Fringe Fic - Lost
He wasn’t an adult.
He sat on the bench. He’d been sitting there for two hours. The bus still hadn’t come. He couldn’t have caught it if he did. But he wanted it to come. If it came by, then he wasn’t lost. He knew exactly where he was and how to get home. The bus didn’t come. Despite his wishing, none of the buses that came were his bus.
There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. How would Peter know how to find him? Would he get in trouble? Would Peter let him go out alone again? He was an adult damn it!
A woman sat down next to him. He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. He found himself crying, one tear, two, then they were running down his face and he made no move to stop them. He had cried too much lately. 17 years in a mental hospital without a single tear. But in the real world there was so much to cry about. He was explaining his predicament to the woman, who obviously couldn’t understand him. Even to his own ears he sounded like a lost child.
Thankfully, some things go beyond the language barrier. She took him home, cooked him a meal and found Peter. He wasn’t lost anymore. He didn’t have a clue where he was, but he wasn’t lost. He wasn’t an adult either. He wasn’t a child.
He was recovering, and that would take time
He sat on the bench. He’d been sitting there for two hours. The bus still hadn’t come. He couldn’t have caught it if he did. But he wanted it to come. If it came by, then he wasn’t lost. He knew exactly where he was and how to get home. The bus didn’t come. Despite his wishing, none of the buses that came were his bus.
There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. How would Peter know how to find him? Would he get in trouble? Would Peter let him go out alone again? He was an adult damn it!
A woman sat down next to him. He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. He found himself crying, one tear, two, then they were running down his face and he made no move to stop them. He had cried too much lately. 17 years in a mental hospital without a single tear. But in the real world there was so much to cry about. He was explaining his predicament to the woman, who obviously couldn’t understand him. Even to his own ears he sounded like a lost child.
Thankfully, some things go beyond the language barrier. She took him home, cooked him a meal and found Peter. He wasn’t lost anymore. He didn’t have a clue where he was, but he wasn’t lost. He wasn’t an adult either. He wasn’t a child.
He was recovering, and that would take time