Give me a word. Give me a sign.

Sep 24, 2007 19:36

Alison had never considered her husband to be the sulking type. Occasionally, he became sad and pouted for a bit. But, on the whole, Longshot was a constant bright spot of joy. That had changed some, since his surgery. He had been experiencing bouts of depression and angry mood swings. An uncomfortable thought had settled on her as she watched him struggle with those parts of his recovery. What if the constantly sweet, upbeat, and joyful man she had known for all this time had just been a side effect of Mojo's tampering with Longshot's brain? A way to keep him continuously stuck in the role of the "buffoon" for the Bloat's sick amusement?

And she had enjoyed it. Certainly not for the same reasons that Mojo would have, but the thought still made her ill.

She tried not to think about it.

At the moment, what she was thinking about most was whether or not the landscaping around their koi pond could stand much more of this particular sulk. Longshot had been outside for a good while kicking stone into and around the pond. She'd seen him from their bedroom window, watched fro a few minutes, and then wandered downstairs and outside. He was so deep into his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed her arrival yet. She took a seat on the bench overlooking the pond and waited.

One of their babies was thumping around lightly inside of her. In no time, the squiggling would wake the other twin and a new round of uterus olympics would begin. She rubbed a light circle against the active side of her tummy and waited for Longshot to notice her.

memory, longshot, babies

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