Chapter Text
If anyone were to ask Deva why he is the way he is, he wouldn’t know what to say. He hears what the other children say about him, hears the whispered warnings and feels the incredulous stares. Sometimes, he even hears his parents talk when they think he’s not listening.
Today their voices are hushed, but Deva can still hear them from where he sits, just outside their home.
“It’s okay,” Nanna says, voice weary, “It’s normal–”
“It’s too much,” Amma retorts, “the others are scared of him, he’s out of hand.”
“Has he ever done anything wrong though?” his father asks, and Amma cannot reply. She is rarely able to respond when his father says something along those lines, because it’s true, Deva has never done anything wrong, per say, but he feels too much, too strongly. All the time. His instincts are overwhelming, he’s too–
“–expressive,” he hears his father say, “but his heart’s in the right place.”
“Today it was a stray dog,” his mother snaps, “tomorrow he’ll think he can take on an army.”
“He’ll change, ammadi, or we’ll teach him.” his father says, and Deva can almost imagine the look on his father’s face, knows his shoulders must be stiff, his brow furrowed. Deva is told he resembles his mother more, but he knows he has his father’s eyes and their intensity.
“It will only get harder for him,” Amma sighs, “when will you take this seriously, and think about the future?”
“We have time, we’ll handle the future as it comes, and so will Deva.”
There’s a pause, and Deva gets to his feet, about to leave, when he hears his mother’s voice again, softer than before.
“Do you think it’s because of us?” she says, and Deva has to focus to hear her properly, “because we’re–”
‘Both alphas,’ Deva thinks. Because both of his parents are alphas. Deva knows that his parents are a bit of a rarity. It shouldn’t be so easy for two alphas to be so compatible, but it’s like his parents are made for each other, congruent in every way.
“There’s no point in thinking about that,” his father interrupts, tone brooking no argument, “we’ll handle it. We’ll handle him.”
Deva swallows. Is it really so terrible? Things could’ve been worse in so many other ways. It’s unfair, but what’s even more unfair is that he understands. The people of the Shouryaanga tribe all look up to his parents – the approval that the rest of the tribe has for their leadership perpetually evident – but he is the odd one out, the unpredictable one. He’s not thoughtful, or logical, like them. If there’s anything he’s inherited, it’s his mother’s obstinate nature and his father’s intensity – and that, along with his inherent recklessness, makes everything that much more difficult.
He moves to leave, before a hand tamps down on his shoulder. He winces, turning to look up at his father, who merely raises his eyebrows.
“How much did you hear?”
Deva stays silent, choosing instead to stare at the ground.
A moment passes, before Deva looks back up at his father. “Is Amma okay?” he asks, because it would hurt if she wasn’t, but maybe he’d deserve the weight of that knowledge.
“She’s worried," his father says, "for you."
“I’m fine though,” Deva holds his arm up.
“Devaratha,” his father’s voice is harsh, “you tried to face a rabid dog. You realize how reckless it was?”
Deva frowns, “It would have bit someone, I stopped it easily. They would've shot it down instead, and I had a plan.”
His father sighs. “This isn’t the first time. You always have a new reason, but Deva, just because we have a capacity for something, it doesn’t mean we should always use it. Sometimes, you should know when to hold back.”
Deva frowns. His father doesn’t understand how truly hard it is to look away from some things, to keep his head separate from his emotions, the way the rest of them do.
“And if I can’t?”
His father takes a breath, sitting down on the stairway, he pulls Deva down next to him, and they sit in silence for a while.
“You’re growing, Deva. You’re bound to form your own definitions of right and wrong. But there is a time to fight, and a time to stand down.”
“Even if it’s for someone important?”
“Especially then. One day you will understand what it means to hold yourself back, what it means to love something enough to know that you must.”
Deva must appear unconvinced, because his father turns to him seriously. “At some point, you will have to make difficult decisions,” he starts, “and you must always make sure to try and do what you won’t regret; it’s the best we can do.”
He stands to leave, before pausing at the threshold, “but Deva?” He turns back towards Deva.
“I want you to remember, something done truly for love can never really be a mistake.”
The words embed themselves within Deva’s mind, and he accepts this knowledge, unaware that these words will come to haunt him, years later.