How Green Becomes Wood

"Alright, then just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll get on it," Xander told him.

When they got home, Xander took his new cactus up to their room - after making sure Amty Zeinab was not using the room - and situated it getnly on the windowsill next to his first cactus. First, he had to move a stack of Alec's books out of the way. Putting the new one next to the old, he realized how much his little Mince had grown, and he felt a sense of pride. It was still alive, it was growing, and it even seemed to be thriving! He nodded in satisfaction and then went back downstairs to help wherever he could.
 
When Dark stepped inside, he froze to the spot. The house was... clean? Cleaner than he left it, anyway. There were some things which still needed doing, but much of it had been completed. His brain couldn't quite compute it. Carefully taking off his shoes and walking further into the house, as though he believed the mirage would vanish, he went into the kitchen where he found a note written in Arabic:

I'm visiting with Neha, Amira, and Fadia. I hope you do not mind I cleaned up a bit. Love, Amty Zeinab.
 
Meanwhile, at the shop, Tristan was not having the best day. Alec helped him get the front display cleaned up and rearranged, and it was not a big deal to lose what had been there before. He had not put out anything too expensive, but it still irked him that people would find it okay to destroy part of someone else's business, part of their belongings. He also had little doubt that he and his brothers would have done similar. He tried to put it past himself and move on.

Then the receipt machine decided it did not want to work any longer.

The zero key on the register stopped functioning for three different transactions until it decided to start working again.

Alec accidentally mixed up two flower prices and sold a cheaper flower as a more expensive one, and Tristan had to chase the people down to make the change.

Two women came in separately and claimed that their flowers had died the next day despite following the care instructions perfectly. He had a statement on every sale that there were no refunds or exchanges since he had no way of knowing how the flowers were treated after they left his store. One he was able to withstand until she left without a refund. The other would not be pacified. She refused to believe there were no refunds or exchanges. She didn't want a replacement when he finally broke down and offered it to him, even scoffing about him being a liar when he'd previously said no refunds or exchanges. She threatened to sue, though he could not for the life of him figure exactly what for. The early death of flowers that did not have a guarantee? Eventually, he had to sternly ask her to leave. It did not work. He had to ask her four times, and eventually she scolded herself out and left in a self-righteous huff.

He managed to take a couple of minutes to calm down, but then someone came in for a wedding consultation. He'd forgotten it was scheduled for today. A bride and an overbearing mother-in-law. He wasn't even getting married and he was feeling the stress of the woman. Still, he managed to find some compromises that worked for everyone and wrote in an order for lace to work into the bouquets.

Then Alec accidentally knocked over one vase display and then a second when he tried to save the first. He missed both. Tristan told him it was fine and that he wouldn't take it out of his pay, but a headache throbbed in the back of his skull.

Then a piece of ivy got completely wrapped up in his wheel and he didn't notice until the wheel stopped spinning. He had to transfer to a regular chair in order to get his wheel untangled.

"Alright," Tristan said with a sigh after they'd gotten everything fixed. "Let's close up a little early. We have some work to do."

"Great!" Alec chirped, clapping his hands. "What do you need me to do first?" He wasn't going to admit it, but he was highly worried about everything that had gone wrong today. At least half of it was his fault. Tristan could have seen the ivy, but it was his job to keep the floors clean. He was pretty certain the key had gotten stuck because of a crumb from a cookie he'd been eating. It wasn't his job, but he could have reminded Tristan or made some kind of comment about the wedding consultation. He'd remembered it that morning. A lot had gone wrong today, even things that weren't his fault. He needed to make up for lost time and help make things right!

"First, we need to get all the hanging plants down from the rack up there," Tristan said, pointing. "I noticed last time I watered that the rack seemed a little shaky. I just want to take them all down and put them in the back room until I can get someone to come and fix it."

"I can do that, no problem!" Alec assured him, stepping up to the first plant. He had to stand on his tiptoes to reach it properly, but he could just reach.

"You might need a step stool," Tristan remarked, watching Alec uneasily.

Alec lifted the first pot up and got the hook to detach from the metal framing above. "No, I can reach. You know, this would have been the perfect job for my dad!" He cackled in delight at the idea and moved to the next pot. "He'd have this done in no time."

"Are you sure you - I really think you should get a stool," Tristan said worriedly.

Alec frowned, focused on the pot in his hands. "Don't worry, I got it. This one is just a bit... stuck... Come on!" The rack above rattled.

"Alec!" Tristan yelped, holding out a hand hopelessly.

Alec thought he saw how the hook was stuck and gave a quick tug. Something above snapped. One side of the metal rack came down with a squeal of metal. Alec stumbled backward, narrowly missing getting hit. Pots shattered down around him. Vases crashed. Flowers flew through the air. Alec stood on one side of the slanted rack and Tristan on the other.

"Idiot!" Tristan snapped, swatting daffodils off of himself. "I told you to stop! You needed a stool! How could you be so stupid?"

"I'm sorry!" Alec gasped, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll clean it up. I'll stay all night. You can take it all out of my pay. I'm sorry!" He dropped to his knees and tried to pick up the large shards of vases and pots.

"Wait, don't-" Tristan tried to warn, but too late.

The sharp edge of a broken pot bit into his hand. Alec yelped and drew back. Tristan found a way around the downed rack rolled over with a crunch of broken glass and pottery. He grabbed Alec's wrist and pulled it up, looking at the cut. Quickly, he pulled Alec around and into the back room to the small bathroom. He put Alec's hand under the flowing water to wash out the cut and whatever the dirt and shards might be stuck in it. Alec stood trying not to cry, feeling helpless and broken.

"It doesn't look deep," Tristan said calmly now, examining the cut. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit. You stay here and keep it under the water, okay?" He rolled away quickly and returned with the small box.

"I'm sorry," Alec repeated, his voice trembling.

Tristan gently shushed him and dried off his hand before wrapping it in gauze and then bandaging it. The cut was not deep, thankfully, and was actually very shallow, but it was long across his palm and would likely be a nuisance as it healed. Tristan finished wrapping it and held Alec's hand gently.

"I think it will be fine, but you should ask your parents when you get home," he said gently. "Alec," he forced himself to look at Alec's face briefly, "I'm sorry. I know I cannot take back what I said, I cannot unsay words that have been spoken, and I cannot undo the hurt I caused, but I want you to know that I am sorry. What I said was cruel and hurtful and wrong. I should not have said any of that. What I said was a reflection of me, not you. I let the anger win today. I have been fighting my anger problems and unlearning bad habits for years, but today I let it win. I am sorry. You are bright, clever, caring, incredibly kind, and not the least bit of an idiot or stupid."

Tears escaped despite Alec's best efforts to contain them. He leaned forward and hugged Tristan tight. He didn't mean to, but he accidentally ended up sitting in Tristan's lap. Tristan held him tightly, whispering, "I'm sorry," over and over. Tristan was doing a bit of crying, himself, but he did his best to control it and focus on Alec.

Alec finally calmed down and pulled himself back to his feet, sniffling and rubbing his eyes. Tristan handed him a few tissues and gave him a minute to calm down. "I am sorry for pulling down the rack. I should have been paying attention," he admitted. "I forgive you for yelling. Maybe it was an overreaction, but I understand why you yelled. I promise to try to listen better from now on."

Tristan patted his arm lightly. "I promise to never yell like that again. There is never a good reason to react like I did. You should call your parents and have someone come pick you up."

"What about," Alec waved a hand toward the front.

"I do not think it is going anywhere. It can wait," Tristan assured him. "I will deal with it."

"Okay," Alec said. "I'll still help you while waiting for my ride. I can do some stuff with one hand, and we have plants to save." He quickly texted Dark, asking for a ride home.

Tristan tried to argue against Alec helping but gave in after making Alec wear a latex glove under a gardening glove on his injured hand. Alec needed something to focus on other than what had happened. So, together, they worked on trying to save all of the plants and cut flowers that they could while being cautious of the fallen rack.
 
At home, Dark had set about cleaning what still needed doing with Xander while Daizi began to cook (after Ivy had been set down for her nap, of course), much less stressed than he was this morning because of the work Amty Zeinab had done for him. Because of this, when he received the text to pick up Alec earlier than he had planned, his brain didn't want to implode at another unexpected change to his schedule.

He arrived at the flower shop while it was still being cleaned up and as he stepped inside, he slowly looked around the place, "Is everything alright?"
 
"There was a bit of an incident, but nothing that cannot be fixed," Tristan assured him. "Alec did hurt his hand, though."

"I think it'll be fine," Alec said. "It's not bad."

"You should probably still look at it," Tristan said firmly more for Alec's sake than Dark's. "If you need more time off, please let me know." In truth, he wasn't certain Alec would be coming back to work after what had happened. If Alec didn't chose to stop working, Dark and Daizi might chose for him after he told them what had happened. He didn't hold it against them.
 
Dark looked between the two of them and then crossed the shop in only a few steps and gestured to Alec, "Let me look." He was pretty sure Tristan meant for him to look at home, but there was no way he could force himself to wait that long, "What happened?"
 
"I accidentally brought down the rack," Alec answered, holding out his hand reluctantly. "Uncle Tristan tried to warn me, but I wasn't paying attention, and... yeah. Then I tried to pick up a broken vase. That was kind of dumb."
 
Dark removed both gloves and the bandaging before looking in silence at the cut, eyes serious. Although it wasn't for healthy reasons, he did know a lot about cuts. He fixed the bandage without a word and said, "When we get home I will clean it, but it seems fine. It should not scar." His hard eyes darted back to Tristan, "It was an accident?"
 
"Thank you, but I am going to call for some help tomorrow. There is nothing that cannot wait until tomorrow," Tristan said. "Alec helped me save the plants, and I think most of them will survive."

Alec put away his gloves and apron before rejoining Dark. He paused to give himself a thorough brush down to get all the dirt off himself. "Okay. I'm ready."
 
"Right. In that case, we will see you at Ivy's birthday." He gave a nod and then turned towards the door, guiding Alec that way with a hand on his shoulder. It went unsaid they'd be talking about this more at home.
 
Alec let his father guide him to the door but paused before walking out and looked back. "You will be there, right, Uncle Tristan?"

Tristan gave a little smile. "If you want me there, I'll be there."

"Good." Alec kept going and headed for the car, staying close to Dark.
 
Alec took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out slowly. He pulled down the car visor and looked in the tiny mirror. His makeup did not look as bad as he feared, but it was definitely smudged. Ugh, but it could have been worse. He pushed up the visor and rubbed his forehead. "I am okay. Just... really rattled. It was a lot. All day was a lot."

~~

Back inside the shop, Tristan sat in a quiet corner leaned over with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He stayed there for a bit, taking the time for himself he needed to in order to find balance. He regretted what had happened, regretted it deep in his soul, but there was nothing he could do about it. What had been done had been done. He couldn't redo time. All he could do was deal with the consequences.

After he felt he was a little more centered mentally, he texted Cooger, asking if he could spare some time on Saturday or Sunday to come help him with the problem. He included a couple of basic pictures so he could see what he was working with, and then he locked up and went to his car to head home. The mental had taken a toll on his physical state, and there was nothing more he could do if he wanted to still be able to drive home safely. He hated his limitations some days, but it was something he was working to learn to ive with.
 
Dark watched Alec closely, but his expression didn't reveal if he bought it or not. Then again, how often did Dark ever buy it?

Still, he just reached over and squeezed Alec's shoulder and when his grip loosened, before pulling his hand away, he rubbed the teen's back, "You should rest when we return home. Amty Zeinab is out with the other aunties, if you want to be in your own room. Or you take some time in mine."
 
"Thanks, Ba," Alec said with a weak smile, appreciating the touch. He watched out the window for a while. "It was an accident," he repeated, "and it was my fault. He said it was wobbly and that I should use a stool to be careful, but I charged ahead and pulled too hard. It was like the ceiling was falling. It scared both of us really bad."
 
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