Damien's Rough Morning. (TW: dysphoria)
I’m sorry I have the tendency to project on my favorite characters, esp ones I relate to. I needed to write this out. Smallmarch undertones. Plus I’m not a great writer I just wanted to vent into writing so… Sorry?
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One extraordinarily bright morning, Damien discovered his curtains were not quite closed and his face just happened to be in the line of fire. He groaned softly and was prepared to cover his face and go back to sleep– it was his day off, who could blame him– and as soon as he rolled over he was aware of the soreness in his upper body. He looked down to realize that he was not in his usual black baggy t-shirt for bed, but instead his binder. He frowned, silently cursing himself as he sat up. Damien was usually so careful about binding, but he must have been so tired after his shift the night before that he forgot to take it off. Binding safety had always been his number one priority… If it was done wrong, his top surgery could be complicated. Letting out a huge sigh, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and trudged into the bathroom for his morning routine.
When he was out of the shower, he wrapped himself in a long black silk robe and made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast for Lucien. He got out his gluten-free pancake mix and the rest of the ingredients, his robe loosening as he moved about the room. He kept tightening the knot and adjusting the sleeves, irritated. He felt like sobbing; while his chest wasn’t as prominent as before, they were still very much there, and he hated it.
Lucien’s heavy combat boots stopped down the hallway as he was getting ready for school. He was a senior now, and his schedule had thankfully allowed him to start the day later on. He was surprised to see his dad out of his usual attire. “Hey… Something happen to your vest or something?”
Damien shook his head, “No, son. Do you want blueberries?”
“Yeah, on the side.” Lucien sat at the breakfast table as his dad finished up the pancakes and brought them to the table. As Damien sat down, his son could clearly see that he had been crying. “…are you ok?”
Damien, who was forking his pancake, looked up, tugging a stray hair behind his ear. He cleared his throat. “…hard morning.” Was all he could manage.
Lucien frowned. “Is.. is it a dysphoria thing? If.. that’s the case I can stay home. I mean…”
“Yes. It is. But Lucien, you will not use me as an excuse not to go to school. You have to get your Government grades up. I’ll be fine.” Damien sighed. He was usually good at fronting an image when this happened, but he was clearly struggling. He felt bad leaning on his son for support.
“..Okay.” Lucien said, scarfing down the last of his pancake. He made it a point to be more thankful. “I really appreciate you… Making breakfast. Uh… I love you, Dad.” He offered a small smile to his father.
“I love you too, son.” Damien felt a little better knowing that his son was always supportive and knew that he was having an incredibly hard time.
Damien began to clean up breakfast, quietly thanking Lucien for giving him something else to intensely focus on. He then received a message from Robert.
‘Lucien told me you’re having a rough morning. I’m coming over.’
Sure enough, less than a minute later, there was a knock at the door. Robert let himself in, closing the large doors behind him. “Damien?”
Damien frowned. “Please don’t look at me right now, Robert. I’m terribly under dressed, and I am quite uncomfortable at the moment.”
Robert sighed, raising his voice slightly so he could be heard. “I could bring you some… Baggy clothing? And then you could walk over to my place and play with Betsy. That usually helps.”
“… That sounds great.” Damien replied after a moment, hiding away in the kitchen still.
“I’ll be right back with the clothes.”
“I’ll be outside the lavatory, if you could please set the clothes outside them and knock on the door when they are there.”
“Sure thing.” Robert says as he turns around to leave.
When Robert returns again, he could hear quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. He hated seeing Damien like this. He set the clothes on the floor in front of the door and knocked softly. He knew Damien wasn’t okay, and there was no point in asking.
When Damien finally got changed he walked out in a huge baggy black shirt and cargo pants. His hair was tied up. It, in all honesty, was different, but was a good look. They walked silently to Robert’s and Betsy immediately greeted to two, focusing on Damien. She hated seeing one of her favorite humans sad and tried her best to console him with kisses.
The three of them curled up on the couch, watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers. Damien felt a lot better, having someone who cared, a dog, and a brief distraction from reality as he took a nap on Robert’s shoulder, Betsy sprawled out in both of their laps.
