#l. barker

[razorgleam]

@shadowedvales asks, are we safe here?

are they save in this home? are they safe in hawkins? the latter... well, lucy isn't so sure of. whatever her plan was when she was a young woman, it certainty wasn't this. maybe the moving to america part but was it to stay in a dead-end town? was it to work for a man conducting on experiences on children and worse? was it to loose everything ( she thinks ) she's ever known? no. none of it. but holding elle now, brushing the hair out from her eyes, it has all been worth it. lucy holds the girl as if she is her own daughter ( and to her, eleven is. ) presses a kiss to the side of her head. mother comforting child after a nightmare.

❝ yeah, honey. ❞ mother's job is to protect. it is not to be unsure of herself or insecure. they should be safe here, anyway. with brenner... gone. lucy weaves her fingers through elle's hair. ❝ nobody knows where we are. everything bad is gone. ❞ she hopes. lucy cannot remember if she was a religious woman before, but she prays now: let my girl be safe. ❝ you wanna talk about your dream? ❞

[razorgleam]

@shadowedvales sent, [ FLOWER ]: sender offers a flower to receiver.

there is something like home. for the past decade ( and then some ), lucy would come back to four cold walls. no pictures hanging on the walls. no one waiting for her. she would stare at those walls until she passed out on the sofa. there was no one in lucy averley's life. no one except for eleven. she could at least dream knowing that the little girl with the big brown eyes was waiting for her to come early the next morning. but now, when lucy comes home, eleven is waiting for her.

purse discarded to the side. bouquets of flowers spilling from her grasp. a wide smile. is this what it's like for mothers to come home to their daughters? ( is this what life had in store for her before? )

❝ oh! thank you, eleven. ❞ lucy grins at the offered blossom. she takes it, leaning in closer to the girl. ❝ do you remember what this one is called? let's see... it's purple, it has a yellow center... ❞ all day at the florist shop, lucy looks at the faces of customers she wonders if she used to know. all day, she spends wondering if they recognize her and her stomach twists with worry that eleven won't be there when she comes home. being able to smell her hand soap and see her bright face... she is home. they are home.

❝ i've brought home some new flowers today. would you like to see? ❞