What was with all the fucking kids on this island? And, an even better question, what the fuck was with people just appearing out of no where? One minute it was a near empty beach, the next there was some kid standing around near him talking about Spain. Of course - the first fucking time in weeks he's felt good enough to sit down and write, some new person had to show up by him.
"You're a long way from Spain, kid," he said, scratching the side of his cheek with his pencil as he concentrated on curbing himself - at least for a little while. All he needed was to have some pissed off as hell parent going after him. He didn't feel like dealing with even more idiots.
"I'm average height for my age!" says Karen, a touch indignantly. It's what Jake told her to tell the boys at school and she follows it up with the face he told her to pull.
Her hair's in her face and she struggles with it for a minute before uncerminously dumping her bag and Hippo is the sand.
"I was leaving home. Mom kept nagging me, and I told her to stop, and she just kept nagging me."
Gideon crossed his arms over his chest, trying to figure out how to deal with this kid. It was pretty fucking obvious she'd just been...transported or whatever the fuck the island does to people, and who the hell knew if her parents were around. Great. Just fucking great.
"Well, you did a pretty good job leaving home if you're here," he said, because fuck, he didn't know how to break this shit to her in any way but a blunt way. "This is the farthest you can get from it if you tried."
It's really hot and Karen's really thirsty so she bends over and roots in her bag and pulls out her carton of Ribena. She concentrates on opening her straw.
"Where am I? Where's my mom? This doesn't look like London."
"That's because it's not London," he said, running his hand through his hair. Fuck, where was Desmond when he needed him? He probably could figure out how to deal with the kid better that he could.
"I don't know where your mom is, kid. She might not even be around here. And if you figure out where we are, make sure to tell me, 'cause I don't have a fucking clue myself."
And he had been doing so well to not slip up.
"...I mean, I don't know. I used to be in Connecticut and I showed up here outta no where, too."
"Yeah, uh, it's not a bad word," he lied. "...I mean. When you're older. When you're older, you're allowed to say it, okay?"
Fucking hell, she was that kind of kid. He wouldn't be surprised if she told on him to someone.
"Look. I'm going to take you to the Compound, okay? It's a building with lots of people who'd know what to do with you. Maybe even someone you know. Unless you wanna go run away into the jungles with the big scary animals..."
Freaking the kid out was probably not the best way to deal with things, but maybe it'd keep her from fucking scurrying off and making him chase her so he didn't have a guilty conscious later.
"You're a long way from Spain, kid," he said, scratching the side of his cheek with his pencil as he concentrated on curbing himself - at least for a little while. All he needed was to have some pissed off as hell parent going after him. He didn't feel like dealing with even more idiots.
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She squinted up at him, one eyebrow raised.
"You're taller than my dad."
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"And you're pretty short," he said, since they were apparently stating the fucking obvious. "You were just somewhere else a second ago, right?"
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Her hair's in her face and she struggles with it for a minute before uncerminously dumping her bag and Hippo is the sand.
"I was leaving home. Mom kept nagging me, and I told her to stop, and she just kept nagging me."
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"Well, you did a pretty good job leaving home if you're here," he said, because fuck, he didn't know how to break this shit to her in any way but a blunt way. "This is the farthest you can get from it if you tried."
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"Where am I? Where's my mom? This doesn't look like London."
It still looks like Spain.
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"I don't know where your mom is, kid. She might not even be around here. And if you figure out where we are, make sure to tell me, 'cause I don't have a fucking clue myself."
And he had been doing so well to not slip up.
"...I mean, I don't know. I used to be in Connecticut and I showed up here outta no where, too."
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"You said a bad word." She looks around like she's about to get told off at any minute. "A really bad word. Worse than...lezza."
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Fucking hell, she was that kind of kid. He wouldn't be surprised if she told on him to someone.
"Look. I'm going to take you to the Compound, okay? It's a building with lots of people who'd know what to do with you. Maybe even someone you know. Unless you wanna go run away into the jungles with the big scary animals..."
Freaking the kid out was probably not the best way to deal with things, but maybe it'd keep her from fucking scurrying off and making him chase her so he didn't have a guilty conscious later.
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