hollowchild | IC Inbox

[Following this.]

lets push the next sparring lesson up a few days

as in right now

im at the arena

[this bodes well.]

All right. I'll be there in 15 or so.

[Yeah, because fighting dummies is really just not cutting it anymore. Isaac is hitting them and he's hitting them, and he bruised his knuckles on Jackson's jaw earlier, but it's not enough. The dummies are too soft, they don't really give him the satisfaction that hitting skin might, and so I should watch you become your dad?

Not that Isaac wants to hurt Sophie, not at all, but she's strong and she can fight back and he knows that she doesn't mind a little intense fighting practice. He doesn't have to hold back with her, and that's comforting because right now he really doesn't want to hold back.

So he hits the dummy again, harder. There are no shadows in his movement, just him, alone, teeth grit as his fist glances off one of the hard joints in the practice dummy and cuts at the skin.]

[it's about what she expected, so she doesn't look surprised and she doesn't chide him for not protecting his hands. she just sets down her bag and takes off the long sleeved shirt she's wearing and toes off her shoes. she pulls shadows around her torso, up to her neck and down over her hands. they're thin, though, just enough to keep her from getting too damaged]

The dummies lack a certain something sometimes. Come on.

[Isaac turns to her when she enters, flexing his fingers a little to ease the soreness out of them. He watches as Sophie draws the shadows around herself, but doesn't bother doing the same- Isaac lacks the focus for that, and part of him really doesn't care if he walks away with a few bruises. Jackson is here, Scott is defending him, and it's enough to make him see red.

So, when Sophie challenges him, Isaac doesn't think twice. This is probably unhealthy, a bad way of dealing with his anger, but she's willing and lord knows they've done things like this before. So he advances on her, drawing back into a loose stance she'd taught him, before moving on the attack, aiming a preliminary blow at her shoulder.]

[she turns just enough to take the hit on the broad muscle of her chest instead of the more fragile joint of her shoulder, but she takes it all the same. it's to gauge how hard he's coming, how tired he is, so she can match herself to him. she counters with a punch aimed at his stomach, followed by an open hand knifed at his ribs. she's on the offensive, making him drive her back.

of course, she's concerned. but she's not going to get anything like an explanation while he's this angry, so it'll keep.]

[Isaac is mildly surprised when he makes contact, but ultimately, it doesn't startle him too much. Sophie lets him hit her (probably more than she should) often enough, if nothing else then just to see what sort of condition he's in. And he's hitting hard, striking a little wildly out of anger, and not really with any sort of finesse.

The punch to the stomach is blocked, but when he reaches out to try and grab for that hand to pull her in closer, she jabs him in the ribs, hard enough to make him gasp. Isaac flinches back, before pushing again, striking out at her own midsection with enough power to really hurt if it's not blocked.]

[she blocks, in that she takes the hit to the thigh, shielding herself with her leg as she not incidentally raises it to kick him. it's not really intended as a strike so much as a way to shove him backwards, but she doesn't put enough force into it for it to be an attempt to send him sprawling. then she's on the offensive again, coming at him with quick strikes and feints of her hands. she's fighting mostly openhanded, the kind of hits that sting but don't bruise. it's an attempt to force him to focus, to do less angry swinging]

[The kick hits and makes him stumble backwards, and Isaac lets out a quick breath at her next blow. It's all he can do to deflect, and she still winds up striking him more often than not- Isaac knows that he'll be sore as hell in a few hours, but he doesn't care.

He forces a step forward then, letting her hit him in a sacrificial move so he can just strike out against her again, powerful and frustrated.]

[this time he hits, and even though the shadows absorb some of the force she still staggers backwards as her breath goes out, and then she hops an extra step back to put space between them. her lungs don't want to properly expand, so she's on the defensive, but she doesn't panic or try to stop him from coming]

[Isaac steps forward, using the moment to his advantage- and he doesn't see Sophie, not really, he sees Scott, he sees you're just like your father, he sees violent lives and it hurts.

His attack is less precise, more of the brute strength and size that he'd had when he first got here, all wild blows, fueled by anger, by guilt, by loathing of himself and everyone around him. Isaac's teeth are set into a grimace, and by the third blow, he lets out a loud growl of frustration that seems to build in volume with every further punch he throws.

If he hurts her, he'll stop immediately- part of him still knows who she is, what she's doing. But right now, the movement and strain is good for him, even if none of his attacks really connect.]

[sophie is all right with this, with letting isaac take out his frustration on her defense. she's run herself ragged in similar ways, after all. he's not being careful so she's being careful for both of them, beating him back if he comes too close to cornering her and not letting him put her on the ground or hit her face. he's bigger and stronger, but isaac is fighting what's in his head, which means he's not fighting smart enough to really hurt her.

she'll keep it up until he's tired or he does something to really try and hurt her.]

[It goes on for a few long minutes, until his body jars and he's reminded that he doesn't have the stamina he used to, and he throws a punch that misses her entirely and the momentum of it sends him stumbling, brings him to his knees.

He doesn't try to get back up, doesn't look to see if she's going to counterattack. Isaac just- sits there, breathing hard, staring down toward the ground with his teeth grit and his shoulders wound tight.]

[she doesn't counterattack. instead, she gives him a moment on the ground before she squats down beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder, light enough that he could just twitch it off]

[He doesn't. He just breathes like that, letting her touch him, but not moving to reciprocate in any manner. They sit like that for a long time, Isaac just breathing out heavily with Sophie's hand on him, before he finally speaks.]

...Scott said I'd become my father.

[when he says that, she shifts to actually kneel, and her hand moves slowly up his shoulder and then back down again. it takes a moment for her to answer, because she needs to rein in her own anger and make her voice even, although she doesn't quite make it to calm]

Scott doesn't know what he's talking about. Why would he even say such a thing?

Because-

[His voice is strong, defensive because he can see it too and it scares him. He knows why Scott said it, knows the implication behind it, and it makes sense because the world revolves around power and control, and he'd sure as hell rather be the abuser than the victim, wouldn't he?]

I hit Jackson. And I hurt Stiles, and I'm just- I keep hurting people, but I have to, Sophie. I can't stop, I can't let them-

[Isaac's tone cracks and he falls into silence then, trusting her to understand what he means.]

Hurt you anymore? I know.

[the hand on his shoulder rubs a slow circle, down over his spine and back up again, and the fingers of her other hand carefully card through his hair.]

That doesn't mean you are your father, or that you have to be. You haven't done anything even remotely like that, and you don't have to. There are ways to control a situation without hitting anyone.

[Isaac takes a deep breath and lifts at a hand to rub his eyes. His knuckles have split in one place, and are already beginning to swell with bruising. And when Sophie speaks, Isaac holds back a sad little scoff. Controlling situations without hurting people- all that is, is scaring people so they don't make you hurt them. It still leads to violence.]

He's dead, Sophie.

[And it's quiet, through gritted teeth.]

He's dead, and the city seized the house and everything in it. It's over- it's done. That part of my life is gone.

[So why is it still affecting him like this? Why does it still fill him with enough rage to almost break a young man's jaw? Why is he still so afraid of it that he'll destroy his own fists trying to fight something that only exists in the past?]

I think you told me once that he's still your father, regardless. People--the influences they have, the things that have happened--those don't disappear because they died.

[her fingers run through his hair again]

For better or worse.

[Isaac nods, trying to take a deep breath. He doesn't push her away when she touches him, just closes his eyes and lets himself try to understand her words.]

...it shouldn't affect me so much.

[she's going to keep carding her fingers through his hair until he makes some sort of movement of protest, because she's not sure he would accept a hug but she can't just not do anything]

Should and shouldn't have very little bearing on what is, in my experience. Home and family, such as they may be...they shape who we are. But in the end, we choose too. You aren't the person you were when you came here. I'm not either. New options presented themselves.

[The touch is actually nice- tentative enough that Isaac doesn't feel stifled by it, but there enough that he can feel comforted by the gesture.]

But I'm going to go back to being him.

[He tilts his head to look at her.]

That's the end result of all this, isn't it? None of us remember.

We won't remember. We won't remember anything, it will be just like it was. And it won't hurt, because we won't know anything was ever different. It's the cruelest kindness I can think of.

[she makes a soft sound, something almost like a scoff, but not quite, and her voice goes very soft and a little faltering]

And I suppose one could say that it's pointless, to try and be anything better here, because it won't last. But...so? We are never going back, not really. I want to have these things now, and try to be this now, because I won't have another chance to have friends and be safe and all the other stupid little things I do here that make me almost a person.

I can't guarantee your future, Isaac, any more than I can my own. Neither one looks particularly sparkling, from where we're sitting. But you don't have to become your father. You don't have to now, and maybe you'll learn that again when all this has unhappened.

[Isaac is quiet at that, not entirely sure if he trusts himself to respond. After a long few moments, however, he moves to stand, pulling away from her touch and slipping his hands in his pockets with a deep sigh.]

...my entire life, I've been surviving. I've been enduring because... well, because I've been hoping that there's more than survival. Something to live for. But what is there?

[He slowly turns back to her, his expression open, lost.]

If this place is the other side, if I can live here, what am I supposed to do? I don't know- I don't know how to not be just surviving. And I think I've been doing it wrong this entire time, if hitting people is the only thing that makes me feel better when Scott gets mad at me for hitting people in the first place.

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