"More of a coincidence than us being paired in the first place?" she remarks, leading them back off the deck, taking corners slow. "Most people here won't fuss if we have it, but some..."
She can imagine how competitive someone like William might get for a mysterious item.
Arthur can feel it, and eventually he reaches out to put a hand on it through the fabric. He can stop when they get there, and he stays a little clear of the egg when she takes it out.
Tess glances back at him when he reaches to touch it, but she doesn't say anything. She just lets them into her room, and she shucks off the bag onto her bed and fishes the egg out, holding it up to the light to see if there's any transparency to the shell. None. The egg just seems happy to be out of the bag, but it's still whining for more than that.
Her gaze drifts to him when he winces. She'd consider herself pretty good at managing pain and discomfort, but if she can avoid some measure of it, she'll try. Easier to play along than fight it every step.
"You might have to put on a smile anyway," she remarks, running a thumb over the shell and then holding it out to him. Your turn, cowboy.
He does it, because it's her, asking it of him. He takes the egg, and it fits easily into the cradle of his arm. It's warm, and beaming contenment when it settles there.
The corner of her mouth curls. His life may not be any more child-friendly than hers, but there's something cute about big tough guys with something small and defenseless.
"You look like you'd let William have it if he came after you for it," she teases, but she'll leave it there.
He shakes his head, firmly, looking down at it. He hadn't seen Isaac at this age, so it's not memories that have him in their grasp. Not really.
"Get on the network and ask anyone else if they had something weird happen," he asks. Not quite an order, but they need to know sooner rather than later.
She fishes out her communicator to tap out messages to a few people. She skims the network too, but it's quiet at this hour. "Looks like at least one other person found one, so there must be more."
The Grandmaster's post is the first one up, and she glances over the brewing conversation with a curious little hmm.
"The other people who've found them are warden and inmate."
"Might end up dissected, otherwise," Tess replies, holding up the communicator for him, and she snorts. Barring that, it'll be carried all over the place, examined, picked apart for secrets. She can't pretend to know what William's ever looking for, just that he's always looking for something. "Harry'll take good care of it, anyway. Can't imagine that man harming a fly. It can't be that hard, either, it's not like it can run away."
"Harry sure did get a raw deal," is all he has to say about that. His thumb has been stroking over the egg's shell, and when he notices that's what he'd been doing he flinches.
Misty too, now that Tess is thinking about it. She doesn't bring it up when she catches Arthur petting the egg, though –– hard not to, when the little thing is beaming happiness straight into their skulls. She chuckles, elbowing him a little.
"Look at you," she teases. "Between the two of us, I think we'll be fine."
The teasing is well-intentioned, and he tries to grin and bear it, but he just can't. Not when he wants honesty from her. He'll pretend his ass off for everyone else, but here, with this thing begging for his attention...
"You think I do?" she replies, a touch more seriously. It's just so much easier to blow off the reality of it, bury any risk of feeling under flippancy. "It's not my idea of fun, but it's a pretty small order compared to, I don't know, life on a prison train. At least you get to keep your memories in one piece."
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?
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momijizukamori
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She pauses.
"You think other people are getting called to it, too, and we're just the first ones here?"
She's not sure she'd fight for it, if it came to it, but she finds herself preparing for the possibility anyway.
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He really doesn't want other people to get to it, though. That's troublesome.
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She can imagine how competitive someone like William might get for a mysterious item.
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“You read my mind.”
The trip back to her cabin is quick, but by the egg is persistently whining about being jostled around in a backpack.
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He really doesn't like how this feels.
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"There's something fucked up about this."
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Which the egg just hates to hear. The pang he feels makes him physically wince and step forward, closer to the egg.
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"You might have to put on a smile anyway," she remarks, running a thumb over the shell and then holding it out to him. Your turn, cowboy.
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And Arthur just looks miserable.
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"You look like you'd let William have it if he came after you for it," she teases, but she'll leave it there.
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"Get on the network and ask anyone else if they had something weird happen," he asks. Not quite an order, but they need to know sooner rather than later.
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The Grandmaster's post is the first one up, and she glances over the brewing conversation with a curious little hmm.
"The other people who've found them are warden and inmate."
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"Things like this, it's usually all of us or no one. Good thing Harry's around."
On account of... William.
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"Jesus."
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"Look at you," she teases. "Between the two of us, I think we'll be fine."
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"Truth be told, I ain't too sure I like it."
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He makes a face at her - yeah, she's right, but he's trying to tell her something.
"It's the memories it's bringing up I don't like."
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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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