sliceitwithwind

Braig chewed on his sandwich and nodded, "That's good. The killing thing. I don't want to man-ipu-late them. I want them to grow up to be them. An' if they don't want me, okay. I can be a good uncle. Like you, you're an awesome uncle. I can do that. But I won' marry anyone if I can't have them."

It was serious, if not sober, and he kept eating until the sandwich was gone, looking out across the neighbourhood, "Was when she fell into the lion pit. My hear stopped. Literally stopped. Then Dilan went in too an' I just...I'd've died if they'd been hurt. An' I've known since then. I love them. Like I love science."

"What if they, or even just one of them, can't handle a nonstandard relationship? What happens if you can have one and not the other?" Nevada asked, still trying to root out information so he could understand properly.

Ah, yes, the lion thing. He was still rather upset by that, and by not being there. Granted, it led to less dead lions, but still. Lions. "One of them could get hurt now. Or die. What then? The world is not a safe place, Braig. What will you do then? Sociopathy is not a coping mechanism after all." He waved a hand to the grass in front of the deck. "Stances."

"...Dunno." he admits, "Dunno. I guess...if only one of 'em wants me, I'll do that. Dunno what I'd do if they made me choose. Be like cutting off my heart."

"I will rend the space-time continuum and get them back." Duh?

He moved out onto the grass to begin the stances as called out. They weren't picture-perfect because he was still a little tipsy, of course, but he obviously has been practising.

"No. You are not allowed to tear apart time, Braig. Not even for Dilan and Aya." Because there were limits and it was important to make sure they were known. "Left knee Braig, and straighten those shoulders." The boy wouldn't know good posture if it mugged him.

"No matter what happens, it will be a long time. I'm going to request you allow Aya and Dilan to go their own way whenever possible until she is at least twenty-five. That will leave a lot of time for you to drive yourself mad with possibilities if you're not careful."

He didn't argue with Nevada's attempt at giving him a rule regarding space-time, but...that didn't mean he'd follow it either.

To an extent he stood up...straightish. More than usual, anyway.

"...Tha's fair." He allowed, "Not allowed to tell them anything until Aya is twenty five. I can wait. I can be patient." Not I am patient, that would be a lie. A dirty, dirty lie.

"I am serious about Time, Braig." He said mildly, but reiteration was useful sometimes. And dear elements the boy was...never meant to go military. That was for certain.

"Good. And then you will abide by any decisions they make." He slipped from the deck to pace around the boy, eying the poor, poor form. Just...it was almost painful. "What throws have they taught you?"

For the best. The military couldn't handle Braig. He didn't do subordination worth a damn.

"Yes. Of course. It wouldn't be real if I forced it at all." Aside from the curve of his spine, and the drunk, he was actually doing pretty well. "Uh...None yet. They just yell at me about standing up straight. I am standing up."

"You are standing up in the vaguest definition of the term, Braig. Your shoulders are off center, your hips are canted, and if you took a real hit on the upper area of your back you'd probably crack your collarbone at least." What was the boys obsession with slouching?! "You stand as if gravity is winning against you."

He'd circled around to the front by this point, and rolled his wrist until it popped. "Would you care to learn a throw or would you prefer straight sparring?"

"...Scoliosis?" Yeah, he didn't think so. He straightened up by another fraction of an inch and pulled his hips into position.

"Whichever you think best, Uncle Nevada." And that? That was honest. He truly wanted to learn Nevada's way. (Except for the military bearing part.)

"I have known people with scoliosis who have better posture than you." No, he wasn't buying that line in the least. The new posture was slightly better. He'd take it for now anyway.

"I think, Braig, that you are not the sort to follow specific steps and forms in combat. You strike me as the type to brawl more than fight. That means unpredictability and things you won't pick up in a standard class. If you accept that as true we'll begin."

"Nah, sounds about right." Braig allowed, "I don't think martial arts is really gonna be my thing. Aya's awesome at it, though."

The chance to really brawl, even if his ass was going to be kicked hard was sobering him up.

"Then what it is necessary to remember when doing so, Braig, is that you must disable, often by unpredictable means, and move on. Brawling is nasty, grim, and bloody. It is also fun, and that is something you will need to be aware of and temper or it will be Dilan and Aya who lose you." Sober really didn't matter now. There was going to be flying young men tonight. Oh yes.

"When we start your goal, your entire goal, is to hurt me. Mine will be to prevent that, and to keep you from hurting yourself as you figure things out. Do not worry, you aren't going to hurt me any worse than others have in similar lessons. You may crack bones though."

Braig nodded, a little excited and a little grim, and squared himself up.

The next half-hour or so was exactly as Nevada had promised: nasty, grim, bloody, and fun. In the end, the teen was seated on the ground, holding his ribs where he'd managed to ping Nevada just wrong and get a pretty nasty bone-bruise.

"...Thanks." he said, finally sober, "I, like, really needed that. Probably will again, too."

Nevada stretched, working his arms and elbows a bit to make sure they wouldn't stiffen, then looked down at the boy on the ground. "Stretch while you're down there. It will help." He was...going to fill that glass for Braig again now. And stretch his legs a bit as he did so. He wasn't as young as he used to be. He was going to be stiff in the morning.

"And yes, fun. Freeing. Dangerously addictive. Watch that."

Braig nodded and then peeled himself into stretching. One muscle group at a time, because while he didn't like to stand up straight...he wasn't afraid of pain. "Don't get into the habit. I think I can do that. Not do that."

Ow, ow, ow. Ow.

Braig soon got a large, warm hand pressed between his shoulder blades, helping him dip a little further into the stretches when necessary. And a glass of Chambord set near his ankles. "You'll try at least. You're young, and even you can be an idiot. If I have to haul you out of a bar fight some late night because Dilan has called me, worried, you'll regret it."

He nodded in thanks at the arm, even as he hissed with the pain. He wanted to do it right and convince Nevada to do this again sometimes. "Yessir. That's fair. I don't want to worry Dilan."

He will, of course, and eventually he'll get scarred and lose an eye. But he will never, ever set out to get into fights for the hell of it.

"Dilan will worry, regardless, I think. But again, you'll try." Nevada was a realist. "If you keep up with the martial arts training at least once a week I will spar with you two other days of the week. Pick two once you have your schedule in hand." For as long as he was able!

...He can do that. There's a faint grin and he nodded. "Right. Next semester's schedule is going to be heavy during the week...so probably Friday/Saturday."

He has his priorities straight. This next semester is going to be rough. On him and Dilan both.

"That will be hard on you. You may want to consider Friday and Sunday so you can rest and stretch out between sessions." Just saying really. "And you will have to keep one day a week of martial arts despite the schedule. That is non-negotiable."

"Okay." One of the things about being a genius? Knowing when to take the experts at their word, "Fridays and Sundays. I'm taking Karate with Dilan on Wednesdays. I already promised him that I'd stick in it as long as it doesn't interfere with my grades."

"We can meet here, or at another place closer to your college if you need." Nevada was flexible for the people that mattered! "Just let me know ahead of time." And depending on how sessions went Nevada may take him out to a group brawl...

...if he could find ones he trusted. "Now drink. You'll need sleep and that will help."

"Closer would be more convenient for me." Braig admitted, "There's a nice place about halfway between here and Uni that I can rent out, it's a kind of free-for-all gym space with lightly padded walls and floors."

Just because it's fun doesn't mean that he wants to be completely flattened twice a week.

Braig nodded, finished stretching, and picked up his glass to drink out of it slowly.

"Sounds nearly ideal." And with a space he could send out a call to people he knew who might be interested in helping with a whelp. "I may rent it for other reasons as well, but certainly for your days." Yes, that would work.

"It will get rougher from here for some time, Braig. If you need to talk, or rant, or anything, simply tell me and we will take another evening like this until things settle out once more." He settled on the grass beside Braig, leaning back on his elbow to watch the stars once more.

"Card's in my wallet next to the one for the labs." Braig didn't mind family getting into his wallet...and after all Nevada had done for Aya he was as close to family as anyone else.

"Thanks. I loved her too. Didja know that Aunt Lenna taught me to walk? Mom and dad were involved in some stuff that kept them out of the house a lot, and Aunt Lenna was able to take the time off."

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