Because she does, in fact, understand how weird this is and how bewildering it can be to lose a...partner, Neph reaches up and smooths Hannibal's hair away from his face. Her mouth twists to the side, trapping redundant reassurances. They'll fix this. They will.
And if the process of fixing it raises questions about why they haven't done the same for Hannibal, well...
Will comes back to them on silent sneakered feet and, look, Neph knew a lot of kids in foster care, but you could sort most of 'em into two general categories: the ones who coped by making themselves quiet, and the ones who coped by being impossible to ignore. No question as to which one Will is, was, or always has been. Her hand falls back to her side as she turns to him, looking down not-quite-as-far-as-expected. He wasn't a big eight year old, but she's not a very big eighteen year old. So, hey, it all works out.
"M'sure," she says, with a nod that adds I checked the budget. "Your dad left some money for food and stuff, said he didn't expect us t'feed you for free, but you don't look like you eat a lot and this one--" a thumb jerks at Hannibal, who's momentarily traded in his creepy stare to glare at the squeaky cart wheel. "--cooks, like, all the time. So we can put that money to gettin' you some clothes an' call it Back To School Shopping."
Summer's spiraling the drain, she feels it every time she slips out her window. The night bites more than it did just two weeks ago. Hm, Will might need a jacket, or at least one heavier layer...
She has one hand on the cart and the other reaching for a child-sized hoodie with appliquéd shark heads for pockets, when Hannibal speaks directly to Will for the first time.
It goes about as well as she probably should've expected.
"...Aren't you really young to be married?" says the eight year old, skeptical in a way Neph never realized only children could be. She'd be annoyed if she weren't so aware of Hannibal's clockwork brain popping a spring and flying into maximum gear right next to her. He looks at her with victory shining in his eyes and poised in his freakin' dimples, and Neph--
--breaks into a wide grin in response. This is gonna mess with Will so hard when he gets back, which is only fair if they're gonna babysit him for the next week and a half. And anyway, 'married' is as good an explanation as any for what he's likely to see all week, the way they share each other's space and how she curls up with her feet thrown over his lap on the couch.
She's not grinning because it's nice for someone to notice they're close, to comment on it in a way that isn't suggestive. It certainly doesn't spark a little ball of sunlight in her ribcage, not at all.
"Yeah but we're not married," she sniffs as she turns the cart towards a rack of shirts. "We're engaged. That's, like, marriage with takebacksies."
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timeasmymeasure
oh. my. god. did. you. just.
Date: 2017-08-26 08:20 am (UTC)And if the process of fixing it raises questions about why they haven't done the same for Hannibal, well...
Will comes back to them on silent sneakered feet and, look, Neph knew a lot of kids in foster care, but you could sort most of 'em into two general categories: the ones who coped by making themselves quiet, and the ones who coped by being impossible to ignore. No question as to which one Will is, was, or always has been. Her hand falls back to her side as she turns to him, looking down not-quite-as-far-as-expected. He wasn't a big eight year old, but she's not a very big eighteen year old. So, hey, it all works out.
"M'sure," she says, with a nod that adds I checked the budget. "Your dad left some money for food and stuff, said he didn't expect us t'feed you for free, but you don't look like you eat a lot and this one--" a thumb jerks at Hannibal, who's momentarily traded in his creepy stare to glare at the squeaky cart wheel. "--cooks, like, all the time. So we can put that money to gettin' you some clothes an' call it Back To School Shopping."
Summer's spiraling the drain, she feels it every time she slips out her window. The night bites more than it did just two weeks ago. Hm, Will might need a jacket, or at least one heavier layer...
She has one hand on the cart and the other reaching for a child-sized hoodie with appliquéd shark heads for pockets, when Hannibal speaks directly to Will for the first time.
It goes about as well as she probably should've expected.
"...Aren't you really young to be married?" says the eight year old, skeptical in a way Neph never realized only children could be. She'd be annoyed if she weren't so aware of Hannibal's clockwork brain popping a spring and flying into maximum gear right next to her. He looks at her with victory shining in his eyes and poised in his freakin' dimples, and Neph--
--breaks into a wide grin in response. This is gonna mess with Will so hard when he gets back, which is only fair if they're gonna babysit him for the next week and a half. And anyway, 'married' is as good an explanation as any for what he's likely to see all week, the way they share each other's space and how she curls up with her feet thrown over his lap on the couch.
She's not grinning because it's nice for someone to notice they're close, to comment on it in a way that isn't suggestive. It certainly doesn't spark a little ball of sunlight in her ribcage, not at all."Yeah but we're not married," she sniffs as she turns the cart towards a rack of shirts. "We're engaged. That's, like, marriage with takebacksies."