@t-onks said " take your time with this. it must be very hard on you. "
" it's fine. " teddy is not, by nature, an angry person. they seldom raise their voice. they don't slam doors or point fingers. they're in control, always. but there's something about the events of the past month or so, be it the mass resurrection or the blood on daisy's hands, that has them teetering on the edge of some dark, cavernous feeling. they want an outlet. they need somewhere to lay their burden down.
and as they stand face to face with the very last person they want to see, they're tempted now more than ever to take it out on the nebulous 'them' — the standard they couldn't match, no matter how desperately they tried. the footsteps too washed away for them to follow. the parents that weren't there.
but as per usual, their better judgment prevails. they stare back at their mother cooly. their mother.
" it's strange, that's all. " they speak carefully, watching her face and finding it somewhat like staring into the eyes of those old photos. two-dimensional. disconnected. if she has tells, they don't yet know them — a thought that makes the chasm between them feel deeper and wider than ever. they don't want to cause her pain, but they don't want to humour her either. blood may tie them, but they're still just two people. two imperfect strangers.
" i imagine it's probably strange for you, too, " they say. then, with no small measure of hope: " we don't have to do this, you know. "
