Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: I See Ghosts
Colors: Zing 10. bring a friend, if you have one
Supplies and Styles: n/a
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Broker and Mitchell discuss Alistair.

The last sudsy mug in the sink read "I See Ghosts" in bold white lettering on black glaze. Mitchell felt a brief but powerful urge to smash it, throw magic into the gesture and completely nullify the damned thing, leaving nothing but dust.

"Has to be Broker's," he muttered to himself as he rinsed it.

"Yup." Mitchell nearly dropped the thing. He turned to Broker, letting it hang from his finger.

"I hate you a little right now."

Broker shrugged. He leaned in the doorframe, blocking the way while appearing to do no such thing. He had on his 'impactful lesson' face. "Don't you always hate me a little?"

Mitchell frowned as he put the mug on the rack. Broker had long ago shifted from "overly-cheerful disrespectful Assembly-loving Seer who's shagging my sister" to "not that bad but still works for the Assembly and shags my sister"; now he couldn't quite articulate how he felt. Friend was too strong a word.

"Not really," he murmured.

"It was a joke," Broker said, hesitant laughter around the phrase.

"I know. Not in the mood." He concentrated on setting up a working to dry the dishes. It was wasteful -- the Followers could burst in the next moment, and what if he needed that iota of magic? -- but he didn't want to face Broker.

"You don't have to hide in the kitchen, he left. Said he wanted to visit some friends."

Mitchell snorted. "I didn't know he had any."

"I think you should give him a chance. If it was my father--"

"That's different." Mitchell waved his hands to disperse the working. "Your parents were taken from you. You know I know how that feels." He half-turned to Broker. "If I could have just another minute with my mother..." Just to say goodbye. Or ask if he was doing the right thing. Or to warn her. Thank her. Anything. "Him, that man, he left. He chose to leave. He's not back for me or Tamsin or my mother. He came back here because he has nowhere else to go."

"I know, but--"

"No." Mitchell faced Broker properly. "But nothing. He's the parent. He needs to make the effort. He never has and he never will. If Tam wants to forge a relationship with him, fine. I wish she wouldn't, but she has a support system. When he disappears for another twenty years she won't be left alone with meaningless friendships and a sort-of girlfriend who's actually a homicidal cultist."

Broker's eyebrows were up. "It's been that long?"

"I don't remember him. I hadn't even come into my Talent the last time he set foot in this house. And he thinks he can just walk back in my mother's house, my sister's house, like nothing happened? Like he didn't abandon us? Like we weren't good enough--" He cut himself off, alarmed and then furious that his eyes were watering. That Ladyforsaken bastard didn't deserve one tear from him he deserved to fucking drown.

Broker moved forward, raising and then lowering a hand. Oh, good, he didn't know what to call their relationship either. Lady bless them both.

Mitchell shook his head and pretended to pinch the bridge of his nose when he was actually wiping his eyes. Broker went to the fridge. "Beer?"

Laughing Mitchell said, "Several."