Bartleby hasn't walked this far in months, and there are grooves of pain beside his mouth by the time he makes it to a convenient table. His breathing a little harsher than he wants you to know. He concentrates on anything other than his surroundings for as long as possible: the grain of wood on the table, Charlie's - his - Driveshaft ring, a
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"Hey, you came down." She smiles.
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"I don't think you've met him properly either. Seth this is Bartleby, Bartleby, Seth."
She holds the baby in her arms so he can peer at Bartleby. Seth for his part just blinks disinterestedly.
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[ooc: emailed you.]
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"I'm surprised you're alone. I would have expected everyone would be crowding you to say hello." She grins.
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She doesn't ever talk about that with people who weren't at the birth, but Bartleby should know.
Seth blows a spit bubble at Bartleby. It's his way of saying he's interested in making his acquaintance.
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Claire nods. "That's the hard part. If Charlie's upset or I'm upset, he doesn't sleep for a long time."
She sighs, "And he won't stop crying."
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"Yeah." She says softly. "There was at least a whole week where he wouldn't stop crying. And of course that upset me, which only made it worse. Charlie couldn't come near him at all it was so bad."
She bites her lip, staring at her son thoughtfully. "That was right after he was almost taken from us."
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