How Green Becomes Wood

Daizi was pulled out of the song when Alec spoke, and leaving the song off as it was said, "It is sad, and then it gets more sad, but then I think it ends well. The final verse is 'Love what you have, and you'll have more love. You're not dying. Everybody knows you're going to love, though there's still no cure for crying.' So it's a bit wistful, but that's okay. It's called 'Firewood', and it's by Regina Spektor, she's wonderful, and sometimes a little weird." She turned towards the doorway as Xander called out. Then standing up and stretching told Alec, "You really need to stop losing your phone. But I'm glad dinner's ready, I'm starving."

Downstairs, Dark was setting the table. When Xander had asked what the point of a sleepover, he had simply shrugged--he wasn't Peter, he didn't know why the kid wanted to have one.
 
"I don't think I understand it," Alec said, putting back the piano bench. He followed Daizi and clarified, "The song, not about losing my phone, although I don't know how I lose my phone, either. I don't understand the song or really why you like it."

Xander spotted the pair and tossed Alec his phone. "No sleepovers. We don't have enough space." He turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Alec watched him go, puzzled. "Sleepovers? Why would I want to have a sleepover? Nevermind, I'll figure that out later." He tucked his phone safely in his pocket.
 
"You haven't heard the full song, you might understand it a bit more if you did. Or you might not be old enough yet to really 'get it,' but I don't know. It could just not be your kind of music, and that's okay. Oh." She brought her hands to her middle and laughed lightly, "She likes it though. The sound vibrations, I guess. I think she might feel the vibrations when I play because I have to hold the harp against my body. Or she's telling me to hurry up, get downstairs, and eat already."

She followed Xander down to the kitchen and said, "I think we have plenty of space, or I'm smaller than I thought." She didn't know what made him think about sleepovers, and if he didn't want one, she wasn't going to make him have one, but he knew their house wasn't exactly tiny.
 
"Oh, she definitely feels and hears the vibrations," Alec nodded. "How could she not? Fluid is a great-"

"Oi! Not before eating!" Xander demanded, putting his hands over his ears.

Alec smiled and waited until they were all in the kitchen sitting down.

Xander glanced at Daizi in confusion when she mentioned the space. "I guess we have lots of room," he said slowly. "Why are- oh, the sleepover, right? Well, one room is kind of small for three boys."
 
"She can't hear the vibrations yet because her ears aren't strong enough yet," Daizi explained, and to Xander softly, "I hope that's not too much for you to hear."

At the table, Dark of course pulled Daizi's chair out for her, and as she sat down he said, "You could sleep in the living room. And Peter may invite you to his home instead. He called you, by the way, I do not know if Xander had said. I did not answer because he was not calling me."

"It's nice that Peter wants to have a sleepover," Daizi grinned, "dinner smells amazing. Did you make koshari?"

"Xander did, actually. I helped a little bit, but mostly it was him."

Daizi turned quickly to him with wide eyes, and being a little mushy said, "You made this? Oh my god, Xander, that's so so kind of you. Thank you."
 
Alec was surprised to hear Dark didn't answer his phone even though he knew he shouldn't be. It was just so considerate of his privacy. He smiled a little but didn't answer. He'd call Peter back right after dinner. A sleepover? Sleeping in the living room? He wasn't sure if he'd like it, but it was such a novel idea! First, he'd have to talk Xander into agreeing.

Xander turned bright red at the compliment. "Well, you know, everyone has to eat," he mumbled, eyes on his plate. "Just wanted to feed people. Like me. And everyone." He started shoveling food into his mouth at high speed, partly out of habit and partly so he had an excuse not to say anything.
 
"I know..." She replied, fully open about how touched and grateful she was, "but you could've made anything. You chose to make my comfort food. It's a wonderful thing you did." Daizi took a bite of it and then beamed at him, "It's really delicious."

Dark reached over and squeezed her shoulder, and she grinned at him too. He always sat at the head of the table, not because of any notions of "the man's seat," but because Daizi liked to sit on the long edge of the rectangular table because it gave her slightly more space, and she was extremely tactile and couldn't just gaze at him, so wasn't going to sit on the opposite side of the table from her. But, he also wasn't going to sit next to her, because he liked to look at her, and sitting directly next to her limited his view. Sitting on the corner was the perfect compromise, although they both knew, without needing to speak about it, when the baby was old enough for a high chair, she was being placed at the head of the table, so they could each have easy access to her.

She wanted to comment, happily, about how the baby also probably loved the taste, but knew it would probably make Xander pass out, so she refrained.
 
Xander polished off his plate before answering. "I don't actually know what the professor's comfort food is other than not American," he grumbled, pretending to be rather put out. "But since I did know yours, I thought it was a pretty good bet that making you happy would make him happy. You two are complete saps like that."

Alec giggled and then looked at Dark curiously. "What is your comfort food?" he wondered. "Mine is grilled cheese with the really melty orange stuff that hardly seems like cheese! And tomato soup."
 
When Xander expressed that he made her favourite food to make Dark happy, Daizi sort of squeaked and squeezed Dark's bicep, in a motion clearly saying it was for you! but Dark just squinted at Xander and said, "You say that as if you do not feel joy when someone or something makes your brother smile. Either we are both saps or it is normal to feel positively about your loved one feeling happy."

"No, stop," She whined, burrowing her face against him, "it's sweet, they're such sweet boys. See," she sat up straight again, "this is why we have to have a girl, because how is a new baby boy supposed to compete with them?"

Dark wrapped his arm around Daizi half from how cute he found her when she was like this and half from trying to settle her, and he noted that the food Xander spoke about earlier happened to be his brother's favourite, and he said, "My favourite comfort food is a soup Tarot makes called Molokhia, but she is cruel and only makes it under very specific circumstances. Because she wants me to suffer."

"No, because if you break Soup Code then it loses its power," Daizi argued, "you know that."

He frowned at her, but she was immovable, "I suppose failing the greatest soup ever made by god or man, Tepsi baytinijan. There was a woman in Baghdad who would make it for her children, but always save a piece for me, even though I wasn't the slightest bit related to her. It was full of eggplants and meatballs and it is wonderful."

Here, Daizi was in agreement with him, "I've never had that particular woman's, but it is very nice."
 
Xander felt very much like he wanted to disappear. Let the floor eat him, or poof into another dimension, or literally anything to escape this sudden flood of fuzzy feel-goods. His face remained bright red, and he slumped as low in his seat as he could manage, strongly considering climbing under the table if necessary. It was too soon to start clearing up. He was the first one finished by a long shot, and the others still needed to eat. He still filed away "molokhia" in his mind to look up later. A soup that good had to be a challenge, and he liked challenges. "Tepsi baytinijan" could happen too, he supposed.

Alec, on the other hand, watched curiously. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Daizi this animated! Maybe not since early in their arrival. "What is the soup code?" he demanded, leaning forward. "Why can't you break it? What happens if you break it?"
 
"Okay, so," She leaned forwards, resting her arms on the table, "the version of molokhia I make isn't exactly and entirely traditional, it's a family recipe, and we've modified it in certain ways, which I will not reveal, because the first part of the Soup Code is it's passed down mother to daughter. My mother died giving birth to me, so it might've been lost forever, because my Amty Neha, my only true maternal aunt, as in, the only one who is my mother's sister, only had sons, but my grandmother was still alive, and everyone had been saying there was no way I could learn to cook, but Jadda believed in me, so I learned it from her. So the recipe is secret, and I don't even think anyone has it written down, it's memorized, and we have no idea how old it even is. But here's the thing: we only make it when someone is ill, and you can only have it for the first time if you're the one who is sick. After that, when it's been made, if you've already had it once while sick, you're welcome to eat it."

"It revivifies you." Dark said, in deep longing for this soup.

"But I can only make it when someone is sick, because if I make it just whenever, it loses its potency and its power, because then it's not the special meal that comes out when you feel like you're dying, it's just what you have whenever you beg enough for it. I can't teach anyone else how to make it, unless I have a daughter, and right now I'm the only person in this country who knows the recipe," She had, on occasion, stretched the bounds of the Soup Code when someone she cared about was really struggling with their mental health, and when someone was recovering from surgery, even if they weren't technically ill, like when one of her trans masc friends had top surgery, she'd make it, "and I think everyone knows better than to fake an illness to get the soup, because if I care enough about them to make them soup when they're unwell, I hope they care enough about me not to lie to me to trick me into breaking my rule."
 
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"I think I'll go stand outside in just my underthings the next time it rains at night," Alec said contemplatively.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. Now you've planted ideas in his head. That sounds like a really dangerous soup, if you ask me."

"Which no one did, and I think it sounds wonderful!" Alec retorted.

Xander stood and started cleaning off the table. "Says the person currently trying to figure out how to get sick so he can have a bowl of soup. Nope, sorry, no soup os that good."

"Says the person who's never had it," pointed out Alec. He got up and started clearing up with Xander. "At least this stuff makes lots of leftovers! It'll be perfect for lunch tomorrow."

"That's because I accidentally made too much, but I won't be doing that often," Xander said as he and Alec carried the plates to the sink.
 
"You can't intentionally make yourself sick to try my soup," Daizi said laughing, "the whole point is the soup makes you feel better. If you made yourself sick to try it, it's not the same."

When Xander said no soup is that good, Dark, rather uncharacteristically, nearly spasmed and, looking mortally wounded, and he spoke sort of like Elrond warning against the power of the ring in total sincerity, "It is that good! Wallah, I swear by god!"

"It's magical." Daizi sparkled. For her, although she liked how it tasted, but her love of it was more about what it did for others. Nobody had made her the soup since she was a kid, and now there was nobody who could if they wanted to, so it had been decades since she had felt healed by it.
 
Xander eyed Dark warily. He was beginning to wonder what exactly was in that soup to make Dark respond that way, but there was no way he was going to ask. Instead, he just made a mental note not to say anything bad about anyone's soup ever for fear of causing some kind of heart attack.

"I wonder if it works on people who are soul-sick?" Alec mused. "We could try giving it to our aunt."

Xander nearly dropped the plate he was holding. "You're not serious. You've never even met the woman!"

"No, but I could hear her voice when she came by. She didn't sound well," Alec said calmly.

Xander turned away, soured by the thought. "Next you'll be saying we should give it to Declan."

"No, I don't think he's earned it," Alec replied, still absolutely calm as he loaded the plates into the dishwasher. "And he's not soul-sick. Not like that."
 
"I've made it in times like that before," Daizi admitted, rubbing Dark's back, "but it's tricky when I don't know someone well. It's a very personal thing to make something like that for a person. It's not a miracle cure, it just..." She hesitated, because she could envision the warmth of the gesture, and what it might mean. But it didn't feel right making the soup for a stranger before making it for her boys.

"The gesture of making her anything might do wonders, soup or no soup. And it may be more meaningful coming from you," Dark suggested, having fully composed himself once more.
 
"I think you're right," Alec said happily. He started wiping down the table and making certain it was as clean as Dark would want it.

Xander sighed and closed the dishwasher. "Alright, fine, since we're talking about it, kind of... what are we doing about Declan?"

Alec's vigorous wipings hesitated then continued with renewed vigor.
 
Both Dark and Daizi also froze with the question. Everything had felt so normal and happy again that recalling they'd need to deal with him again stung. It was true it was important to talk about, but it was still unpleasant.

"If you would like to see him again, we will tell him and find the right time and place." Dark said, because he knew that he should.

"And we'll be more... understanding, with him."
 
Xander and Alec exchanged a look, and at Alec's nod, Xander said, "Yeah. We should meet him again. Still somewhere out there, public and all that."

"Not that either of us think he's going to try to steal us or anything untoward, it just feels safer and more... fair," Alec said.

Xander nodded. "He's not the best, but he wasn't the worst, so we'll give him another try."
 
Dark nodded, trying to ignore the knots in his stomach, "Okay. Do you have a preference as to when? I have to call him."

"Ask him for his cellphone number," Daizi requested, "I hate having to go through the motel." She was ashamed, but to some extent she hoped they'd choose to go during the week, because it meant she could go to work instead, but it wasn't right or fair of her to want that. She didn't wan the twins to feel like she didn't care and she couldn't leave Dark to fend for himself.
 
"I don't think we have anything going on the rest of the week, so... Monday, I guess," Xander shrugged. "Maybe in the afternoon?"

Alec nodded. "That's much better than tomorrow. We have things to do." He paused. "I think."

"We'll find something to do," Xander agreed.
 
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