How Green Becomes Wood

"If someone is apologizing to you, what would you rather them say? 'I am sorry if your feelings were hurt,' or 'I am sorry I hurt your feelings?'" Dark asked, carefully trying to get his son to understand not all apologies are created equally, "and I am not presuming you apologized poorly, but if someone apologized to you in a way which did not feel comforting, it would matter to you, yes? And..." He hesitated for a moment, taking time to collect the weeds as he collected his thoughts, "You seem to be presuming a lot about someone you claim to know very little about."
 
Xander looked at Dark in confusion. He was fairly certain he understood what Dark was saying, but he didn't know how to respond. Was he supposed to explain how he'd apologized and let Dark figure out if he'd said the right thing? He shook his head, choosing to skip the question. "He's got that same look in his eye as back when we first met. That's what I mean. That... far away look of a prisoner counting days until release. You know?"
 
"Of course I do." Dark replied, a grave note coming into his voice for only a second. "But that look only lasts until you have a reason to stay. You say he will not trust you again, because of what you said, but I think, Xander, or I know, that trust can be rebuilt. Not always, but unless you are obscuring some fact from me, I doubt anything you did was so severe you cannot grow from it. Do you want to be his friend, still? Do you want to further that relationship? Because if you do, and you fear you have broken his trust, then you have to put in the work and prove to him nothing like that will happen again. Even if it does not work, then at least you know. If you give up now, you will never know if there was a path to redemption."
 
Xander shrugged as he finished cleaning up the weed mess. He didn't really want to answer Dark's question, and the "path to redemption" sounded like a hokey line from a novel or something. He knew Dark was speaking truth, and he did need to either figure things out with Milo or let it go, but that wasn't what truly bothered him. Milo was important, but he was really just a distraction in this case. He didn't want to talk about it, but Dark, of anyone, would understand. He walked near the fence and gave the nearest post a little kick.

"Doesn't matter," he finally said. "Milo and me, we're big boys. We can deal with a bit of pain and heal up. Doesn't matter if we get hurt. It's just us."
 
"It does matter," Dark argued without hesitation. "Even if you can deal with it, and I know you can, it does matter if you get hurt. It is generally good advice to try to avoid pain, but it is impossible to do so completely, and it matters when it happens. And if you are hurting, it is okay to talk about it. It helps, sometimes, to get it out of your head."
 
"Talking about it just makes it worse. It brings it to the surface where it hurts other people," Xander snorted. "I'm used to hurting. It's fine. I'm tired of hurting other people with me. I felt like I finally had it under control, and then it all crashed."
 
"Suppressing your feelings means you are not dealing with them, and if you are not dealing with them, then, of course when they emerge it is explosive. Even if you are used to hurting, why would you want to keep feeling that way, when you do not have to? Why choose pain?" Dark asked, walking up to stand beside Xander again.
 
"Because maybe it's better that way," Xander shot back, his brows knit in a scowl. "Maybe it's better to go in than out. Maybe it's right. It's a hell of a lot better to ignore and never deal with than to let it out and hurt people. You and Mum have already been hurt enough, don't you think? But you're big kids. You can deal. What about the ones that can't?"
 
"Better for who?" Dark asked, remaining as calm as he ever was, "Do you understand that when you are hurting yourself, that also hurts others? Suffering in silence is still suffering, and the people who care for you do not want you to suffer, Xander. It pains us regardless, and pains us more when it feels there is nothing we can do to help." He paused, his eyes searching Xander's face for a moment before taking a breath and asking, "Who do you think cannot 'deal'?"
 
Xander shoved his hands into his pockets so hard he heard a couple of stitches pop. He turned away, scuffing the ground with his foot irritably and with a hint of anxiety. He almost didn't answer. He almost walked away. But Dark deserved an answer. Better to know now rather than later, he supposed. "Mini," he finally mumbled unhappily, the word feeling as though it was dragged out.
 
Of all names, that was the one he expected the least, and the surprise, for once, was clear on his face, at least briefly. Then he took a breath to compose himself and his thoughts, and then asked in a low, gentle tone, "How do you think you will hurt her?"
 
As usual, the shrug was Xander's response. "Dunno," he mumbled, "but I will. I hurt everybody. Why do you think she'd be different? Special? It'll happen. Thought maybe it wouldn't, but Milo proved it."
 
"I do not think you hurt everybody, first of all." Dark replied, "It is normal to argue with your friends and with your family, nobody gets along all of the time. It is unrealistic. Alec had a massive fight with Sloan last year, remember? It was I would guess more severe than what happened between yourself and Milo, and they are still friends, yes? Even if you and Ivy fight some day, it will not be the end of the world." He inhaled again, leaning against the fence, "And it is normal to be afraid of hurting her. I have been afraid of that since," he gestured, "conception, I suppose. But if I have learned anything, in all of these years, it is that Hurt People hurt people. And if you want to limit the chances you will do harm to someone else, you have to work on yourself first. It is why Daizi and myself go to therapy, it is why she meditates and I journal and paint. You cannot live if you are afraid of yourself and it is impossible to expect the elastic never to snap if you try to keep every negative feeling locked down."
 
Xander pushed his hands into his pockets harder, shifting away from Dark and slowly ambling away as he thought about what Dark had said. He didn't want to deal with it. He didn't want to face it. A part of him knew what Dark said was right, but in a strange way, trying to deal with the pain hurt worse than just letting it be. Did that make sense? Was that common for people? He didn't know. If what Dark was saying, probably yes, but it hurt to face himself. It hurt to try to correct himself, and to actively deal with the pain inside. That was what really made the journal hard. It was just a book, but it was surprisingly hard to lie to it. To lie to himself.
 
After allowing Xander some time to wander off on his own, Dark followed after him, leaving some distance between them (even though doing so meant walking at a painfully slow pace). "You are not alone in it. However you may feel. It is up to you to decide what to do with how you feel inside, but I hope you understand I used to be where you are now. I understand how uncomfortable it is. But it does not stay like this."
 
Xander stopped and turned just enough to look at Dark sideways. "You're sure it doesn't? You just said you worried about hurting her since ever. What makes it different?" His tone was doubtful, not challenging, which, for him, was an improvement.
 
"I worry about hurting her not because I have a continued track record of hurting others, but because she is... new, and fragile, and I know eventually she will be hurt by someone, and I do not want to be the first one to do it." Dark explained slowly and carefully, shifting his weight. This, more than anything he said during their conversation was difficult for him, because it was the most new, "And because nobody is ever 'healed,' they are always still 'healing,' and something like this can... jostle some things that seemed put away loose again. And you have to deal with that. And it is frustrating and uncomfortable, but I promise it does not feel like it did before you began putting the work in. I feel things I could not feel when I was sixteen. Some of the feelings are not positive emotions, I will not lie to you, but I can cope with those feelings instead of turning that anger against others or against myself."
 
Xander grunted and turned away, wandering again because he needed to move. He needed motion in order to keep his mind organized and not going crazy. Continually healing. Was no one ever really and truly healed? That was depressing. Not as depressing as being in a state of constant pain, he supposed, but still depressing. Maybe it'd be less depressing once he was more healed or whatever. Maybe he did just need to let more people help him, but he had no idea how to actually do that. He supposed just sticking with the journal and forcing himself to write would be enough for now. If Dark said it was worth it... he trusted him enough to believe it.

"Okay," he said to Dark and turned toward the house.
 
"I guess I'll keep doing the journal thing and talk to Milo again," Xander mumbled. "Keep trying and all that." He scowled and hunched his shoulders. "I don't have to pretend to like it, do I?"
 
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