Work Text:
Today has been a long day. The work seemed to never cease.
But at some point, the Knowing Mentor finally gave Beau a moment of grace.
So she did what any rational adult would do with such an opportunity.
She bailed the fuck out of there.
She had to get home or she was going to go stir-crazy, or at least more so than usual.
So she runs. And runs. And runs.
And she continues to sprint until she arrives at the front of the house. Upon catching her breath, she announces her presence with all the grace of a stampeding owlbear and kicks the door open.
A little too hard, she realizes, as the door ends up snapping off its hinges.
Shit. And she thought that only Yasha was that strong.
Upon the door flying open, three heads turn in her direction, all of them wearing expressions of shock, surprise, and a healthy mix of bewilderment, humor, and cringe.
“Uh… I’m home,” Beau says as she waves awkwardly.
“W-Welcome back, baby,” Yasha replies, having paused mid-cooking. Clara and TJ are awaiting their dinner at the table. “Um, how was work? And… the door…”
It takes a moment to process what’s in front of her, another moment to hear Yasha’s words… and a third to remember the door. “Oh, crap! Sorry!”
Her brain sputters as she takes hold of the door and props it up at the threshold. “Damn. We’ll have to get this fixed. Sorry, I don't know my own strength.”
Clara is just nodding. “Don’t worry about it, Beau. Um, did you need a moment?”
“Y-Yeah, just… I’m all wound up, I just need to relax.”
TJ is just all smiles. “Does Sistah need a nap?”
Beau turns to her little brother and returns his smile with her own. “Maybe so. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” She then begins to walk upstairs before turning to look in Yasha’s direction. “Um, honey, is that supposed to smoke like that?”
“Hmm?” Yasha tilts her head before it finally dawns on her. “Oh shit!”
“Yasha! Language!”
“Hahahahaha!”
Beau just smiles to herself as she ascends the stairs and closes the door to her and Yasha’s bedroom.
It’s been such a long-ass day! She just wants to lay down and take a nap. She just wants to not have to think about intelligence reports or suspicious inventories or other shit like that. She’s home, she’s hungry, and she wants to fucking relax without punching or bending any spines, whether it’s a book or a bastard.
First and foremost, though, she really needs to change out of her sweaty clothes.
Beau plants her ass on the bed and reaches down to unbuckle and take off her boots. Once those and her knee socks are disposed of, she starts to unlace and shed her layers, eventually stripping down to her undershirt and shorts that she wore under her baggy pants. Just the sheer lack of clothing is enough to destress her a little.
She briefly stands to take the lantern in the room and light it up before sitting back down on the bed, maneuvering her fingers behind her head and pulling at her braids.
This was the worst part. Normally, she’d have Yasha help her out with it, to unravel her hair so that she could take off the diadem adorning her head. Right now, she doesn’t want to think as clearly. She wants to be all “no thoughts, head empty, only family time”.
She briefly wonders if she should have the circlet customized to be a choker, like she had once thought, before she hears a soft knock on the door interrupting her progress, little as it was.
Beau sighs a little before raising her tone a bit. “Yash? It’s dinner time already?”
“No, it’s me. Can I come in?” A pause. “Are you… decent?”
Oh. It’s her mom. “Oh, yeah. Sure. And yes, Mom, I’m…” She chuckles. “I’m as decent as I can be.”
“Oh gods…” Clara mutters as she steps into the bedroom, eyeing the discarded articles strewn all over the floor before locking eyes with her daughter. “Seriously, Beau?”
Beau just shrugs her shoulders. Clara just shakes her head with a chuckle as she gathers the clothes and places them in a basket for later.
“Hey. Mom.”
Clara looks up. “Yes?”
Beau motions to the braids still in need of pulling, and the circlet still attached. “Can you give me a hand? I need to get this thing off.”
She nods as she crawls onto the bed and sits on her knees. Beau backs up until her mother is right behind her.
“You want it removed, right? Would you like your braids redone as well?”
Beau shakes her head. “Nah. Just undo them all. I need to unwind.”
“Okay.” She hears Clara exhale, and in such close proximity Beau can feel her mother’s breath. And then she feels hands on her hair, making her tense.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Beau nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” She starts to look over her shoulder before turning her head forward again. “Sorry, it’s… It’s been a while.”
Clara hums in acknowledgment. “It sure has. How long has it been?”
Beau raises an eyebrow. “Since when?”
Clara sighs. “Since it’s just been us? Just… a mother and child, acting like this?”
Beau pauses, unable to really come up with a good enough answer. She eventually settles on a neutral, yet relatable answer.
“Too long.”
“You’re right. It has.”
Clara doesn’t say much after that as she slowly pulls at the braids, slowly unraveling them one at a time. The feeling is rather nostalgic to Beau, the rare times when Thoreau was out of the house and her mother was able to act like a proper parent.
Some of the few instances of “normalcy”, now that she thinks about it. “It feels nice.”
“I’m glad I’m remembering,” Clara replies, tugging at a particularly tight knot. “This is going to take a while.”
Indeed it does take a while, but eventually Clara succeeds in completely untangling the diadem from her hair. Upon the liberation of the circlet, Beau shakes her head roughly. It feels good to have her hair down after a long day… as well as her brain being allowed to rest without having such intense mental focus magically imbued upon her noggin.
“Ah, much better. Thanks.”
Clara doesn’t reply right away, still running her hands over her daughter’s hair, sometimes brushing her fingers along the undercut. “You’ve grown up so much. But I can tell you’re still my little girl.”
Beau can sense her mother leaning backward, so she allows herself to recline as well. Soon enough, Clara’s back is against the headboard and Beau’s lying on her own back, her mother’s fingers still stroking her hair. It feels really, really nice.
The two of them just remain where they are in silence. In fact, the only sounds they can hear are Yasha and TJ down below, probably playing around.
The silence eventually breaks.
“I’m glad we were able to start over…”
Beau looks up at her mother from her current position. “Me too.”
The noises downstairs seem to be getting a little louder. Not quite a cause of concern… yet.
“I’d been worried about where we stood, worried that because I didn’t do enough in the past… I wouldn’t have had a chance to make it right.”
“Mom…” Beau speaks up, noticing her mother’s face shining with tears. She reaches up to wipe some of them away. “What’s done is done. We can’t change the past, but we can decide what to do going forward.”
Clara nods. Beau continues. “And I’m not going to lie, having this much physical contact with those I care about… it really does feel good.”
Clara is smiling. “It does, huh?”
More silence surrounds them. The window leading outside has its curtains pulled, but the sunset can still be seen peeking through.
“Anyway,” Clara says as she begins to liberate herself from her daughter’s presence, “I think we should get downstairs. I’m a little worried about—”
“SHIT!”
The sudden exclamation makes them jump to attention, as does the sudden loud clanging and TJ’s howling laughter. And Yasha shouting curses in another language, but whether in Abyssal or Celestial is anyone’s guess.
Probably both.
Beau and Clara look at each other, wearing matching expressions of cringe.
“Too late,” they say in unison, but they’re full of smiles as Clara steps out of the room, leaving Beau to find some loose clothes to wear for tonight’s meal before making her way too.
This would certainly be a fun evening. But in the best way.