[ the stick he's been working at, the one that's gotten nice and sharp but isn't much of anything in the grand scheme of it- poke through the flat end of the marshmellow with a look that's more blustering defiance than anything else. there's no alright that hits the air, nothing articulated anyway, but it passes through their space just the same. chuck hasn't moved beyond the hurt that's knotted up in his chest- he hasn't made his peace with it. but it's spread out- filled every pore and poisoned every interaction. there's a growl beneath the words of every conversation just because it's in him, part of him. he isn't always looking for a fight, despite the frequency with which he faces them down. it just turns out that way.
chuck's expression wrinkles up and turns away. moves to the fire where he pushes the stick into the brightest part of the flame and watches the thing burn up. ]
[ it seems like a lot of fuss over a marshmallow, but Herc doesn't comment on it when Chuck finally takes the bundle of sugar. the corner of his mouth twitches, satisfied, maybe a little pleased, when even with the scowl on his face he forces the treat into the fire. ]
You wanna hold it over the fire, where it's hottest. [ he advises, and he doesn't see the look Chuck will undoubtedly throw him for offering his two cents, but he knows it'll be there regardless. instead, Herc threads two marshmallows over his own stick and holds it out well over the spot Chuck has decided to incinerate his marshmallow at. ]
[ it happens in a matter of seconds, and chuck doesn't tear his gaze away enough to angle the glare in his father's direction, but it creases over his features as predictably as the sun rises in the east. the marshmellow moves from yellow to brown to black- scorched and bubbling around the edges- before the heat is too much, and the treat melts off the stick entirely. lands in a seeping heap on the logs before it goes up in flames.
chuck appears oddly satisfied by the result, despite the absence of a smile. he keeps the stick over the fire, burns off the remainder of the marshmellow. he might be sulking. it's difficult to say for sure. ]
[ there are some battles you just won't win, Herc has learned this over the course of his lifetime, but not so often as in his stretch in fatherhood. in a fight, you could track an enemy and make an educated guess. there were certain rules that were they would abide by, even without consciously making the effort to do so. Herc can navigate a battle and fly a jet with much more confidence and grace than he can figure out precisely what his son might want from him.
(but he knows what he wants, he wants his mother back, he wants the name Hercules not to be a lie, but Herc can't give him that)
he doesn't roll his eyes but it's a damn near thing; he grunts, and it's almost a sound of amusement but even then, it's hard to tell. his own marshmallows are golden when he pulls them from above the fire, and he slides the far one off the end in a string of sticky sugar before handing it to his son. ]
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chuck's expression wrinkles up and turns away. moves to the fire where he pushes the stick into the brightest part of the flame and watches the thing burn up. ]
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You wanna hold it over the fire, where it's hottest. [ he advises, and he doesn't see the look Chuck will undoubtedly throw him for offering his two cents, but he knows it'll be there regardless. instead, Herc threads two marshmallows over his own stick and holds it out well over the spot Chuck has decided to incinerate his marshmallow at. ]
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chuck appears oddly satisfied by the result, despite the absence of a smile. he keeps the stick over the fire, burns off the remainder of the marshmellow. he might be sulking. it's difficult to say for sure. ]
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(but he knows what he wants, he wants his mother back, he wants the name Hercules not to be a lie, but Herc can't give him that)
he doesn't roll his eyes but it's a damn near thing; he grunts, and it's almost a sound of amusement but even then, it's hard to tell. his own marshmallows are golden when he pulls them from above the fire, and he slides the far one off the end in a string of sticky sugar before handing it to his son. ]
Here.