# Like Father, Like Son

Title: Like Father, Like Son
Status: Complete
Characters: Naser, Ripley
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
Summary: Naser and Ripley spend some quality time together.
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Naser shivered involuntarily as he stepped out of the truck’s cab, cursing at himself for not having brought a heavier jacket. It was unseasonably cold up here in the mountains, several hundred miles away from his coastal home of Volcaldera Bluffs. Why had his father wanted to go fishing this weekend, of all things? Naser already had a mountain of homework he had to get to, his AP teachers showing no mercy even during the first week of school. But no: Despite his protests, his hulking father had nearly dragged him out to the beat-up old truck in their garage, the one reserved for camping trips and what his father called “Uncle Moe’s special assignments”. They were going fishing, and that was that.
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Walking to the back of the truck to where his father was unhooking the small fishing boat, Naser hesitated. His father was moving with the familiar speed of a man comfortable with all things trailers and winches and boats. Naser wasn’t exactly an outdoorsman or anything approaching that; hell, he barely knew which direction the coast was from here. Better to let his father finish setting the boat in the water, lest Naser do something to screw things up. Naser flinched as that phrase rose uninvited into his mind. “You’ll only screw it up!” That was a phrase Naser heard a lot of, nowadays. Not from his father, however; from Lu-
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Even in the privacy of his own thoughts, Naser caught himself at the last moment. “They” were Fang now, insisting to the whole family they were someone, something, different. It wasn’t that Naser hadn’t seen this coming, what with the wardrobe change and the punk rock and everything else. But he just thought that was part of Fang growing up, part of the rebellious teenage experience. Someone, like she always did, Fang had taken it to the extreme. Now he had a non-binary sibling, instead of a sister.
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“Naser?”
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The gruff voice of his father snapped Naser out of his thoughts. The ptero patriarch stood at the end of the dock, holding the boat secure while studying Naser with a guarded expression. Naser imagined that his father’s scar seemed larger as of late, often twisting his mouth into a grimace. Or was that just when he looked at what had become of his daughter?
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“Hold the boat, son, while I park the truck.” Naser leapt to agree, not wanting to anger his father anymore than he already was this morning. Nodding, his father climbed back into the truck’s cab, the engine coughing to life as he drove up the boat ramp and into the parking lot. He and Fang had gotten into it again, screaming over the breakfast table about the state of Fang’s new jeans. Naser had hardly believed it himself: The brand-new pair of black jeans their mother had bought, shredded to ribbons by Fang’s own hand. He was sure his father was going to break something when he noticed, but mercifully the confrontation had remained verbal until Fang stormed angrily off to Trish’s house. Come to think of it, that was about the time that his father had called for this fishing trip…
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Shivering again as a particularly icy gust blew across the lake, Naser wondered about Trish, and not for the first time. She and Fang had been friends for a long time now, maybe ten years or more. Naser had fond memories of running the back yard during the long Volcaldera summers, laughing and having water fights with Trish and his sibling. Now, the tiny triceratops looked at him only with vehement hate, as if he had done something unredeemable in her eyes. Naser idly flicked a piece of the old dock into the lake, sighing as he watched the ripples spread out across the icy water. Fang had been giving him the same look, too.
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Mercifully, Naser didn’t need to wait long before his father returned, holding the two fishing rods he had packed slung over one shoulder and gripping a tackle box in the other claw. Without a word, the two men climbed into the small fishing boat; the younger boy taking care to brush off his seat before sitting down in the old boat, the older man leaping in and ripping the cord of the small outboard motor until it gurgled to life. Naser was content to sit in silence for the time being, lost as he was in his thoughts of his sibling, and the fond memories he had of them. What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t possibly know, is that his father was doing the same thing, steering their small boat out into the middle of the lake amid thoughts of his little Pirate Princess, his Lucy. Like father, like son.
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***
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As the day went on, the two men sat silently in their little boat, casing their lines again and again into the lake. The early morning chill had been banished by the sun, a scorching, shimmering ball amid a cloudless blue lake of its own. Naser had since shed his jacket, folding it carefully and placing it on the seat next to him. He thought he saw his father raise an eyebrow at this from the back of the boat, as if the enormous man was somehow looking down at him for trying to keep his jacket clean. His father still hadn’t said a word to him since the dock, and Naser wasn’t sure how much more he could bear of this macho silent treatment. Re-casting his rod again, Naser felt his teeth grinding together. It was all a little more than he could bear: The silent treatment from his father, the disparaging glances he sent from the back of the boat, the fact that none of these damn fish were biting! Naser felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t say something, anything, to break the tension.
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“So, dad, I was-“
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“I’m worried about your sister.”
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His father cut him off, his deep baritone voice echoing across the silent lake. Naser did a double-take, his mouth falling open for a few seconds as he glanced backwards. That was what he wanted to talk about?!
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“Lucy, she’s… She’s slipping away from us, son. Somedays I feel like I don’t even know her, not anymore. It’s hard for an old fossil like me to adapt, see? To adapt to new ways, to new things in my life. So when Lucy started with her whole…” His father’s voice trailed off, one clawed hand grasping at air as if to snag the words out of the air. It looked like he was going to go off on Fang again, berating her, screaming at her just as he did before. But then he sagged back, shoulders drooping, like a balloon with the air let out of it. A freak cloud must’ve past over them, because Naser swore he saw a trail of wetness streak down his father’s cheek.
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“I just don’t know what to do.”
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Careful not to upset the boat, Naser spun around until he was face-to-face with his father. Was this why he had brought them out here? “Dad, I’m worried too. So much has changed since last year, I don’t even know what to say half the time.” Naser was in uncharted waters now, talking about stuff like ‘feelings’ around his father. For as long as Naser could remember, his father was this unflappable boulder of a man, unshaken by anything in his life. To see him brought down like this, by his own flesh and blood, was something Naser never thought he would see. “I think… I think the important thing to do is to show we care, to support them, no matter what.” The ponderous ptero glanced up at “them”, and Naser could tell an argument was already forming on his lips. “Dad, they’re family. No matter what.”
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Ripley hesitated, all thoughts of combating Lucy’s foolish notions of gender evaporating under his son’s sensible phrase. Damnit, the boy was right; she WAS family, no matter who or what she called herself. Inhaling like a bellows, Ripley leaned over, feeling the boat pitch beneath him as he laid a hand on Naser’s shoulder. “Thanks son,” he said, watching the face of his youngest as it brightened at the praise. Maybe Ripley had been a little too cold, in the past. Coughing, Ripley straightened, thankful that his fishing rod gave him something to focus on besides the conversation.
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“So, Naser, tell me about this new girlfriend of yours…”