How Green Becomes Wood

"That sounds like quite the conundrum, and not one I have an easy answer for." Dark admitted sympathetically. He took a deep breath, spending more time thinking carefully about Xander's problem before asking, "What is it that you like about Judo?"
 
Xander fiddled with his fingers a bit before leaning back. "It's okay. You don't have to have an answer for everything. I like that... It's fighting, but it's not. It's not bloodying each other up and breaking stuff. It's control. Power. Leverage. Hard work, but being mindful. Not letting your feelings rule what you do."
 
"Fighting but not." Dark repeated, looking up at the ceiling as he thought it through, "So Boxing, which is the only other combat sport I could think of which does not involve skin-to-skin tough, would not work as an alternative. And I suppose, if you competed, then it may be less mindful? Because then..." He trailed off with a shrug, "Do you think the physicality of it is important to you? The ability to feel the other person?"
 
"I dunno." Xander shook his head. "I'm paid up through the month, so I'm going to stick with it at least until then, but maybe I'll take a break and think about it." He glanced at Dark. "What about your stuff? Still got time to work on it with the Mini?"
 
"I think that is a wise choice." Dark replied, and then rolled his shoulders back, "What I do in the basement? I think it is the one thing I force myself to make time for. I would lose my mind if I quit it. It is difficult to find the time." He unconsciously put one hand over his abdomen, able to guess the result of going from someone who exercised at his caliber to someone sedentary, "Many of my coworkers warned me I would come back from paternity leave... significantly less fit. It worried me."
 
Xander snickered at that. "I don't see that happening for a hundred years or so." He glanced at Dark curiously. "How come you do it like that, anyway? Lot of guys I know do it for bragging rights and girls, but that's not you. At least, not entirely. Maybe for one girl."
 
"I was really skinny for a very long time." Dark replied, furrowing his eyebrows, "I looked... like a Tim Burton character. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, it works well enough for someone like me. And it works for people who are interested in someone like me." He cracked the tiniest smile and exhaled, still looking up at his vaulted ceiling, enjoying some distant memory. But then it fades, like it always did, "But at the same time... I think I got into fights for similar reasons you did, if you will forgive me guessing at your motivations. I wanted to regain something. I was pushed around all the time, treated like I was worthless. My mother used to tell me---" He almost said something, but then stopped himself, and said, "and while it is true I had many, many times where people assaulted me, because I was an easy target, because I was an Arab and that alone put a target on my back, because I was strange and depressed, because I did not speak fluently so people believed I was stupid... All of that, all of that made people kick me into the dirt. But I also picked fights, because I knew I'd be hurt, and I felt like I deserved it, and because when I won, because I did sometimes, I felt so---"

He inhaled deeply, "I suppose it felt like I was hitting everyone who had hit me. And when you are this tall, even when you are skinny, you have some decent amount of strength, because you need it to move your bones. But I never felt strong. And when I looked at myself---I only saw this boy. So, I took all of this anger, directed at myself and the world, my distaste for how I looked, and how clothes fit me, and my desire to feel in control and I put it somewhere. It did not fix all of my problems, or most of them, but it gave a different sort of pain, and I needed that. I did not start putting my energy in that direction until after high school, and it helped. It was productive, and even though I still used my... other coping mechanisms for awhile after... I think it is what helped me to stop using them. Now it's still partly that, but also I enjoy it, and I like looking how I do now. I like feeling strong. There are other parts of it too... But it is complicated. All of it is complicated. I like knowing that if the house was knocked down on us, I could dig you all out."
 
Dark wasn't wrong about Xander's motivation in his fights, though Xander didn't mention it. He frowned in thought, shoving his foot along the floor slowly. "It makes sense," he said at last. "It's a good thing to turn your focus on, too. I guess I feel a little calmer when I work out, too. It's not my focus, I want functioning muscles. I guess I could always help you dig out the house, too. I... like being stronger. It feels good. But not just to be strong. That's not my thing."
 
"Having functioning muscles and strength is very much a benefit for me, too," Dark replied, "I suppose it is difficult to narrow down my focus. My wife likes it. But she liked me before, too." Dark took looked at the anterior side of his forearm, seeing both his musculature and the remnants of scars carefully hidden beneath and incorporated into his tattoos. Then, he breathed a heavy breath and said, "Not just too be strong? What else drives you, my son? To protect?"
 
"I understand that." Dark replied softly, turning his hand over and looking at his wedding ring, "I really do." He fell silent for awhile, looking at the ring on his hand with his heavy eyebrows casting shadows over the rest of this face. Then, he sat back again, looking once more at Xander, "But at some point, you will need to rest. You made it this far. I think you have earned a rest."
 
Xander eyed Dark speculatively. "I guess, but I don't know that I know how, and... I'm not sure you know how, either." His words could have been accusatory, but he meant them in blunt honesty. Dark always seemed so... on guard to him. Not stressed or waiting for an enemy strike, but prepared for it.
 
"I don't think that'll work," Xander said, not thinking about the words as he said them. "There's no way I could reach you, forget pass you. Not a chance. But I guess it doesn't hurt to give resting a try. Somehow." He snorted in amusement. "Maybe Uncle Tristan could teach me how to arrange flowers. I read once Japanese Samari did that, and it's supposed to be like art and relaxing and stuff."
 
Hearing what his son said about him made Dark's throat tighten and he forced himself to look away for a moment before looking back at Xander and telling him, "I think in some ways, you already have. You..." He spun his ring around his finger, and stayed looking at Xander as he tried to find his words, "You are more receptive to change, than I was. And I think you are much less selfish than I was, too. And if you are already both of those things..." He exhaled, turning away again as he felt his chest squeeze, but only for a moment before looking back, "I do hope you can learn to rest when you are young, also. Because you are safe here. You have made it inside the walls you have been searching for." Then, with his muted smile said, "Do anything you like. Or nothing at all. Sometimes it is lovely, doing absolutely nothing important. Or so I have been told."
 
Xander didn't know how to react to Dark's reaction. Even after two years, he still struggled to process these sorts of emotions from others, especially Dark. He didn't say anything for a bit, listening to what Dark said and mulling it over despite the slight flush in his cheeks. "I guess I could try doing nothing important. It sounds boring," he admitted. "Worth a shot."
 
"There is a song that Daizi listens to... It says it is difficult to write about happiness, because happiness is an extremely uneventful subject. There can be no ballad written about two people sitting and doing nothing. I think some of the most peaceful moments in my life have been when I was sitting with Daizi, or with Cooger, or both of them, and that was all. Sometimes, that is all you need." Dark smiled softly, "If only you remember to exhale and unclench your jaw."
 
"Exhale and unclench my jaw?" Xander repeated. "Sounds like something my therapist says when we're working with the horses."

Alec came down still brushing his hair. "Much better! Love a good shower."
 
"It is good advice, although difficult to take." Dark said, "I try to remind myself throughout the day to unclench my jaw. I am going to end up grinding my teeth away, and I already struggled through many years at the dentist after coming to the US."

When Alec came downstairs, Dark nodded towards him, "Just do not forget to bring your brush back upstairs. Ivy will surely try to eat it, and I do not want her to choke on your hair."
 
Xander made a face. He hated the dentist possibly more than any other type of check-up. They couldn't not be handsy and in his face! Literally in his face.

Alec looked at his brush. "That is a disturbing thought," he stated. "I'll be careful with it."
 
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