strongroots | [meme, psls, etc]

[meme, psls, etc]

out of game psls, threads, etc.

There's no way Daniel can't understand these words. Not when what Robby says is so clear, so direct. Words that have no other meaning than the thought that rose in Daniel's own mind only a moment ago, the thought he threw away because it felt too outlandish. After all, Robby-- A crush? On him? But Robby is just a teenager, and Daniel is his teacher, and..

.. and suddenly it feels very familiar, in a way that makes Daniel sick to his very stomach. It's not like teenage boys never get crushed on their teachers, right? When Daniel could go to the places in his mind he never wants to go, the remembrance of a time long ago where an older teacher made him feel wanted, praised him, hands on his body, and Daniel had fantasized--

But that had been wrong. So wrong. Even Daniel himself realised it, the very moment the tower of cards came crumbling down. Once he realised Terry Silver had lied to him about everything, he realised the other had probably done even that on purpose. Stirring him up, leading him on.

But if he's looking at Robby across the table now like he's looking into a mirror that leads to the past, and then that means Robby is him, his younger self, and Daniel is..

.. Daniel is the one thing he never wanted to be.

He stares at the boy with horror, but it's got nothing to do with what this confession says about Robby, and everything to do with what it says about Daniel. He mentally tries to go back to his old memories with Robby, trying to recall them clearly enough to think back on every action, on every little thing he did. Was he leading Robby on all this time?

His throat feels so dry, and the little creature on Robby's lap perks up, standing up on the boy's lap so it can rest its little front paws on top of the table, peering over at Daniel - feeling every single emotion that's going through the man's body, being able to tell what Daniel is thinking. The shisa considers pulling Robby's attention towards it, but on the other hand, it also doesn't want to make things harder on a boy who's already struggling to say this in the first place.. Sometimes an omen's duty is hard..

Daniel does speak up though, even if he needs a moment first. Just a moment to gather his thoughts, though once he does speak, the words tumble across his lips as if they're in a hurry to be said.

"Robby, I-- I'm so sorry." There's a depth in those words, a desperate plea, a kind of guilt. No disappointment, nor regret, but instead worry. "Did.. Did I do anything to make you feel you had to..?"

He can't even find the right words for it, honestly. Even this doesn't feel quite right, but-- He has to know. Daniel would absolutely never forgive himself if he put Robby through the same thing Terry put him through all those years ago. If he copied his own worst nightmare.

Seconds can feel like hours, though the silence doesn't even come up to a minute. Robby notices when the omen moves from his lap, letting his arms give the creature the room it wants, or needs; and he considers looking to see what's happening, when he knows it's looking at Mister LaRusso, but--

--but does he want to? Is there a look on his face that he wants to be witness to? He shouldn't ignore anything, but it's a struggle, too, when he'll surely be faced with anything that comes next, decision be damned.

...Robby does look, though. Slowly as he goes about it, but still catching the older man's expression before he speaks, seeing something similar in his face as gets carried in his words. An apology that burns at his cheeks, the expectation of where it's to lead. Robby, I-- I'm so sorry, but--you're a kid, I'm married, it was never going to happen.

Except, it doesn't. Instead, Robby stares at Mister LaRusso, puzzled, baffled as to how to even begin, and yet:

"I-- no? You asked to be my dad." Why is he making it sound like this is his fault? It's so out of left field, that it makes it easier, somehow, for Robby to continue. "I-I just liked you 'cause you were nice, and-- I don't know. Does it have to make sense?"

O-okay, maybe he regrets letting himself continue. He is not getting into the details of his crush, thanks!

If he hadn't had certain experiences, it would be so much easier to see this for what it is. Just a simple one-sided crush from Robby, a boy so unused to kindness that the scraps of it he's thrown could easily lead to feelings like that. A youthful whim. Maybe still a little hard to understand for Daniel when he doesn't necessarily see himself as unattractive, but not as attractive either, certainly not to a kid decades younger than him, or when said kid knew very well just how married he is.

But the baggage makes it so much harder. No matter how old the experience is at this point, it colours everything.

Daniel's hands, lying on the table, start to fret, fingers squeezing and pull at other fingers just to have something to do. One might expect him to touch his wedding ring, to worry about that, but they don't even get near that - it's just general nervous fretting accompanying the feelings that always come up whenever he thinks back to that time, the past and present now mingling.

"No, I.. I know that feelings often don't make sense."

He tries smiling a little, wanting to reassure Robby, since - even in the middle of his own emotional turmoil - Daniel can tell this isn't easy for him. And of course it isn't-- who'd have an easy time admitting to this, especially knowing that Daniel wants to be family?

The smile is still a little uneasy though.

"But most kids your age.. They don't get crushes on people my age," Daniel says, slowly and carefully, like it's hard for him to even pick the right words here. For so many reasons. Partially because he's never put his own experience into words - ever - but also because he wants to be careful here, to not thread straight onto Robby's heart. "No matter how nice they are."

After all, mister Miyagi was always so kind to him, basically a surrogate father, but Daniel never had even the faintest hint of a feeling like the ones Robby is putting on the table right now for the man.

So..

"Usually it happens when the older person is," he pauses, visibly swallows, his gaze threatening to drop, but that's right where his Omen is still peeking out from Robby's lap over the edge of the table, so Daniel quickly looks back up at Robby's face instead.

(How can an Omen guilt you with just one stare..)

"When they are-- leading the younger person on. When they're being manipulative." God, this is so hard. "And I don't want to ever have done anything like that to you."

The little things that Mister LaRusso does--they worry Robby. For selfish reasons, about where his mind might be going, where his actions will lead him to. He's already been thrown off-guard once, but that doesn't mean this discussion won't go the path that all his fears have imagined. And really, Robby's imagined this going...nowhere. Acceptance, and Robby moving on from his feelings.

They've always had to go that way, because even when he kidded himself, kept them around, Robby knew they wouldn't be reciprocated. It was just nice, in some masochistic way, to divulge in them. To pretend.

But as Mister LaRusso speaks, the confusion stays--Robby listens, but he doesn't understand. Kids your age don't get crushes on people my age.

Robby's sure that's wrong. Not that he went out of his way to learn, and he can't remember many experiences of with other kids and the teachers at school or anything (jokes, maybe, and there was the one younger teacher all the boys like in music class), he knows that can't be true. That maybe, it doesn't go anywhere beyond a silly little crush, but--it's not unheard of. Can't be.

It's something else.

Because Robby watches Mister LaRusso, the way he can't keep his gaze, the way he speaks, and it feels like a very different conversation. Something's shifted, and this isn't about him, it's not a warning: it's a mistake that's already occurred. And now, he's the one who can't imagine what's being placed on the table. What's being defined rather clearly, and yet Robby can't see it for what it is, his imagination won't work.

It doesn't want to work.

And so he has to ask, slow as he is to do it, "...Did something happen to someone?"

His voice is soft, his eyes are on Mister LaRusso.

What he really asks is: ...Did something happen to you?

Daniel does know that Robby is good at seeing through other people's words. Through Daniel's own words too, specifically. So maybe he should have seen it coming that the boy would ask this - and yet he had been so caught up in his own explanation a moment ago that he hadn't even thought about how Robby's mind would process it, too busy thinking about plainly protecting Robby, even if it's from Daniel himself.

But when the other asks those words so softly, Daniel's gaze snaps up, looking over at him. There's something helpless in his gaze, because if there's anything he doesn't want to discuss, it's this exact subject.

Maybe he should just ignore it. Maybe he should go back to focusing on Robby's feelings so they can move on, especially since Daniel is sure that the boy isn't laying his feelings on the table here for Daniel to actually reciprocate, but instead just to be open with him. (But what if it is Daniel's fault, what if he's actually like Silver, just the way he's feared all along. What if he has to teach Robby this to make sure the boy is safe in the future too.)

But he doesn't want to talk about it. Daniel wants to get up from the table and run. It had been one thing to tell Robby about what happened with Terry Silver and Cobra Kai in general all those years ago, though that talk they had along the boardwalk feels like it was ages ago now. He's shared pieces of that with other people, even if he hasn't told anyone else as much as he's told Robby.

There had only been one missing piece he left out back there. On purpose. Because he couldn't talk about it, because even Robby shouldn't know about it.

When the man can't speak, it's instead the Omen that pipes up where it still sits perched on Robby's lap, tiny paws on top of the table. "Daniel." Its voice is as low and solemn as ever, more befitting of its larger form than the current tiny form it is in. "Tell him."

The helplessness in Daniel's eyes turns into shame when the Omen speaks up, his gaze dropping to the table itself.

He swallows.

Shame wins out.

(Duty to Robby wins out. If he's going to be his parent, then-- then he also has to be willing to talk about the tough things, instead of brushing it off. Instead of running away, instead of creating canyons between them.)

"When I talked to you about what happened with Terry Silver when I was younger, I left out one thing." Another breath in. Breath has always been Daniel's place of calm, but right now it's not doing a thing for him as he continues to speak. "I had those same feelings for him back then."

Silence is always telling, but Robby doesn't want to listen to it. Not right now, with the stronger implication it allows to form, the more dangerous ground it seems is being trod on. Something severe, personal, and revealing; something worth the reaction that Mister LaRusso gave him over what shouldn't have been that-- well, unusual. Right?

A one-sided set of emotions being set on the table, and not another's potential history being exposed in response.

The omen speaks, but Robby wishes it didn't. He wishes he could speak up himself and tell them both that Mister LaRusso doesn't have to, that he doesn't have to say another word. But his throat is dry, tight, and he isn't sure what to say at all. That maybe this was a mistake, and they never had to talk about this in the first place?

(Only--what if his feelings returned? Those ones. And they had a bond, and Mister LaRusso had to notice them, caught off-guard? And what would he think then? Wouldn't it be wrong? It was the worry he'd carried with him for so long, the reason he never got it. He needs to make sure to kill them with a confession.

But was it worth it? Worth bringing up this?)

But there's no going back once it's started. And once Mister LaRusso finally speaks, Robby gingerly looking over at him again, unsure if he should, the urge to kill the conversation isn't as strong as it was in that brief moment--not with the name shared. Terry Silver. A name that can set off alarm bells for anyone unfortunate to know the man. What he did to Mister LaRusso in the past, taunting and deceiving him.

"...Go," he mumbles to Daniel's omen, dipping his head and giving it a light nudge. Because Robby's not the one who needs him, whether he stays out or returns inside Daniel. The way Luck supports Robby from the inside, feels him there with him, if quiet. But the omen can make up its own mind on what's a good idea, if leaving Robby is, and Robby isn't going to fuss over it. There's just what's been told to him, a subject he shouldn't let hang in the air.

"He--" knew? No, not just knew. "...encouraged it?"

That's too much to ask, isn't it? But that's the pieces of what Mister LaRusso has been leaving on the table, and if Robby's to put them together--but that can't be it, can it? It's a picture Robby can't see, can't fathom. Has never been in the position of.

Cruelty over a crush.

He nods.

But Daniel doesn't say anything at first. He doesn't even know what to say here. A part of him doesn't want to say a thing, and even when another part of him tries to encourage himself to be open with Robby, with a boy he's close enough with to consider a son, that only makes deciding on what to say here harder. How much of this do you open up about to a kid?

"He knew. Without me ever having to tell him," he settles on. That's innocent enough, even if the context, the situation, wasn't. But Daniel knows this much to be true. Even if he never confessed it to Silver, he knows the man saw it in his eyes, knows from the hungry way Terry Silver always looked at him back then, still burned in his memory even now.

The touches. The praise. The encouragement. He never realised it in the moment, too caught up in it to think more of it, but now Daniel knows it was all perfectly engineered to only draw him in even further, to bend and break him.

(And it makes looking back on everything with Robby even harder. After all, didn't he do the same? Gripping Robby's shoulder, an encouraging hand on his back, praising him, all the same things.

Sure, Daniel never had that intent, not even for a moment, but-- what if he had, somehow? It's illogical as hell, but fear is stronger than any rational thought has ever been.)

"And.." Daniel pauses, swallows. The Omen uses the moment to - as long as he can get a small lift from Robby, those legs aren't long enough, okay! - climb up on the table, moving across it towards the man after Robby's encouragement. The shisa jumps off on the other side, settling in on Daniel's lap. The man's gaze drops to the Omen, but only for a moment before he tries looking over at Robby.

It feels even more important to actually look at Robby as he says it.

"I-- I get what it's like. When you feel alone, and you don't know what to do, and then.. suddenly there's an older man who offers you guidance. Who praises you. Who seems to give you everything you need at your lowest moment." It's so dumb. He never saw it before. He never stopped to think about it even for a single moment back then - maybe since he was too busy taking care of Robby and wanting to make sure the boy was alright to ever truly consider it. He never looked deeper into it, never saw the parallel. Never thought that, just like Daniel once upon a time, Robby might also-- "It's so easy to.."

.. to fall.

Even if it's not the right thing. Because, after Daniel's own experiences, it only feels like it could ever be the result of manipulation. Somehow he must have become the bad guy from his own story in Robby's story.

What did he do? He knew.

Silver, someone who terrorised Mister LaRusso when he was younger so traumatically that he could barely speak about the experience--was this because of it? Because of the implications, the unspoken interactions that can easily lie not just in Mister LaRusso's words, but his expressions--his hesitations. The difficulty that every part of this is for him to bring up, his reaction to Robby's own confession.

What did he do? he wants to ask to clear the air, even though the answer feels omnipresent between them. What do you think he did?

Robby helps the omen when it needs a bump to get onto the table. He rests his hands after on the edge of the table, fingers close to pick at and entwine at the skin, the tips. He doesn't look away from Mister LaRusso, though he wants to: his gaze feels heavy on him. If not the gaze, then his words, twisting at his own stomach, turning him queasy. It's so easy...

To be duped.

Is that what happened? Is that what all of this was? His gaze scatters, trying to decide--is that all this was? A mistake? A lie? A trick he fell into, like any other guy could fall into, and--

"That's not true." Robby can't. He cuts through his own doubting, curls his hands together and looks back at Mister LaRusso. Not wanting this feeling--young, childish, call it anything else--to be marked as sinister. Dirty. Not like this.

"You're not Silver--you can never be Silver. S-sure," his voice cracks a bit, "maybe I was just a lonely kid and you were the nicest thing to happen in my life at the start, but you never encouraged it. You didn't do anything wrong. I knew it didn't mean anything--you just made me happy. I was happy, for a long time--I'll always remember what you and Misses LaRusso did for me."

It wasn't dirty. Maybe it was wrong, anyone could say that, but it wasn't like it would've ever left his own heart: this nice feeling that washed over him whenever he spent time with Mister LaRusso, looked at him, when he thought about where his life was.

He cherished it, then set it away. He started dating Sam. Then everything happened between them and its warmth, its light--it extinguished.

But apparently, it never truly went away.

"...I just liked you too much, that's all. But then I started to realise things didn't have to be that why; that what I liked, what I wanted... being close to you, it didn't have to be anything else. I never thought, you know--I never thought we could be like that." A beat, and he looks across at Mister LaRusso. "A family."

He never thought they could be lovers, either, but what else was he meant to fantasise? When the parts that attracted him to the idea--those could be considered wrong, more than any. That he'd do anything for this man he cared about. If he was lonely, if he needed someone...

But there's limits to what he can share--there's some parts of this he needs to keep to himself.

He rubs his fingers over his knuckles, then stops. Fluttering his gaze back over to the older man.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He purses his lips. "Don't let him think you did. You made me happy."

You didn't do anything wrong.

It's always been hard to convince Daniel once he's got a certain thought in mind. It tends to circle his mind, not letting up, no one's words being able to reach him or convince him otherwise.

But there's one exception to that, right? Strangely enough, even more so than his own kids, or his own wife - it was mister Miyagi, back when he was still alive, and it's Robby now.

Daniel has never questioned why when it just was that way. The way mister Miyagi always soothed all his nerves, the way Robby's words always feel like they make hope grow in his heart. This time, too. It's not a full conviction yet, but it's the start of it, a seedling, a bit of hope - that maybe he really wasn't in the wrong here. That sometimes feelings are just a messy thing, especially when you're wrong, and everything can get all twisted up.

It's something Daniel's heart is going to have to sit with for a while, sort out - but in the meantime, he knows very much that the actual topic has gone unaddressed. Robby's feelings laid out on the table, but not responded to yet. Not in the way Robby deserves.

"You made me happy too," he manages to say. His voice sounds somewhat choked up, but after breathing in, after swallowing-- he sounds a little more normal again, though still touched. Still fond. "I also wanted to be close to you, and I also liked you a little too much. Just.. not in that way." A slight pause, and then: "You know that already, right?"

Daniel figures he doesn't have to say it more explicitly. Everything they've said, and just everything about it in general - it's clear that Daniel could never have those specific feelings for Robby, nor could he ever return them. Not with the age gap, with his marriage, with his fondness for Robby as a son.

But that doesn't make the feelings invalid. Like Robby himself said-- it didn't have to be anything else. The angle of the feelings doesn't matter as the feelings themselves. The warmth of them. The affection, even if not romantic.

"I know it might sound hard to believe, with the awful things I said when I got mad, with what happened with juvie, but.. I felt strongly for you too, Robby. Even back then. I was so happy you wanted to train with me, and that you accepted my help, and that you even wanted to be my new dojo's first student. You never thought we could be like that, like a family, but I-- to me, it already felt that way." Especially with Robby in his house. "I was just too stupid to fully realise it before I ruined it for a while."

His smile dips a little, but it's mostly into apologetic.

"You were always my kid already, Robby. I know it's not the same thing--" Because even if it might not matter, he still doesn't want to just dismiss everything Robby told him, confessed to him, treated like such an important conversation by the boy that he felt like he had to bring it up now. "But you were already important to me. Always."

You know that already, right?

Robby nods; a twitch of his lips, a bittersweet understanding. Of course he always knew, even if--well, the even ifs don't really matter anymore. He's letting go of them, now. Hoping to, at least; that this release will stick, once everything is said and done, and that his recuperation after his corruption isn't just making him push those feelings aside, only to creep back into his life later on. Like they did once before.

But he doesn't need them. An impossibility, when he already has something real, more permanent.

A future creeping now into the present, between them, that's already been there for a while. It tingles through his nerves, up his limbs and leaves Robby giddy with anticipation. Sombre around the edges, but warm in the core; even if (Mister--no) his dad continues down their bittersweet history, that sweeter taste still manages to follow after.

It swells in him, pleasantly. Shy glances taken his dad's way, the progression of their relationship now what takes centre place. Maybe the history with Silver will come up again, but right now? Robby doesn't want to help his shadow hover over them. Like it already does with his dad, as it could have threatened to keep, now.

No.

His thumbs twiddle some, as this time, he has to work himself to speak for a good reason. No hesitations over fear or shame, though taking a first step can always seem more like a leap.

But he looks over, smiles,

"I like the idea of being your kid anyway....dad."

and puts aside his anxieties, and takes the leap anyway. All the way, committed.

"I love you."

And what else can his words mean, but: You mean the world to me.

Daniel can't help but look over at Robby, looking for traces of-- well, anything in the boy's eyes. Considering his own experiences with these sorts of feelings and how it all ended up, he can't help but fuss a little like they may burn a mark onto Robby as well that Daniel will never be able to erase.

.. it seems fine though. Robby-- He looks alright. And none of the words he says sound like they aren't meant, quite the opposite. There's so much in those words that they can't help but fully touch Daniel's own heart as well, a smile on the man's face, his eyes just the faintest bit moist.

Maybe it's just since it all hits even harder with what they've recently gone through. With how long it feels like Robby's corruption lasted, even if it was relatively not that long when you consider how long they've been in Trench. When it feels like his recovery lasted even longer, despite that being much shorter.

Daniel stands up from his seat, taking a step over to where Robby is sitting.

"C'mon, bud."

He opens his arms, clearly ready to scoop the boy into a hug the moment Robby stands up. His arms wrapping around the boy-- around his son securely, relieved once more by the very solid being that's in his arms right now, returned from the brink of destruction and ruin.

"I love you too," he says, planting a kiss into Robby's hair while he continues to hold the boy close. There was a threat of him fussing a little too much to say something like that right after Robby confessed to his messy feelings, spilling over into another kind of affection entirely-- but the other's words convinced Daniel it's fine. It didn't have to be anything else. Just being close to each other.. That's enough.

Being family now-- that's just a nice bonus. A good bonus.

"You want to get that bond right away now? Are you feeling alright enough for it?"

Robby does stand, once he sees the arms open, pressing a hand on the table to keep his balance. It's not that wobbly, it just--feels weird. His feet do that sometime, but it makes it easier for him to tip himself into the hug and the wall of his dad's body, letting his head slump nicely on his shoulder. Because he wants to, and he wants to show--and he wants to know--that Mister LaRusso's okay with this, after everything that's been said. Confessed to. Admitted.

That it's okay that he's Robby's dad. That it's okay he does this, and has this.

He'll need to talk to his other dad about this later, too, but that's a conversation (and consideration) for another time. For now, Robby smiles to himself as he feels the touch to his head, raises an arm to settle it around his dad's side, hand somewhere on his back. Being greedy, taking more than he's giving, but his dad's got better hugs to give right now than him.

Which is why he's not moving away, or giving any impression that he intends to, even while he answers his dad's question.

"I've got everything in my room. I wanna take it and do it in the dojo--a lot started for us in dojos."

His voice hums with an amusement with those last words, fond from his throat. They're comforting to him, especially Miyagi-do dojos: like a place of shelter he can go to when he needs it there. One turned into a home for him, all turned into a purpose. A place that helped to offer him balance.

But he would always need to be the one to find in--in his life, and in himself.

And this seemed like a good start to getting back on that path.

"Alright, then we can do it in the dojo." It's the sort of answer that flows out of Daniel's mouth naturally. Indulgent, wanting to give the boy everything he wants and just the way he wants it, now everything has all come together like this. Not that Daniel isn't naturally the type to try and spoil the people around him, but when it's one of his kids? Of course he's going to spoil that one even more, especially when he's only got one kid to focus on here in Trench.

It's part of why he doesn't let go of the other just yet, figuring that Robby wouldn't mind indulging in this a little longer. Sure, they've shared a lot of physical contact over the past while as Robby recovered, but the physical contact was a little one-sided with Daniel being the only fully corporeal one.

Clearly they've got time to make up for then.

It also helps keep Robby upright, since Daniel knows the other is mostly okay, but still getting used to having a regular existence again. Just a touch wobbly, enough that Daniel can easily hold the boy upright just by holding him close.

"Are you sure you can make it though?"

Granted, this part is probably overprotective. It's not like Robby can't walk around by himself at all, and there's no need to treat him like he's got paper skin and glass bones - but could you blame a dad for being a little overprotective in this moment, especially with everything that's been said?

(Especially when that dad is Daniel LaRusso, notorious overprotector.)

"If you tell me where it is in your room, I could grab it for you. Then all you have to do is go the dojo." Please, Daniel, don't make it sound like walking a few rooms over is like crossing the entire desert right now for Robby..

Robby doesn't answer immediately. He's got to get a few more seconds out of this hug before he's willing to let go (well, be let go of); a body that might be like hugging the softest freezer, but that means everything to him.

But so does having this bond--so does taking this next step.

"No." He's firm in his reply, head lifting away afterward. A foot to step him back, to let him look up at Mister LaRusso. He should've gotten this so long ago; he didn't know how much he wanted this. "I've got it, so wait for me. I want to do this."

He could go the reassuring route, remind his dad that he's been doing a lot better about holding things now, and all of those very normal actions that fully corporeal people can do--but this is a lot simpler and to the point, and confidence is a better prescription to a worry-warting dad.

...well, maybe not completely, but hopefully a shisa will help to headbutt his sleeper into getting going if he dares to hesitate. They have a bond to prepare for!! No arguing!!!

Don't worry - a shisa doesn't have to spring into action. Not right now.

It's like the creature knows it too, most likely through its connection to Daniel's soul, to his heart. He often knows Daniel's feelings a moment before they roll in, leaving the Omen in its relatively small form, just curling up on the table, knowing that his job here is - for now - done.

And he's right about it. Because even though there's just a moment of quiet where Daniel stares at Robby, it doesn't take too long before the look is instead replaced by a smile on his face.

"Alright." Daniel may be protective - a little overprotective - but he knows that having faith in your kids is also part of the package. If Robby thinks he can make it to his room and then over to the dojo, then he probably can.

Hence why the man is already stepping away in the direction of the inner dojo, only turning his head to smile at Robby and add: "I'll be waiting there. Take your time."

Before Robby starts rushing himself in his excitement and suddenly forgets feet work again, okay. You'll have a worried dad on your hands if there's suddenly the sound of someone collapsing!

But - assuming there isn't - Daniel will indeed be waiting in the dojo, already sitting down. It seems like his Omen didn't follow him there either, leaving the space just to the two of them.

It's hard to know how right he feels in any given moment--he's doing better than he was, but there's always this nagging in Robby. Is his body how it's supposed to be? Is he really him? Will he slip and crumble to what he (wasn't) was? Like a lethargy after being bedridden for so long, never knowing when you'll crawl out of it.

It sticks with Robby even now, but it's being crowded out by the anticipation that thrums through his being. A smile bright on his lips as his dad (his dad, his dad) tells him to be careful, but trusts him enough to go on ahead, to take this next step with him. Even after everything confessed that should've put him off--

Robby doesn't rush immediately, but stands where he is to soak in this feeling; to not drown by it, and keep himself together in a manner different from corruption.

--Alright.

He heads to his room to pick up the bowl, sitting waiting for him under his bed. It's in easy reach (he's been looking at it, after all), and the items inside clunk some as he gets off his knees and heads down the hall to the indoor dojo--with a smile, Daniel will find, that hasn't left Robby's face when he makes his entrance. Stopping by the doorway for a brief second, and then closing it behind him. He walks with the gear tucked under one arm, dropping himself into a spot opposite to his dad, and the placing the bowl down afterwards.

Inside is a pestle, a plastic bag with the ashes and the dried flower petals. They'll need to add a piece of themselves to it, of course.

But first, Robby takes out the pieces--with shy looks over to his dad, that only makes the dimples on his face deeper.

"Do you know what to do?"

This is the moment that makes it all worth it, Daniel thinks. Just watching Robby enter the room with that smile on his face.

Not that Daniel wouldn't have taken the bond either way, not when he brought it up so long ago, when he would have been fine with sharing a bond back then anyway - but there's a special joy and relief in knowing that all of this makes Robby so happy, especially after what the boy has been through. After getting that heavy confession off his chest only a few moments ago.

Daniel finds himself instinctively smiling right back at him, unable to do anything else in the face of that smile.

"I don't exactly have personal experience," he answers to the question.

(Which is technically true, because even if he did have that bond with Terry Silver - a fact he isn't exactly eager to bring up now after hiding it all this time, not wanting that man to shadow over this moment as he had earlier - it's not like Daniel was involved in its preparation. He wasn't even super involved in its execution.)

His smile tugs a little further on his lips as he adds: "But I'm willing to follow your lead."

There's almost a playful quality of the words, eager to match Robby's own giddiness, trying to keep the boy's enthusiasm going.

"It's not hard," Robby supplies; tipping the petals into the bowl first, the rest of the items necessary placed to the side for now. "I can do it, but they say it's better if you take turns putting everything in. We need to mix everything up, add something from us... and then you get a paste you use to make the mark."

He would feel more fancy, if the whole affair wasn't so strangely straight-forward for an otherwise life-altering event (if only it was more complicated for Daniel, and when it came to Terry Silver....). They already had a bowl doused in moonlight, a flower of the patron pthumerian that watches over the bonds, the ash of deer bones, and the water to turn it into the consistency they need it to be.

"We can use hair." Robby gets a few crushes of the petals in before he suggests it, then pauses; rolls his lips together, then hands over the silver bowl for Mister LaRusso to take his turn. "...There's also blood, but, uh--we don't have to."

Because there's the part of Robby that hasn't forgotten what he did to his father under the corruption's influence, and there's also the parts of them that he still recognises as outsiders to the ways of this world--who find bleeding willingly pretty fucking weird.

...but maybe they've crossed over that line. And there's a reason Robby brings it up at all, that using blood makes for a better connection, but--it's not necessary to explain.

(He's forced his dad to bleed enough.)

It's a little hard to see Daniel's reaction at first. Because the mention of it happens right as Daniel is busy taking over the bowl from Robby, right as he's starting to work on it - doing some of the crushing himself before reaching over to the other ingredients, just pouring the ash in when Robby speaks about the blood.

It means he's looking down at the thing he's working on, rather than Robby. It makes his eyes hard to see, hard to gauge how Daniel might feel about hearing it. Even though it's very obvious to both of them why the boy is adding in the part about them not having to do so. They both remember.

But as the man sucks in a breath and looks up from where he was trying to mix up the ashes with the crushed petals, he doesn't seem bothered at all. Despite the memory not being a great one for either of them, for obvious reasons.. Despite that, Daniel smiles.

"No, let's use blood."

It helps that it's not like that time was the only time Daniel has ever bled here, even though it was obviously never as much as that time. But making enough stones to fit one in the bracelets for all the students here, including Robby's own - that wasn't just a little bit of blood either, even if Daniel had it drawn from him much more over time.

It makes this feel normal - as normal as anything can be in an odd world as this, as the customs they've had to get used to just to survive.

This has nothing to do with survival, sure, but it feels just as important as it. To forge their bond, yes, but to also show Robby that Daniel doesn't mind. That he holds nothing against the boy.

Forgiving your children is the most natural thing in the world.

"How much of it?" He holds the bowl back out towards Robby. "If it's just a few drops, I can grab the bonsai clippers."

Mostly since they're right there, in case they need something for a quick stab.. No need to get fancy about it if they'd only need a little bit, after all. And while Daniel doesn't hold anything against Robby over their shared memory, he worries that maybe the boy will be reminded a little bit too much of guilt if he has to handle that blood draining kit again.

Robby watches the bowl, the hands move at work, but he can't look up at Mister LaRusso's face. Like he knows--he knows he's not looking at him, as if the weight of the silence, small as it might be, speaks everything to him. Without the other needing to express anything, and why should he need to? When everything that's occurred between isn't that far back in history, and spilling blood--why did he think to bring it up at all in the first place? Why would he do that?

It's not alone why Robby starts to rub at his fingers, sliding them around his wrist and switching the process over to his other forearm; it's a reminder, a tick, of the feeling of his being held together, a way to help it stay that way. A habit from his corruption and recovery.

And psychological, maybe, but he does stop when his dad speaks up. Looks over to him, his hand clasped around his arm; his own expression is uncertain, even in the face of the smile looking back at him, the ease of the tone used.

How much of it? There's a certain amount needed, he thinks, to make the liquid (is there a problem with coldbloods doing this? Robby doesn't remember anything, but--), but he could give plenty, couldn't he? He should bleed for this. His mouth opens a little too early as he still thinks about what to say, a small breath that feigns a lighter mood as his gaze flicks away, and then back onto his dad.

"We can use the clippers. As much as you want." He smiles back, lips falling in that way. The remark easy, careless; nothing weighty to it, though his mind is buzzing at the thought: wouldn't this make things right? Shouldn't he let Mister LaRusso do to him what he did first?

Even though he can hear a voice inside him, static and distorted. A single No from his omen that doesn't speak outward.

(But wouldn't it be right?)

Daniel does get up from where he was kneeling, especially now he's no longer the one with the bowl, meaning he can freely stand up. And he walks over towards the bonsai in the room, grabbing the small sharp clippers that dutifully reside next to the bonsai pots, before moving back to sit down.

Not in his original position though. Instead he sits down right next to Robby. Opting not to kneel, but to instead cross his legs across each other as he holds the clippers in one hand, not making any movement to poke himself with them yet.

This isn't about Daniel holding back because he's worried about it, though. Even with the sharp object in hand, he doesn't really feel worse about the idea of bleeding a little to establish this bond. And it's not like Robby is fully showing anything that shows reluctance about the idea on his part - not with how easily the boy speaks, not with the smile still playing around his lips.

Maybe it's just Daniel being fussy. Hell, Daniel himself wouldn't be surprised if this was just him being fussy - it often is. But with how close it still is to Robby's recovery period, with the boy practically only just being fully human again, maybe he's allowed to be a little bit extra fussy. To pay extra close attention to Robby's potential needs.

Especially when not paying enough attention to Robby's feelings is part of what failed between them in the first place.

"You sure, bud?" Maybe that's why Daniel keeps his tone a little light as he says it, but there's a dip around the edges into something a little more serious, more caring. But it's filled with the usual warmth in his tone, a contrast to the way his cool skin might feel to Robby right now, elbows practically touching. "If you're fine with it, we can go right ahead. But as your dad, I want to check in first, since I'm supposed to not make you stuff you don't want to do, you know?"

A small pause, and then he smiles, gently poking the boy with his elbow for real this time as he adds: "Except for chores, anyway."

The change of positions is unexpected, but not unwelcome. He watches as Mister LaRusso settles beside him, his gaze having returned to the spot he thought he'd got until he came over--but it makes sense, once he thinks about it. If they're going bleed for this, would Mister LaRusso want to cut him? Though Robby knows that he'd probably prefer not to; it'd make more sense for them to do it to themselves. That's the kind of man he actually is.

...but can't events change people? Isn't there sometimes where, maybe...

His new father is sweet beside him, talking to him like he's missed (before his recovery--he's been getting a lot of this since after his corruption), but he's being distracted: from himself, and the omen stirring within him. A series of thoughts--he could take the clippers after him, dig in deep; why not? it won't come close to the same amount, shouldn't he offer it?--that Robby only responds once he nudges. A small breathy chuckle, a smile squeezed, and his hands fiddle with his arms until he sets them down on his lap.

"I'm fine with it," he finally answers; mouth still open to continue, but the words he wants to say--they won't come out. He moves a hand over the back of a wrist. He breathes in. He breathes out.

"...you know, if there's a part of you that wants to get back at me," he says quietly, less confident than he felt just a moment ago, "--I wouldn't think less of you. You're a good person to me. I-- I wanted you to know that."

I want to give you the choice. Because isn't that the compromise he can come down to with his omen? That this place can change a person, and he doesn't want to make Mister LaRusso turn back on this idea by even making the suggestion, but shouldn't he be willing to offer it?

"I did a lot to you."

Even if he's willing to be his father now, still--

What if that part exists in Mister LaRusso who would take it? Just like there's some part of him that exists inside himself to do it first.

They don't even have to speak about it.

Daniel feels fairly prepared for either answer. For Robby to dismiss it, to maybe even joke that he's fussing too much - and Daniel would agree, despite being the one doing the fussing in the first place. Or for Robby to admit that it is still a little hard after what went down before, which Daniel would meet with understanding, with finding a way to do this that's most comfortable for his son.

.. somehow a third answer appears, though. A third answer that leans a little bit more towards the latter option from before, sure, but it's still different enough. Because while Robby admitting to difficulty by itself wouldn't have made Daniel pause in surprise, this does.

It makes him put down the clippers on the ground in front of him, not wanting to hold them as he speaks. Not because he doesn't trust either himself or Robby with them, but because he doesn't want them to be part of this conversation, not with the turn it just took.

"Robby.. What?"

Daniel's voice is soft, but still obviously surprised, even an edge of outright confusion to the words.

His hand on the furthest side away from Robby reaches out, Daniel's upper body turning until he can reach far enough for the cold hand to land on Robby's cheek - the touch gentle, but still with enough strength in it that he can get Robby's head to turn, forcing the boy's gaze towards him. Because Daniel wants to look at it right now and see what he finds there. Because he wants Robby to look at his own gaze, and to see that there isn't even a single bit of that kind of intent in Daniel.

"Why would you think that..?" There's no accusation in his tone.

Just worry. Because there's no way Robby would say that if there wasn't a mountain of emotions and bad memories hidden underneath those words.

Robby doesn't look at him. He might've, with time--to commit to the offer he's making (one that no one asked him to make), to show that he's earnest about it changing nothing between them. But Mister LaRusso forces him to look sooner than he realises he's ready to: when the face ready to meet him makes his resolve nearly crumble before the question can. Eyes confused, worried as they look back at him, and even Robby doesn't know if he's somehow mistaken to reach this conclusion. Doesn't it make sense?

Doesn't even the man who wants to be his father deserve the opportunity to find some release?

"...I..." Robby struggles to get his words out, to say it, repeat what he's already basically said. He's looking away even with his head turned towards Mister LaRusso, shame creeping up his skin.

"I would understand," is all he can say; quieter than even before, his green eyes meeting with his dad's brown, even if their hold can't last. "I did it to you first."

Because it's all he can say to explain himself, though he leaves it implied what of his past actions he means (but with the clippers there, the subject of blood already brought up--it's not a hard guess to mate).

But his confidence has wavered, and he's worried about what Mister LaRusso might think. If he'll want to take this bonding idea back, or be disappointed that Robby would even think such a thing; that he could think so poorly of the man he wants to take on as his father, when it isn't like that at all.

(Or is he worried that the problem is really him: that something's happened to him to come up with an idea that would shock Mister LaRusso like this, and this is bad, that this isn't like him at all?

He doesn't know.

He doesn't want to be broken.)

The worry that rises within Daniel is mostly about where this idea could be coming from. Even though Daniel can be very worried about the way he's coming across, he is - this time - pretty sure that he didn't do anything to give Robby the impression that he was mad at him for anything that happened. Daniel was entirely prepared to put this all behind them, but..

.. it seems like it's a little bit harder for Robby still, huh? Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise. It must have been even harder for Robby when he was the one going through all of it, when he's only barely managed to reform himself again from what this world had reduced him to.

Still, even if it's slightly logical within the rules of this twisted world, it's still worrisome to a father. Who wants to see their kid hurting like this, or thinking like this? Thinking that their own father would want to hurt them, just to get back at them.

The only thing he can do is reach out, wrap an arm around Robby, pulling the boy closer to him. Holding him close, like Daniel would want to do nothing more than to gather the boy into his arms, to protect his son from a world that's too cruel for his heart.

"Never," Daniel says, his voice shaking faintly as he gets out the word, just from the sheer intensity of his conviction about that answer.

Or maybe just because the idea of it feels so disgusting, so terrifying. Him hurting Robby, when all he wants to do is protect the boy. It's not an idea he wants to let live in his son's mind even for a moment. It's not something Robby should have to be thinking about, nothing he should have to consider.

"As long as I have anything to say about it, I'm never going to hurt you. Alright? Never."

Daniel pauses a moment, letting out a breath that felt deeper than expected, like he was holding more breath than he consciously realised he was holding.

".. forget everything that happened," he says, a little more quiet this time. "I'm not hurt. I'm not mad."

He never was mad. Not at Robby. And.. okay, yes, Daniel was hurt, but it's easy to forget all about that when the entire problem is solved, when he didn't lose Robby forever like he feared so much. How is he supposed to still be hurting when he can hold this boy in his arms, knowing that it is his son he's holding?

"All I wanted was for you to be okay."

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