“Me?” Grayson asked, surprised. He knit his brows together, wondering what on Earth the man could possibly need him for, that also managed to work him up quite this much. Usually it always had to do with Emma - he was starting to get slightly nervous as he took in his appearance. In all the years they’d been friends, he wasn’t sure he’d even seen the other man look quite as untidy as he did now. “Well…” He started with a sigh, not one to deny one of his friends when they were so clearly in need. “Come on, then.”
He gestured for Ryan to follow him as he made his way through to the kitchen, snagging a bottle of bourbon on the way by. It might be a little early to start drinking, but he had a feeling they might need it sooner rather than later. He moved the kettle onto a burner, flicking it on with his wand for good measure. There was very little that couldn’t be helped by a strong glass of bourbon or a strong cup of tea (or a strong cup of both), and he wanted to make sure he had all of his bases covered before getting into why Ryan was here. A small part of him registered that he was procrastinating, but his friend’s next words cut through his thoughts.
“Wait, what?” He spun on his heel, nearly dropping the bottle in his hands in shock. In a wild moment of selfish satisfaction, Grayson almost laughed. It was sick of him, but he was glad that after everything that had been kept from him and happened to him over the years, the other man seemed to be paying for it now. He swallowed hard, all his mirth gone as quickly as it had come as he took in Ryan’s demeanor, and it left a crushing guilt in it’s place. He frowned, disappointed in himself. This was his friend, in a complicated situation, and that’s what was important right now. “But it is happening. I guess I kind of get why you needed me instead of Emma.” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he thought. “Well, at least the two of you like each other already. That’s a start.”
He shook his head, pushing his friend toward the couch, thinking it might be easier if they were seated. That way, if it all became too much and Ryan passed out or something, Grayson could just leave him until he came to. “How did you find out? Wait no, who’s her mom?”
“I know, I know,” Ryan sighed, rolling his eyes rubbing at his face in exhaustion. “Any talk of karma or how I had this coming to me can just come out right now because, while I’m sure there will be one day where I am able to laugh over the fact that this is now happening to me, I’m not there just yet,” he spoke in a harsh tone, one he quickly realized was unjustified. “Sorry, I just, lot of emotions and shit...”
Collapsing into the couch, he let his head fall into his hands in despair. He didn’t know how to process the information and thoughts raced through his mind. He was terrified far more than he dared admit, feeling an incredible amount of guilt towards Dakota, yet there also sat an odd satisfaction, an odd feeling of utter happiness at the fact that she was actually his daughter. He had long since thought of her as such, but there had always been that thought in the back of his mind reminding him that no, Dakota wasn’t truly his and he shouldn’t overstep his bounds.
“Isabelle Pierce, you might remember her from our time at Hogwarts? She died a few years ago now. She was practically my saving grace when you and Sophia finally got together,” Ryan chuckled humorlessly at the memory. As soon as it became clear that he had been a very awkward third wheel in their little friendship he had focused on getting out there and having a little fun of his own, only one person had been determined enough to force a friendship onto him along with the occasional night together, and now it seemed that their odd relationship had brought him Dakota.
“Dakota, she, she found out when she visited her aunt. Turns out the woman had known for years, just didn’t think we ought to bloody know too,” he clenched his fists, despite the small nagging thought that he had been in exactly the same position of knowing and doing nothing to the man who sat opposite him. Hesitantly glancing upwards, he looked to Grayson curiously, thoughts still running through his mind at a million miles an hour. “How did you never hex me when you found about Connor? Because, honestly, I’m about ready to fly to Canada and hex Isabelle’s bloody sister.”
