long, but not just with his own room. With his whole home. Was it really a problem? Was it not healthy? Was his problem or Alec's? What made their crowded room any different than the rest of the house?
 
Dark and Daizi both paused, listening to him. It took a few moments before either of them spoke up. Eventually, Dark decided to say, "I would say the difference is down here, everything has its place. We never need to move things in order to sit on the couch or clear the table before being able to use it. We also bring things home with a purpose, not only to have things."

"And," Daizi added, feeling it was important, "We are able to get rid of things we no longer need or like."
 
"But." Xander stopped short and once again ran his hand through his hair before looking up, not at his parents, but at the walls around him. He hadn't realized until that moment how much he actively avoided looking at all the things around him. He came down here and spent time because he wanted to be with his family and he liked being near them even if they were not actively involved in a joint activity, but this space... All of it. The house as a whole. He looked around at the pictures on the walls, the deep, bold colors, the items on every shelf, all of it positioned just so and spaced out cleanly, but there were things and items everywhere he looked. Nowhere for his eye to rest. He dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "There's just so much of it," he finally said. "I can't breathe. Not in my own room. But I have my corner. He lets me have my corner. It needs to be enough."
 
"I don't know!" Xander growled in agitation. He finally looked up at Dark and Daizi. "I don't know what would help because I don't know what's wrong with me. It's fine! Everything is fine! Except it's not, and I don't know why." He looked away again, tapping his hand. "Stuff and junk make him happy. He wants his stuff. I don't want the stuff. There's too much to-" He stopped short and frowned. "To take with us," he said slowly, understanding a small sliver of his frustration as he did so. "He always had to take his stuff. He had the bigger backpack. He cried every time we had to leave something behind. It was all precious to him. Now there's definitely too much stuff to pack. I can't help him take it."
 
"Nothing is wrong with you," Daizi told Xander firmly. "You're allowed..." She sighed, not knowing what else to say.

"I was afraid it was something like that." Dark admitted, frowning down at his walls. The part of himself who wanted to give everything to his children wanted to suggest taking some of his decorations down, but the part of himself who knew he was justified to keep his home decorated to his presence was annoyed at that new pressure. It was his home as much as it was anyone else's. "Look, Daizi and I have to intervene about your bedroom, because it is only going to get worse."
 
"He's going to freak," Xander muttered, rubbing his forehead. "It needs it, but he'll freak. It's all very precious and important. I don't care if he's got more stuff, and I... need to... learn deeper, you know, that I don't gotta pack it up. Thought I was over that. I just... want a little space. But I've got my shed. At least I've got there. He doesn't have a shed. Thank whatever diety for that."
 
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