The Weight of Family and the Pull of Gravity

July 3, 2020
It’s a quieter day at the Big Team Base, meaning that people were out on missions, but not everyone, and none of those people were currently Ryan. They’re not looking for Ernest in particular – they are in fact looking for the kitchen, and happen to find Ernest along with it – but it’s an added benefit. It’s not that they’ve been eagerly following Ernest’s sudden rise to apparent stardom, but it’s been interesting and more than a little wild, and one thing he’d mentioned recently had, well. It had stuck with Ryan. 
“Hey, Ernest?” They ask, and then remember their manners. “Uh, hi. Do...you mind if I ask you a kind of personal question?”
Ernest’s gut reaction is a resounding ‘Please don’t.’
Ever since the videos of his fight on the Zodiac Tree went viral, he’s been flooded with personal questions from news stations and fans. Some are incredibly invasive that he wouldn’t want to answer for anyone, others are uncomfortable coming from complete strangers, and others still he doesn’t mind sharing the answers to but become irritating with repetition.
But Ryan isn’t a stranger, they’re a teammate, and one Ernest hopes to get to know better. So he stops rifling through the cabinets looking for unconventional ingredients and sits down at the table. “Sure, what’s up?”
“What’s it like, having your dad back in town?” They ask, before they can lose their nerve entirely. They pause, worrying at their lower lip, and then decide to put their cards on the table. “I’m asking because – well – my dad is back in town, and I’m trying to figure out whether or not to talk to him, but last time I did, he was really not a fan of...powers. Or me having them. Or,” and Ryan drops their voice in a horrible imitation they have no intention of improving, “‘Masked vigilantism,’ so that’s, uh, the ‘cons’ side of the argument. ‘Pros’ are pretty much...he’s my dad? I guess?” 
They shrug with one shoulder, trying to convey the entire mess of emotions stuck together around Bill Young in their mind--it is supremely ineffective--and drop down into one of the seats in the kitchen. “So I guess I was just wondering how you’re dealing with, uh. Your whole dad situation.” 
“It’s good.” Ernest responds automatically, used to needing to justify his decision to ask Harold Welles to stay at the new house to Boon and Kurt. It’s not a complete lie, given that the two of them are on better terms than they had been for a long time, but it’s not entirely accurate either. “It’s… complicated, I guess. I mean, at least this time I knew he was coming to Halcyon and wanted him here, even if he got here a little early. The first time he showed up…” He grimaces, weighing how much of the story to lay on Ryan. Probably best to not overwhelm them, especially if they’re trying to figure out what to do about their own dad. “Let’s just say it didn’t go well.”
Ernest places his elbows on the table and runs his fingers through his hair. “My dad didn’t really like my powers either, once I stopped being able to hide them. We used to fight about it all the time, which didn’t really help things since my powers respond to my emotions, so…” He summons a mini thunderstorm between his hands in demonstration before dropping them back to the table. “I completely stopped talking to him after I moved to Halcyon with mom and Timothy. That meant we didn’t argue anymore, but it also didn’t fix anything? So like, I can’t promise that talking to your dad will make things better, but if you don’t talk to him they probably won’t change.”
That...sounds like it’s probably true. Ryan drops into the other chair, leaning back in it; their hands are still shoved into the pockets of their mom’s old hoodie, picking at the pocket lint in the corners. 
“That’s fair,” they say, unsure how else to respond. “I mean, you’re probably right. It’s just that last time we talked, it was really bad. I mean, it was right after--” how do they say it? They still can’t find quite the right way to put what happened that day in the museum-- “the stuff with mom, and I didn’t expect him to come to town in the first place, and--well, he already was unnerved enough by the fact that I see things sometimes. There’s a reason he left pretty soon after I got my powers, I guess.” Not that Ryan had ever brought that up with either parent, but they didn’t really need to; they could see the fights, how long ago they had started, when they’d become more common. 
But that’s not what they’re talking about right now. “He did not take “I got a magic gauntlet in the same incident that left me without a legal guardian” very well, and I didn’t take him suggesting I drop the gauntlet very well – honestly, I didn’t take him showing up at all very well – and…” They shrug with one shoulder again.
“Then I left. But even before that, I hadn’t talked to him for...two years, I think. And yeah, it didn’t really make anything better, but it was fine, because I had mom.” They sigh. “And now I don’t.” 
Heck. They hadn’t meant to talk about that, as much. Of course, Ernest knows that Ryan’s mom is gone, probably; most people at the base do. But it’s an entirely different problem than the stuff with Bill, and much harder to deal with. 
“Anyway. I’m, uh, glad it’s going well for you. Or at least, better than it had been going,” Ryan amends, because while Ernest had said it was good, his face hadn’t agreed with the sentiment. “I...probably should talk to him. I’m just worried that all that will happen is he’ll piss me off, we’ll argue again, and then, I don’t know, he could probably pull something if he wanted to about me being on Big Team, given that legally he’s in charge of me.” Ryan winces. It’s a worst-case scenario, but it’s something they’re worrying about. 
Ernest listens patiently, nodding in sympathy at points during Ryan’s explanation. Certain parts resonate with his own experience, and he can’t help sharing. “My dad never liked my synesthesia. It didn’t really help that the doctors told my parents that I was just making up all the colors and shapes I was seeing. We fought about that a lot, and even after my synesthesia was diagnosed it always felt like we were arguing over something or the other. And that was before I got my powers.”
He wonders sometimes, if he had told his family about his powers when they started manifesting instead of hiding them for years, if things might have turned out differently. But after years of all the comments about his synesthesia, he hadn’t wanted to add to the list of things that made him different. He just wishes he realized that it couldn’t have lasted forever.
“I… kind of get what you’re worried about though,” Ernest says, picking at a peeling piece of paint on the edge of the table. “I still haven’t talked to my dad about what happened with the batteries project he started at Bishop.” All of the hurt it ended up causing, not just for him, but his teammates and innocent people as well. “It was easy to just avoid the topic when we were just talking over email or the phone. But now that I’m actually seeing him every day, it feels weird to keep hiding it from him? It’s just… it’s been nice to finally not be fighting. I don’t know if telling him about what happened is worth starting that up again. And I don’t even have to worry about him trying to do anything about Big Team, since I’m legally an adult anyway.”
Ernest taps out a syncopated rhythm against his leg, caught up in trying to think through both his and Ryan’s problems at the same time. “I guess…” he starts slowly, trying to pull out some piece of cohesive advice from his own experiences, “is there something good you’re hoping might happen if you talk to your dad? Like I said, that might not actually happen. But if there’s nothing good at all, then it might not be worth the risk?”
It’s been nice to finally not be fighting. Ryan can barely remember that with Bill, even though it was only two, three years ago that they could talk on the phone without yelling at each other--but then, Ernest has a point there, too. How often did they speak about Ryan’s retrocognition on the phone? Had they just been avoiding that topic as well, because it would be unpleasant, because they only had a phone call before Bill had to get back to work or Ryan had to go to school and it was better not to spend it upset? 
“People thought I was making up the retrocognition for a bit, until I started being right about things that I hadn’t seen,” Ryan says, agreeing with the earlier part of what Ernest says as they think about the later comments. They hadn’t thought about the fact that there was no way to externally verify synesthesia, which...“I guess I got lucky, though, in that it was pretty easy to fact-check my stuff.” They let out a breath of air and slump back in their chair, worrying at their lip. 
“I guess – I guess I’m not really hoping something good will happen, but my sister is. She asked me to think about talking to him again, and she’s most of the reason I’m mad at him in the first place, so I guess...I guess I feel like if she’s willing to try to mend bridges, I should be too? And she says he’s worried about me.” They shake their head, still unsure of how that happened--the conversation, Emmy being willing to forgive Bill, the concern about Ryan. Easier to move on to answering Ernest’s question than to dwell on that too long. 
“I guess...I mean, it would be nice if it turns out he’s rethought some things and grown as a person, you know, and it would mean I have like, a parent and legal guardian who I can stay with, and maybe I’d like, get to know him as an actual person instead of someone on the other side of a phone?” It had been something Ryan had thought about a lot, when they were younger--well, obviously not the part about wanting their dad to have grown as a person, but the rest of it. “I kind of gave up on all of that around two years ago, though, so it’s weird to think about now.” 
Ernest leans forward, propping his chin up on one hand. “Yeah, I’ve been there too with a sibling. My younger brother, Timothy, always got along better with our dad than I did, although I think our dad trying to send me away to have my powers studied was a sore spot for a while.” Enough for Timothy to want to move to Halcyon for a while, even if he eventually decided he’d rather be back in New York. “But yeah, Timothy really tried to get me to reconnect with our dad when he showed up in Halcyon which…” Ernest shrugs. It hadn’t exactly gone well, but he didn’t blame Timothy for trying.
“Just because your sister was able to make up with him doesn’t mean that you have to. Timothy ended up wanting to live with our dad again, but even though we’re on better terms now, that’s not really something I’d want.” He cocks his head to the side. “I mean, I guess I am living with him again right now, technically. Only temporarily though.” As much as he enjoyed getting to hang out with Timothy again, he was also looking forward to Harold having a slightly more distant presence again. And fewer poorly veiled threats from Boon and Maggie would be nice. “But assuming your sister isn’t a terrible judge of character, it sounds like there’s some hope your dad won’t just be a complete asshole to you.”
“Siblings,” Ryan says, amused despite themself. “At least you usually know they’re doing what they think is best for you, right?” It was a good point – they didn’t think Emmy would intentionally send them into a massive fight, of course. “I mean, she also lived with him a lot longer than I did. She was ten when he left, I was only five. Probably helped the whole ‘reconnecting’ business.” 
And that’s another complication – if Bill was closer to Emmy, which he should have been, why didn’t he come back for her? Why did he come back for Ryan, two years later, when Ryan was the child he knew least and found most unnerving? But Ernest isn’t going to have the answers to that question, Ryan knows. The only person who will is Bill himself.
“I do trust that Emmy isn’t throwing me straight back into an argument,” they allow, putting their thoughts together. “I guess...some part of me had sort of made this a black and white thing, you know? Talk to him, move back in with him, forgive him for the shit he’s pulled, or don’t talk to him and do none of that.” It sounds stupid, when they put it like that, but it’s what they had been thinking. But Ernest is living with his dad, temporarily, and that doesn’t mean he’s alright with shit his dad has pulled, or even that he plans to keep living with his dad. 
“But...I’m not committing to anything other than a conversation, if I go talk to him. And I’m really not sure I’m ready to commit to anything more than a conversation at this point.” It’s going to take a really good explanation for two years ago, for one, but Ryan’s never going to get that if they never ask Bill about it. “And if Emmy did read the situation wrong and he is gonna be a complete asshole about things, I could just...leave.” They are a superhero, after all. It’s gonna be pretty hard for Bill to make them stay, especially if he’s being an ass. 
“Yeah, I get feeling like it’s all or nothing sometimes,” Ernest says. “Like when Timothy was moving back to New York it felt like I either had to figure out how to get him and dad to stay, or move back with dad to New York, or never talk to either of them again. But when I realized that I could still talk with them even if they were living somewhere else, that made things a lot easier.” If he’d realized that sooner, he could have saved everyone a lot of trouble. “It sounds silly when I put it like that but… I cut a lot of people off when we moved to Halcyon, and for a while it seemed like the only thing that could happen if they moved back without me.”
“Boon tried to give me some advice once, about setting boundaries with my dad. I didn’t really take it to heart at the time, since I was all caught up in being angry and wanting an apology and not being able to just ignore everything forever like I’d hoped. But I think she had the right idea. You can decide to talk to him for now, and whether you want to keep talking with him or move in or anything else can come after how that conversation goes.“ He reaches out and nudges Ryan’s shoulder encouragingly. “Not that I think you need the backup, but if it does go poorly, Boon is very enthusiastic about punching terrible dads.”
Ryan snorts in amusement, unable to avoid smiling. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind. Both the thing about boundaries and about going to Boon if Bill needs to get punched. I mean, I’d do it myself, but I’m pretty sure Boon is better at punching than I ever will be, so I’ll leave it to the experts.” They’ve seen Boon hit people; it’s enough to make them very glad she’s on Big Team. 
“Also, thanks,” They follow up, after a moment. “I know I kinda, uh, dumped all of this on you in the middle of the kitchen. So thanks for listening and helping me get my thoughts–” they gesture vaguely. “Sorted, I guess. I’ve got a better idea of what I should do next, although as for long term stuff...who knows. Depends on a lot, I guess – if I can get mom back, if he stays in Halcyon, if our talk goes well.” They shrug. “So we’ll see where it goes. And, uh--I’m not sure if you’ll ever need it, but if you ever want to talk about something, I’m all ears, okay? Even if it’s just complaining because your fans are ignoring your privacy, or a mission went badly.” 
“Hey, I’m glad I could help.” Ernest smiles back at Ryan. The conversation had helped him think over bringing up Bishop with his dad as well. If anything, it would be easier to have that talk in person, before Harold and Timothy returned to New York City. “I hope stuff goes well, but yeah, if you want to talk things over again, just let me know. And thanks for the offer. It can be hard to complain about thousands of people wanting to know me better without feeling like a self-centered asshole, but it does get a little overwhelming sometimes,” he admits.
He stands from the table, pushing the chair back with a charcoal colored screech. “Alright, I’m going to get back to looking for things I can add to some Fourth of July snacks to kick them up a notch. Open to suggestions if you’ve got any.”
Ryan also stands, tucking their hands back into their pockets. “Hey, I don’t think you sound like a self-centered asshole. I’d be in hell if that many people wanted details about me, I can’t even imagine. I’d fake my own disappearance in a week, tops.” Their shudder is only half a joke; they can’t imagine being swamped with attention and questions the way Ernest is now. It’s honestly really impressive the way Ernest puts up with it, in their mind. 
“And oh man, I’m not great at making snacks.” They can cook, well enough to feed themself most of the time, but they never have the time or interest to make anything fancy. “Uh...throw in a lot of red and blue stuff? Something that has to do with fireworks that doesn’t involve blowing food up? I don’t know. My area of expertise is weird niche facts, not inventive recipes,” they add, apologetically. “Best of luck, though. I’ll look forward to seeing whatever you come up with!”
Ernest ponders the information for a moment before coming to a sudden revelation. “That’s it - pop rocks! They taste like how fireworks sound, but in your mouth. I’ll bring some to taste test if you’re here when I get back!” he calls over his shoulder as he heads for the door.
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