Point. She purses her lips for a moment. How many years had she spent being chased off the subject of lost kids, learning not to even bring it up? And she'd said herself that looking for this little thing was like looking for Ellie on the train, and it's odd to feel like that memory isn't completely foreign to her, either.
"Arthur," she says. "It's not your kid. You don't have to get attached to it."
She considers just telling him to just man up and deal with it, put in the work and then move on, but there’s a part of her that feels resigned to it. She’s spent so many years managing a man’s feelings about children that another week isn’t going to kill her. Arthur might even appreciate it, and that settles it for her.
“Then cut it off here and go back to bed,” she says, clipped, and she moves to take the egg from him. “I can handle it if you want off the hook this time.”
That gets his hackles up, immediately. He clenches his teeth and lets out a low, annoyed sound before thrusting the egg out at her.
"I'll be by later," he just says. He's not going to let her 'handle it'. He just needs a little time to get used to the idea. who knows how long this will take?
"Alright," she replies, unsurprised. She takes the egg, which does not like the attitude from either of them, and she runs a hand over its shell like it's a baby's skull. Arthur can let himself out.
He does. He goes back to his cabin, and back to a bad habit: he has a drink
before breakfast, and he smokes a cigarette that aggravates his lungs. This
is so stupid - he spent years not thinking about this. Who the hell
did he tell? Hosea and Dutch, and then, years later, Rains Fall. Just a few months ago, Tess. Why can't he just do the thing for the stupid egg?
The worst part is that he can still feel it, calling for him, whining for
his attention. He ignores it; it gets worse.
It's made immediately clear to Tess that the egg wants Arthur there whether he wants to be or not –– the little thing fusses most of the time, and the most she manages is an hour-long nap with the egg wrapped in a hoodie and tucked under one arm. When the whining kicks off again, she gives up and walks around the Barge with it. Back up to the deck, down to the lowest levels, back up top again. Shes almost there when she runs into Arthur, and she throws him a tight smile. She's a little annoyed at herself for letting him off easy. Annoyed at him, too. She hopes he's heard even half the fussing she has.
He grunts again, and holds out his hands for the egg.
"Didn't sleep. Got a headache to boot." And he's got an inkling it'll go away like magic once he's got the egg back in his hands. He also doesn't like that, doesn't like being manipulated, but she's made it clear they're not here to talk about it.
She passes it over still wrapped in her hoodie. She can smell the tobacco on him this close and is sorely tempted to bug him for one for herself too, but it can wait.
“Mmhmm. I’m clearly not enough for an egg,” she replies, dryly.
"Not even human babies are that needy." Hands liberated, she rakes her fingers through her hair to pull it back into a ponytail. "Or the more you resist, the more it wants you."
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"Arthur," she says. "It's not your kid. You don't have to get attached to it."
Easier said than done.
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"Don't have to, but it's trying its damnedest to make me."
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“Then cut it off here and go back to bed,” she says, clipped, and she moves to take the egg from him. “I can handle it if you want off the hook this time.”
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"I'll be by later," he just says. He's not going to let her 'handle it'. He just needs a little time to get used to the idea. who knows how long this will take?
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He does. He goes back to his cabin, and back to a bad habit: he has a drink before breakfast, and he smokes a cigarette that aggravates his lungs. This is so stupid - he spent years not thinking about this. Who the hell did he tell? Hosea and Dutch, and then, years later, Rains Fall. Just a few months ago, Tess. Why can't he just do the thing for the stupid egg?
The worst part is that he can still feel it, calling for him, whining for his attention. He ignores it; it gets worse.
So, three hours later, he sets out to find Tess.
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"Sleep okay?"
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"Didn't sleep. Got a headache to boot." And he's got an inkling it'll go away like magic once he's got the egg back in his hands. He also doesn't like that, doesn't like being manipulated, but she's made it clear they're not here to talk about it.
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“Mmhmm. I’m clearly not enough for an egg,” she replies, dryly.
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"Don't get what it's making the fuss about. If it's got one of us, why's it matter?"
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"Maybe that's it. None too subtle."
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