Too Much

The Things I Cannot Tell You

They danced around each other for all the days leading up to the service. Like predatory sharks, each circling the other to size the other carnivore up.

Both were on edge thinking something was going to happen. The recipe for disaster was there. All someone had to do was crack and approach the other and the rest would be history. But nothing ever did happen.

The service was quiet and isolating for Kaleb. He hadn't talked to his pack-mates for years, and not all of them cared to talk to him for long enough. There was only a small "How have you been doing" here and there, oh and the occasional "Wow, I never thought I'd see you around here again." Kaleb wasn't pack anymore, he was a visitor they've known since he was a kid, but that doesn't count for much around here.

He knew what coming back would be like for him, yet he did anyway. For what reasons, he could not tell. He could've ignored his mother's invitation like he did with every New Years, Thanksgiving, or Birthday invite. But this seemed owed, well overdue.

Dimitri tried to keep himself busy. Shaking hands, accepting condolences, hearing out the same retelling of stories about the successes his father achieved retold for the umpteenth time by people who always thought that they were going to be the one to put his mind at ease about his fathers passing.

His pack always believed Dimitri was too young, and he did too, to an extent. Too young to lose his mate, too young to lead, too young to bury his father.

The boy with long hair afraid to grow old was well past his time time though. Dimitri felt ancient, wise beyond his years. He was a bitter man at 25. The sweet boy who held the sun in his hands was thrown out years ago, replaced by a newer model. One who was taller, stronger, stricter, colder.

He was a stonewall his pack could cower behind if need be. Dimitri had to be that for them for he had nothing else to offer. He wasn't his father, he wasn't a leader. A provider, maybe, but someone that could lead his pack to yonder days, he wasn't so sure.

Dimitri worked hard to make himself into a man. But there was a part of his heart that wasn't paved over and hardened with stone. And that part was how he found himself being disappointed at the fact that Kaleb didn't try to talk to him, that feeling of disappointment only fueled his justification for avoiding the man.

The two were miserable together and they were miserable apart, it seemed everything they had was over, hatred and regret being the only feeling left over.

Even though the two tried their darnedest to sneak around each other, a time soon arose where  avoidance wasn't an option.

The night of the ceremony, when everyone had gone back home, two stood at the foot of a grave.

They didn't talk for a long time. Just standing and staring at a slab of stone meant to represent a person they once knew.

One was reminiscing, thankful to the man who taught him things his own father neglected to stick around for.

The other found himself shocked at how indifferent he seemed. A man he was supposed to love unconditionally was laying still in a casket 6 feet below his shoes and he felt... cold if anything at all.

"If Sam were here and saw us acting like this, he'd throw a fit," the reminiscing one spoke up.

"He never did like getting caught in between our fights, can't imagine why," the indifferent one chuckled.

"He'd tell you to go to your room, your mom would follow you up, and then he would sit me down to talk it out," Kaleb smiled.

"He always did have a soft spot for you."

"He loved you indefinitely, Dimitri," Kaleb expressed sincerely, his own greed clouded his reason to empathize with any other opinion on Samuel Klaten apart from his own.

"He sure had a way of showing it," Dimitri laughed bitterly.

"Your father was a generous man, always giving too much of himself to others."

"Yeah, well, I spent enough birthdays alone with my mom to realize what generous men do for their family," Dimitri was being childish, he knew, but he didn't care.

"He may not be— have been very good at telling his family how he felt all the time, but you could just tell, you were his world," Kaleb coerced, trying to convince Dimitri or himself, he didn't know.

"He wasn't even there for my 18th, Kaleb. He wasn't there when I shifted for the first time, he wasn't there when I broke my leg in my first hunt," Dimitri now glares at the headstone, "I remember he was there for you though. I remember him being there for your first shift, your 18th, there to shake your hand when you graduated. All he did for me was stay for the picture and then left." Dimitri knew he was being unfair. But he was tired and he was weathered and just needed to vent some frustrations.

"Dimitri. Let's not do this today," Kaleb sighed making Dimitri chuckle dryly.

"Hear that dad? Your 'son' dissolved the situation at the flick of a wrist, betcha you're real proud now."

"Dimitri!" after a moment, Kaleb speaks again, "Why does it have to be this way between us Dimitri? Why are we fighting so much when we this should be about your father?"

Dimitri gave it a taste, swished the thought around in his mouth a little, then swallowed, "He never gave me the time of day, so why should I?"

And with that only one man was left standing in front of a grave. Kaleb always knew that there was a fault in the bridge that connected Dimitri to his dad, he just didn't realize how large it was until he saw the bridge burn in front of his eyes.

"Samuel," Kaleb began, "what am I to do with your son?"

Now there was none standing before the grave of Samuel Klaten. He was alone, and there he'd stay alone until his wife would follow his steps somewhere in the distant future.

Maybe this is what he deserved, maybe it wasn't, but it sure made Kaleb satisfied.