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*
"I can't do this anymore."
"That bad, huh?" Bobby drops down beside him, and Casey hands him some of the stones he'd picked up, tosses another down to the empty parking lot.
"You have no idea."
He can't see where the stone ended up, but it makes a satisfying crack against the pavement, hears it echoing off the surrounding trees.
Bobby's joins his next, only a fraction louder.
Casey leans forward, rests his head against the railing, stares down into the hundred-or-so feet of open air between him and ground below them.
"I'll never be good enough for him."
"C'mon; you know he didn't-"
"Didn't what, Sam? Didn't mean it? You know Dad; he's too cheap to waste his words on things he doesn't mean."
Sam huffs, drops next to Dan in the grass, glares up at the stars as if they had personally offended him.
Dan ignores him, tosses another pebble into the pond, watches the moonlight dance on the cresting waves left in its wake.
At least, in some way, he's left some sort of impression.
"I feel like a failure."
Bobby nudges Casey's arms with a bottle- a beer of some caliber- and Casey stares at it dumbly for a moment.
"I shouldn't."
Bobby shrugs, carefree and casual in a way Casey can only dream of being. "Then don't."
Casey does it anyway, tries not to be disappointed by how much foam makes up the first sip to hit his lips.
"What happened?"
"What didn't?"
Sam gives Dan a pointed look, and Dan rolls his eyes, tosses another pebble.
It skips only three times before it surrenders to gravity, the splashes in the water upsetting the silvery fog hovering in the air.
"'What happened,' is that I foolishly made the decision to tell him I-"
Sam's shifted, and Dan catches the wide-eyed look, snaps his mouth shut again.
He won't make him share the weight, not when he can still shelter him.
"Don't worry about it."
"As if I could ever stop worrying."
Casey sighs at Bobby's half-hearted tease, shoots him something he hopes constitutes as a glare, but given the soft grin, it was insufficient, ineffective.
"You're a real piece of work, ya know that?"
Bobby's grin shifts from playful to unabashedly mischievous, and Casey rolls his eyes, tosses another rock.
He never hears it hit pavement; he wonders if it landed in the grass.
"I just don't know who he expects me to be."
Dan has given up, surrendered to gravity, feels the damp grass through his shirt, follows a few stray planes passing overhead.
Sammy is quiet, and it's uncanny, uncomfortable; Dan almost wonders if the little guy fell asleep and he'll have to carry him back inside.
He hums quietly, can still hear Dad's quiet seething, the words and implications, wonders if it's worth it.
Wonders if he's worth it.
Wonders if he ever will be.
"Danny!"
He startles, twists enough to catch Sammy's profile, the wide-eyed excitement as he points towards the sky.
"Look!"
"Well I'll be damned."
Casey shoots Bobby a look, a retort on his tongue about irony, about his shifting lexicon, but he shoves both away, turns his focus instead back to the sky.
"I was worried we'd miss Her."
Bobby's shifted, back resting against the edge of the tank, and Casey hears him take another drink, humming quietly. "Every hundred or so years, right?"
"Closer to 80," Casey murmurs. "We'd only just discovered Relativity last time She passed by."
"Is that right," Bobby asks, and Casey hears something off about his voice, but doesn't bother turning to try to figure it out. "What else you got, Pointdexter?"
Casey does turn this time, fixing his glasses as he goes, raising an eyebrow. "You actually-?"
Bobby's turn to give him a look, like he's almost offended at Casey's needing to ask.
"It's okay, kid; I'm listening."
Sam looks doubtful only a few seconds more; Dan knows he's been told off a few times for being a dork, seen his excitement dim too many times.
But Dan's made sure never to lie to him, and it takes only a few seconds for his grin to come back, his eyes almost as bright as the Comet Herself.
Dan lets Sam's voice wash over him; he mentions probes and space dust, gasses and mass extinction events- all with the same rapid fire recitation that tells Dan he'd spent many day curled up in the library, reading and listening.
"But the coolest thing is that they sent Giotto up to collect-"
"Giotto?"
"-yeah; Giotto! They-"
"They brought back a painter and sent him to space?"
"Danny!" Sam whines, and Dan doesn't bother hiding his laughter anymore; it's only a few seconds later when Sammy is giggling too, declaring Dan a dork, and going right back into his story about frozen space rocks and the shimmering trail left in their wake.
"Where'd you learn about all this?"
Casey bites his lip, hums and shrugs. "Caught a documentary last year. That guy from Star Wars-"
"Harrison Ford?"
"No."
"Mark Hamill?"
"Bobby-"
"Was it-"
"The guy! The guy who voiced the guy!"
Bobby laughs, and the sound carries, fades away into the chilly April night.
"I hate you," Casey states, a fact to be established, and it has Bobby turning back, eyes practically sparkling in his amusement.
"Uh huh."
"And it was James Earl Jones, you nimrod."
Bobby gives him another of his infamous looks. "And I was supposed to get that from 'that guy.'"
"You're the weirdo who was so obsessed with those movies, not-"
"'Weirdo?'"
Case knows that tone, knows that look, but he can't help the grin that grows, damning the consequences.
"You heard me."
Dan isn't sure if he should be more upset or impressed that Sammy had it in him; kid's full of surprises.
"I heard you," he clarifies, concedes, before he's rolling over, pinning the kid and ruffling his hair, roughhousing, earning almost annoyed shoves and shouts.
"Almost" given the unmistakable sound of Sam's laughter.
"Danny-"
"Gonna call me an airhead again?"
"Let me go!" Sam protests, but it's broken up between laughs.
Dan doesn't move.
"You can do better than that, Samuel."
Sam gets a couple good shoves in- or maybe Dan simply let him- before he falls back with defeat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"Better," Dan smirks before pulling away, dropping to the grass again, exhausted.
Sam's giggles (and Dan's) slowly peter out, and if he strains his ears, Dan can almost hear Mom's show carrying through the evening air.
"Should probably head back, face the music."
Bobby's smile falls away, and instinctively Casey wants to retreat, reassess, regroup; he's made a faux pas of some sort, and he needs to rewrite it, ensure he never-
"Case."
He looks up, and Bobby's got that serious look on his face that makes him look too damn old.
He's been seeing it a lot more lately, especially around Aunt Ann.
Likely because of Aunt Ann.
"I'm alright, Bobby."
Will be, anyway.
"He's just-"
And here the words fail him, a perfect irony really, given that Dad's whole explosion tonight was Casey's announcement that he was considering dropping gymnastics, switching to the paper full time.
"He's embarrassed by me."
For never being manly enough. For never being the correct kind of clever. For-
"He's not."
Dan sighs, wonders how he could compact and compress the whole weight of it all in a way that Sam could understand.
In a way Dan could understand.
He stares up at Halley, wonders if, since She's been gracious enough to inspire others, if maybe, somehow-
"You know Dad," Sam starts, in that sickeningly sweet diplomatic tone no one that young has any business being good at.
"Your dad-" Bobby huffs, cuts off, takes another swig of his beer as he glares up at the stars painting the skyline.
"Dan... I'm sure he didn't actually mean anything by it."
"Your dad's an idiot."
Bobby says it emphatically, with all the gravity as the local weather, that soft confidence Casey wishes he could siphon, borrow for a day.
What upsets Casey most though is that they both know Dad's not an idiot, not really.
He knows if he asked, Bobby would step in, step up- Hell, the whole damn team would; despite lacking any skill on the ice, he's somehow become an honorary member, has had more than a few of the guys sit in at his meets as often as he's made it to the games.
They'd step up for him, but he-
"I'll talk to him."
"Good. I don't like it when you guys fight."
"I'm here if you need me, bud."
"I know."
"Sorry, Sammy."
"Thanks, Bobby."
"It's alright."
It's getting colder, and Dan really should get Sam back inside.
"Sam..."
His baby brother's staring up at the Comet again, transfixed, and Dan wonders if that's where his little brother will wind up someday, that brilliant mind of his taking him to the stars.
He can't wait to see the day Sam finds his path.
Can't wait to see him share that light with the whole world.
There's no way Sammy wouldn't.
The kid is light incarnate, and everything he touches is brighter and better for it.
Dan searches for the moon, a silvery shimmer barely gracing the sky, dull compared to the Comet passing them by.
He feels a bit like her sometimes, a stagnant piece locked in someone else's orbit, reflecting the best parts of them, keeping the worst pieces hidden away, never letting them see how dark his thoughts tend to get.
"I'm just... I'm tired of waiting, Sam. I know where I'm going-" Somewhat. "-but getting there is..."
"How's the saying go? 'It's about the journey, not the destination?'"
Casey huffs, deops his forehead back to the metal of the railing again, kicks his feet into the open air.
"Is it really worth it? Honestly?"
"Case..."
"What's the point of trying when I'll just end up disappointing him?"
"It shouldn't matter what someone else thinks."
Dan breathes a laugh out at that; Sam's so young yet, and he half-hopes her can keep that innocence for a while longer.
"Unfortunately, Sammy, it matters a great deal."
Sam hums, and Dan sees his face do some complicated dance, thinking and processing, cataloging and considering, before he turns back.
"It shouldn't. Besides, you're the coolest person I know!"
Dan does laugh this time, and Sam pouts.
"I mean it! I think you're great!"
Dan goes to reassure Sam, tries to, but the kid is plowing ahead, not really listening.
"But it shouldn't matter what other people think! It only matters what you think."
Dan lets the smile falls into something closer to fond, and offers Sammy a thumbs up, confirmation that he's heard, that he's listening.
Dan thinks, and thinks, and he thinks that if it only matters what he thinks-
"I'm gonna prove him wrong."
Bobby laughs, loose and carefree again, and Casey does his best to hide his smile.
It doesn't work.
It's nice, hearing Bobby's laugh; he knows the guy's been stressing over what he's doing after he graduates, and-
"Guess I oughta stick around for a while; can't wait to watch the fireworks."
Casey rolls his eyes, throws another stone, listens to its bounce.
He wonders if the day will ever come.
"We should watch Her the next time She visits."
"When's She due for another visit?"
"2061."
"Case, we're gonna be too damn old to be sitting out in the cold by then."
"Oh, c'mon."
Dan sighs, defeated; he never could say no to Sammy.
"Fine," he drags out, making a show of it, Sam laughing bright, once against chattering in excitement- about Giotto's return, about what it could all mean for their future.
Bobby is smiling, taking it all in, and slowly Casey lets himself truly relax, reciting statics of the craft, its retrofitting, how the mission almost didn't happen.
He tries not to think about how his seeing Her almost didn't happen.
April is cold, and cruel.
Sam shivers again, and Dan decides it's time to head back to the house; Sammy's excited to be getting a piggyback.
Casey's got a curfew, and curses when he realizes he won't make it on his bike; Bobby's already up, gesturing to the truck.
"C'mon, kid. Let's get you home."
*