wickedchouette | (no subject)

[When the car radiator overheats for the third time in a week, Alfie takes it as a sign that it's finally time for more than just another quick tune-up.

They're in a deserted area, which is both good and bad. On the one hand, most of the dangerous gangs are still in urban areas, the way they had been before the world had gone to shit. Out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles and miles of fields with only the occasional small copse of trees, they're not likely to run into anyone at all, much less anyone dangerous. But on the other hand, if they do come across anyone, there won't be anywhere to run to or hide. Alfie, as always, has his pistol tucked into his coat pocket, and they have more weapons stashed away in the trunk. But they're a small group - no match for the bigger gangs with armored trucks and heavy artillery. If they meet one of those, they'll be slaughtered.

With his sleeves rolled up and the hood of the car open, he leans in with his tools, carefully tinkering away. He can't afford to make a mistake here - replacement parts are rare and precious. When he hears footsteps behind him, he doesn't dare look away from his work as he says sharply:]

Stay back. You don't want hot steam to the face.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She has an idea that something bad happened to them. But she doesn't quite comprehend death as a concept yet, and so she just takes it as they got left behind.

She doesn't want that. She knows she'd be really scared if she was. ]

It's okay. There's a lotta stuff Mommy says she wishes I didn't have to see, too. [ Mercy looks up at Alfie again, expression kind of relieved. ] And I know. You all carry me 'cause you love me and I'm really happy about that. I'm still gonna try to walk a lot though, okay?

[He's trying so hard not to look pained, but there are just some things even he can't poker face his way out of.]

Yeah, I know you are. Goodness, you're an amazing girl.

[ She grins a little at that, tilting her head. And now something that Royce has absolutely taught her to do, to Gwen's chagrin: ] I try!

[ She hopes it makes Alfie smile a little. She knows it makes Royce laugh. ]

[She is simply too precious for words. He does smile just a tiny bit, and he softens, his face looking a little less haggard. These days, that's his version of a big grin.]

Have you got any idea how much you help us? Just by being you.

[ Aw, yay, Mercy is pleased. The smile on his face makes her feel all warm and fuzzy, which means she's just going to hug Alfie tightly. ]

If you say so. [ She says shyly. ]

[There's a delicate balance to be maintained here, he feels. He wants her to feel like a contributor in her own way, and he wants her to know how important she is to all of them. But he also doesn't want her to feel like it's her job to keep them safe and happy, rather than the other way around.

He hugs her back, giving her hair a light comb-through with his fingers.]

I do. You are doing wonders for me right now, at this very moment.

[And she really, really is.]

[ Alfie does a good job of it. And there is a balance there, but Mercy is still Gwen's child - she takes on as much as she can, because it feels good to help. ]

I am? [ She beams. ] Good! I don't want you to be sad. I know you are lots and that's okay, 'cause Mommy says it's okay to be sad 'cause of all the stuff that's happened, like how we don't have a real house anymore, or - or ice cream. Um. [ Where was she going with this. Right. ] But I like it when you don't feel so bad.

[He kisses her on the forehead, and then tells her when he's told Gwen and Royce so many times:]

When I'm at my happiest, it's with you.

[ There's nothing quite like that to make her happy. She giggles a little at the feeling of his beard, and then settles down in his lap. ]

'Kay. [ Problem solved, obviously. ] Can you tell me a story before I gotta go to bed? [ A beat, and then she squints around the campsite. ] Mommy and Daddy are off being romantic, so you can tell me whatever story you wanna.

Any story I like. All right.

[He closes his eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling of holding her in his arms. And if, for just a second, he imagines her as another little girl or boy... well. She doesn't need to know that.

Truthfully, he's not up for talking enough to tell a proper story, so he opens his eyes and murmurs:]

Do you know what I would like? I'd like to hear one of your stories.

Ummm... I don't know any good ones. [ But she can try. And she will! She summons up a story that sounds remarkably like Beauty and the Beast, except she changes all the names and little details here and there. Most of it takes place in the world they're living in now, in an abandoned and broken down building, because Mercy can't really remember much of being in real houses, let alone mansions.

She's not a master story teller because she's only four, but it's decently coherent. And she's also sleepy, so about halfway in, she starts to drift off a little, her voice getting quiet and slower, yawns interrupting her speech every so often. ]

[She's totally a master storyteller in Alfie's mind. He'll eat up anything he wants to give her. But when she starts to drift off, he kisses her on the cheek, stroking her hair in hopes he can help move her towards sleep. She needs her rest, badly. The rest of the story can wait.]