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He was about fifteen, maybe sixteen, when he realised something about himself. His body felt wrong. So did his name. The clothes he wore and the way people saw him, the way people knew him as. He was about seventeen when he did something about it. He experimented with his hair, cut it, dyed it, styled it, until he found what felt right. Blue was always his favourite colour, and he never liked the extreme choices, so he let his boldly dyed hair sit just below his chin. In the middle.
Dresses and skirts had never been his style anyways, although he never had much fashion sense in the first place, which was made all the more apparent when he would wear baggy pants and oversized shirts. He never liked his body, it was wrong, so he would hide it.
Now he was twenty, and the knowledge he had about himself, locked away and kept quiet, ate away at him every day, every time he was addressed or referred to as something that was wrong. It felt like an ache without a remedy, a pain without a cure. He had to do something, say something. But to who? His sister was currently away with the Interplanetary Combatives Academy, and his mother was under the weather. The only person left was his dad.
After his mother had left for a hospital appointment, apparently just a check-in to monitor her illness, is when Ryder decided he would talk to his dad. He has to, as much as the thought make him feel nauseous beyond belief. His dad was always very work orientated; mission–focused and the self came second. What would his dad say? Would he dismiss him entirely? Would he say that he's being stupid, that he's making stuff up? That this is a silly thing to think about and that he should just deal with it, shove it away and hide the truth?
His spiraling mind makes him hesitate, and he turns to walk away from the living room, but his dad calls out to him.
"I know you're hovering. What's wrong kid?"
Ryder fidgets with his hands, taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself, before he awkwardly shuffles into the room to stand by the sofa where his dad is sitting, who's currently reading some sort of old history book.
"I..." Shit. He can't hesitate now. "There's something I want to talk to you about."
There's a noncommittal hum from his dad, his focus still mostly on the book in his hand.
"Dad, please. It's serious." The words come out as more of a desperate plea than he intends.
However, his dad pauses, leans over to grab a piece of paper from the coffee table in front of him, to slot it in between the pages he was reading, before placing the book back on the wooden surface. He looks to his child, and gestures with a subtle nod of his head for Ryder to sit – which he does. The nauseous feeling is already building, and Ryder swears he'll throw up at any moment. His hands are trembling and he knows he's sweating. Regret is already settling in, but he would only feel more guilt if he bothered his dad for no reason.
It takes him a good minute or two to work up the courage to look his dad in the eyes as he finally gets the words he needs the world to hear. "Dad. I'm... I'm trans." And in that moment, Ryder feels like he's going to suffocate.
He doesn't show it in his face, but Alec's eyes widen a touch. A dreadful silence settles over them as Ryder's dad says nothing. Yes, he hasn't been paying much mind to his children as of late, his wife having some health complications, along with his work, taking up most of his time, but he hasn't been totally ignorant of them. He's seen Ryder's change in clothing and mannerisms, but has always assumed that was just the way kids are nowadays. Alec only remembers to say something when he hears Ryder sniffle and look away to wipe his eyes.
"I assume this means you're my son now?"
And Ryder is certainly surprised by his dad's words, and chokes out a, "Yes. Please." between suppressed sobs. He feels so humiliated. He shouldn't cry over something like this, it's stupid.
Alec, despite having a hard time showing it sometimes, does care for his kids deeply, they're the most important people in his life and he would do anything for them, anything to keep them safe. He reaches an arm around his kid, his son, and pulls Ryder into a side hug. "Alright then. But you'll have to forgive your old man if he messes up at first."
Despite his tears, Ryder laughs at his dad's words, happy to lean on his dad's shoulder and accept the comfort from him. "That's fine, dad. I'm... I'm just glad you aren't angry with me."
Alec scoffs. "Angry? You're my kid, my... son. There's nothing you, or Sara, could do that would ever make me angry. I just tell you two off to keep you safe."
Ryder, hearing his dad call him 'son', now has a wide grin forming on his face, and instead of that familiar ache and painful feeling he gets, instead he experiences a giddy, almost high feeling. It feels like the best thing in the world, like so much weight has lifted from his shoulders. Someone knows, and someone knows him. The real him.
He takes a breath, and speaks again, a lot more relaxed this time. "And... what's your thoughts on the name 'Pluto'?"
"Pluto? Like the dwarf planet?" Alec raises an eyebrow at his son.
"Yeah. I think it's a cool name. I mean how many Plutos do you know, dad? It stands out."
His dad grins. "Well, I would say none, but I think I know one 'Pluto' now." And that has Ryder tearing up all over again.
Ryder wipes the water from his eyes as his dad moves the arm wrapped around his back to ruffle his blue hair instead. Pluto laughs, and leans away to look at his dad. "Hey! You'll mess up the hair."
"You'll live."
The mood lifts thanks to Alec, and soon Pluto decides to stay with his dad for a bit, watching the TV that's quietly playing some sort of movie about a turian spectre doing something important; Pluto is only half paying attention. His dad doesn't object to the quiet company, and grabs his book to pick up where he left off.
Out of the blue, Alec breaks the silence. "Pluto?"
His heart leaps into his throat at hearing his name. "Yes?"
"You told anyone else yet?"
"I... no. Just you dad. Just you."