He goes to the meadow because it’s what he does in any time of distress. The season changes around him, from late summer to fall and it’s a kind of rippling that kills the grass and he watches it reach where she’s sitting by his favorite oak tree. The sight of her stops him in his tracks this time and he stops halfway across the field, his hands in his pockets. Because while she’d been familiar before, there’s no mistaking it now and the realization nearly brings him to his knees right then and there. He wants to call out to her but he doesn’t, just stands there and looks out at her for a moment before continuing forward. For all the time he has had, he does not think he will ever have enough to make it up to her.
It is with great care that he sits before her, legs crossed, all too casual much like that first time they’d met. His elbows rest on his knees and he just watches her for a moment and there’s so much of her mother there that he’s shocked he didn’t see it sooner. But there’s some of him too, just like with Micah.
“Hi.” His voice is hoarse, he’s spent the last few days talking. To himself, to Meryasek, to Zahrya, but before Emma, he has too many words to say. There’s questions, there’s an apology, there’s so many words he wants to say but nothing else comes out and he finds himself just watching her and he’s never been particularly touchy he thinks, but he moves of his own accord. Because he gives a slight shake of his head and moves from sitting before her to sitting next to her, back against the strong bark of the oak tree and it’s tentative, the way he wraps an arm around her shoulders. It’s there, it’s only when he’s side to side with his daughter does the dam finally break.
“I should have known. I should have known and I should have been there and I need you to know that had I known, I would have been there. I would have given it all up for all three of you.” It’s a quiet kind of confidence as rust colored leaves drift down from the tree’s branches.
