|
|
Post by Zachary Scotts on Dec 17, 2009 14:47:17 GMT -5
Zachary raised an eyebrow at his brother’s words. His usual temptation was to be cynical, to laugh it off. Pretty much the last reaction he had expected from Thatcher over his absence was worry. Anger, annoyance, resignation… they were more typical. But he could hear genuine concern in Thatcher’s tone, and it surprised him. Even now, faced with the news that Tanya was dead, Zachary didn’t expect that Thatcher actually cared about him. He was the black sheep, the ne’er-do-well, the drifter. It never occurred to him that anyone, especially Thatcher, would actually miss him when he was gone.
“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his gaze to stare fixedly at something on Thatcher’s desk. “I wasn’t anywhere near Hogsmeade. I didn’t know about the attack, and I didn’t think anyone would notice the difference if I was gone for a day or two.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher Scotts on Mar 8, 2010 17:17:53 GMT -5
"We're used to you leaving," Thatcher replied, if only to let him know that no, no one would have been surprised if he disappeared for a while. "But that doesn't mean I'm not bothered by it. I've always hated when you leave." Being the eldest, he felt like he was responsible for the others, and he had failed Tanya.
He took a deep breath, leaning his head back and releasing the breath slowly. "I'm glad you're all right, Zach."
It didn't matter what else was going on around them, the mess with Suzette, his wayward children... none of it mattered because they were all okay, even if Tanya wasn't.
|
|
|
|
Post by Zachary Scotts on Mar 8, 2010 22:53:34 GMT -5
There had never been a lot of outward affection in the Scotts family. They were a wealthy, influential family, and when Zachary was growing up, he was never allowed to forget it. They had been expected to behave in a certain way, and hugs and kisses hadn't exactly been part of the equation. It was part of the reason Zach had left the first time--he couldn't stand all the staid propriety and the strict expectations placed on him. He was a free spirit, and he couldn't tolerate living by those kinds of rules. Thatcher, to him, seemed like the very epitome of those things; his polar opposite in every way. So although he had always looked up to Thatcher, he also resented him.
But now he was starting to understand a little more about his brother. What seemed like harshness and strict rules was just a form of "tough love." It startled him a little to realize that Thatcher might actually give a damn about him, because he had spent so long running from him. And he was planning to run away again.
He cleared his throat, not at all sure what to say. "I'm fine. I just wish Tanya..."
He stopped as another thought occurred to him. He had been angry with Tanya before she died. He had never had the chance to tell her that he was sorry or that he loved her. And what if he did not get the chance to do the same with Thatcher?
"Sooner or later, Thatch... I'll get this together. I'm trying. I don't want to be a disappointment to you."
It wasn't exactly a declaration of brotherly love. But it was the best he could do.
|
|
