The Weight of Fingers
200 word drabble about how Linc feels standing at the fence at Sona.
When they were kids, Lincoln remembers the weight of Michael’s hand in his being too heavy.
Walking to the hospital to visit their mother, or later, when small fingers would clutch at bigger ones as they were escorted into Foster homes. When they’d slept at night, Michael never let go of Lincoln. The morning would come with a hand pressed desperately into his palm, and he’d wonder how Michael managed to hang on when both of them were in different positions than when they fell asleep.
He’d been too young then to realize Michael just needed the contact; he hadn’t expected anything from it. He wasn’t looking for answers, he just wanted his brother with him.
Lincoln had spent years getting that feeling off his hand, off his heart.
Standing by the fence at Sona, feeling the all-too-brief brush of his little brother’s fingers against his own as he offers money through the chain-link, he knows he’ll do anything to feel that weight again. He’d willing take it all, for however long he has to, forever, if it means he can again feel the weight of his brother’s hand in his.
Trusting, knowing he’s there.
And he ain’t ever leaving.
When they were kids, Lincoln remembers the weight of Michael’s hand in his being too heavy.
Walking to the hospital to visit their mother, or later, when small fingers would clutch at bigger ones as they were escorted into Foster homes. When they’d slept at night, Michael never let go of Lincoln. The morning would come with a hand pressed desperately into his palm, and he’d wonder how Michael managed to hang on when both of them were in different positions than when they fell asleep.
He’d been too young then to realize Michael just needed the contact; he hadn’t expected anything from it. He wasn’t looking for answers, he just wanted his brother with him.
Lincoln had spent years getting that feeling off his hand, off his heart.
Standing by the fence at Sona, feeling the all-too-brief brush of his little brother’s fingers against his own as he offers money through the chain-link, he knows he’ll do anything to feel that weight again. He’d willing take it all, for however long he has to, forever, if it means he can again feel the weight of his brother’s hand in his.
Trusting, knowing he’s there.
And he ain’t ever leaving.