open | haven't I given enough?

[castitas]

Who: Kate Marsh + You
What: Catch All.
When: Late October — November + December.
Where: Various.

Content Warnings: N/A, threads will be marked appropriately.

Comments

[fidior]

[ Even as a much younger soul, Kate has that same gentle kindness, something tender and safe. It's a trait he'd always been drawn to in the young woman, able to find a certain solace in her company. And now... she reaches to gently brush her sleeve against his cheek, and that makes him cry a little bit more, but it's— happy tears, yes. Very happy ones.

He smiles, breathing in against a wet sound, and as he listens to her speak again, her words sweet and shy, the ache up under his sternum persists — 'You always seem to find me when I need you.'

It's a concept that he's shared with Wynonna Earp, too. A thing he reflects on so often: how precious his bonds are with the people here, with those he's come to love. Edward would do anything to protect them. He'd die for them. He'll come find Kate again and again, for as long as he's able to keep fighting.

He lets her keep speaking through her shy words, before the sound of child's mirth makes his heart warm again, and he's once more struck speechless by what the girl says. (There's another quiet sorrow as she mentions her father; Edward knows the man won't appear here, that the chances of her parents finding her again are... slim to none, and he wishes it weren't so, wishes she could be with her family again.)

'Lieutenant-Dad'.

He blinks, startled, then delighted, tickled, touched — wet eyes crinkling up at the corners as a warm, pleasant laugh of his own rumbles from deep in his belly. ]

Of all the titles to be bestowed upon me, that one would give me the greatest honour, Miss Kate. I would wear it with pride.

[ He means it, and after just a brief pause, his grasp against the girl tightens, slow and soft but warm, affectionate, as he gives her a hug like that; she's so darling. ]

I'm sure your father is very proud of you, too. I know that he is. And when you see him again, you'll have many adventures to tell him of. Adventures with me, with Miss Earp, and with the others here.

[ There's a quiet vow within himself: Edward will take care of her for the other man, in this place. ]

[castitas]

[ It is the truth. More truths than she could possibly hope to utter as a young adult, so careful with herself. But it's how she feels, and what she knows. He's always been there for her, she remembers that now. He was there for her, right from the start of things. He always made it better.

Her expression slowly brightens, and she's delighted at that: the greatest honour. It was something silly, in all honesty. But the fact he takes it so seriously to heart, hearing him laugh — a real laugh — makes her so happy. He hugs her and she laughs a little, hugging him back (she remembers he's really good at hugs, even if they don't happen often. She totally has to take advantage of this.) ]

... Don't tell the Navy I promoted you.

[ It's uttered in another loud whisper. Does she have anything to do with Her Majesty's Royal Navy? No. Does she think Her Majesty's Royal Navy is something super serious and there could be some sort of trouble on her for promoting someone when she doesn't have any power or say-so? ... Maybe.

She does go all shy again, her mouth pressed together as she smiles and nods. ]

I'm sad he's not around, but it's okay. I'll see him soon enough, and I have you anyways. [ And Wynonna, too. Which... speaking of Wynonna, Kate's head shifts to look for a clock, but she can't find one. She doesn't know what time it is, but she know Wynonna'll be up soon enough and Edward will be demoted to sleeping on the floor, like he has been the past couple of nights— ]

Can we still read? Do we still have time?

[fidior]

[ Edward laughs again at that, softer this time but no less genuinely amused, genuinely happy, free arm lifting to brush his fingers across his eyes again for a moment — tears no longer slipping from the corners of his eyes, but some lingering moisture gathering, hot and wet against his lids. ]

It shall be our secret.

[ He smiles, this time wide enough that his eyes disappear into half-moons, that his mouth lifts to expose the sharp slant of his canines. His heart is so full it threatens to burst: a sensation he welcomes lovingly as he lowers his arm again to readjust his position, and when Kate speaks again he's sobering just a bit, looking down at her, smile softening.

He'd never lie to her — he won't claim as to how or when she might see her father, her parents, again. But he has to... maintain hope. He won't share his dark, aching thought: the one that thinks she likely won't reunite with her parents, the same way he won't reunite with his own. But.... even so, there is some hope, isn't there? Something that lingers at the end, far out in the distance. The little girl has a family that loves her dearly; she must keep remembering this. And sometimes, even when one knows in one's mind that the hope they're clinging to has no real merit, it still.... helps. Still keeps one going. He'd known that, out on the ice. There came a time when Edward knew, in his logical mind, that hope was lost. Still his heart insisted. Until the very end, it insisted.

His softer smile stays, and then he's giving a little nod, reaching to lift the book again and prop it on his lap. He moves his arm around her to fit more comfortably again after the brief bit of moving around a little, and settles in against Kate like that: warm, safe. ]

We have time, [ he assures her, fingers lifting to brush the book open, to gently find the first page. And he'll read through the story, voice slow and calm, heart full, all the way to the end, even if the girl drifts asleep somewhere inbetween. ]