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witticasterOakverse. God, I'm terrible at Oakverse, I should probably stick with Farverse.
For the first (and, he hopes, only) time in his life, Sebastian is presented for introduction to a five year old, with all the formality that goes along with introducing the president to foreign dignitaries. He isn't at all sure what to think, but at least he knows what to do and say: nothing, namely, and instead stand there and try not to look threatening.
"Rosie," Archie says, crouching down to look at the girl holding tightly to William's hand (or maybe it's William who has hers in a deathgrip, the expression on his face resigned) as she looks up at Sebastian. "This is Sebastian. He's your big brother--you remember we told you about him, right?"
Rosie nods, and Sebastian wonders if she notices the absolute lack of resemblance between them. Sebastian's vibrantly red hair lies flat against his head without even a hint of body--though at least it's neatly trimmed now--and he feels like nothing but bony angles when he stares at himself in the mirror. Rosie has the fat cheeks of a child of five, with dark hair curling madly about her face and eyes like a winter sky. By the looks of her, Archie's husband has had his indiscretions, too, he thinks, and immediately regrets the thought. She's only five, Archie said they'd been together for nearly a decade now, in some form or fashion, and Sebastian only has to give her one glance over, observe the way Archie smiles at her, to see that they made a conscious choice. There's no doubt that she was wanted.
"Sebastian." Archie stands back up and gives him a quiet smile that he can't interpret with any certainty. Hopeful, maybe, or just hoping Sebastian won't fuck all of this up. "This is your sister, Rosie."
He stands there, wanting nothing more than this awkward meeting in the hospital courtyard to be over. Everyone is looking at him: William with his usual neutral expression, the one that promises little but shit going down if someone crosses him, Rosie wearing same sort of wide-eyed gaze children affix to dinosaur exhibits at the museum, and Archie...well, Sebastian doesn't want to look at Archie. He doesn't want to look at any of them, but especially not his father. Finally, after Archie clears his throat, Sebastian realizes what's expected of him. "Hi, Rosie."
"Hi, Seba--Sebastian," she answers. And then, to his horror, she holds out her arms in what Sebastian assumes means 'please give me a hug' in England, too.
All he wants is to go and hide in his uncomfortable hospital bed, the one that's better than sleeping on a floor but only just, and imagine that he's an orphan--or better yet, the last human being left on the planet. There's no running here, though, if he ever wants to get out of the hospital. And Archie promised to take him to the beach when he earned the right to supervised day trips.
Sebastian's first view of the ocean was from the window of his first airplane, coming over to England. The idea of seeing it up close, of walking in the surf, is more tantalizing than he'd like to admit.
So Sebastian bends down and hugs her, feeling her hands ball into fists at his back, his t-shirt clutched within them. She kisses his cheek before he lets go and smiles at him when he stands back up, all wobbly baby teeth and bright blue eyes.
"I made you a card," she says, then looks to William. "Father, where's my card? I want to give it to Sebastian."
"Oh," William says, and if an expletive was going to follow his exclamation, he swallows it with a practiced ease. "I left it in the car. I'll run and get it after we have lunch."
"We thought we'd stay and have lunch with you today," Archie tells him, still smiling like he's not sure what Sebastian's going to do in response. "So you and Rosie can spend a bit more time together."
Sebastian's not sure what he's going to do in response, either. He doesn't want to fuck things up here, that's for sure, but the more time he spends with Archie's family, the less likely he's going to keep from fucking himself over. They'll regret dragging him halfway across the world one of these days--it's only a matter of time--and since it's their cash that's keeping him fed and sheltered (trapped within four walls, itching for a hit, forced to sit through evaluations and tell me about yourself talks), he wants to keep on their goodwill as long as possible. He shrugs, looking down at the grass. "Okay."
For the first (and, he hopes, only) time in his life, Sebastian is presented for introduction to a five year old, with all the formality that goes along with introducing the president to foreign dignitaries. He isn't at all sure what to think, but at least he knows what to do and say: nothing, namely, and instead stand there and try not to look threatening.
"Rosie," Archie says, crouching down to look at the girl holding tightly to William's hand (or maybe it's William who has hers in a deathgrip, the expression on his face resigned) as she looks up at Sebastian. "This is Sebastian. He's your big brother--you remember we told you about him, right?"
Rosie nods, and Sebastian wonders if she notices the absolute lack of resemblance between them. Sebastian's vibrantly red hair lies flat against his head without even a hint of body--though at least it's neatly trimmed now--and he feels like nothing but bony angles when he stares at himself in the mirror. Rosie has the fat cheeks of a child of five, with dark hair curling madly about her face and eyes like a winter sky. By the looks of her, Archie's husband has had his indiscretions, too, he thinks, and immediately regrets the thought. She's only five, Archie said they'd been together for nearly a decade now, in some form or fashion, and Sebastian only has to give her one glance over, observe the way Archie smiles at her, to see that they made a conscious choice. There's no doubt that she was wanted.
"Sebastian." Archie stands back up and gives him a quiet smile that he can't interpret with any certainty. Hopeful, maybe, or just hoping Sebastian won't fuck all of this up. "This is your sister, Rosie."
He stands there, wanting nothing more than this awkward meeting in the hospital courtyard to be over. Everyone is looking at him: William with his usual neutral expression, the one that promises little but shit going down if someone crosses him, Rosie wearing same sort of wide-eyed gaze children affix to dinosaur exhibits at the museum, and Archie...well, Sebastian doesn't want to look at Archie. He doesn't want to look at any of them, but especially not his father. Finally, after Archie clears his throat, Sebastian realizes what's expected of him. "Hi, Rosie."
"Hi, Seba--Sebastian," she answers. And then, to his horror, she holds out her arms in what Sebastian assumes means 'please give me a hug' in England, too.
All he wants is to go and hide in his uncomfortable hospital bed, the one that's better than sleeping on a floor but only just, and imagine that he's an orphan--or better yet, the last human being left on the planet. There's no running here, though, if he ever wants to get out of the hospital. And Archie promised to take him to the beach when he earned the right to supervised day trips.
Sebastian's first view of the ocean was from the window of his first airplane, coming over to England. The idea of seeing it up close, of walking in the surf, is more tantalizing than he'd like to admit.
So Sebastian bends down and hugs her, feeling her hands ball into fists at his back, his t-shirt clutched within them. She kisses his cheek before he lets go and smiles at him when he stands back up, all wobbly baby teeth and bright blue eyes.
"I made you a card," she says, then looks to William. "Father, where's my card? I want to give it to Sebastian."
"Oh," William says, and if an expletive was going to follow his exclamation, he swallows it with a practiced ease. "I left it in the car. I'll run and get it after we have lunch."
"We thought we'd stay and have lunch with you today," Archie tells him, still smiling like he's not sure what Sebastian's going to do in response. "So you and Rosie can spend a bit more time together."
Sebastian's not sure what he's going to do in response, either. He doesn't want to fuck things up here, that's for sure, but the more time he spends with Archie's family, the less likely he's going to keep from fucking himself over. They'll regret dragging him halfway across the world one of these days--it's only a matter of time--and since it's their cash that's keeping him fed and sheltered (trapped within four walls, itching for a hit, forced to sit through evaluations and tell me about yourself talks), he wants to keep on their goodwill as long as possible. He shrugs, looking down at the grass. "Okay."
