deercountry | Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone

[Johnny hadn't slept much the last couple nights. It was more of a choice than the fact that he couldn't sleep. He was concerned about suddenly having a handful of kids under his roof that could be in danger from a pissed off Black Eyed Asshole, and Johnny had done enough to screw up his relationship with the last kid who lived here. He didn't want to make that mistake again and he wanted to make sure Paul and his friends were safe.

So he's just laying on a couch in the middle of the dojo with a beer in hand when he hears he cry. He's up on his feet in an instant and he smashes the bottle against the wall to give himself a weapon. ...He was going to hope LaRusso would clean that up tomorrow as part of some stupid form of training.

Either way he's on the move to Paul's "room" and he comes to a skidding halt as he checks to see if there's any sort of danger. No skelebros, no Black Eyes. It looked clear beyond the flames. Johnny cautiously speaks up as he drops the broken bottle.]

Paul? Kid? You awake?

[The shattering of glass should have woken Paul even before Johnny calls his name. Neither does, but his expression twists in greater fear as the sound slips into the weave of the dream.

His hands close into fists, flame licking through the seams ofhis knuckles as his head whips back and forth on his flat pillow.]

Don't -

[The word comes out in a panicked near-sob, heaved from whatever nightmare still holds him fast in unconsciousness.]

[Johnny waits a moment but doesn't get the response he's hoping for. There's a dumbfounded moment where he just stares at Paul as he tosses and turns. He never had an adult figure in his life who would comfort him when he was scared or afraid- So it takes his brain a moment to wrap around just what he should do.

In the end he steps down and moves to grab a hold of one Paul's hands while his free hand without a care for the flames. Being afraid of a little pain was for pussies as far as he was concerned. The other hand moves to gently shake his shoulder.]

Hey. Come on. Wake up, kid.

[The fire pulses under Johnny's hand, hot enough to leave a welter of shiny new scalds, not hot enough to blister, and Paul breaks out of the nightmare like he's coming up from the black sea, gasping and wild-eyed. He stares at Johnny's silhouette against the dark unseeingly, silver-~~gold~~ light fleeting in the blown out green rings of his irises.

He has spent almost all of his life cherished. His body remembers what to do, even if all other sense has left him, his arms coming up to clutch at his sensei with desperate tightness as Paul hides his face against his shoulder. His heart hammers at his ribs like an anvil, easily felt through his thin, soaked shirt, and his cooling fingers hook into the back of Johnny's.

He hitches out, still wrapped in the delirious, trembling tatters of his dream, with a voice too young for what he is and what he has done:] Dad.

[And with that, Paul Atreides, Duke of his House, Kwisatz Haderach, bloodied and severed left hand of an Emperor, bursts into exhausted, shivering tears.]

[Johnny just ignores the heat and holds on a little tighter as Paul's eyes finally open up. There's a vague sense of relief that floods over him to know that his students nightmare is open at least for now.

That relief is cut short as Paul suddenly embraces and clutches onto him. He feels his throat go dry as he realizes how desperately he's being held. There's a brief moment where he considers how many times he might have needed this in life and how many times that his own son might have that he wasn't there.

And then he hears that three letter word fall out from Paul's mouth and there are no words to describe the flood of emotions that go through him. There is a selfish part of him that wants to think that he's the one being called that. There are much bigger parts of him that know that can't be the case and he doesn't deserve it.

It takes him a moment but he lifts his arms and wraps them around Paul and just tries to provide him whatever awkward comfort he can.]

It's okay, kid. I'm here.

I'm here for you.

[Paul doesn't know what he's said, but he hears what Johnny does, and it wrenches a stutter into his next sob. It's pathetic, like the way he tries to pull himself up on the cot to sit and only half-makes it before he tips, unbalanced, back against Johnny.

He doesn't deserve this. He can't let it go. He's heartsick, hemorrhagic, and it's the first time since the ship the world has held steady around him, huddled in the shelter of his sensei's arms.

He doesn't try to stop. They're quiet tears, the kind that won't wake anyone as long as he stays where he is. The first wave is the worst of it, juddering like a ship bucking its steerer, before it breaks into torn little tremors.]

Sensei. [He chokes, when he can.] Sensei, I fucked up.

[Johnny feels himself getting ripped up from the inside out seeing, hearing, feeling Paul like this. If there was anything in the world he could do to take this child's pain away he would. But he knows he can't- He knows well enough from the mistakes he's made they're something Paul is probably going to have to live with for he rest of his life.

But... At the very least he wont have to face them alone.

Johnny doesn't let go. He just keeps on holding onto Paul as tight as he can. When he speaks up again his voice is hoarse and quiet like a whisper.]

I know...

But we're going to figure this out. Okay?

[The last teacher who promised Paul that they would figure things out together had the same clumsiness of care that Johnny does, as if he had forgotten (if he ever knew) how to comfort anyone else. He'd understood what it was like to have fucked up, too.

So perhaps Paul should know better. Perhaps he should stop wanting this. Cut out the part of him that finds safety here, that clings to that assurance like a rope tossed to a drowning man. Cauterize the wound it would leave with purpose and with fury, until there was nothing left but black inside his eyes.]

Okay.

[Paul echoes back, throat raw. He sits up enough to drag one of his hands back to scrub at his damp face with a sleeve folded over his hand, teenage embarrassment finding an unexpected gap to slip back through.

He corrects himself, quietly:] Yes, sensei.

[Johnny had spent a lot of time trying to avoid or cut away from the care he had been deprived of had failed to give to his loved ones. But it felt like lately the more he tried to tug away from the more he realized how weak he was for it.

He wasn't just trying to do right by his students. They were doing a lot of good for him too.

He feels a smile tug at his lips when Paul agrees and relaxes his grip only to put both hands on Paul's shoulders.]

Alright then.

I've got your back. We're going to face down whatever comes your way, and we're going to do it together.

Whether it's finding a way to own up to this shit or facing down anything new that comes your way.

You're going to be unstoppable by the time we're done.

[The smile that Paul manages in answer to Johnny's is a pale wreck of one, but it exists, shining through the slick of his face that all the sodden scrubbing in the world can't correct. ]

Yes, sensei.

[There are so many ways to say two words. This time, Paul says them sleepily, but sincerely. He doesn't have to believe in himself now, in the quiet, desperate, thin hours of night. He can let Johnny believe in him, and it's enough to let him lie back down on his side in his cot, disentangling from Johnny as gracefully as he can. For the most part.]

I'm sorry I woke you up.

[It's too much to ask him to stay until Paul falls back asleep aloud. Paul goes silent with his face half-turned into his pillow, his fingers casually, absently circled around Johnny's wrist.

(He still doesn't know what he's done, from his betraying tongue to the sear on Johnny's hand. He knows that it feels like something has passed over him: a sword, a storm. He knows that he thinks that if he sleeps now, freshly scoured of tears, he might stay asleep, and that's a gift in itself.)]

Thank you.

[Johnny let's Paul slip away and he feels a tinge of relief that the boy has managed to calm down. His experience in situations like this left him wondering if what he had said was right or if might end up causing more trouble than he had meant to.

Either way he makes a fist and lightly taps it against Paul's shoulder. Ignoring the pain from the burn for now.]

Don't mention it, kid. If you need anything else. Just ask. Or I'll be around.

[He starts to pull himself off the bed and there's an awkward moment where he stares at the sheets. ...Does he tuck him in? No- He was told old for that. He didn't want to embarrass him around the other kids too. That'd be the worst.

Instead he'll reach down and ruffle Paul's hair just a little.]

Just try and get some sleep. We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow.

[...And with that he quietly heads toward the door and closes it behind him. He only gets a few steps away before he leans up against the wall. He slides down against it to the floor and settles in there. If something happens again it'd probably be best if he was close by.]

[Paul leans into the tap against his shoulder with enough eagerness as it is, but how he presses slightly up against the ruffling of his hair with wide eyes and an extraordinary carefulness of composure around his mouth is what's the most telling. He nods too quickly, drawing the blankets up over himself, grateful for the shadows that he thinks help hide the sheen still over his eyes.

(They don't. They only make him look softer, erase a handful of years from his already-young features. The boy who tucks himself into bed is truly, and only, a boy.)]

Yes, sensei. [Quietly, like he's holding something precious on the tip of his tongue, and is afraid to break it.] Good night, sensei.

[His eyes are shut when Johnny leaves. His ears have no such property of closure. He listens to the footsteps stop, the slide down the wall, and the words for how he feels are close at hand, a warm scrawl inside his heart as his breathing slows, and he slips into dreamless sleep.]

Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone

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