Letting Down Walls [Tatiana]

[Bishop Santos]

Bishop flushed a little when she said she had just been looking at him, but let it go as they made their way inside. Once he'd returned with the ciders and sat down beside her, smiling softly at her, she picked the conversation right back up. "I think I'll find it more entertaining that way because it'll say a lot about how you saw the world at the time," he said, smirking a little. "Thinking about it right now, where's the first place you'd want to go?" he asked. He didn't care if the trip took them over the whole of Europe, so long as they were together and she was happy.

"I don't think I was thinking about traveling then," he tilted his head as he tried to remember what he was thinking about at 13, "I think I was just thinking of getting onto the Quidditch team," he shook his head at him, looking back to her.

[Tatiana Beautero]

Tati wrapped both hands around the warm mug of cider immediately, exactly as promised, letting the heat seep into her fingers before she even considered taking a sip. The apple and spice of it drifted up pleasantly and she closed her eyes for just a second in appreciation."The Quidditch team," she repeated, opening her eyes with an amused smile. "Of course you were. You were absolutely single-minded about it, I remember. You practiced on your own even when there were no official sessions." She tilted her head. "Did it ever occur to you at thirteen that you'd end up teaching Alchemy at Hogwarts instead of playing professional Quidditch?"

She took a careful sip of cider, considering his question about Paris properly. "First place I'd want to go," she mused, her thumb tracing the rim of the mug. "The Shakespeare and Company bookshop. It's Muggle but it's been there for decades and apparently it's just..." She gestured vaguely, searching for adequate words. "Magical. In the non-literal sense again. Books everywhere, cats wandering through, the Seine right outside." She looked at him, slightly self-conscious about her own enthusiasm. "I know it's not particularly glamorous as a first stop in Paris."

A small laugh. "But thirteen year old me had her priorities and apparently they were literature and river views." She nudged his knee under the table. "What about you? If you had to pick somewhere. Anywhere."

[Bishop Santos]

He laughed at her question about whether he saw himself at that age as a professor. "Absolutely not. We may have been eggheads, but that was too egghead in my opinion back then," he chuckled lightly. Listening to her, he smiled softly at the fact that the first stop she wanted to go to was a bookstore based on a British author, but he figured they had more available there than that. But of course that was the place she'd want to go. "I think it will be interesting what all they have. Though walking along the Seine as we go there will be pretty nice, I'm sure. I've not read too many Muggle stories. Maybe we're missing out."

"Anywhere?" Bishop thought about it, giving a hum, "You know... I don't remember ever wanting to travel, like I didn't really think about it before... but if I had to pick right now? Maybe Spain? Not cause of..." he waved his hand, meaning his parents, "But just because I'm curious about it." Maybe he could find out if he had family there... who were hopefully better than his own parents. He rather hoped they were the outlier, not him.

[Tatiana Beautero]

Tati nodded slowly, something gentle and understanding moving through her expression at the way he'd waved his hand; that small, wordless gesture that carried so much history in it."Spain," she said simply, without making it complicated. "I think that sounds like a wonderful reason to go somewhere. Curiosity is as good a reason as any." She wrapped her hands a little tighter around her mug. "Better than most, actually."

She hesitated for just a moment before continuing, keeping her voice light but her eyes attentive. "You could always ask your Uncle. Well that is if you are speaking with him?" She tilted her head carefully. "I only suggest him because he might know where to start. What parts of the family are worth finding, what places meant something to them." A small pause. "The good parts of them, I mean. The parts that weren't your parents."

She watched his face, ready to drop it entirely if he needed her to. "I remember him being incredibly grateful," she added softly. "When I brought your siblings to him. He struck me as a good man." Her thumb traced the handle of her mug. "I'd like to think there's more of that in your family than what you grew up with. You turned out extraordinary despite everything, so something good must have been in the mix somewhere."

Her knee found his under the table, a quiet point of contact. "But no pressure. Spain will be there whenever you're ready for it. We have time."

[Bishop Santos]

Bishop looked at his cider as she talked about asking his uncle, "I've... written a couple of times," he said, "He told me about when you brought them," he took a deep breath, "Not right away. I think he wasn't sure if he needed to protect them from me, but after I started turning my energies into alchemy, he told me..." he murmured. "If he felt Spain was safer than here, I have to hope it's better there for them."

He cleared his throat, rubbing the side of his neck as he tried to shake off the shame that hit him when thinking about it. He hadn't had the courage to go then. He hadn't written his siblings yet. They were practically strangers at this point, and a part of him thought it was better that way. "Yeah. It'll be there," he said, swallowing as he tried to get back away from that. "Sorry, I didn't mean to tread into something to ruin this good mood," he murmured.

He seemed like he wanted to change the topic before he realized something. "I have yet to thank you for that. I've tried not to think about it too much, so I really hadn't thought about it," he murmured. "So... thank you. Before you say it was just the right thing to do, most people would have let the authorities handle that situation, especially with what you were already dealing with at the time..." he murmured, looking at her, "Especially after how I'd acted."

He gave a bit of a huff of a laugh, "You've always been so much braver and stronger than me, Beau. I keep running from my shadows and you keep facing yours."

[Tatiana Beautero]

Tati was quiet for a moment, letting his words settle without rushing to fill the space. She could see the shame moving through him; the way he'd tried to shake it off and couldn't quite manage and she didn't pretend it wasn't there. "You haven't ruined anything," she said first, firmly but gently. "This is part of it too. The real parts. I don't just want the easy evenings, Bishop. I want all of it."

She set her mug down and turned toward him slightly, her knee pressing more deliberately against his. "And don't thank me for that." Her voice was soft but certain. "I know you told me not to say it was just the right thing, but…" She stopped herself, reconsidering. "Alright. I won't say that. Instead I'll say that keeping them safe kept a piece of you safe too. And that was entirely selfish of me, so you have nothing to thank me for."

She held his gaze steadily. "As for running from your shadows." She shook her head slightly. "You're here, aren't you? You came back. You walked into that school knowing I might be there, knowing what was between us, and you stayed." Her hand found his on the table. "That's not running, Bishop. That's the bravest thing I've seen in years."

A quiet beat. "Write to them," she said softly. "When you're ready. Not for anyone else. Just... don't let the distance become permanent because it felt easier." Her fingers curled around his. "You deserve that family too. Whatever good parts of it are left."

[Bishop Santos]

Bishop looked to her when she said he didn't ruin anything, but he felt like the joy around the evening had soured a little. Yeah, these were conversations that should happen; they needed to be able to talk to each other about the dark parts too. He just hadn't wanted it to be tonight. He took a deep breath as he felt her knee pressing into his, though he almost laughed at her trying to turn protecting his siblings into somehow a selfish action. He could never really see it that way. She could have left them anywhere. She could have handed them off to authorities. But she took them to his uncle herself. But he wasn't trying to argue with her on that kind of thing either, because it wasn't the point.

When she took his hand, he held hers, like the more contact helped him keep from going too far into that self-hatred that still clung to the back of his mind. Though then she told him he should write to them, "I don't even know what to say to them. They don't even know who I am even more," he murmured, "But that's a problem for me to figure out, I suppose. You know... dealing with the research is less stressful than thinking about that," he gave a wry laugh at himself, shaking his head.

"You're too good to me, Beau," he lifted her hand, kissing the back of it.

[Tatiana Beautero]

"I'm exactly good enough to you," Tati corrected quietly, squeezing his hand before he could argue otherwise. "Not too much. Just the right amount." She let the siblings conversation rest there, recognizing when something needed to be set down rather than carried further. He knew she meant it about writing to them. That was enough for tonight.

"And for what it's worth," she added, her mouth curving slightly, "I think you'll know what to say when the time comes. You're better with words than you give yourself credit for." A meaningful look. "You've said some rather extraordinary things to me tonight and I don't think you had any of them prepared."

She picked up her cider again, letting the comfortable warmth of the Broomsticks settle back around them. The fire, the low murmur of other patrons, Bishop's hand still holding hers on the table. The evening finding its equilibrium again. "Research being less stressful than human connection," she mused after a moment, her tone lighter now, coaxing them gently back toward steadier ground. "You know that's a very specific kind of Ravenclaw problem. I used to organize the hospital wing supply cabinet when I was anxious. Alphabetically. Twice."

She tilted her head at him. "What are you researching at the moment? Besides," she gestured between them with her free hand, "the ongoing collaborative project."