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"Really?"

Not that he doesn't trust Andrew. He completely trusts Andrew. He's never done anything but trust Andrew.

It's just that this has been the longest they've ever been apart. This is the first time he's stretched out on his back night after night and wondered if he would really see his best friend again at the end of the next week.

It had left a bit of unpleasant incredulity in his shoulders, holding him back from running at the other young man for the hug he desperately needed.

"You're-- sure?"

She's got one son leaving and coming back like a shark constantly breaching after its pray. She's got two more champing at the bit to do exactly the same. She's used to having all her boys--and the two girls she had all but taken into her home like her own, and the boy standing before her now--tell her they're 'fine' while bleeding profusely before her very eyes.

"Really."

There's a good deal more sharpness in her when she isn't with her husband. There's an absolute efficiency of movement as she reaches to smooth experimentally at his hair.

"Nothing broken?"

"I'm sure, Ed."

And he's tired, and he's missed his best friend dearly, so the words are going to come out a little shorter than he'd usually let himself.

"Just-- come here 'nd I can prove it, mm?"

"No, ma'am."

Although there might be something bruised, judging by the delicate way with which he's holding himself. Still, it's surely not such a big deal.

He's been barely able to hold himself back. How can he hold back more when he's being asked to come forward?

Probably he could have moved more slowly. Somehow, the need to be closer comes as an absolute tackle.

"--not sorry 'f this hurts."

It's not such a big deal. It's not going to get her twitching toward any first aid kits or phone calls to his parents.

But it is going to twist her lips down at the corners as she nods.

"Have a seat anyway, mm? Ed won't be home for another hour."

"Oof."

Why, Ed. Why the tackle.

"'s okay. Doesn't hurt."

He's not particularly injured, after all. Just a little sore and a lot tired.

"Thanks, Ms. Lorraine."

Because unlike his cousin, he's good at accepting being fussed over.

Well. Comparatively good, at least. Not quite so good as to not hide any injuries he may have.

Edited 2014-06-12 05:48 (UTC)

Because love, clearly. Because intense worry. Because growing up together has been growing up together, and this first long stretch of apart-ness has his own nerves left completely jangled.

His face won't be moving from Andrew's shoulder for a good long time now.

"Good. 'd hate t' have to kick your ass for getting hurt."

"Tea?"

Because it's a good first offer. A very normal first offer. The first thing most people who came to the Eicheln home got offered.

"Ice pack?"

It's usually the second offer for her boys--even the ones who aren't strictly hers so much as attached at the hip to one of hers.

"I'm fine," he repeats, burying his head back into Edgar's shoulder in response, "'ve just-- missed you."

"Yes, please."

To both, clearly, though he won't go outright and say so. He unfortunately got some of that stubbornness from Edgar.

He also got the tendency to flop in a chair from him, although that's a little balanced out now by the fact his ribs hurt.

"Like-- crazy a lot, right?"

Which is something they'll get used to. Which is something they'll both learn to work with.

Which is probably still going to involve a lot of tight clinging on days like this.

She can't help the slightly amused sound of her exhale. It's amazing, how many mannerisms this one and her oldest have traded back and forth over the years.

"Any difficulty, this time?"

It's polite to ask, after all, while filling a kettle to set on the stove.

"Crazy a lot."

More than he realized he would-- and he'd already anticipated missing him immensely.

"Nothing too worrying," he says "Couple fights. Lot of running."

So the usual.

"How were things here?"

"But."

And he can't stop the sudden brightness of his smile against Andrew's shoulder. He doesn't remotely begin to think of hiding it from his voice.

"You're back now."

"About the same." There's the tiniest bit of amusement at the corner of her lips as she pulls an ice pack out to hand over to him. "A couple of fights. More running than should be strictly necessary."

All part of being a mother, really.

"I am."

Which means he can hold his best friend tight and smile at the happiness in his voice.

"'s pretty great."

"Fights?" Andrew repeats with a hint of worry as he accepts the ice pack gratefully. He'll wait until he has it settled on his ribs before he speaks again, "Everyone all right?"

"All the way back."

Not just to the Deck. Not just to the Clubs.

But here, properly, where Edgar could feel their heartbeats at the same time.

"Everyone's fine. Just some wounded pride. You know how Max and Edgar get."

And there's affection in the way she uses the elder boy's full name, but also a very obvious assignation of blame.

"Yup."

And it's so much better, to be properly home. To be reunited with his best friend after so much time away.

He laughs a little, then winces as it jostles his ribs.

"I do know. Good to know things were carrying on as normal, then."

"Hey."

And it's something, generally, that Edgar's never shy of saying. It's something that drops easily here and there in conversation.

It's just that it feels like he hasn't said it in years somehow. "I love you."

The murmur of 'careful' is entirely instinctive, despite her attention being on the boiling water she's pulling from the stove to steep a mug of tea for him. It's impossible to stop being a mother with someone so close to being a son.

"It's good you're back, mm? You know Ed's a nightmare when he's brooding."

And yet, it's easily returned. Not even a heartbeat of a pause on Andrew's end.

"Love you, too, Ed."

And it's nice to still be mothered, if he's honest with himself. Especially after coming home from a mission like the one he'd just been on.

"He is," he agrees, "But don' worry. 've got him, now."

Or he will once the older boy shows up, at least.

It's important to hear. It's important to feel deep in his soul, to have it actually resonate against his skin.

"Dork."

"Where would I be without you, mm?"

The mug of tea is set carefully in front of him--and a bottle of painkillers is set next to it without comment. Just in case.

"Stay for dinner?"

"Absolutely."

And proud of it, really.

"With a very broody eldest son, I think."

And there's a grateful smile as she sets the tea before him, and another at the painkillers.

"I'd love to. Thanks."

"Good."

It does mean he'll have to hold still and suffer a firm kiss on the cheek, but surely that's to be expected.

At least he suffers it well. At least he laughs, quietly and briefly, and returns the kiss to her cheek easily.

"You're awesome, Ms. Lorraine."

"I am," she agrees readily, "and you're not so bad yourself, Mr Andrew."

Best son-in-law she could have asked for (if that's what a person called their son's heterosexual life mate).

"Try my best."

Especially for Edgar, and for her.

(no subject)

1986, I tell you!

And 1988 why not B|

aah \o

Babyyyyy

All the love ; ; <3

Everyone into her arms always okay okay

/snuggles

/flies to

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\o/ <3

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<333

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Chrome crasheded before I could tag this but NOW i am a sleepy

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Chrome why you doooo

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because chrooome

o9999

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