The Measure of a Man

Dane

Dane sat on the other side of his father's desk. They were alone again, and he couldn't decide if that was more comfortable, or less. It remained eerie watching his father. They looked so alike, at times it fucked with his head. When they'd last spent significant time together he was still a teenager. And though the resemblance had been marked at the time, he hadn't grown into himself yet.

Now… now they were near twins—to an outside observer who didn't know better, his father was simply more dignified, slightly more tired looking version of Dane.

But it turned Dane's head upside down, because he knew the man inside there. And at times he looked and thought he had to be seeing his own future.

As soon as he heard the thought in his own head, he pinched his lips and muttered a curse. Shit. His dad was getting to him.

"Have you watched the tapes, Dane?" his father said without even leading into the conversation.