Prosapia

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Title: "Prosapia"
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban
Rating: G
Summary: Harry comes home.
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Notes: Prosapia (Latin): family.


Sometimes Harry thought, it was easier to go back to the beginning.

When life dealt you curves, when the world conspired against you, when it seemed as if your entire life held no joy and little meaning, it was best to just take a step back. Go home, lick your wounds. Be around the people who knew you and accepted you.

He knocked on Karl's door again, absently noting the Big Wheel and scattered Legos. The porch was still the same shade of faded blue, still the same ancient glider in front of the bay windows. And the vines still needed to be trimmed.

Karl's face softened instantly in welcome when he opened the door, and Harry stepped gratefully forward into a solid embrace. So many things he'd forgotten -- but the feel of this man's arms around him, the smell of peppermint and talcum powder, wasn't one of them.

"Hey," Karl said, with a bright smile. "C'mon in. When'd you get back?"

"Yesterday. Early this morning, actually." Harry stepped over a scattered clump of toy trucks and his gaze tracked the latest pictures of Hunter lining the walls as he followed Karl into the kitchen. "It's good to be home."

"Yeah, I know how you feel." Karl smiled, and tossed Harry a bottle of water before snagging a seat at the table. "Just got back m'self."

"Yeah, I hear you've become quite the movie star."

"Hardly. Just a guy trying to make a living and provide for his family."

Family. Harry glanced at the photo in the middle of the table -- Karl with a squirming, smiling toddler. Hunter had definitely inherited his father's eyes. "How is he?"

"Brilliant. Growing like a weed. Constantly asking questions." Karl laughed, tipping his chair back on two legs. "I dunno where they think this stuff up."

"Children are full of surprises."

"He asks about you."

"Does he?" Harry picked up the frame, studied the laughing, cherubic face of the little boy. "What d'you tell him?"

"The truth." Karl wrapped a large hand around his bottle, tilted it back for a long swallow. "Much as I can. You've been busy, we haven't really talked, I'm sure you're thinking of him, that kind of thing."

"I have been." Harry set the picture back down. "Been thinking about both of you."

"Have you?"

Harry hated the wariness in Karl's voice, hated that he'd put it there. Another sin he'd need to account for when the time came. "How's Natalie?" he asked.

"She's good." Hazel eyes continued to regard him cautiously. "Found a decent bloke. He seems to like Hunter well enough, so I approve. Makes her happy."

"You also made her happy."

"Yeah, maybe. For awhile." Karl shrugged. "It's all water, y'know? Can't change the past."

"No. But, sometimes you can atone for it."

"Is that why you're here? To atone?"

Was it? Harry wasn't sure. He just knew that breathing was easier now. "I don't know what the right answer is," he said, hands spread wide on the table.

"This isn't a quiz, Sin. You're not going to be graded."

"No, not graded. But, I might be judged."

Warm fingers folded over Harry's and squeezed. "I never judged you."

"I know," Harry whispered. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Karl's hand on his. "I miss you."

"It can't be like it was, you know."

"No, I know. I do." Harry nodded, rubbed his thumb across Karl's knuckles. "I don't want to go back."

"Then what do you want?" Karl asked.

Harry raised his head. "I want laughter back in my life."

"And you think--?"

"Yeah." Harry squeezed Karl's hand. "You were the brightest thing I ever had."

"Thank you."

"And I understand if it's not enough, if you need more time, if I --"

Harry was cut off by Karl's finger against his lips. "It's alright. You don't have to say anything else."

"I don't?"

"No." Karl smiled and sat back. "Stay for dinner? Hunter'll be back around five."

"Yeah, alright," Harry said, throat tight. "I'd like that."

He knew a good deal when he heard it.


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