When there was a battle to be fought, Scott often shifted back into what heâd always thought of as âsoldier mode.â If his normal demeanor was stoic, soldier mode was another level. He became a literal man on a mission, someone wholly focused on fighting his battle and nothing else. That had its pros, sometimes. It meant he could do what it took to keep his people safe, to keep them alive.
But it also meant he missed things, sometimes.
It meant he stood beside his daughter in a fight and saw that she was struggling only to compartmentalize and push the realization back, like moving something down the to-do list, like prioritizing. That was exactly what he did when Rachel showed up to the fight with Malice, chest heaving and eyes wild. And maybe he did a bit of it in the aftermath, too. Maybe he kept pushing that thought away, even when he knew he shouldnât. It wasnât for no reason, of course. He got more information on the situation, because that was what soldiers did. He made sure he understood what had happened to her. He waited until he didnât feel like heâd break if he tried to bring it up. And it was selfish and it wasnât entirely fatherly, but he was still learning. He was still trying to figure out how to fight this battle.
When he was ready, he found her in the park. It was a nice one --- lots of trees, a wooden playground with roots tangling around it. It looked like something out of a fairytale. He could understand why she liked it. He sat beside her on the bench, watched a child on the swing shout for her father to look at her, felt a pang of grief and guilt at the sight. For a moment, he didnât say anything. Then, he cleared his throat. âHey,â he greeted quietly. âI, uh... I was wondering if you wanted to talk.â Off to a great start.