As someone said his name, Declan did flinch ever so slightly. Using his name though was helpful. When he had been trapped, nobody really ever used his name. It was always 'boy' or 'thing', never simply Declan. It seemed less threatening when people used his name. His lips twitched upward into the smallest of smiles. He gave a firm nod and offered a small shrug. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide his best option of communication. Sometimes he could speak, but often his throat felt like there was a rock in it. He relied on sign language or his phone. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, typing out a message and hitting play on the text reader.
'The crowd is a lot and Americans... are... strange.' he confessed to her with an innocent little smile. At the offer of the lemonade, he slowly reached out to take it. 'Thank you.' For that, he used sign language and a smile. He held the cool bottle in his hand, letting the condensation wet his fingers. It felt nice. He nodded again. The lights and noise were a lot. He could handle an overflowing ER but this crowd was different. More chaotic energy and too much. He pointed toward the ferris wheel and shrugged before holding out his arm to her. 'Lead the way.'
Fallon noticed the small flinch and her expression immediately softened with understanding. She offered him a gentle smile and slowed her movements so she wouldn’t overwhelm him further. When the text-to-speech played, she let out a tiny laugh and nodded warmly. “Yeah… it can be a lot, can’t it? Especially when everything is loud and bright and spinning all at once. I get overwhelmed in crowds too sometimes.” She watched him sign ‘thank you’ and her face lit up. She signed back smoothly, “You’re welcome.” When Declan held out his arm, Fallon didn’t hesitate. She slipped her arm gently through his, staying close but not too tight, offering quiet comfort. She started walking with him at an easy pace, glancing over every few steps to check on him. “If it gets too much, just squeeze my arm, okay? We can stop or leave whenever you need. No pressure.”
Walking slowly, she kept her pace unhurried as they moved away from the heart of the carnival. Her arm stayed looped comfortably through his, and without even realizing it, her thumb began tracing soft, absentminded circles against his forearm—a soothing little habit she often did when trying to comfort someone, or herself. The noise and chaotic energy faded the closer they got to the far side of the Ferris wheel. The lights were still beautiful here, but the music and crowd chatter had dulled into a more manageable hum. “Look, over there,” she said, nodding toward a wooden bench tucked behind one of the ticket booths. It was partially shielded by some decorative fencing and strings of lights, offering a decent view of the wheel without being directly in the thick of everything. She guided them over and carefully helped him sit first before settling down beside him, leaving a respectful but friendly amount of space between them. Her hand lingered for a moment on his arm, still unconsciously drawing those small circles with her thumb. “Better?” she asked gently, turning to look at him with warm, concerned eyes. “We can stay here as long as you want. No rush at all.” She signed “Okay?” with her free hand, tilting her head with a small, kind smile.
