Despite Murdoc’s rather callous attitude, he did keep shooting her looks of worry as he led her towards the stairs, taking it slow. Thankfully for Lotus, this wasn’t his first time caring for a sick person; Noodle had come down with her fair share of bugs over the years, and so had 2D and Russel. He’d even taken an open pharmaceutical course while in prison - had his very own PHD! While he wasn’t exactly the nicest caretaker, no one could say he was an incompetent one.
He felt her seize up and immediately skidded to a stop - wide-eyed, suddenly VERY unsure how to handle this. Shit - was she about to be sick? Eyes darted wildly back and forth and, impulsively, he gathered her long hair in his hand, bunching it up like a ponytail and preparing to hold it back if worse came to worse. It wouldn’t stop her from upswallowing, but at the very least she wouldn’t get it all over herself. Eventually, though, Murdoc felt her relax, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The flu, he figured. That’s probably what she’s got. It’s been going around lately.
He immediately released her hair from his grasp, pointedly avoiding her gaze. Embarrassed. He didn’t know how to handle things like this - didn’t know how to go about openly demonstrating care for another human being. Not even his own kin. He gave a light scoff in response to her remark, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, shut up.” The words, while laced with annoyance, were uttered far less harshly than they could have been. He’s leading Lotus up the stairs now - steadily, one at a time. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he continues, “I just don’t want you spreading it around to those of us who actually…” As he actually took the time to listen to himself, however, Murdoc’s voice trailed off. Lapsed into silence.
No, no… he didn’t like where that phrase was going at all. He hadn’t even realized… how much that sounded like…
He pressed his lips into a thin line - tried to ignore the way his own stomach was starting to turn inside out. This was it. This was EXACTLY the thing he’d been sodding worried about. Who the fuck was he trying to fool? He wasn’t a father. He was never supposed to be a father. He just wasn’t cut out for this. He wasn’t any GOOD at it and he never would be - and Lotus knew that too.
Murdoc didn’t speak for the rest of their little journey - simply walked her down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of Lotus’ bedroom door and pushing it open. There was little emotion in his voice when he did address the girl again, and he looked into the room rather than at her face.
“I’m gonna go get the thermometer and some aspirin. Now get to bed.” With that said, he turned on his heel and left to do just that.
Yet another smile crossed her face at the mildly annoyed tone in his voice. For a moment, it felt normal, like she was poking fun at an older brother. She felt herself relax the tiniest bit. Push back all of those thoughts that had previously filled her with such heavy, exhausting anger. She even had it in her to snicker, shoulders weakly shaking as she did so.
But then he spoke again-- clipping his words before they could finish, but she knew exactly where the thought was going. She paused, her face dropping the previous good-natured smirk. So it seems she was right about her theory. Despite everything, Lotus felt a bloom of hurt open up inside of her. God-fucking-dammit. She didn’t want to feel that. She wanted to act like it didn't matter, like she knew all along how this would go and she was glad to be right again. What did she think? The same perfect father she'd dreamed up as a child would just miraculously spring from this awful, broken man? She wanted to pretend she saw that coming, but it looks like she let her guard down for one bleeding second too long.
Instead of her face washing over with the stupid, childish hurt she felt, it hardened. Eyes blank, brows lowering, jaw clenched, mouth a tight, angry line. She broke away from him the first chance she got, attempting to use a little of her strength to cross the room in a dignified stride. She sat down on the foot of the bed, swallowing back any further nausea that rose in her throat. The only thing her eyes bothered to fixate on was her shoes.
Finally, after she heard his footsteps trail away, she shot a look after him.
Whenever he returned, she was still watching the doorway. Abruptly, as if to cover up the fact that even a shred of her cared, she snapped her attention back to her feet. In the few seconds he could have seen her, it would have been clear the burning disappointment in her expression.
Lotus, much like her father, was not very good at keeping her thoughts to herself.
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