give me time I will be clear, given time you'll understand

[godtooksides]

The angel is sitting in a park. This, in and of itself, is not terribly surprising. What is surprising is that it's not actually Grant Park or any of the affiliated parks; it's actually a tiny little park with nothing more than a small playground on one end and some scraggly trees

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[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys has missed Jeremy him, has thought about him often and worried about him. Worried whether or not he was doing well, worried that he had skipped town entirely. Worried that something worse had happened to him.

But she's also been afraid. She's been afraid to contact him, to do too much pushing. She knows what happens when you poke around painful things too much--they tend to rear their ugly heads at you, and then it's a mess that has turned into a huge disaster.

So she waited. She waited until she could almost forget he needed her--until he was just another in a long line of people that needed her, and she could wait another day to check on him. And another day. And another.

But that day has come and so here she is, carrying a picnic basket full of cookies and smiling her widest smile as she walks up to the swingset.

"Hello there!" she says brightly.

[godtooksides]

It's still weird, seeing her the way she is now. In his memories she's still the redheaded girl that looked around his age -- not that he looks his age anymore either, he supposes. She looks more her age than he does his, it occurs to him. Not that he's entirely sure how old he is anymore. Still, the way she is now is a reminder of everything that happened

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys smiles back when he waves, and she goes to sit on the swing next to him, placing the basket in her lap.

"I try to!" she says. "You never know who will need one when you're out and about. Would you like one?" Swinging every so slightly, she opens the lid to the basket and offers him his own selection. "They're all chocolate chip, I think--there may be some ones with M&Ms towards the bottom, if you want to dig."

She knows he probably won't take one--most people don't. But it's something. It's her own slight way of nudging him, of reminding him that she's here. She knows there's a reason she's here, that he wouldn't have contacted her unless he needed something, and she knows that it's probably hard. She can feel his hurt--it's a little drumbeat in the back of her head, erratic, bah bum bum bum bah bah bum. But she's not going to push too hard--she can't let this go wrong, she can't let him regress when he's moved so far.

Plus, she's missed him a little bit. He really truly needs her--everyone does, and she knows that. She

[godtooksides]

He sucks in a long drag on the cigarette, eyeing the cookies in the basket. They do look delicious, in the weird way that he doesn't actually want to eat them, just look at them. If he could get his nutrients through just looking at food, he'd be set, though. Not that there are a lot of nutrients in the cookies at all