A Thousand Words

[Trillian]

"Suzette and Emma," he said, nodding.  Women long dead, but also living long and wonderful lives.  He'd kept in touch with them through letters, and letting go of that had been hard, but he knew necessary.  "It was nice, to have children to look after."  A thought occurred to him now that had never occurred to him before, and he looked at Owen with genuine surprise.  "Is that something you want for yourself?  To be a father?"

He liked that idea.

[Existentially Odd]

Although he was somewhat startled by Vincent touching so closely on a thought that had so recently been revealed to him, he did his best to cover up his shock with a laugh.  "It's a bit late for that," he deflected awkardly.

[Trillian]

Vincent frowned at him.  Did he still not understand the meaning behind being a parent?  Discussing this topic would lead to a different can of worms, so in spite of his instincts to point out that it could be done, he decided to follow this conversation thread another night.  Owen had it the wrong way around.  It was a bit early for that, not late.

"Lorica came back some months after I almost died from appendicitis.  Surgery for such a thing wasn't unheard of, but an uncommon practise.  I was recovering when she walked into my room, astonishing me."  He'd cleanly changed the subject back to his mortal years, skipping over the discussion of his daughters and children in general.  "It was one thing to be told she was immortal, but to see that she hadn't aged a day after fifteen years?  That rendered me speechless.  She told me she'd missed me.  Thought about me even though she'd thought it would pass.  Learned of my close call with death and had a change of heart about my proposal.  I made her wait a year, to see that my daughters were married and settled.  Then, she sired me."

[Existentially Odd]

Owen's smile was wistful as he gazed at Vincent.  "It's hard to imagine you as a fledgling.  Especially with a sire who looked young enough to be your child training you to cope with the bloodlust."  He gave an instinctive shiver as he recalled the depths of the haze he'd sunk into in his first few months as a young vampire, barely able to care about anything except blood.  It had even come as a surprise that Vincent had almost cheated on him, due to being neglected, he was so lost in the haze of needing to feed.

"So much has shaped you, so many experiences," the younger vampire mused, leaning his head back against the carriage once more but reaching up a hand to cup Vincent's far cheek, his fingers brushing the firm skin compulsively.  "Why did you think getting a baby was the best way to find someone important to spend your existence with?  How did you not meet anyone as an adult that would have fit the bill - or were you just not thinking that way so much that you failed to see opportunities around you?" he queried, finally finding it the right time to voice a question that had burned in him for a long while now.

[Trillian]

"Abigail," he said after another moment, "when she found out I was a vampire, she took the news well while her mother considered me some kind of evil demon.  I took that as a sign that knowledge of such things when young would be best to cope.  There were no clubs like Venture, not that I'd found anyway," he said, for there might've been, but he tended not to socialise with other vampires, keeping his distance whenever he came across one and socialising with mortals instead.  "I focussed on the idea.  Grabbed it and ran, one might say."  It was hard to remember how much he'd told Owen in front of the Chambers that night, and also how much either of them remembered.  It had been a lengthy conversation at an emotional time for both.  It made sense that some details might have to be repeated.  Obviously Owen retained most of it, to ask such questions.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen stewed on that comment for a while, rubbing his cheek subconsciously against Vincent's shoulder as he looked outside the carriage at the city they were passing, not seeing it directly, since his thoughts were turned inward.  It made sense that Vincent had developed a one-track mind about young people being the only ones open to hearing about vampires, based on his experiences, but Owen was still surprised that he had.

Vincent had never struck him as rigid until that moment, he'd always been so open and approachable about so many things, but his thinking as a young vampire showed that it had been restricted because he'd been hurt.  Then, of course, Vincent had evolved as his plans had continued not to work, but they hadn't strayed very far from the original, linear path he'd first conceived.  Always, he'd been determined to start with someone young and open to the fantastical so he could shape them the way he wanted.

He looked up at Vincent, feeling somewhat guilty for thinking these things of him, even though he knew they were true.  He was aware that the shine was wearing off, that he was beginning to see his sire as a man, with faults, rather than the amazing creature he'd hero-worshipped his whole life.  It was a realisation all children eventually reached, he supposed, when they started to see the hero they'd believed to be flawless as a reall person but it was extra strange for him, since Vincent straddled the roles of parent and lover, despite his intentions never to approach the former.

"I get it," he said quietly, "though I wonder if you might have met others who would've suited you better, who would have been open to being with you, if you hadn't had such a restricted view about it.  I mean, technically, since you really didn't shape me all that much, theoretically if we'd met a couple of years ago when I became an adult, you and I would've clicked regardless.  We just would've had a lot more to learn about each other," he chuckled, grinning wryly at his sire.  "Do you think that?  That you've missed a lot of opportunities to connect with people because you had such a narrow vision?"

[Trillian]

"That was my flaw," Vincent agreed, for he'd seen it himself, eventually.  "It wasn't the age, it was the person themself.  Perhaps I did lose out on making connections with those already in the know, for I had a few donors in my books, and some were interested in becoming what I was, and I didn't even entertain the idea."

He was thoughtful too, thinking over the other things Owen had said to him.  Owen was good enough to give him the time to respond.  At least his love knew him well enough to understand he would answer all questions posed to him.  It was very unusual for him to ignore one or leave one unattended.

"I hardly think of my vision as narrow," he said, frowning and feeling a little offended by it because he'd been unable to look at it anyway but negatively.  "I certainly don't regret it, for it led me to you.  We wouldn't have met, otherwise.  You would be in a different city, and I would be here."

[Existentially Odd]

"I think you were quite rigid," Owen offered boldly, telling Vincent the truth even though it made him extremely nervous.  He'd only ever challenged his lover in such a way when he was highly emotional and devastated by the betrayal he felt Vincent had enacted.  These were far different circumstances and it wasn't in him to criticise his sire so openly; well, it hadn't been, but he thought now might be an appropriate time to start.  He was growing up, after all.

"I mean, not that determination is all bad," he quickly added, wanting to deflect his mean observation somehow, "and you're right, it brought us together, which would never have happened, it's just... well, you can be quite one-track-minded, my love," Owen said softly.  "And I didn't see it.  Until now," he finished awkwardly.

[Trillian]

It was the first comment that took Vincent back to an unhappier time.  He'd heard this critique before, from Lorica, when she'd first laughed off his concern at her affairs and then when she'd grown angry and told him what a prude he was.  A rigid, single-minded prude.  She'd been apologetic later, of course, upset to have hurt him, upset that she'd spoken this way, upset that she needed more than he could give, and he'd relented and permitted her the affairs she'd wanted.  He would not speak of them again.  She would not throw them in his face.  It was this memory that caused his expression to become stony as Owen justified his comment.  They were speaking of different things, Lorica and Owen, yet the word they'd used was the same.

Rigid.

Another critique that mirrored his time with Lorica.  She'd said single-minded, and Owen coined it 'one-track-minded' but they were the same things.  Rigid, narrow focus.  To hear something like this from the one he loved the most and knew his best, repeating words from a woman who used to have that role, it felt stifling.  He leant forward quite dramatically, sitting with his elbows on his knees as he considered the fact he would have to face yet another unpleasant truth about himself.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen allowed Vincent his space, tucking his hands in his lap and watching as he waited to see whether his sire would accept his criticism or not.  There'd been a truly scary expression on his face before he leaned forward out of Owen's line of sight, and the fledgling wasn't sure if it was because of what he'd said enraging Vincent or striking too close to home and hurting him.  Either way, he felt like shit and instantly regretted speaking out.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, calamitous results running through his head so that he was sure he'd ruined their date.

[Trillian]

He eventually leant back into the carriage, adjusting the blanket with him so that it lay over Owen and himself once more.  He peeked at Owen sideways momentarily but couldn't bring himself to fully look at him until he was of a better mind.  Still shifting and patting the blanket down a few more times, pulling it up here or there, he found the words for Owen.

"Do you dislike it terribly, about me?" he asked softly, because he couldn't argue that this was how he was.  Two loved ones had seen it.  Owen had been far gentler about it than Lorica, lending him a great deal more credibility on the matter.  The thing was, he could see it now, about himself, but he couldn't see how he could easily change it.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen cupped the side of Vincent's face and gently turned him so that they could look one another in the eye.  His smile was gentle.

"It shaped your past," he pointed out, "and maybe it denied you opportunities but it did bring us together.  You see it now, but you're different now.  It was a mindset you once held but I've never even thought about it until... well, tonight.  I adore you, I look up to you... but knowing you have flaws is also a little bit exciting for me too," he admitted, his blue eyes twinkling secretively, "because you're not perfect.  I like all this... understanding your mistakes, who you were as a man, because it makes you less of an ideal and more real.  I like that you're still a bit human," he summarised, dropping his hand from his face and wrapping his arms about Vincent's right arm cosily.

It was not necessarily as much as he'd like to cuddle his sire, but he still didn't want to push the man who'd obviously been struggling quite a bit with their proximity and the truths laid bare between them.

[Trillian]

Vincent was hopeful, liking the words that Owen next gave him, and knowing it can't have been easy for Owen to say the first few.  He recalled the justification afterward, the gentle tone used.  No, he recognised Owen's bravery, and respected it.  His heart swelled with love and pride - for even though it had been hard to hear, it was equally difficult (if not more so) to say.  He recognised that they were on their way to a true relationship, one of equality.  It was good Owen saw him as flawed instead of perfect, he agreed with this too.  Perfection had a long way to fall, unfortunately.

"My humanity is not something I ever wish to lose.  There are those out there, half my age, that struggle to connect with people.  It's because they lose sight of how wonderful it can be to finally find the one you're looking for.  The one that's right.  I was incredibly lucky, to find you; whether as a babe or as a man.  Lucky."  He leant over to plant a soft kiss on Owen's lips.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen grinned.  "Who knows, maybe it was fate, not luck?  I certainly didn't feel like, as mad as I was at you, that I could actually leave you.  I really do think we're meant to be together, even if we're only just starting to truly know each other after twenty years," he teased.  "D'you think you'll start losing touch with your humanity now you've found me?  Now that you don't have to keep searching?" he asked, his tone still playful though there was an amount of seriousness to his questions.  Owen thought it possible that they could become so absorbed in each other that they'd lose sight of the world; there was a part of him that quite liked the sound of that, in fact, which was strange for him to acknowledge.  "D'you think that we could be... destructive... for each other?" he added spontaneously.

[Trillian]

"No, because you're a social person, and you will need more than me in your life, as I will need more than you," Vincent pointed out.  "I don't see us as destructive, for you've already helped me be a better man, to see my flaws and to help me grow.  I feel like my influence on you is good, as well, that I help you see a different perspective.  We are similar enough to be the right fit for one another, yet different enough to not be so absorbed that we spiral out of reality."

He grinned at Owen, and shifted beneath the blanket, so that his hand was atop Owen's thigh.

"It's good that you let me inside, that you're willing to have me raise you to new heights.  For both of us."  He smiled charmingly.