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Lucas never wanted kids. They always seemed like too much work, too much time spent on another person when he could be working on a dozen or so different projects instead. And when he started the school, he told himself that they weren’t going to be his kids. They’re just kids that he’s in charge of and gets to teach cool science and magic sometimes. He’s not even a teacher, he’s the principal, headmaster, whatever it is you call people in charge of schools.
In his mind, he thought he’d never have to deal with the hard parts. All the emotional strain his mom, and for a while Lucretia, had gone through. He’d get to send them back to their dorms and their parents and never have to deal with the emotional side of things.
He’s not really prepared for the onslaught of emotions he gets when he hears Angus has been taken. They’re all so flippant with him, vague about the information they give him, and it makes him want to scream. This kid is his responsibility, especially when he’s under his care, and he was definitely under his care when he got snatched. Lucas didn’t even realize he’d been gone for that long, hadn’t even thought about him going into town. Things had been stressful after the Story and Song, but nothing bad has happened to his students yet.
He’s afraid, he realizes after they’ve left with a haphazard promise to keep him updated. The only person he ever really feels afraid for is himself. And wow, when he puts it like that it sounds awful, but it’s true. He’d been afraid for the world when the Hunger had dropped, had been afraid for his mom when her brain broke before she died, but that’s about it for other people. Somehow Angus has wormed his way into Lucas’s life enough that he’s genuinely scared for him, worried of what could be happening. They didn’t tell him anything, not why he’d been kidnapped, not what the things were on the stone that made everyone look so freaked out.
There’s nothing he can do, and that’s what really scares him. He has nothing to work with. All he can do is sit here with his plate of half eaten reheated spaghetti that he knows he isn’t going to finish. His appetite left him when he saw how terrified Taako had looked.
He dumps his plate and buries his head in his hands.
It’s a long four days with next to no news, and then he gets a call late in the night. It’s from Kravitz.
“Yeah?” He answers, trying not to sound as desperate for information as he actually is.
“We got him,” Kravitz tells him in the most bone weary voice he’s ever heard.
“Oh thank the gods,” Lucas breathes out, closing his eyes. The tension that’s been sitting in his shoulders dissipates. “Is he okay?”
There’s a long pause before he speaks again, and the tensions hikes his shoulders right back up. “He’s… Merle’s looked at him, so for the most part his body’s okay.”
“That’s the least comforting thing you could have said.”
“I’d rather not get into specifics over the stone,” Kravitz says. “I can come up tomorrow to talk with you, but right now I just wanted to let you know that we found him and that he’s safe at home.”
“Yeah,” he replies. It doesn’t really sate him, but he can wait a little longer for all the gritty details. At least he’s safe. “Yeah, okay. Like, eleven? Does that work?”
“I can make eleven work,” he tells him, and a yawn cuts through his words. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s been a very long couple of days.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, because come on. Who’s gonna blame him for being stressed and tired after his kid got taken? “I’ll see you at eleven?”
“See you at eleven.”
It’s a long few hours between then and eleven, and he doesn’t get a lot of sleep, but it doesn’t matter. He needs to know what happened, needs to know that Angus is going to be okay.
When eleven rolls around, he’s on his third cup of coffee and his handwriting’s devolving into a near unreadable mess as he fills out these documents. The rift makes him jump a bit, and he looks up to find Lup, not Kravitz, standing in his office.
“I thought Kravitz was coming?”
“Angus kind of stuck himself to Taako and Krav so I figured I’d come so he wouldn’t have to move.” She leans against the chair instead of sitting in it, chewing at her lip. “Doesn’t really matter who’s here anyway, s’long as you get the info you want.”
“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” he assures her, sitting up straighter, setting his mug down. “I don’t, uh, I’m not really sure how to ask, but—”
“The only reason I’m telling you any of this is because I cleared it with Ango first. He figured you’re his teacher and kind of his boss so you deserve to know, but you’re getting what I give you because he’s fine with it.”
He nods, bites his tongue to keep from saying anything stupid.
She closes her eyes and squeezes the bridge of her nose and his stomach drops a bit. If it’s this hard to talk about, he’s really not sure he needs to know. That’s a dumb thought, of course he needs to know. He’s been wanting to know since they first came in looking for whatever information he could give them.
“Angus got taken by a guy looking to get revenge on Taako for Glamour Springs and his daughter dying. Told us he wasn’t going to kill him so we should be grateful. He tortured him for four days before calling in to tell us where he was.”
Lucas gapes at her. He can feel his pulse in his ears, eyesight narrowed in on Lup, still biting at her lip. He’s slammed with a feeling that he can’t place, something that gnaws at his insides, prickles at the back of his head. He could have done something, could have tried to check in with Angus, better known what he was doing and where he was going. Made sure he was safe—
Oh.
He’s feeling guilty.
“Fuck,” he says finally, voice flat.
“Yeah,” Lup agrees. “Fuck.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Please let there be something he can do.
“Let him be home for a while,” she says. “He’s gonna need some time, as much as you can give him.”
“Of course,” he agrees. That’s too easy. He can give him as much time as he needs. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment. If I think of anything I’ll give you a ring, but for now all we need is the time. You want us to keep you updated?”
“Please,” he says, and he’s not quite able to keep the desperation out of his voice. Lup gives him an odd look before summoning her scythe.
She tears a hole in the air and his teeth clench together. “It’s not your fault, you know, for whatever you’re thinking you could have done better.”
“I—”
“Don’t even try. I know what that looks like. Just know you’re not responsible. And get some sleep, bud. Coffee only does so much.”
She steps through the rift and disappears, air shivering before going still again. He lets his body slump forward, face mashing into the paperwork he knows he’ll need to redo. He’s got things to do, but for now he’s going to sit here, face pressed into, thankfully, dried ink and paper. He breathes in the scent, grounds himself for a few moments, and then sits up.
He can give them time. As much time as they need. His worry doesn’t really count here, he’s not family, he’s a teacher and a bit of a boss, more of a boss when Angus finishes up learning how to be a teacher alongside his other studies. This isn’t his area. He’s not meant to get invested in the kids, he’s meant to keep them at a distance, not get attached to any of them.
That idea stings a little, but whatever. Angus isn’t his kid, he doesn’t get a say in what’s happening right now. He’ll give them time and he’ll wait. It’ll all work out fine.
It’s a very long two months before Angus is almost ready to come back to school. Magnus got him a dog, Basil apparently. He knows Angus had wanted to come back sooner, but everyone, including Lucas, had agreed on at least two months to get himself situated. It’s almost time though, and he can’t say he’s not happy about it. It means things are settling, that things are getting better for him, and he glad for it.
Taako drops in a few days before they’re moving him back in, flipping the chair around and sitting with his arms rested on the back.
“Basil’s gonna be with him all the time now,” he says sharply. “She’s pretty well trained, but I figured I’d drop in to let you know.”
“I assumed,” he says calmly. He knows Taako isn’t his biggest fan, and it’s for reasons he can’t argue with. But he could be a little less openly hostile about it. “Service dogs usually stay with their person. It’s not a problem. We’ve got a few other people on campus with them, so everyone’s already used to it.”
“Good,” Taako says, arms readjusting into something less defensive.
“Is there anything else you want me to know about? Things I won’t accidentally trigger if I don’t know them?”
“He’s a little weird about his independence now,” Taako says honestly. “Don’t try to coddle him, he will blow up at you. He’s really good at targeting something you don’t want him to to blow up about too.”
Taako’s face twists up in distaste at the memory and Lucas sits back. That’s something he can do. He’s never been good at talking to kids in ways he should for their age range, so he just treats everyone like a very small adult.
“He wears gloves. Don’t make him take them off.”
“Noted,” and that’s an odd addition to this, but he won’t pry.
“Don’t let him know you’re guilty about it,” Taako says, a bit quieter, softer. “Lup mentioned it, and while it’s a bit of a stretch to imagine you feeling guilty about anything, I get it. But don’t say anything about wishing you could have been there or thinking you could’ve done more earlier. He’ll just twist it back on himself and make himself feel worse. It’s bad enough with him being worried about me, gods know he doesn’t need another fuckin’ person to think about.”
Lucas chews at the side of his tongue, mulls that over. It’s not a surprise, really. The kid was always quick to twist it all back on himself, even with small things. He can deal with this though. Just needs to shove all that guilt he’s got down even further and it should go fine. It always works out so well when he does that.
“I can do all that. Is there anything you want me to do? Call you about anything in particular?”
“I mean, if he just straight breaks down then yeah, call me, but I think he’s got when to call for himself handled pretty well.”
“Doable,” he says, and Taako rolls his eyes.
“All you nerds and your can do terminology. Alright, this has been more than I ever really wanted to talk to you, and you’ve got all the info you need, so I’m gonna dip.”
He doesn’t put the chair back the way it should go, just rocks backwards off of it, traipsing to the door. Taako turns back before he leaves, narrowing his eyes and pointing at Lucas.
“Don’t you fuck my boy up any more, got it?”
“I won’t, Taako,” Lucas says, a little petulantly if he’s being honest with himself. Taako waves him off and swings the door shut behind him.
Alright.
Angus is coming back.
It’s still about a week until he gets there, but he stops by his office when he does. His dog, Basil, is at his side, taking in the new terrain.
“Hi, Mr. Miller.”
“Hey Angus!” He sits up, smiles a bit, sets his book aside. Angus walks all the way into the room, looking a bit more confident with his greeting. “Everything going okay?”
“Oh, yeah, everyone helped me move my stuff back in, so I’m ready to get back to it.” He smiles, and while it’s a little shaky at the edges, it’s genuine. Lucas takes in his appearance. He looks tired, but healthy. He’s got the gloves Taako mentioned on, hands clutching Basil’s leash like a lifeline. His sweater sleeves are pushed up to the elbows, but they’re massive sleeves, baggy and sagging where they’ve been placed. He’s rocking between his feet, but he did that before he got snatched up, so Lucas takes it as a good sign.
“Any particular reason you’re here in the office? I figured you be going to see your friends and everyone before all your school stuff started back up.”
“Oh,” and he deflates a bit. Shit, not a great start. “I just wanted to come in and have you meet Basil?”
You can still save this, Lucas, he tells himself. “Of course! I’ve never really been good with dogs before. Do I just let her sniff me?”
“Mhm!” Angus walks them both closer and Lucas sticks his hand out for Basil to sniff. She gets in close, smelling him up before giving him a few licks on his fingers. Angus is smiling again, looking down at her, and something in Lucas’s heart unclenches.
“She likes you,” he says, smile coloring his voice.
“Thank the gods,” Lucas says jokingly. “Not really sure what I’d’ve done if she didn’t. Suffered probably.”
Angus snorts. “Don’t be like that. She was always gonna like you.”
“I’d hope so,” Lucas pulls his hand back up and leans back in his chair. “How are you?”
“I’m feeling better,” he says and his lips twist. It’s clear he doesn’t like this topic of conversation. “How are you?”
“Lot’s of paperwork, but it’s work withable.”
Angus nods. Lucas is glad he didn’t mention anything about worry about him, about feeling better now that he’s back. He’s not sure how Angus would take it, but his gut says badly.
“I’m gonna go introduce Basil to some more people before the day ends,” Angus says, straightening up and pulling his hands back. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Miller.”
“You too Angus. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”
“Yep!” he says, and he waves as he leaves, Basil close at his side.
Things go well for a while, Angus seems to be doing good, and Lucas is honestly feeling better about things, not feeling as guilty when he can actually see Angus up and running right in front of him.
And then one day, after a few months of forward motion with minimal setbacks and worries, Angus doesn’t show up for class.
Lucas wonders for a while if he’s just late. This is the one class that Lucas actually teaches, planar research and how to employ it, but as time ticks on it’s clear that he’s not coming in. Maybe he’s sick? Something in his brain tells him that no, he’d know if he was just sick. He sticks trough the class, managed to teach around all the worry in his brain, and when it’s over he packs up his stuff calmly and walks his way over to the dorm section of the school. He greets other students, waves a few that wave to him, and eventually makes it to Angus’s dorm.
He knocks on the door and gets no response. He knocks again, calls a quiet “Angus?”
Still nothing.
He tries the door and finds it unlocked. “I’m coming in,” he warns before opening the door.
Angus isn’t immediately noticeable. It takes him minute of looking before he finds him, tucked in the corner on the floor, clutching what looks like a water bottle between his hands as Basil whines and nudges at him. His eyes are a little distant in the dim lighting, and looking up at the lights finds that the light is out. He tries the switch, but nothing happens. The only light streams in a thin line from his curtain, not doing much to illuminate the room.
“Angus?”
He shivers and squeezes his eyes shut, dipping his head down so his forehead presses against the top of the water bottle. Basil looks up at him and stands, trotting over and pulling at his pant leg. He gets the message clear as day.
“Hey, it’s Lucas. It’s just me.” He walks in a little further, closing the door quietly behind him. Angus’s breathing gets a little more shallow, but he pulls his head up and tries to look at him, eyes still unfocused.
“Mr. Miller?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Lucas Miller. You missed class, I was just checking up on you.”
“Class,” he says quietly, eyes floating into the middle distance again. “I… class?”
“Yeah, kid. Do you know where you are?”
He crouches down in front of him, enough space so that he won’t feel crowded. Basil presses herself to Angus’s side again, nosing at his hands. He drops the bottle with a thunk on the floor, and his brows furrow. “I’m not really, I—, I really don’t know.”
“You’re at school, in your dorm. It’s a Tuesday, and you’ve been back here for a couple months.”
He can see him biting at his cheek, still looking at nothing, but one of his hands drops down to rub at Basil’s head. Her whining quiets down. “Dark,” he mumbles, brows still tightly drawn.
“It looks like your light’s out. Hold on.” It might be easier to just get up and pull open the curtains, but he doesn’t want to startle him right now, so he pulls his wand out instead. A quiet murmur and then a ball of light jumps from his wand and up into the middle of the room. It’s a small dorm, a single person room, so it brightens a considerable amount.
Angus’s eyes squint shut, but his shoulders relax. He opens his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings, squeezing Basil a bit tighter. His eyes roam over his bed, the dresser, the small little kitchen space he’s been given, and he relaxes. His eyes find Lucas and his mouth tightens.
“You back with me?” He asks quietly. He gets a stiff nod in return, his hands grabbing the water bottle and taking a small sip from it.
“I’m sorry for missing class,” he says, and his voice is very tight. He won’t meet his eyes. He’s still petting at Basil.
“It’s not a problem. You honestly probably know more in that class than I do, living with the people when went through actual planar travel. I can get you the highlights though if you want them.”
“You don’t need to,” he says, and now his voice his thick. He keeps blinking, and oh no please don’t let him start crying.
“Hey,” he says, maybe a little to sudden, because Angus jumps but he does meet his eyes. “You wanna help me with a project?”
“What?” he asks, still blinking.
“I’m planning out a presentation of the different planes, showing off what they can all do and how they intersect, but I’m not really sure how to make it interesting to the class. Figured, as a student, and someone with some experience with people travelling through planes, you could help me out.” He’s lying through his teeth, he hasn’t planned anything for this yet, it’s something he just came up with, but Angus was never into robotics or building things so he has to work with what he’s got here.
“Um, sure?” He looks a little more confused now instead of about to cry, but it’s better. Lucas isn’t sure he can deal with crying child just yet, but distracting someone he can do.
“Great! I’ve got, uh, some stuff for it in my office. Did you want me to bring it back here or come with me?”
“Go with you,” he says firmly. “It’s not really… I need to get the light fixed before I work on anything in here.”
“No problem.” He pushes himself up and holds out a hand. Angus takes it gingerly and he pulls him up. The walk to the office, Angus keeping close behind him with his head down. Basil walks beside him, almost pressed against his leg.
His office is a bit of a mess, not having time to clean it up after class, but he shuffles things together and pulls out a sheet of paper, scribbling a few half assed ideas down to work with. They’re not the best his brain has to offer, but he’s doing his best here with his hands full of “Child having a traumatic flashback.” He pulls out some materials from his class, pulling out some markers and making some circles on the paper.
“I know what you’re doing,” Angus says from the chair he’s pulled up beside him. His hand is buried in Basil’s fur and her tail wags.
“For the presentation? Oh good, because I really don’t have much of an idea—”
“For me, Lucas.” And oh, that’s a shock, he’s never called him anything but Mr. Miller before. “I know you don’t have a presentation you’re planning. This is all very last minute scribbles you’re doing. I know you’re trying to distract me, and you don’t have to.”
Lucas hates how observant this kid is, even in a panicky state. But to be fair, this is some pretty bad planning on his part. He puts the marker down, capping it and sitting in his chair, turning to face Angus. He doesn’t give him much to work with, his face carefully blank. He’s not almost crying anymore, but Lucas wonders if that isn’t worse, that he’s shoved everything down to avoid showing it. Well, he might have bunked this one up a bit, but nothing’s ever unfixable.
“Before my mom died,” he says, and his brain scrambles to catch up with his mouth because where the fuck did that come from, “she wasn’t doing very well. She’d seen the story Lucretia’d put in the baby voidfish, but she hadn’t been inoculated from that one, only by Fisher, so it messed up her brain. Broke her a little.”
Angus’s brows go down and his mouth twists into a frown and Lucas wonders what… ah, he thinks he calling his brain broken. He’ll just have to get to whatever relatable point his mouth is trying to make a bit faster then.
“She couldn’t really tell what was real and what wasn’t, and I swear I’m not comparing you to her right now, there’s a different message to get out of this story than messed up heads. But before it all went to hell I though that maybe I’d be able to help her, that if I tried hard enough, I could make things normal again.”
He closes his eyes and sighs, not wanting much to do with these memories, but he’s an adult and much more capable of handling his emotions than Angus, this kid that he somehow cares about.
“She attacked me at one point, couldn’t remember I was her kid, and then she got sicker and sicker until she died. Her body couldn’t handle it and I…” he hates admitting his faults, avoids them at all costs. “I did everything I could to bring her back. I just wanted things to be normal again. I know you heard how that turned out, how I almost accidentally killed everyone with all the stuff we were doing with the Stone and how my mom couldn’t even stay in the end, sucked back into the Astral Plane in a plea deal for my life, and it felt like I’d just fucked everything up to where I couldn’t fix it anymore. Nothing went right, everything I knew had changed and the people that cared about me were gone.”
Angus is quiet, looking at him contemplatively. This is better. He’s taking this better.
“It took a really long time for me to feel like myself again after that, and it didn’t help that I was all alone except for the robots and the lab. There was no one I could talk to about any of it, I was supposed to be dead after all. And I know your situation is way different than mine, but you should know that it gets a little easier. I’m sure you’ve got every adult in your life telling you that, that handling this kind of stuff gets easier with time and practice and talking about it and I know you’ve got to be getting tired of it at this point. And I know that in all the time I’ve known you, you hate talking about anything negatively personal about yourself, and I’m not asking you to. I hate that too, and I hate feeling like I’m burdening people, and that’s what it felt like. Like all the ways I’d fucked up just made me a bigger burden on people and I didn’t even have any people left.”
He takes a breath before continuing. “But it does get easier, or maybe I’m just better at compartmentalizing now. But it feels like it’s gotten easier to face things like that. And none of what you went through is your fault at all, but I know it feels the same. Because it felt that way when my mom died. And it’s okay to think about it sometimes, it’s good, even. Because it means you’re past it. If you ignore it it’ll just sit there and fester, but if you can think about it, even if it makes you a little scared for a while, it means you’re moving forward.”
He looks at him, makes eye contact and holds it. “Things aren’t going to be the kind of normal that they used to be, but that doesn’t matter. They can be a new normal, where sometimes you need a minute or an hour or a day or two to pull yourself out of whatever hole your brain wants to throw yourself in. And you don’t have to go into detail, but if you want to you can tell me you need a little bit and I can either leave you alone or distract you. But you don’t have to do things alone. It’s better with people.”
That’s the end of his speech, and hoo boy that’s the most he’s talked about himself in a long time. He’s feeling a bit drained from it, honestly, but that’s fine, because Angus is looking at him like he’s actually considering it, and he’ll take that as a win.
“I don’t have to talk about it?”
“Nope, don’t even have to tell me face to face. You can leave a note or something if you want, let me know you’re missing class or teaching lessons for some space and I won’t ask any questions.”
“…Okay. I think I can do that.”
Yes, he thinks to himself. Hell yeah. Score one for Lucas. “Awesome. Excellent. A score for both you and me.”
He snorts out a laugh, and oh thank the gods he’s laughing again.
“It’s… does it actually get easier to sort it all out?”
“Yeah, kid, it does.” And he’s being honest. He may have spent half a year alone not talking to anyone if he could help it, but it did get easier. He got better at not having a breakdown every time he thought about how badly he’d fucked his entire life up. “It’s hard, but it gets easier. And if you ever do actually want to talk, I’m all ears.”
“Thanks,” Angus says, smiling a little bit. “Can we, um, can we fix my light?”
“Yeah, that’s an easy project. No planning involved. All we need to do is find a light bulb.”
It takes way longer than he expected to find a light bulb, having to go into three separate janitors closets to find one that would work with his light, but eventually he’s back in Angus’s room, balanced precariously on a chair and screwing the fragile piece of glass into the ceiling.
“There!” he says as he finishes, hopping off the chair. Angus flips the switch and the light turns on.
“Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
“You don’t have to be so formal, you know. You are gonna be a teacher here, after all. You can just call me Lucas if you want.”
He seems to mull it over for a minute before nodding. “Okay, Mister Lucas.”
“Close enough,” he concedes. “You want me to stick around?”
“No, I’m okay now,” and he seems like he means it. “Thank you, though.”
“No problem,” he says, grabbing his things up. “Open office door, whenever you need it, okay?”
“Okay, Mister Lucas,” he says, mock annoyed. Lucas grins and turns to leave. “If, um, if you do actually need help with a presentation for the planar studies class in the future, just let me know. I’m sure I can get some information out of Mister Davenport of Barry if I need to.”
“Thanks,” he says, and then he leaves.
Lucas does not want kids. He does not want the stress and the time involved in making sure they’re fine and healthy and well adjusted. That’s never been a question for him.
But maybe he can take a little time out of his day to make sure his students are alright, that nothings going wrong in their lives, and leave his office door open for anyone who needs it.
If one kid can worm his way into Lucas’s heart, there’ll probably be more.
He can’t say he hates the idea.