A Homecoming of Sorts (Open)

Well, Beatrix, despite all the crap she’d been through, hadn’t changed much. She was still a bit of a brat, who thought she knew better than her elders. Loren immediately felt ashamed at the thought: she was a child who’d been through unspeakable tragedies, and was coping with it all the best she could. That he had also suffered didn’t matter. He was the adult here, and it was time he started acting like one. His own grief could wait until he made sure the people who were apparently his responsibility now—his family, he reminded himself firmly, what little was left of it—were taken care of. Whatever else he’d learned from the Launceleyns, and however much he might hate it, Loren knew family came first. So no matter how much Beatrix’s words stung, no matter how much they cut him to the core, he needed to remain calm, patient, and understanding. The tears in her eyes brought a similar wetness to his own, but he refused to let them fall. “You’re right. About all of that.” He couldn’t deny that he’d abandoned them. Granted they’d treated him like crap for so long that it was remarkable he’d lasted as long as he did (the threat of being tortured again went a long way). "But I came back. And I’m here, now, and I’m still family. And I will do my best to make it up to you.” He didn’t promise, though; Loren wasn’t willing to make that promise, and he didn’t think she’d believe him anyway. Once again, Beatrix was correct and Loren felt more and more like a fool. “You did say that, I’m sorry. It was just a lot to take in.” Then and there he resolved to pay more attention to her: even if the information was overwhelming, she clearly needed him a lot more than he needed her. "Do you know where his boyfriend lives?" He'd hesitated before asking (it was still weird to think of that being okay), but it seemed like a logical place to look. Then his heart almost broke when he heard that Beatrix was planning Edy’s funeral. He did cry, then, though silently, as he’d trained himself to do. Crying would bring punishment, and so he’d learned how to do it without being seen, or noticed. There was no one here to hurt him, but old habits were nearly impossible to break. Doing his best to keep the sobs from his voice, Loren started walking forward, following Beatrix up the stairs. “Let me help you.” Assisting with the funeral was the least that Loren could do. Then there was another suckerpunch, though at this point Loren was running out of emotions. Jace, instead of coming to greet Loren, went back to putting together Edy’s things. The former librarian’s eyes widened at some of it (a lot was definitely not appropriate for children, which, given it was Edy’s stuff, wasn’t surprising), but mostly Loren was depressed at the sight of these two children shouldering burdens far beyond their years. It wasn’t shocking that Jace didn’t recognize his supposed uncle. Loren still didn’t believe Neron had gotten Zariah knocked up (less the getting someone knocked up, since his twin was highly irresponsible, more the fact that it was Zariah of all people), but they all thought Jace was Loren’s nephew, so the former librarian probably should do the same. Kneeling down, Loren picked up one of the sex toys strewn on the floor, taking it out of reach of the kids. “Jace? It’s your Uncle Loren. I know you probably don’t remember me, since I was gone for a long time, but I’m home now.” Glancing at Beatrix, Loren added softly, “and I’m family.” How the mighty had fallen: the once proud Launceleyns had been reduced to children and a fool. LOREN Not quite an open book