"Enjoy it," Daizi said, thinking she may have discovered the source of her son's odd dreams. The rest of the evening fell back into their usual, comfortable routines.
Late that evening, Dark and Daizi both lay on their sides in bed, facing one another. After everything that had transpired, once they were alone and comfortable, they naturally fell into talking deeply about what had transpired that day. Dark had carefully shown her the places he had been bruised, and she expressed relief it had not been worse. But she could tell it was still weighing on him, and so gently prodded him to be open with her.
"I just hate there is some part of me who enjoys it," He confessed to her while she curled his hair around her finger, "It makes me feel like I am no better than him."
Pausing for a moment, Daizi rubbed her thumb against his cheek before running her fingers through his thick hair, "That's ridiculous."
"He liked to hurt people," Dark replied, carefully watching the expression on her face, "And I enjoy it, and I hate what that says about me."
"It's a completely different situation." She told him, still lovingly petting his hair, "Your father hurt you, and he might have derived some sick pleasure from it, but who were you?" She asked, tracing her finger down the side of his forehead, over his cheekbone, and down to his jaw, "You were little, you couldn't fight back. He hurt you because he could, because he wanted to, and because he was a coward who could not hurt anyone else."
"Except for my mother."
"Right," Daizi agreed, running her thumb along his chin, stopping only to lightly touch his lower lip, "And she couldn't fight back either. And sure, maybe it is better if everyone alive is disgusted by the idea of violence, finds the idea abhorrent, and would never raise a hand to another person. But ask yourself, Eayni, who do you fight? Because in all my years of knowing you, I have never known you to hurt anyone who is not trying to hurt you or hurt somebody else. I know you better than anyone," she again began to tenderly stroke his hair, "Sometimes, I know you better than you know yourself. And what I wonder... is if you enjoy it not because you enjoy hurting someone, but because you enjoy hurting someone who hurts others. I have never needed to be afraid of you, my love, you have never tried to hurt me, or our children, our our pets. With us, you are only gentle, and that is what makes you different. He enjoyed hurting the vulnerable, and you enjoy defending them."
"Daizi..." He murmured, shutting his eyes while his voice caught in his throat.
"Oh, my beautiful man," She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, burrowing her hand deep in his thick hair to hold his head against hers.
"What about when I was younger?"
"When you were younger you fought to try to be hurt," She murmured, feeling his body shudder, "so even then you did not fight with anyone powerless, because it would not give you what you sought. You know that. It is only the cruel voice in your mind which tries to convince you otherwise."
After kissing him on the forehead, his strong arms encircled her, so she kissed him again on the mouth, and whispered, "Go to sleep, Goose. You will feel better in the morning."
"I do not know what I would do," He began, and kissed her when she tried to shush him, "Let me, this is important. Spider, I do not know what I would do without having you to talk to. You are half my soul."
"As the poets say," Daizi murmured, completing the quote for him, and the pair fell peacefully into sleep.
