Logs:Responds Well

Responds Well
Dramatis Personae Jax, Spencer
In Absentia	2020-09-17 "I'm scared, Pa."
Location <NYC> Guerrilla Garden - Lower East Side
Situated on the lot directly adjacent to the distinctive sleek form of the Mendel Clinic, this space was once abandoned. The chainlink fence around it is still rusty, dilapidated, and the signs affixed to it still unwelcoming -- rusty as well, reading KEEP OUT, and PRIVATE PROPERTY. For those who venture into the slitted gap cut out of the fence, though, the yard within tells a different story. Neat and cleaned of any garbage and weeds, the once-abandoned lot has been rebuilt. Packing crates have been broken down for their wood to create raised beds full of rich soil, each bed neatly tilled and tended. Stakes label the different plants growing -- a wealth of vegetables growing three seasons of the year in the carefully tended soil. Around the edges of the lot, smaller beds have had brightly coloured flowers planted, lending even more cheer to the little hidden garden. Very eclectically mismatched seating has been brought in; old packing crates, chairs scavenged from curbs, though it's all been brightly painted. The light is already starting to fade by the time the Hollands emerge from Mendel Clinic, though the day is still plenty warm, the breeze off of the East River pleasantly cool on the skin. Spencer veers into the garden, uncharacteristically quiet, though he doesn't stray in far. Just drops down onto an inverted milk crate, visibly trying not to show how winded he is. He's dressed in a gray t-shirt with the Amulet of Daylight from Trollhunters on the chest, royal blue shorts with a black stripe along the outseam, and gray canvas sneakers, a black kippah on his head with a red Star Wars Rebel Alliance crest on it. He chews on his lower lip while trying and failing to look like he's not catching his breath, but finally he blurts, "I'm scared, Pa." Jax follows Spencer inside, his own attire muted today -- a green tee whose graphic is mostly obscured beneath the front panel of his baggy overalls, black Chucks with rainbow laces, large mirrored dark glasses. He drags a crate over beside Spencer's, dropping down to sit on it as well. "I know." The arm that he drapes around Spencer's shoulders is very warm. "It's early and we --" A small hesitation here, "-- we have people who got solid advice on facing this and." This breaks off. He swallows hard. "... I know." Spencer presses back into his father's embrace, burying his face against Jax's shoulder. "All that stuff about how it responds well to treatment?" His fingers pluck at the cuffs of his shorts, rhythmic and compulsive. "You think they told Matt all that, too? Back before he had it a bunch of times?" His voice keeps cracking. "I don't wanna ask him now he's so sick." "I don't know," Jackson admits. "I think he'd rather know than not-know. If you had experience that could help someone get through something real scary, you'd want to let 'em know, right?" He squeezes Spencer tighter, hand rubbing absently at the boy's back. "They're already gettin' you set up with follow-up, we'll..." This trails off again. He draws a slow breath. "It's okay to be scared." "I'd wanna let 'em know." Spencer's breathing is not slowing down much. "But I'd also be worried about being too honest. 'Cuz maybe that's even more scary than not knowing." He relaxes just a touch at the tighter hold. "I'm sorry, Pa. Are you scared, too?" "I could talk to him. An' then you could let me know how much honesty you're feeling ready for." There's a small flutter of glow around them, briefly. Jax's breathing is slow, steady despite this external tremor. "I'm scared." This, quieter. "Been scared for you before. Jus' means I fight twice as hard to do right by you." Spence nods, mussing his hair against Jax's shirt. "I don't wanna stress him out, either. Not when he's so sick." He sniffles noisily. "But I wanna know what it's like. I wanna know if the doctor's just sugar-coating it cuz I'm a kid and..." He bites his lip, hard. "I wanna know." He throws both his arms around his father now, his words muffled when he speaks again. "Thanks, Pa."