18. The Door To Chaos
Sketch sighed heavily as his dad slowly trailed his eyes over every actor in the room. There was a cough over the oppressive silence as a few ponies shuffled uncomfortably.
Was he going to say anything or just stand there?
After what felt like a millennia, he finally began to blink and mouth some words.
“Ah,” he coughed, bringing his hoof up to his muzzle in embarrassment. “I believe I may have just entered the wrong house. I mean, you two-“ he gestured to Sketch and then his wife, “-you two look like my wife and child, but that wouldn’t make any sense at all. Not under these circumstances.”
Anthem cocked his head and rose his brow at Sketch. In response, the pony just shrugged, unable to tell if his dad was joking or serious.
“Now, I’m going to, uh, leave, and maybe... try to find my real house.” He smiled and nodded his head and reached for the door knob behind him, fumbling a few times before securing a somewhat unsure grip for himself. “Good day, and good luck with uh... whatever this is.” He had some understandable difficulty swinging the door open, considering his strange hold and shaky limbs.
As the door slammed behind Sketch’s father, a stale silence fell about the room. No one dared to make the next move, the next sound. After some glances exchanged, Sweet Night decided to make the horrid sacrifice and break the ice with a soft sigh.
“Whelp,” she whelped, shaking her head. “Good a time as any I guess.” She smiled at her son, brows furrowed with worry and a dash of snideness, and chuckled dryly. “Need any help?”
Sketch was still staring at the spot his dad had occupied not a moment earlier, scenarios playing out in his head with a fervish speed. After a few really bad ones involving his mother accompanying him, he winced and frowned. “No. That’s okay.” He’d rather take the gamble himself.
“This is my fault,” Sketch admitted. “I have to do this.” Maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn’t. Regardless, the leap had to be taken, at the very least for his sake.
He opened the door to the crisp night air, the nip of the wind a welcome energy booster for the task to come. The vague shape of his father sat across from him, the poor stallion breathing quite quickly in the wake of his recent discoveries. When he sensed Sketch approaching, he stiffened a little, and tried to control his lungs.
“Art...” he started, tapping the ground. “Art, that... that’s my house isn’t it?”
“Mmhmm,” he confirmed, taking a seat next to his dad on the cold concrete of the city sidewalk.
“Right,” he nodded, rubbing the nape of his neck and scrunching his face in thoughts and musings. “So uh... Anthem and Haren, huh?”
“Yup.”
His father stuck his tongue out in disgust, and stifled a gag. “But... How on earth is that okay?”
“Dad...” Sketch whined, the sentiment his dad just gave punching him in the gut. It was exactly as he feared.
“They can’t... do that. How- how,” Books stuttered as he made wild gestures with his hooves. “How are they supposed to have... have, y’know...”
“Sex?” Sketch offered, at a legitimate loss.
“Kids, Sketch.” he deadpanned, his face becoming a little red, betraying his usual calmness. “How are they supposed to have kids?” His tone was borderline complaining, and he motioned in the vague direction of his house.
Sketch rose his eyebrow at this. He knew his dad was going to have issues with Haren and Anthem, but he didn’t think it was going to be this... draconian.
“They... won’t?” Sketch offered yet again. It took all of his strength to not shrug dismissively. “I fail to see the problem here.”
“Thats... that’s an affront!” he replied, finally facing his son. “An affront to nature, a-a-an affront to Celestia!”
What on earth... Sketch scoffed at the wild bigotry on display here and started to get a little heated in spite of himself. “Are... are you serious? Lot’s of couples can’t have kids. By that logic, you’re calling gays and lesbians an ‘affront to Celestia’.”
Books sputtered uncontrollably, somehow offended at the completely reasonable allegations. “Don’t even imply that, Sketch! I was there, on the right side of this, when that was an issue back in the day! Colt-cuddlers and filly-foolers - that’s different, anyhow. At least they’re the same species, Arthur. There are creatures on this planet made for each other. Rabbits with rabbits, birds with birds. Sometime you’ll see the occasional male squirrels going at it, but-but never, like, a bear and an eagle! It just doesn’t happen - it’s not supposed to happen.”
“Dad, you can’t expect this to never happen. You can’t expect for all these different races hanging out and seriously -- realistically -- not expect some mingling. What about unicorns and pegasi, Dad?”
“Now, come on, Sketch, you know that’s-”
“What about a pony and zebra?”
“Well at least there’s some anatomical-”
“Dad! Listen to yourself!” Sketch reached for his father and gripped him by the shoulders. “You said you were on the right side of history the last time this was a problem? Well don’t be on the wrong side now. Really think about it! In twenty years time, who’s going to be the bigot?”
At some point, Sketch had lost his breath, because he had begun to hyperventilate as he held his father at arm’s length. Books, on the other hand, was dead still, a look of dull surprise at the sudden passion Sketch was displaying. “Arthur...” he wistfully called, trying to recollect some semblance of peace.
“They love each other, Dad. I love them too. Don’t do this. Don’t be like this.”
Unfortunately, Books’ deadpan stare shared his opinion without him ever needing to open his mouth. Sketch didn’t want to accept defeat. He just kept holding on, wishing he could convince his father somehow, be it raw will or simple happenstance.
“Are those wings real?” Books suddenly asked, earning a jostle from Sketch.
“Huh?” Did he mean Haren’s?
“The vampony-looking broad. Those wings are real, aren’t they?”
“Uh...” It took a solid moment for Sketch to connect the dots. They were talking about Trust, suddenly, as the ‘vampony-looking broad’. “Yeah... yeah, those wings are real. She’s not a vampony, she just has some bat features. At least... I think...”
Books furrowed his brows and sighed, looking like he just had to put down his dog. “Sketch. Come on.”
“Haha,” he laughed mirthlessly. “What? It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose.”
“Well,” he replied, shaking his head. “Things are starting to make a lot more sense.”
“How do you mean?” Sketch asked, facing the ground with a joyless smile.
“I’m not an idiot, Sketch. You’ve been acting strange lately. I figured you got yourself a marefriend. Silly me hadn’t considered it would be with a supernatural abomination.” Books shook his head condescendingly one more time. “I don’t think I have to tell you how... unacceptable this is, right?”
“I love her, Dad.” he confessed, squinting hard, trying hard to ignore the abomination comment. “I... She’s... she’s so much... I need her.” Sketch’s pleading may have been out of place, or unnecessary. But he had run out of ideas. All of this had gone so south so quickly. “I don’t care if you don’t approve. Well. No, that’s a lie. I do care. But even if you don’t approve... I have to stay with her. I... I can’t lose her. She’s been through so much.”
Sketch realized he was crying. For how long, he didn’t know. He sucked air through his teeth to prevent some pathetic drooling that had begun to take place.
Books sighed once again, looking back at the strange abode that was his home. Everything turned upside down in seconds for him. Those old, tired eyes that once held a steadfast and endearing apathy, now simply looked... exhausted. Maybe Sketch inherited his lack of sleep from him.
“Sketch... I could never approve, you know? This is way too dangerous. You’re only going to end up getting yourself hurt associating with friends like Haren and Anthem. And a relationship with that monster... that mare. It can’t end well. I can’t in good faith tell you that it’s going to be fine. That’s not my job as a father.”
Sketch remained silent, only sobbing every now and then. Sketch’s mind ran through thousands of futures, thousands of possibilities, none of them without Trust. But many of them played out without his father. It was a horrific future, but unfortunately it was a necessary sacrifice if need be. He didn’t want it to be like this, but if his dad gave him no choice-
“But,” Books began, causing his son’s ears to perk, the three letter word cutting Sketch’s musings to a halt. “You’re seventeen, aren’t you, Sketch? Even if I forbade you from seeing that mare, the only thing that’s going to do is make you sprint out of my house the second your birthday hits. Heh, and even then, im sure you’d just sneak some way to see her.” He laughed, a good laugh from his belly as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I was young too, once upon a time. I know how that game goes.”
Sketch looked up at his father in shock. What was he trying to say?
“Listen Sketch. I will never approve of this union between your friends... or approve of this relationship you have with a... demon. But just because I don’t approve of it, doesn’t mean I can’t support you.” His father placed a hoof on his shoulder. “You remember when I told you about your mother, right? When we started dating, my father absolutely hated her. Her language, her crassness, her... spirit. He called it... he called her a menace. Unladylike, inelegant. He called her all sorts of names. When I decided to defy him and continue our relationship, he disowned me. He kicked me out, spat on the ground I walked on, and never spoke to me again. And as much as I love your mother, as much as I love you... there are some times when I wonder if I made the right decision.” He cleared his throat. “It’s awful, I know. In reality would never trade the two of you for anything. But he was my father, you know? He raised me. We laughed, we cared, we loved each other. And losing that never felt right, even though in my head I know I made the right decision.” He placed a hoof on Sketch’s shoulder and smiled. “I don’t want to do the same thing to you. And beyond that, if I end up being wrong about all of this, I don’t want to be the bad guy in this story. I don’t want to be my father.”
The excess of carbon dioxide in the air from all the sighing must have been making the plants very happy, as Books contributed his part yet again. “I guess that’s it for me, huh? One year earlier and I would grounded you so hard you wouldn’t see Celestia’s sun again for at least another thousand years. But timing is everything in these types of things.” Books brushed off Sketch’s shoulders, and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Come on. Let’s go meet your marefriend.” He winced. “And talk to... Haren and... her... friend.” He held back a gag and shook his head again, violently this time. At that, he turned away and trotted to his home, leaving Sketch’s mouth agape at the sudden change in tone. It came to Sketch’s attention that his father had just taken the reins to the conversation and was now leaving.
That wasn’t... how Sketch thought that was going to happen. So it was like... his father didn’t approve, but that was okay? Very curious.
Sketch was coming to realize that not knowing how he felt was becoming a disturbingly common occurrence.
Galloping to catch up with his fleet footed father, he skidded to a halt once at his side. “Just.. just like that?”
“Just like that,” Books confirmed, nodding tersely. “I’ll try to give all of this a chance Sketch. I’m doing this for you. I just wish you had told me about all this sooner so I wouldn’t be up against a wall like this.”
“I know, heh.” Sketch laughed as he gritted his teeth. “Mom said the same thing.” Sketch kicked the ground, throwing his head to the side. “Well, there’s still a lot I have to talk to you about.”
“I’m sure,” he chortled. Reaching the door to his house, he cleared his throat and reached for the knob. This door had become something else. Instead of a portal to safety, it was an entrance to the unknown. A hole to chaos. Nothing would ever be the same, and that made him hesitate.
Sketch couldn’t blame his father’s trepidation. A part of him screamed to run away. It would be easy, right? Maybe. Maybe not. Didn’t matter, it wasn’t in the cards anymore.
The door opened.
The light poured out.
Friends and family would share a space that night.
A voice echoed in Sketch’s head, over and over again.
Know who your allies are.
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Next update in two days (I promise lol)
9815104
It’s nice to see this story continue. Whatever happens, I wish you luck in your future works.
I wasn't sure how this was going to play out but I'm quite relieved that Books is going to try to be supportive of this. It really show the strength of his love of family that despite his beliefs, he's willing to be there for his son. It's hard to put your preconceived notions of others to the side sometimes. Hopefully Books has the willpower to do so.
I can't wait to read how it goes down. I realise that it might not go as well as this chapter portrayed it, but hopefully it'll lead to some progress.
Books is the sort of father who is able to love their son despite the choices he disagrees with. He doesn't approve of Sketch's relationship, but he'll support his son all the same. That's a... surprisingly realistic scenario.
So is this story getting finished or not?
9875622
Yes, this chapter is incredibly difficult to write, much more than I anticipated. Rewrote it two times now.
Turns out putting 5+ characters in a room with nothing else other than their own unique motivations and ideas to deal with is hard to write for :P